Never Ever

by Sara Saedi

  “I can sand the wood down if you want,” Bandit said, pointing to Hopper’s carved inscription on the counter.

  “No. Leave it. It’s a good reminder,” Wylie told him as she sliced open an avocado.

  It was Phinn who had insisted on the bodyguards. He refused to leave Wylie alone in the same place Lola had been abducted from, so he recruited several of his strongest men to trade shifts in the kitchen. Bandit was her afternoon bodyguard and talked ad nauseam about how grateful he was to Phinn for bringing him to the island. Wylie tried to nod and smile and agree, but “grateful” was no longer a word she’d use to describe her state of mind. Her fingers grazed the letters.

  Hopper was here. But how? Wylie kept thinking. How had he managed to enter the island and walk all the way to the kitchen without anyone seeing him? How was he able to kidnap Lola and drag her back to his boat without anyone hearing her scream or struggle?

  “He’s resourceful,” Phinn said that night as they lay in his bed together. Wylie had practically moved into his bungalow. She couldn’t bear to sleep at her own place next to Lola’s unmade bed. It also made Wylie think about the three empty bedrooms in New York that would torment her parents for the rest of their lives.

  “She told me she was going to see Maz. That was hours before the bell rang, and Maz said he hadn’t seen her all day. Plus, I went to the kitchen right before the clinic. Lola wasn’t there, and nothing was carved into that counter. The timeline just doesn’t make sense to me.”

  “You didn’t notice the carving, because you weren’t looking for it. A lot of us searched the kitchen for Lola, remember? And your brothers were the first to see that Hopper had left his calling card.”

  The lack of emotion in Phinn’s voice left Wylie troubled. He was either getting impatient with her, or he just didn’t know how to comfort her anymore. Wylie knew that everyone grieved differently, but she couldn’t help but wonder why he sounded so bored every time she mentioned Lola.

  “You don’t want to talk about this, do you?” she asked.

  “No. I don’t like to see you upset.”

  “But why aren’t you more upset? Lola’s one of your closest friends. A member of the inner circle. Maz’s girlfriend. And yet you haven’t had a single normal human reaction to what happened.”

  “That’s not fair,” Phinn said. Wylie could tell she’d offended him by the way he abruptly pulled away from her. “I don’t have the luxury of losing it. I have to keep calm for the rest of the island. If anyone knew I was afraid or upset, it would be chaos.”

  “No one’s here but us,” Wylie pointed out.

  “And you’re upset and scared and I’m trying to be strong for you.” Phinn moved back toward her. “Let’s get some sleep.” He gave her a kiss good night, but Wylie wasn’t ready to go to sleep.

  “What if she went to the Forbidden Side? She said there were herbs that grew over there that she missed cooking with. Maybe she crossed over and got trapped in some quicksand. Why can’t we go look for her there?”

  “Because Lola knew not to go near that place. Even Maz won’t cross over, and no one loved Lola as much as he did.”

  Loved. Wylie had also overheard Maz use that word in the past tense a couple days before in the dining room: “I loved her so much.” Like he knew she wasn’t coming back.

  “Generally when things like this happen on the mainland, the boyfriend or husband is responsible,” Wylie said. “How do we know Maz didn’t do something to her and he’s trying to cover it up?”

  “Wylie, don’t take this the wrong way, but you sound like a crazy person. Last night, Bandit and Joshua had to wrestle Maz to the ground when he tried to sail away by himself to look for her. I have someone guarding the boats and his bungalow so he won’t sneak off.”

  Wylie didn’t blame Maz for taking matters into his own hands. Operation Hopper had only set sail a handful of times and so far, their search was fruitless.

  Wylie had one other theory she couldn’t mention to Phinn: that Lola had faked her disappearance and finally decided to find a way to the mainland. She could be on a plane right now to California or Texas. But Lola would never leave without Maz and couldn’t make it off the island without a boat.

  “Take the day off tomorrow,” Phinn said. “I can find my way around a kitchen; I’ll make food. Some of us put a memorial together down by the Clearing. It’ll make you feel better to see it. For now, try to get some sleep.”

  Wylie closed her eyes and tried to slow down her thoughts. If only her parents were fighting in the next bungalow. Then she wouldn’t have any trouble passing out. But all she heard were the quiet sounds of Phinn’s breathing.

  “Phinn?”

  He didn’t respond. He was already asleep.

  Charlotte, I miss your laugh and your weird sense of humor. The island hasn’t been the same without you. Love, Elliot.

  Danny, remember our morning flights through the parvaz field? I think about them often. I haven’t been able to fly over there since you’ve been gone. I’ll wait for you to get back and then we’ll go again together. xoxo Helen.

  Jersey, the band hates being short a bass player. We sound like crap without you. We will have a tropic jam session once you come home. Hopefully soon. Love you, goose. Yours, Bailey.

  “I can’t read all of these. It’s too sad,” Micah said. Dark circles had taken residence under his eyes, and Wylie could tell she wasn’t the only one who wasn’t sleeping much these days.

  “I feel like we owe it to the missing kids to read them,” Wylie replied. “But yeah, it’s pretty heartbreaking.”

  During the hours Wylie had spent slaving away in the kitchen, the residents had erected a memorial for the lost kids. Phinn had discouraged it in the months right after the tragedy, worried it would feel too much like they were dead. But with Lola now gone, everyone agreed they needed an outlet for their pain. The memorial itself was constructed by stringing several yards of twine between two palm trees. Nadia had cut squares of cloth from leftover fabric, so that each of the residents could draw art or write messages on them, then hang them from the twine. It was strange to see all the names and personal jokes written to people Wylie had never met or known existed.

  Lola, I miss your cooking. I miss how you were always kind to everyone. I even miss the way you were always late for everything. Maz is a wreck without you. You have to come back and put the poor guy out of his misery. Love, Aldo.

  Lola had only been missing a couple of weeks, and some of the tributes sounded like excerpts from a eulogy. The locals had known Lola for much longer than she had, but Wylie got the sense that they didn’t know the real girl. She grabbed a piece of cloth and a Sharpie pen, but couldn’t find the words to memorialize her best friend. Instead, she just wrote Don’t mess with Texas and hung it up next to the other messages. Hopefully she wouldn’t get in trouble for making a reference to the mainland, but ever since she and Lola had made their way through the cities in the Lone Star State, Lola liked to remind her not to mess with Texas right before they fell asleep.

  “How are you doing?” Wylie asked Micah before he left. Back in New York, the smallest mishap could raise his anxiety. “You look exhausted.”

  “Have you looked in a mirror lately? ’Cause you look like the walking dead.”

  “Geez. Thanks a lot.”

  “What I mean is, you don’t have to worry about me so much,” Micah replied.

  “I’m your older sister—worrying about you is a job requirement.”

  “I know you, Wylie. A bunch of kids went missing. Lola’s gone. Now you’re worried the same thing could happen to one of us, and it would be all your fault for running off with Phinn and taking us to his boat.”

  “It would be my fault. I’ll never forgive myself if anything happens to you guys.”

  Micah glanced up at the bungalows. “My life sucked before we came he
re. Back home, someone like Tinka wouldn’t even try to get to know me.” His face lit up when he mentioned her name. Wylie could tell that for him, this was not a fleeting romance.

  “What’s up with you two these days?” Wylie asked. “I haven’t seen her around much.”

  Micah stuck his hands in his pockets. “She won’t leave her bungalow. She won’t even let me in. I leave her food and talk to her through the door to make sure she’s okay. She said she’s certain she’s going to be Hopper’s next victim and that he’s ‘going to come after her for what she did to him.’”

  “What did she do to him?”

  “She won’t tell me. For a while, she slipped me notes under the door, because she was convinced someone was listening in on our conversations. Honestly, I’m worried she’s losing her mind a little. She’s got this weird theory. . . .” Micah looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping.

  “What theory?” Wylie asked.

  Micah took a note out of his pocket and handed it to Wylie. On it were the words: The Forbidden Side.

  “Flip it over,” Micah directed.

  The back of the note read: That’s where Hopper lives.

  “What does she mean Hopper lives on the Forbidden Side?” Wylie asked.

  “I don’t know. She won’t say anything else about it. I showed it to Joshua, and he said she’s being paranoid and that I shouldn’t worry. He told me to only go to that part of the island if I had a death wish.”

  Wylie hadn’t talked to Joshua much recently. When he’d learned Wylie had asked Phinn not to send him out on any of the search missions, he’d stormed into the kitchen and told his sister she had no business using her boyfriend against him. He could have shouted at her till every parvaz flower wilted and died, and she still wouldn’t have backed down. Since the argument, Joshua had been keeping his distance. It didn’t matter. She’d rather have him alive and angry than the alternative.

  “If Tinka says anything else suspicious, let me know,” she told Micah. “I can talk to Phinn and see if he can help her.” She didn’t want him to carry the burden of Tinka’s questionable mental state on his own.

  “That’s the problem,” Micah whispered. “She made me swear I wouldn’t mention it to Phinn.”

  “She’s lucky she has you to check on her,” Wylie said with as much sympathy as she could muster.

  “Someone has to,” Micah replied as he walked away.

  Wylie watched her brother make his way up the rickety stairs to the bungalows. She waited until he turned the corner and then she meandered past the small crowd that had gathered at the memorial. In two weeks, the only time she’d been alone was in the bathroom. She needed some air and to get away from all the heartbreaking sentiments hanging in the Clearing. Phinn would be furious if he found out she was wandering around alone, but she had her pepper spray and compass, and more than a few parvaz flowers in her pocket. She would probably need the entire supply for where she was going.

  The weeds and brush had grown thick around the entrance to the Forbidden Side, making the caution tape and barbed wire almost unnecessary. Someone had covered up Hopper’s calling card, but the layer of paint was starting to peel. No one had tended to the barricade, too afraid to get within inches of where a heinous crime might have been committed.

  Wylie wasn’t sure what exactly had brought her here, but her gut kept telling her that Lola was not snatched from the kitchen. The timeline didn’t add up, and anyone could have carved “Hopper Was Here” into the counter. Even if she didn’t find Lola, maybe there were some clues on the other side of the barbed wire that Phinn had overlooked.

  I, Wylie Dalton, solemnly swear to abide by all the rules presented to me in the Minor Island Handbook. I understand I am not allowed to leave the island of my own accord. I will not cross over into the Forbidden Side. . . .

  If the roles were reversed, Lola would cross over for me, Wylie thought. The fence was high, but with the help of a parvaz flower, anyone could easily hop it. Wylie slipped one into her mouth, chewed quickly, and took a deep breath as her feet floated above the ground.

  From a bird’s-eye view, palm trees and foliage obscured the Forbidden Side. If you were flying right above the island, you couldn’t see into it at all. But as Wylie’s body slowly rose above the fence she spied a patch of land not much bigger than the Clearing. She glimpsed what looked like a row of empty cages, but before she could maneuver past the barrier to get a closer look, a body crashed into her, knocking her straight to the ground.

  “What are you doing?” Phinn asked frantically, pinning her down.

  “Nothing!” Wylie responded, trying to catch her breath. “You scared the hell out of me.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Wylie. Why were you over here?”

  “I was looking for clues.”

  “It’s off-limits.”

  “Why?”

  “Because twelve people went missing on that side of the island!”

  “Okay,” Wylie said. “You didn’t have to tackle me to the ground.”

  Phinn loosened his grip as they both stood up and dusted themselves off.

  “I’ve told you over and over again it’s dangerous, but you don’t listen.”

  “I’m not going to give up on Lola!”

  “Well, you’re not going to find her here.”

  “Says the guy who’s lied to me on more than one occasion,” Wylie snapped.

  “So that’s what this is about.” Phinn held her by the shoulders and looked straight into her eyes. “Listen to me. I am not lying to you right now. I love you. I would never do anything to hurt you.”

  Wylie let out a sigh and nodded.

  “I’m sorry. I just feel so helpless. There’s nothing I can do to bring Lola back.”

  “Well, you won’t be able to find her if you get yourself killed in the process.”

  Together they walked back to the memorial. The Clearing was still filled with residents paying their respects to all the kids who had gone missing. The Youth Brigade was performing a new ballad they’d written as a tribute to their lost friends. Lola’s disappearance had unearthed all the feelings they’d kept buried for the past few months. It was proof that what had happened to the lost kids wasn’t an isolated incident. They were all still at risk, and at any point, one of them could be the next person to disappear.

  Wylie didn’t want to take part in the vigil at the moment. Aside from Lola, she didn’t have personal experience with the friends they were mourning. She didn’t want to pretend she understood the gravity of their pain. And part of her wanted to scream that throwing together a memorial and singing sad songs wasn’t going to solve anything.

  “I’m going to my room,” Wylie told Phinn.

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “No. I’ll be safe there. I want to be by myself.”

  The bungalow looked like a time capsule of happier times. Wylie had only been there once since Lola’s disappearance, to gather some belongings. Maz, too fragile to comb through Lola’s things, had also avoided it.

  “Where are you, Loles?” Wylie asked the question out loud as she collapsed on her bed.

  Wylie looked at Lola’s messy ball of sheets. A few weeks before, they’d had a ridiculous argument over the fact that Lola never made her bed.

  “What’s the point if I’m just going to mess it up again tonight when I go to sleep? It’s a waste of time.”

  “But it makes the room look nicer.”

  Wylie had taken to making both of their beds most mornings, because she couldn’t live with the mess. Lola would usually fall asleep writing in her journal and the next day, Wylie would unearth it from the blankets and place it back under the mattress. She scanned the bed and spotted the leather binding peeking out from under the pillowcase. Wylie had never been tempted to snoop through it before. But as she grabbed the journal from und
er the pillow and held it in her hands, she contemplated whether or not to read it. Cracking it open would be a huge breach of privacy, but it seemed forgivable under the current circumstances.

  A small laugh escaped her throat as she skimmed through the notes Lola had taken during their late-night conversations. Sometimes when she could barely stay awake, she told Lola fake stories about the mainland to amuse herself. Thanks to Wylie, Lola now thought Beyoncé was the president of the United States and had won the election after a televised dance-off with her opponent, Taylor Swift. There were a few recipe ideas scribbled among the pages and a love note to Maz she’d never had a chance to give him. Wylie tore it out and stuck it in her pocket. Between the pages of notes and recipes were full-length diary entries. One of the earliest entries had Wylie’s name in it:

  I didn’t think it was true, but I guess you can’t put anything past Phinn these days. He brought new recruits. We all agreed we shouldn’t bring any new people to the island until we found everyone who’d gone missing. Not like he’s ever listened to what anyone’s told him before. It’s three siblings. The oldest is a girl named Wylie and it’s so obvious he’s interested in her. I can’t figure it out, but something about the three of them feels different. Like he really wants to impress them and he’s nervous they might not want to stay on the island. Phinn told me if they stick around, Wylie will be my roommate. Charlotte’s only been gone for a few months. What’s it going to look like when she comes back to Minor Island and all of her stuff is gone and a new girl is living with me? I am the worst friend in the entire world.

  Wylie quickly placed a chair under the doorknob. They didn’t have any locks on their door and she didn’t want to run the risk of Phinn walking in on her while she read the remaining entries. Some of them were just passages about how much Lola loved Maz and what their life together might look like if they ever lived on the mainland. Wylie already felt conflicted about looking through the journal, so she just scanned the entries for one word: “Phinn.”