by Sara Saedi
To be fair, Phinn was busier than usual. He had called together a group of residents to form an unofficial army. They would use all five of the island’s sailboats and spread out over the ocean in search of Hopper. Since they would all technically be aging as they sailed in the waters off the island, they would have to do it in brief shifts. Wylie noted that none of the girls had been asked to volunteer, but if anyone was opposed to Phinn’s plan, they kept their concerns to themselves.
Wylie couldn’t decide what was more upsetting—the events of prom, or Phinn’s icing her out. Never in her life had she lost sleep over a guy, but for the past week, all her fears about Phinn kept her mind racing. It didn’t help that the sudden awkwardness had started right after they’d slept together for the first time.
“Maybe I was just really bad in bed,” Wylie blurted.
“I didn’t want to tell you, but that’s actually the word on the street,” Lola said sarcastically. “I can’t go anywhere without hearing everyone say ‘Wylie Dalton has no idea what she’s doing in the bedroom.’ You’re probably never going to have sex again.”
Wylie splashed Lola with water playfully. “That’s just evil.”
“More evil than spending the entire day talking about Phinn when you promised you’d teach me more about Austin, Texas? Maybe I should revoke your kitchen privileges.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Wylie said.
“Try me. Now, where did we leave off? You said Austin was a liberal city, even though Texas was a red state. I can’t remember what any of that means. How many colors do states come in?”
But Wylie couldn’t get into a lengthy political discussion. She had become a girl possessed.
“Are you sure Phinn’s never exiled an ex-girlfriend?” Wylie asked as she walked into the coop to collect eggs.
“I’m positive.”
“Ugh. I’m sorry. I can barely stand myself right now. Thanks for listening to me. I don’t know what I would do without you,” Wylie admitted. “Tonight we’ll talk about nothing but Texas. And as a token of my love and affection, I’ll take care of dinner. You go spend the day with Maz.”
“Now that’s the spirit!” Lola replied, never one to turn down time off from the kitchen. “What’s on the menu, Chef Wylie?”
“One of my favorite family recipes. A hearty stew of pickled turnips, a handful of basil, fried eggplant, and a big spoonful of honey to balance the sour ingredients. It’s called Sweet Honey Stew. My dad taught me how to make it.”
Lola’s smile faded. Wylie walked out of the coop with a basket full of eggs.
“I know it sounds gross, but I swear, everyone will be like, ‘Please sir, I want some more.’” Wylie said it with a British accent, mimicking the famous line from Oliver!, but the reference was lost on Lola.
“I’m sure it’s delicious,” Lola replied, “but we’re low on turnips, and a few people are allergic to eggplant. How about that seafood stew I taught you a few weeks ago?”
“Sure. No problem,” Wylie said, trying not to sound disappointed. She had thought of Sweet Honey Stew because she was feeling a little homesick, but the familiar taste would have probably left her in a sadder state of affairs.
“I’m gonna go find Maz,” Lola said. “Thanks for making dinner. And try not to obsess over Phinn. No guy is worth driving yourself crazy over.”
It took nearly three hours to water the rest of the plants, pull all the weeds from the garden, and prep the seafood stew, but Wylie stayed focused and barely thought about Phinn. Once all her tasks were completed, she grabbed a basket from the kitchen and stocked it with plantain and pame butter sandwiches, along with a jug of lemon sugar root juice filled with sprigs of rosemary.
She passed through the Clearing and watched as residents took turns jumping off the waterfall. Tinka and Micah were also there, painting still lifes from the lagoon, but there was no sign of Phinn. She knocked on his bungalow door, but he wasn’t there either. She finally found him in the clinic, where Aldo was bandaging his hand.
“Are you okay?” she asked as she walked in.
“I’ll be fine. Just a little cut from a loose nail on one of the sailboats,” Phinn replied.
“Have you had time to eat lunch? I brought food.”
“You must have heard my stomach growling all the way from the dining room.”
“It is freakishly loud,” Wylie joked. “I thought maybe we could go to the beach.”
They took the same trail they’d walked the first day Phinn had brought Wylie to the island. As they made the trek toward the dock and the ocean, past the yellow ladybugs and the stalks of bamboo, Wylie thought of the girl who had entered the island not too long before, all suspicious and confrontational. Phinn must have found her attitude amusing, knowing in just a day she’d happily agree to stay forever. So much had changed in such a short time.
“Are you going to dump me?” Wylie asked point-blank as they laid a blanket out on the sand and opened the picnic basket.
“No, I’ve just been distracted.”
“There’s this word we have on the mainland: ‘bullshit.’ Maybe you’ve heard of it? It’s what you say when someone’s not telling you how they really feel.”
Phinn silently contemplated his next move, then spoke up. “Fair enough. I’m still mad about our fight.”
Wylie nodded. “I appreciate your honesty. But I’ve already apologized. I don’t know what else I can do.”
“And I forgive you. It’s just hard to forget when your girlfriend calls you a dictator.”
Wylie cringed. “I didn’t mean it. All the girls were finally starting to warm up to me and I felt humiliated in front of them.”
Phinn sighed.
“I hate fighting,” Wylie continued. “It reminds me of my parents.”
“Look, Wylie, relationships aren’t perfect. Sometimes we’re going to fight. It doesn’t mean we’re turning into your parents.”
“Famous last words,” Wylie mumbled.
Phinn took a long chug of the lemon sugar root juice, then wiped his mouth and raised the jug to Wylie. He pointed to the remaining liquid.
“Half full. That’s the way I try to see the world,” he said.
“Wow. You just blew my mind,” Wylie deadpanned.
Phinn smiled sheepishly. “My point is, it’s all about perspective.”
“Right, except the stakes in this relationship are a lot higher for me than they are for you,” Wylie said, turning serious. “Your life hasn’t changed much since I came here. My life has changed completely. Yeah, I stayed here because I wanted to be seventeen forever, but I also stayed here for you. My mom did the same thing for my dad. She gave up all her dreams so she could be with him. She ended up miserable, and he ended up leaving her for another woman.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“It’s a topic I prefer to avoid. So, I can’t end up like them. I can’t look at you in ten years and see the losses. I have to see everything I’ve gained by being here.”
“You will.”
“Then don’t pull away from me every time we don’t see eye to eye. You can’t punish me if this is going to work.”
She wasn’t sure how well Phinn would handle her honesty, but if she wasn’t truthful with him, she’d be planting the first seed of resentment in the pit of her stomach.
“I screwed up. It won’t happen again,” Phinn confessed. “I love you.”
Wylie felt the knot in her belly loosen as her appetite finally returned after its weeklong absence. Now they could simply enjoy each other’s company.
“I love you, too.”
Wylie took a big bite of the plantain and pame butter sandwich. If she could sell them on a food truck back home, she’d make a quick million.
“When does Operation Hopper get under way?” she asked.
“In a few days, hopefull
y. We’re not ready quite yet.”
The sun was hotter than normal today. Wylie felt her skin heat up and knew she’d get a nasty sunburn if she wasn’t careful. The waves of the ocean crashed against the sand, and the cool, foamy water stopped short at her bare feet.
“It’s hot,” Wylie said as sweat began to drip down her forehead. “Let’s go for a swim in the ocean.”
“We can’t,” Phinn replied. “Being off the periphery of the island makes us age—that’s why we save all our swimming for the lagoon.”
“Come on!” Wylie said. “Just ten minutes.”
“It’s against the rules.”
“But you make the rules. You can choose to break them. No one’s around. Everyone’s been too scared to come out here since the explosion on prom night. We’ll have complete privacy.”
“I don’t know.”
“We’ll have to strip to our underwear,” Wylie said flirtatiously.
“I can’t.”
“Do I have to get down on my hands and knees to beg? Because I’ll do it.”
Phinn dug his fingers into the sand, then said under his breath, “I don’t know how to . . . swim.”
“Are you serious?”
“My parents died before they got a chance to show me how. The lagoon is shallow enough that it doesn’t matter, but I’ll drown in the ocean.”
“Not if I teach you to swim. You’ll be safe with me. There’s just one rule to remember: never turn your back on the ocean.”
Wylie pulled off her shirt and pants, keeping only her bra and underwear on. Phinn stripped down to his boxers, and they linked arms as they walked toward the water. In the time they’d known each other, Wylie had never witnessed Phinn’s confidence wavering. He was always self-assured and cocky, even arrogant at times. But as they stepped knee-deep into the water, she could almost hear his heart beating out of his chest. A wave crashed against them, knocking them off-balance.
“I’ve got you. Don’t worry,” Wylie told him.
“I don’t want to go out much further. My feet won’t reach the ground.”
“You’re tall. You’ll be fine. Don’t you trust me?”
Until now, Wylie thought the question of trust was an issue only for her. She had to decide if Phinn could be trusted after the way he’d brought her to the island and his decision not to tell her about the lost kids. It had never occurred to her that he had to learn to trust her, too.
“Phinn, do you trust me?” she asked again.
“I don’t know,” he answered.
“Well, right now, you’re going to have to,” Wylie responded.
They waded into the ocean until the water reached their chests and the waves grew still.
“It’s a lot like flying,” Wylie explained. “Only you’re in the water.”
Wylie flipped onto her back and let her arms and legs splay out as she floated on the surface of the ocean. The clouds rolled in, shielding them from the relentless heat of the sun. They looked almost gray and ominous and Wylie wondered if it was going to rain for the first time since she’d come here.
“You try it now. Just float on your back the same way you would in the air.”
“I’ll sink.”
“No, you won’t.” Wylie maneuvered back to her feet, placed her hand on Phinn’s back, and held him as he floated faceup.
“Now put your hands out,” Wylie instructed.
“Don’t let go,” Phinn begged.
“You’re doing great. A few more lessons and we’ll have you swimming in no time.”
She knew if she let go, Phinn would float on his own, and he’d leave the water feeling proud and giddy. But he’d asked her not to, and she didn’t want to betray his trust. If keeping her hands propped under him made him feel safe, then that’s where she’d leave them. Phinn closed his eyes and Wylie let herself count the freckles scattered across his nose.
A bell rang out in the distance. It was almost five p.m. and time to gather in the clinic for a dose of birth control.
“I’d better go. I can’t miss the Pill.”
Wylie helped Phinn get back on his feet and they walked to shore. They quickly got dressed as a light mist showered them from above.
“Now that I’m ten minutes older, will you promise not to leave me for a younger woman?” Wylie teased.
Phinn answered the question by giving Wylie a long kiss. She kissed him back just as passionately. Once they came apart, they each tossed back a parvaz.
“Don’t get weird on me again, Phinn,” she told him as they hovered in the sky, poised to fly their separate ways.
“I won’t. You have my word.”
Wylie watched him fly off, then whizzed past the trail to the Clearing to make a quick stop in the kitchen. Lola had been late to the last few birth-control rituals, and Patrick and Aldo were beginning to lose their patience. When she got lost in a recipe, even the sound of the bell couldn’t snap her out of it. Right about now, she was probably tasting the seafood stew to make sure the flavors of the broth met her standards, even though Wylie had told her to take the afternoon off.
“Loles!” she called as she landed in the garden, but there was no sign of her. She hurried into the kitchen, but it was empty.
“Lola, are you in here? The bell rang. I’ll see you in the clinic!”
The girls were all in their places when Wylie arrived. She grabbed a spot at the end of the line and scanned the room for Lola, but she was nowhere to be found. Maybe she actually did take the day off with Maz and lost track of time? Patrick and Aldo gave her a look, but Wylie just shrugged.
“I checked the kitchen. She’s not in there. I’m sure she’ll be here any minute.”
“This is the fourth day in a row she’s late,” Patrick said, making a note on his clipboard. “Phinn’s got strict guidelines. We ring a bell for a reason.”
Wylie placed a pill on her tongue and washed it down with a cup of water.
“She’ll be here. No one has to tattle to Phinn.” She said the last part loudly, signaling to the rest of the girls to keep their mouths shut.
“Maybe she’s pregnant,” Tinka chimed in.
“That’s not funny, Tinka,” Aldo said.
A half hour passed, and Lola still hadn’t shown up. The latest she’d ever been was fifteen minutes, but today she’d set a new record.
“When was the last time you saw her?” Patrick asked.
“This morning. We were in the garden together and she left to find Maz. Phinn and I went to the beach, then I stopped by the kitchen to get her, but she wasn’t there.”
Tinka reached out and touched a strand of Wylie’s hair.
“Your hair is wet. You didn’t convince Phinn to let you swim in the ocean, did you? ’Cause that’s against the rules. If word got out he was bending them for you, well then, it would be total anarchy,” Tinka said. The other girls stared at Wylie, waiting for an answer.
“I showered after the beach and then came here. Hence the tardiness and the wet hair,” Wylie lied. “Like I said, Lola will be here any minute.”
BUT LOLA NEVER SHOWED UP. THREE HOURS HAD passed and they’d all been ordered to gather in the Clearing. They had scoured the entire island, but everyone had come up empty. Wylie’s brothers had paired up on the search, and they were the only two who had yet to return. Please, Wylie thought. This can’t be happening. They would find Lola, and tonight she’d tell her everything she knew about Austin, Texas.
“When did you last see her?” Maz asked Wylie for the tenth time.
“This morning, in the garden. She said she was going to see you.”
“I haven’t seen her all day,” Maz said, raising his voice.
“That’s what she told me!” Wylie said.
“You shouldn’t have let her go anywhere alone!” Maz snapped.
“This isn
’t Wylie’s fault,” Phinn intervened. “She didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Well, the love of my life is missing and I want an explanation.” Maz’s voice quivered as he tried not to break down in tears.
“We’re going to find her.” Phinn’s voice was calm and even. It was the same tone Wylie had used as a kid when her parents erupted into an argument and her brothers tiptoed into her room. She knew it was difficult for him to keep a brave face, but he had to. Otherwise, the entire island would go into panic mode.
The leaves of the palm trees rustled as the rain started to pick up. It had been sprinkling all night, but right now the weather was the least of their worries. Joshua and Micah, both out of breath, landed in the middle of the Clearing.
“We found something,” Micah confessed.
Phinn squeezed Wylie’s hand as they followed her brothers through the dining room and into the kitchen, where Wylie and Lola spent their days laughing and arguing over cooking methods.
“There,” Micah pointed.
Carved right into the wooden counter were the words HOPPER WAS HERE.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
forbidden sides
fourteen days had gone by with no sign of Lola, and every inch of the island looked different to Wylie now. It didn’t matter that the lagoon sparkled in the moonlight or that thanks to days of rain, the parvaz field was even more lush than usual. All that mattered was that Lola was gone, and no one knew if she was ever coming back. No more hushed late-night conversations about the mainland. No more strolls through the garden. No more recipes to taste-test and adjust accordingly.
The hours in the kitchen were the most agonizing part of Wylie’s day. The island still needed to eat, and she was the obvious candidate to replace Lola as the resident chef. But feeding fifty people without any help proved exhausting. Wylie tried to honor her friend by making only the recipes Lola had taught her, but most were far too labor intensive and took double the time to cook by herself. So lately it was salads all day, every day. The vegetables in the garden were starting to wilt, and sometimes the chickens had to go without being fed, but it was inevitable that a few tasks would fall through the cracks. How had Lola ever done this alone?
