At the Edge of the World

by Jones, Kari;

  He grins and takes my paper. He smiles when he reads My midsummer wish is for the sun and stars to smile down on me and Ivan.

  “Maddie, always so poetic.”

  “What is your wish?” I ask.

  He folds over his paper and tries to hide it, but I grab it before he does and open it up. It says, I wish life would get easier.

  Oh my.

  “You weren’t supposed to see that,” he says.

  There’s nothing to say to that, so I run my hand across his beard and kiss his mouth as softly as I can, because my whole body aches to give him an easy world to live in, but a kiss is all I have to offer. Then I fold the paper back up again and add it to the wishes already tucked between the logs like dozens of white flags.

  Jack steps forward and lights a bundle of sticks he’s tied together. He uses that to light three others, then hands the torches to Ivan and Peter and Bo. “Ready?”

  They nod, and the four of them push the rafts into the water, using the torches to light the pyres. A cheer goes up as the paper catches fire, and Bo and Peter push one raft and then the others out to sea.

  It’s not dark and not light. The horizon is a mirror, and we can’t tell where sea ends and sky starts. We stand neither on land nor in water, but on something in between. This is the edge of the world. This is where magic lives, and if there is any place on earth where wishes are answered, this must be it.

  We all stand together as the rafts burn into the night, fading slowly as they float away.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Ivan

  I wake up when Willow pulls on my ear and says, “Wakeywakey, sunshine.”

  “Shit, Jesus,” I say before I realize it’s her, but she doesn’t seem to notice. She climbs up onto my bed and says, “Grandpa says I can spend the day with you.”

  “Oh” is all I can think of to say, though I know what I’m going to say to Pedro next time I see him.

  “Where’s Grandpa?” I ask.

  “He went somewhere in the brown van with your daddy.”

  “So it’s just the two of us. How long have you been here?”

  “Since I got here,” she says.

  “What did you do when you got here?”

  “Grandpa said I could watch TV, so I did, but then I got tired of that so I came to see if you were awake yet. You were snoring, so I knew you weren’t.”

  I pull up the covers and move over so there’s room for Willow next to me. She lies down with her head on my pillow and starts talking. I have no idea what she’s saying, because in my head I’m cursing Pedro for leaving her with me. What was he thinking? Did he even check to see if I was here?

  I reach out and search around for my phone.

  “What time is it, sweetie?” I say, holding the phone out to Willow.

  She takes it from me and turns it on, then says, “It’s 11:00 AM. Time to get up and get going.”

  It’s only been a few hours since I came back from the party. I struggle into a sitting position. “Where are we going?”

  “To the playground. Then for ice cream, then to see the baby seals, then—”

  “Wait, don’t I get a say in what we do?”

  “No,” she says with a laugh.

  “Can I at least eat before we go?”

  “I’ll make breakfast,” she says, hopping off the bed.

  I don’t know what Willow thinks she can cook, so I swing my legs over the bed and get up too. Never mind that my head feels like a watermelon.

  We go down to the kitchen, and I sit on a stool while Willow pours me a bowl of cereal and milk.

  “That’s a great breakfast, Willow,” I say.

  “I know.”

  She’s so cute. She uses me like a climbing gym and pulls herself up until she’s leaning right over the table.

  “Watch out,” I say, but she just grins and leans even farther. I guess, living with Pedro, she probably hasn’t had anyone tell her not to do things.

  “Are you done yet?” she asks after about two seconds.

  “No,” I say through a mouthful of cereal.

  “Hurry up!”

  “The playground isn’t going anywhere, Willow.”

  She nods and pulls on my arm to speed me up.

  * * *

  By lunchtime I’m exhausted and starving, and Willow is super cranky, even though we did everything she asked to do.

  “Let’s head back to my place,” I say, but she ignores me and keeps swinging.

  “Come on, I’m hungry.”

  She keeps swinging.

  “Do you want some more ice cream? Or some more candy?”

  She keeps swinging, so finally I say, “Fine, well, I’m going anyway,” and I turn and walk across the playground.

  She’s crying when she catches up with me, and I feel like a shit, even though I know I would have turned around if she hadn’t followed me, so I say, “Maybe Grandpa will be back,” and that seems to make her feel a bit better, because she stops sniveling.

  We walk in silence back to my house, and I know before we get there that Pedro and Des are not back, because the van’s not there.

  “I guess they went on a long drive,” I say.

  “Maybe they’re inside,” she says.

  “But there’s no van.”

  “Maybe they left it somewhere and walked home.”

  “I guess,” I say, even though I know it won’t be true.

  I let her lead me around the empty house, but when the tears start flowing again, I say, “Willow, you and me are going to go and find Maddie. Have you ever been to her house? She lives on the beach, and she has strawberries in her garden, and there’s a telescope in the living room, and she’s a painter.”

  I’m babbling, trying to find something that will make her stop crying, and the word painter seems to do it.

  “Will she let me paint?” Willow asks.

  “Yep, for sure.”

  She takes a big breath and pulls herself upright. “Okay,” she says.

  “You’re an awesome kid,” I say, because I can see how much effort she is making.

  “I know.”

  We go as fast as we can down to the beach, then run together along the sand to Maddie’s house. When we get to the deck, we both leap to the door and knock.

  “Who’s this?” asks Bo when he steps out onto the deck.

  “That’s Willow,” I say.

  “Hello, Willow,” says Bo.

  “Ivan said I can paint,” Willow says, but Bo says, “Maddie’s out for a few minutes, so you’ll have to wait. How about you two come into the kitchen and join me for some lunch?”

  “Thanks,” I say. Without waiting for Willow to answer, I scoop her up and we follow Bo inside.

  There’s a small bookshelf in the kitchen filled with Maddie’s old books, and Willow heads right for it.

  “Do you want me to read you a book?” she says. When I nod, she chooses one with a turtle on the front and settles herself on a chair. She doesn’t know how to read, so instead she makes up stories for each picture. Her soft voice is soothing and I try to listen, but soon my mind wanders and I start thinking about where Des and Pedro might be. Something must have happened. I mean, it’s not like Des hasn’t disappeared before, but for Pedro to leave Willow with me, that’s something. Much as I hate to admit it, Pedro takes good care of Willow. She is Pedro’s son’s daughter, but I bet Pedro is a better grandfather than he was a father. He loves Willow. Thinking about this makes my heart race, because the more I think about it, the more I realize something really bad must have happened.

  When Peter and Maddie arrive a few minutes later, I go off to the bathroom before we eat, and by the time I get back, Willow is telling them the story of how she got to ride in the bow of the boat on her way over here with her grandpa.

  “I’m babysitting Willow for the day,” I say.

  But the looks on their faces tell me they know I’m lying.

  THIRTY

  Maddie

  After lunch we tak
e Willow into the living room, and as soon as she sees Bo’s telescope, she wants to look through it. Peter and Bo help her adjust it to her eye, and she exclaims when the eagles on the headland pop into view. Watching them, I suddenly have a memory of when I was about the same age, and Bo brought this telescope home and I saw a falcon through the lens. I remember the magic of that, and the memory makes me smile.

  Ivan and I leave the three of them and head out onto the deck.

  “What’s going on? How come you’re looking after her?” “She’s visiting,” he says, but there’s absolutely no conviction in his voice.

  Truly, Ivan is the most stubborn person I’ve ever met. The more questions I ask, the more silent he becomes, until he simply stares out to sea and doesn’t say anything.

  After a while, Willow comes outside and tugs on Ivan’s arm and asks, “When is Grandpa coming?”

  We exchange looks, but Ivan only shrugs, so I say, “Let’s read a book, and maybe he’ll be here when we’re done.”

  She seems to think that’s okay, because she hops up onto the railing and plays on it like it’s a jungle gym.

  In the end, Willow falls asleep on the window seat in the living room while I read to her, and Bo carries her to my bed, and we all agree that she should stay here for the night. Ivan leaves later on, but he still hasn’t told me a damn thing about what’s going on.

  * * *

  In the morning Willow wakes first, and though she tries to creep out of the bed, her movement wakes me.

  “What time is it?” I ask her.

  “Morning.”

  I yawn, but she hops around and says, “I have to pee,” so I get out of bed and lead her to the bathroom.

  Bo and Peter are still asleep. We all stayed up late last night, waiting for Pedro to show up, so I decide to let them be. When Willow is done in the bathroom, I say, “Let’s go find Ivan, okay?”

  “Is he at Grandpa’s house?” Willow asks.

  “No, he’s at his house.”

  “I want to go home,” Willow says.

  I’ve seen Pedro and Willow around for, of course, and I know they live on one of the islands out across the channel, near Pitbull Island, but I don’t know exactly where, so I say, “Let’s go get Ivan, and he can help us.”

  Willow seems to see the sense in this, so she lets me lead her down the beach and then up the path to Ivan’s house. The door is unlocked, and we go inside.

  “Ivan,” I call from the kitchen, but there’s no answer, so Willow bellows out, “Ivan!” and the two of us giggle when there’s a crashing sound upstairs.

  “I’ll go and get him,” says Willow, but before I can stop her, she’s running up the stairs. Following her is probably not the best idea, so instead I stay in the kitchen to see if there’s anything to make for breakfast. It’s a lot cleaner and tidier in here than it was the last time I came in, but still, it takes me a while to find a frying pan, and there’s not much in the fridge except eggs. By the time Willow reappears with Ivan in tow, I’ve scrambled some eggs for us and made toast out of not-too-stale bread.

  Ivan looks like he didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.

  “No sign of Pedro?” he asks.

  I shake my head.

  “He must be at home,” Willow says. She climbs into a chair and pulls a plate full of eggs toward her. I guess she likes scrambled eggs. Ivan and I sit at the table with her and dig into our food. Willow talks nonstop while she’s eating, chatting about the eagle’s nest she and Pedro found in the forest. “I’ll show you when I get home today,” she says.

  Ivan and I share a look that says, Home today?

  “Willow, buddy, maybe you can stay with me another day or two,” says Ivan. “I need help now that Des is away.”

  Willow eats another bite. “No, I want to go home today. Grandpa will be waiting for me.”

  “Ivan’s daddy didn’t come home last night. Maybe he’s at your house,” I say to Willow.

  Ivan glares at me. “You think they’re at Pedro’s place?”

  “I think we should go there and look,” I say.

  I can tell by the frown on Ivan’s face that he is worried about that, but I think it’s a good idea. Pedro’s an old man. Maybe he’s had an accident and is stuck out on his island, or maybe he and Des are there together, but for whatever reason they are not here, so something must have happened, and we should find out what. Willow seems to think so too, because she slides out of her chair and heads for the door.

  “Wait,” says Ivan. “I’ll go and see if your grandpa is there. No need for you to come all the way out there.”

  Willow doesn’t even slow down. She opens the door and walks out. Ivan follows her.

  “Buddy, let me go. You don’t want to go on a long boat ride, do you?”

  “I want to go home.”

  “I think it would be better if I go first.” Ivan tries to pick her up, but she holds her arms out straight and pushes him away. “I want to go home!” she wails.

  Ivan looks at me for help, but I say, “She wants to go home, Ivan. Plus, you can’t manage the boat alone.”

  “I can,” he says.

  “You can’t,” says Willow, which would be funny under other circumstances. Right now it makes Ivan grimace.

  “Seriously, Maddie, I don’t think it’s a good idea. You and Willow should stay here and wait for Pedro and Des. I’ll go and make sure there’s nothing wrong out there.”

  “Ivan!” How can he say something like that in front of Willow? Willow whimpers and wipes tears from her eyes with the back of her hand, and I say, “We’ll go find him, okay, Willow?”

  “Okay, okay,” says Ivan, but his eyes are dark, and I can tell he doesn’t want us to go with him, so I say, “It’s okay, Ivan. Whatever’s going on, we’re in it together now.” Because apparently, sometime in the last few hours, I have decided that’s true. Ivan snorts, but I say, “Truly, and besides, if Pedro isn’t there, we should get some stuff for Willow, clothes and things.”

  “I could do that,” he mumbles, but he reaches out and takes Willow’s hand anyway.

  “Let’s go,” says Willow.

  * * *

  Arne lets us take his boat. Ivan’s driven it many times before and knows his way around it.

  “I can drive it myself,” he says as we clamber aboard.

  “That’s not the point, Ivan. You shouldn’t have to be alone.”

  Willow and I sit up front. She’s comfortable on the boat, which makes sense since she lives on an island, and she leans into the wind. I sit with my arm around her for safety and watch Ivan. He pays attention to the water, and once in a while he catches my eye. When he does, he smiles, but when he forgets I’m looking at him, he scowls. There’s something out there he doesn’t want us, or maybe just me, to see.

  The island isn’t far away, and before long Ivan noses the boat into a small dock. As soon as I lift Willow off the boat and help her unzip her life jacket, she runs up the dock, calling out, “Grandpa, I’m here.” Ivan and I follow her as fast as we can, but we don’t catch up to her until she’s already inside.

  “Grandpa!” she calls.

  There’s no answer.

  “He might not be here, buddy,” says Ivan.

  Willow doesn’t answer, just runs across the living room and through a door on the other side. Ivan follows her, but I stay in the living room, because it seems weird to be in someone’s house uninvited.

  It’s funny how you form impressions of people and imagine how they live. Because Ivan dislikes Pedro so much, I thought his house would be dark or dirty or full of strange things, but it’s clean and sunny and there’s not a lot in the living room except for an expensive-looking sofa, a couple of matching chairs and a Persian rug. In one corner there’s a bookshelf with some kids’ books on it. I choose a small pile and put them on the sofa for Willow to look over. It seems obvious that she’s going to have to come back to Bear Harbour with us, but convincing her to do so might be a problem, and I’m hopi
ng the books will help.

  When Ivan and Willow come back, Ivan’s carrying Willow on one arm, and Willow is crying silently.

  “He’s not here?” I ask.

  They both shake their heads.

  “Good. That means you can come and have more sleepovers with me.” I smile as broadly as I can without being totally fake, but Willow collapses onto Ivan’s chest and puts her fingers in her mouth. Tears still stream down her face.

  “I told her she could sleep in the big bed at my house,” Ivan says.

  “Well, even better then. And can I come?”

  Willow nods, but she’s clearly not too happy about this whole situation.

  “There are lots of fun things we can do. We can feed Luseal at the wharf, and we can pick strawberries from my garden, and we can fix up that old swing on the beach…”

  When I say the word swing, Willow lifts her head off Ivan’s chest, so I say, “Willow, take me to your bedroom, and we’ll pack some good clothes for swinging in.”

  Ivan lets her down, and she leads the way to the bedroom. She still isn’t happy, but she’s stopped crying. I turn around to ask Ivan if he can remember where we put the old swing, but he’s already heading to another room. Looking for something he doesn’t want to tell us about.

  THIRTY-ONE

  Ivan

  We’re in this together, Maddie says, but what if being in it together makes us part of a crime? Not that there’s anything here. Pedro’s house is strangely empty, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t anything to find. The weed Des and I took home last time I was here came from somewhere. Pedro must keep plants and some kind of harvesting machinery here. As soon as Willow and Maddie leave the room, I rush outside to the nearest shed but slow down before I open the door, because it occurs to me that if I’m going to see something gross or violent, it’s going to be here. It takes a few deep breaths to psych myself up enough to open the door, and when I do, I take a deep breath and hold it. I’ve got no clue what I’m going to find in here, and I just hope to hell Pedro isn’t in there bleeding to death. Or dead.