by Sara Grant
“What are you doing?”
I screamed. The voice was coming from the deck. I was caught red-handed. The wallet dropped from my grasp, and this time the paper flicked open a bit as it fell to the floor.
I turned, fighting the urge to raise my hands in surrender as I faced my accuser. Mackenzie stood dripping on my deck in a red, pink, yellow and blue swirled bikini.
“What are you doing?” I accused right back. She had no right to drop in uninvited. Yeah, I’d done it to her yesterday but that was an accident.
“Why are you looking in Ariadne’s handbag?” she asked. She wiped away the water from her arms and legs, but she was too wet to come in.
I had to think fast. “I was looking…” I peered into Ariadne’s bag and spotted her pillbox. “I have a headache and was looking for an aspirin or something.” I picked up the wallet and the paper. I sort of accidently flicked the piece of paper by one corner so it unfolded completely. It was a letter. I wanted to study it more, but Mackenzie was glaring at me. She knew I wasn’t looking for aspirin. “What are you doing barging into my room?”
“I saw Ariadne at breakfast, and she asked if I’d look in on you.” Mackenzie paused and looked down at the water pooling at her feet. “She thought I could download your schoolwork.” Dad said he’d arranged for me to keep up with my studies online. I hoped he was joking. Guess not. “I told her I was happy to help.”
The girl had an ego that was for sure. “I don’t need your help.” But I did need her computer and wifi if I was going to retrieve my homework and online lessons.
She shook her head. Her springy curls splattered water across the floor. “It’s not like that. I mean, she asked me to be nice to you.”
“How about don’t bother?” I said with as much venom as I could manage. I was no one’s charity case.
I turned my back on her. It gave me time to check out the letter for a few seconds before I folded it and put it back where I found it.
“I didn’t mean it like that—” Mackenzie started.
“Leave me alone,” I shouted at her, but I really wanted to shout at my crazy, mixed-up family. I stormed out and slammed the door so hard that the bungalow shook.
I’d noticed three things in the letter before I put it back: the date, the opening line and the logo. Those three clues solved the mystery of my mother. It explained where she was, why she couldn’t see me, and why Dad wanted to protect me from her.
The date was from two weeks ago.
The opening line read: “Sorry to inform you that your daughter Beatrice’s parole has been denied.”
The logo was a crown with the words HM Prison Service printed underneath.
Of all the mother–daughter scenarios I’d concocted over the years, I had never ever dreamed that my mom was in prison.
As I raced to the office, I had the strange sensation that I was being followed. It was probably my overactive imagination playing tricks on me again. I had more important things to worry about than some senile senior citizen stalking me. MY MOM WAS IN PRISON! I passed the beach and the dining hall. I couldn’t shake that being watched feeling. When I reached the lobby, I whipped around ready to confront whoever or whatever had me in its sights. No one was there.
“I need to use the phone in Artie’s office,” I practically shouted at the receptionist. Artie had the only phone that could reach the outside world, and I had to talk to my dad. I had to know the truth. And the truth couldn’t possibly be that my mom was a criminal.
“It’s back there,” she pointed behind her, “but Artie said no one was to use his office while he was making his rounds this morning.”
I shoved passed her. “Sorry, but it’s important.” I stumbled down a short hall to the only office with a door at the end.
“Wait!” she called. Now I really was being followed. As I reached for Artie’s office door handle, she dashed in front of me and blocked the door. She must have seen the desperation on my face. “Oh, OK, but make it quick.” She looked around as if we were spies at a top-secret meeting. “He should be back in fifteen minutes. If you get caught, I’ll deny everything.”
“Fair enough.” I slipped inside, pulling the door closed behind me. I dropped into Artie’s chair, causing several pages from his desk to flutter to the floor. I picked them up. They were two lists with today’s date. One included a numbered list of nearly a hundred names with a special column for titles – Sir, Dame and Lord. It must be the guest list. The other had thirty names on it. I spotted Luke and Artie’s names so it must be the staff list. Strange to think there were so few of us stranded on this tiny island together. I placed the papers back on his desk.
His computer screen hadn’t switched to standby yet. He must have just stepped away. His email was open on the screen. Red exclamation marks punctuated almost every email message. How could everything be so important?
I dialled Dad’s number. As I waited for the call to connect, I took a sneaky peek at my messages. Maybe Shanna had sent the latest gossip. Jacob was going to give me the swim team schedule. I’d even settle for my homework list and class notes from Dana. Nothing but junk. Not a single message from any of my friends. I checked social media as the phone began to ring. No direct messages on there either.
I thought I couldn’t feel any worse, but I was wrong about that too. My friends had already forgotten me. I’d always wondered if the only reason we were friends was because we lived in the same small town with not much else to do besides hang out. I guessed I had my answer. We didn’t have much in common or some BFF connection.
“Hello?” Dad’s voice was a croaky whisper.
“Dad, it’s Chase,” I said in this hysterical way I did when I’d combined a double espresso with a mega chocolate bar once. Volcanic questions erupted in my brain, but all I could think to say was: “I got here OK.”
“Ariadne called me yesterday,” he said, his voice beginning to sound more normal.
“Oh.”
“Can we talk tomorrow?” he asked. “It’s the middle of the night here and I’ve got to be up early for––”
I interrupted. “No, it can’t wait.”
“Chase, what is it? What’s wrong?” He was wide awake now.
“My mom’s in prison,” I blurted as if he didn’t already know.
Static crackled on the line as I waited for him to say something. I prayed he would deny it.
He sighed. “Ariadne promised she wouldn’t tell you.”
“She didn’t.”
“Then how—”
I wasn’t about to tell him about my snooping. How I found out was not important. “Were you ever going to tell me?”
“Of course I was going to tell you. Your grandma and I were going to talk to you at the end of your vacation. We agreed it was time for you to know the truth.”
“Really?” How was I ever supposed to believe him again? He’d kept this massive secret from me my whole life.
“Chase, you know I love you,” he said in that super sensitive way that only dads who have changed your diapers, told you bedtime stories and never ever failed to pick you up from school or missed one of your stupid swim meets or bike races can say.
“I know,” I begrudgingly admitted.
“I’ve never lied to you,” he added. “I didn’t tell you the entire truth about your mom, but I never lied to you.”
Something was slipping away from me. He wasn’t who I thought he was, which meant I wasn’t who I thought I was either. “Is that why you were always training me? Are you afraid she’ll come after me?” Then the worst thought struck me. “Are you afraid I’ll turn out like her?”
“No, I wanted you to be able to take care of yourself,” he said. “It’s what my dad did with me. You were capable and always seemed to like our little training exercises.”
“I did,” I said, but the truth was I enjoyed spending time with my dad. I would have preferred fewer drills and more plain ol’ fun.
He cleared his throat. “Chase,
I was scared of losing you. I’m a soldier trained for battle, but nothing prepared me for taking care of a little baby. It was much harder than boot camp.”
“Oh,” I murmured. So that’s what I was, hard work.
“The biggest surprise and the scariest thing was how much I loved you.” His voice softened. He didn’t talk about feelings very often. “I know I’ve been overprotective, but it was only because I worry about you.”
I was feeling better, but I had to know. “What did she do? Why is she in prison?”
“She made big mistakes and is paying for them,” he said, as if he’d been practising that line all my life.
“But Dad—”
“What are you doing in my office?” Artie slammed open his office door. I sprang from his seat. He brushed me out of the way, shuffling the papers on his desk into a pile.
I managed to keep hold of the phone. “I better go,” I told Dad. “Can we talk later?”
I didn’t hear his answer because Artie ripped the phone out of my hands and hung it up. “You have no right to be in my office.” He was red-faced and shouting.
The look in his eyes scared me. “I-I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I-I needed to call my dad and let him know I was OK.” I backed away and kept right on backing out the door. He continued to bellow about privacy and respect and blah, blah, blah. How could Ariadne like this guy? He tried to appear all Mr Nice Guy but under the surface lurked Mr Nasty. When I reached the lobby, I bolted.
I ran until I reached the ocean. I saw a sign with two arrows: one to the yoga studio and the other to the Aquatic Centre. Ariadne was probably at the yoga studio, and I didn’t want to see that mother-of-a-criminal right now. My pace slowed as I weaved down the sandy path towards the Aquatic Centre. I heard footsteps behind me again.
Was Artie following me? He didn’t scare me. The worst he could do was send me home. Um, yes, please!
I whipped around. “What do you want?”
But it wasn’t Artie.
Mackenzie stood there blushing as if I’d caught her snooping in her grandma’s handbag. “I wanted to make sure you were OK.” Mackenzie said. “You were a little angry earlier.”
“I’m fine.” I replied. “Are you spying on me?”
“No,” she said, but she clearly was.
“What’s wrong with you? Yesterday you didn’t want anything to do with me, and today you won’t you leave me alone.”
“I wanted to say sorry about yesterday.” She twisted on her tiptoes. She was nervous. It was obvious from her complete and utter lack of eye contact. “I’m better with computers than people, and it’s been a long time since I saw someone my age, and there’s a lot stuff going on and I was rude and there’s no excuse for my appalling behaviour.”
I didn’t quite know what to say. I wasn’t expecting that. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” I started walking again. “I’ve got things going on too and it’s … well, I could have been nicer this morning.” I paused and called back to her. “Are you coming?”
She rushed up next to me. We gave each other these forced smiles. Neither of us knew what to say next. It wasn’t horrible, just awkward. The Aquatic Centre was up ahead. It was a large glass building with jetties fanning off it. A few rowboats were tied up there, and a Jet Ski was bobbing on the jetty nearest the beach. It was exactly the thing to take my mind off everything. When I needed to think – or not think – I’d ride my bike as fast as my wheels would take me and jump anything that got in my way.
“How about a ride?” I asked Mackenzie. I walked right over to the Jet Ski.
“They won’t let us take them out by ourselves,” she said.
I checked. It had the key in the ignition. “Then maybe we shouldn’t ask.” I hopped on the Jet Ski and felt the thrill of the race bubble inside me. “Come on.”
She looked around. No one was in sight.
“We’ll take it for a quick spin,” I said. “No one will know.”
“I don’t think so,” she said, and rubbed the scar on her neck.
“Well, I’m going with or without you,” I said, and clipped the key chord to my T-shirt.
“Do you know how to operate one of these?” she asked as she stepped closer.
“Can’t be too hard,” I said. I’d driven quadrunners on my friend’s farm before. I played with the controls until I figured out how to start and drive the thing. “You coming or what?”
“You shouldn’t go out by yourself,” she said, and climbed on behind me. “I’m only going as a safety precaution.” Was she always this much of a goody two-shoes?
“Whatever,” I muttered, but I could see a smile twitch at the corners of her mouth. She wasn’t doing this for me. She was coming along because she’d been trapped in her room staring at those computers for too long. The girl was in some desperate need of fun. I kicked us away from the jetty. We rocketed out to sea. She shrieked in surprise. Wind whipped my hair straight back while salty spray stung my skin. “Woooooohoooooo!” I shouted. Mackenzie hugged me tighter as I pushed the machine faster and faster.
If I wasn’t so freaked out by my criminal history, I’d have loved this: jetting out to sea with nothing but speed to feed me. My body hummed with the vibration from the engine, but my head rattled with worry.
My mom was a criminal who had made mistakes. Dad clearly said mistakes with an S. I had made MISTAKES too – all capitals and many, many S’s – from wrecking my bike jumping the neighbour’s pond last year to borrowing and ripping my friend’s favourite jeans to redecorating the front hall of our house with a crayon mural when I was five. Maybe Dad wasn’t afraid that I’d end up like Mom. But I was. I shared her bad DNA. I punched the accelerator again, attempting to escape these new fears about me and my mom.
As the island faded from sight, I realized I liked having Mackenzie along for the ride – even if she was digging her manicured fingernails into me and screeching in my ear. It might have been a bit scary out here on my own. Mackenzie was shouting something at me, but I couldn’t understand over the roar of the engine and the rush of the wind. She was probably saying slow down, which I didn’t want to do. Speed was the only thing that was keeping me from going crazy.
“Chase! Chase!” she leaned in and shouted directly in my ear. I brushed her back. She pounded her fist on my ribs.
“What?” I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. She was pointing straight ahead.
I followed her line of sight. We were headed straight for a super-sized yacht. My response was instinctual but stupid. I jerked away from the yacht. Mackenzie and I went flying off the Jet Ski and plunged into the ocean.
I was disoriented but only for a second. I pulled myself towards the light. I was used to wrecking my bike. I knew how to crash-land from years of experience. I assumed the only things rugged about Mackenzie were her credit cards from buying expensive designer clothes. I burst through the surface of the water and spun around and around. “Mackenzie! Mackenzie!”
The yacht was anchored maybe one hundred feet away. The Jet Ski had skidded about the same distance in the opposite direction. Panic zapped me. If we’d hit that big thing at the speed I was going, we’d be scattered like fish food across our little bit of the Indian Ocean.
“Mackenzie!” I flailed in the water, splashing in one direction and then the other. What had I done? No life vest. No helmets. I’d acted recklessly, and Mackenzie could really be hurt. Could my life skid out of control this easily? Did one mistake like this set my mom on her path to prison? If Mackenzie was really hurt, my grandma would never forgive me, and I’d never forgive myself. How could I be so stupid?
“Mackenzie!” I called again, more desperate, more scared.
And then a springy head of curls sprang from the water. Mackenzie spat and spluttered. She was going to be furious with me. She whipped curls away from her face. “That was bloody amazing,” she said, and burst out laughing. A smile electrified her face. She looked like a different girl.
I swam over to
her. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she said, and splashed me. “I loved it. How did you know how to zigzag and jump waves like that?”
“You know computers, I know bikes.” I splashed her back.
“What a feeling! I never knew. We were out there in the middle of nowhere and you zipped here and there—” She was a Coke bottle that had been shaken for ever and then – wham! – she was bursting with excitement.
“Yeah, I know, right,” I interrupted her stream of conscious babbling. “I’ve never driven that fast before, and in the water it’s like you’re flying, and then when we crashed. That was, like … wow!”
“Can I drive this time?” She bounced in the water.
“Yeah, sure,” I said.
I swam for the Jet Ski while she did his weird doggy paddle, whipping her hair from side to side as if she didn’t want to put her face underwater. I reached the Jet Ski first. It wasn’t easy to climb back on. I finally scrabbled back on the seat as Mackenzie reached me. I steadied the Jet Ski and helped her on.
“We need to go,” she whispered and fumbled with the key. Her smile was gone and she seemed nervous again.
“OK,” I said. She was shivering even though it was boiling hot out here.
“Please, Chase,” her voice trembled.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Someone’s watching us.” She nodded towards the yacht. “I should never have left the island.”
I glanced at the yacht. She was right. Someone was on the top deck with binoculars trained on us. We’d almost rammed their ship so it wasn’t so weird that they were checking us out. But I could feel it too; something wasn’t right. Maybe it was Mackenzie’s reaction or the way the guy kept right on watching us until we zoomed out of sight. Mackenzie drove us straight back to the island at half the speed I’d managed. I thought I spotted a sea turtle passing us.
The only thing worse than some creepy rich guy leering at us was the sight of an absolutely furious Artie and Ariadne when we returned to the Aquatic Centre. I’d been here less than twenty-four hours and I was already in colossal trouble. Maybe I was part criminal after all.
