by Rebecca Sky
‘What was all that about, earlier?’ he asks.
‘What?’
He waves to the boat. ‘The whole Eros thing and the card?’
‘Oh, he gave me a couple things to help save my family—’
‘Right,’ he says, gripping tighter to the accelerator. I’m afraid he’ll get speedy like he did in the van. ‘And when did that happen?’
‘This morning, when you couldn’t find me.’
Ben slows the boat to an idle and turns to face me. ‘You’re serious?’
‘Yes.’
‘I was that close to a god?’
I can’t tell by his expression if he is mad or curious, or both. ‘I was pretty surprised about it myself. All the years of learning about Eros, I never thought I’d meet him. I didn’t even think the gods came to earth.’
His eyes narrow and he turns back to the wheel. ‘Funny how they pick and choose when to help.’
His tone is so icy he sounds like a different person. ‘Sorry?’
‘It’s just …’ He glances over, returning his attention to the river and accelerating. ‘Would’ve been nice if one of them helped my family. Seems a waste of whatever power they have to help some kid buy a boat.’
There’s that word again, kid. Hearing him call me that stings more than I’d like to admit. But I understand he’s upset so I try to ignore it. ‘I’m going to explore below deck,’ I tell him.
I descend the ladder into the galley, taking deep calming breaths. My stomach rumbles so I rummage through the cupboards, finding a couple of cans of beans and a six-pack of apple sauce. Not much, but it will do until we restock. I sit on the small booth-style table and eat an apple sauce. My eyes grow heavier with exhaustion. I fold my arms and rest my head, surrendering to a much-needed nap.
When I wake, I continue exploring. There’s a closet-like room jutting from the wall. I open it to find a toilet, with no sink.
At the end of the galley is a bright yellow door. It stands out against the industrial grey colours the rest of the boat’s decorated in. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I look inside to find a colourful array of clothing and accessories, similar to what Heinz’s statues were dressed in.
I pull out a green wig and try it on, giggling at my appearance in the nearby mirror. I grab a few more items: a bright red oversized bow tie and pink furry handcuffs with the key in them. Then I head back to the deck, hoping my ridiculous look will cheer Ben up.
When he sees the green wig and red bow tie, he laughs. It’s an airy throat laugh but it’s a start. ‘What’s down there?’
‘You know, typical Heinz and Frieda stuff.’
I hold out the fuzzy handcuffs and his eyes go wide. ‘Aren’t they too old for that?’
I laugh my way over to his side, sticking the wig on his head.
‘You were out for a few hours. We’re already in the Gulf,’ he says, pulling the green hair off and hanging it on the corner of the helm. ‘I didn’t stop for food yet. I figured we could do that when we gas up.’
‘What?’ I exit the bridge and look over the rail to the open stretch of light blue waters. The sun is behind us, which doesn’t seem right. I return to the helm and notice the compass – north is in the opposite direction to where we are going. The open ocean is to my left. If we’re en route to New York shouldn’t the land be on our left?
‘Ben?’ I say slowly. ‘Where are we going?’
He lets out a long breath. ‘I was hoping it would take you longer to notice.’
‘What?’ My hands are shaking. ‘Tell me.’
He sighs. ‘I can’t support your stupid plan, even if the gods do. I’m not going to let you turn yourself in for Marissa and Kyle.’
‘What about ma and dad? And Joyce. You have no right to decide what I choose to do!’
His head snaps to me. ‘You want to talk about rights? It’s not right that you’ll pay for their actions. You’re not like them, Rachel.’
My chest bounces with rapid breaths. If only Ben knew how much like them I am. I plan to turn an officer. Hell, I plan to turn as many people as needed to help me free my family. But the last thing I want is for Ben to hate me. I hate it enough for the both of us.
‘Where are you taking me?’ I repeat.
‘Mexico. The police won’t look for you there. You can start a new life.’
‘I don’t want a new life!’ It surprises me coming out. I’ve spent my whole life wishing for something different. But I’ve come to realize that though my family isn’t perfect, they’re my family. And right now they need me. ‘Ben, turn the boat around.’
His brow knits together. ‘No.’
‘Please. You know what it’s like losing a family. How can you ask me to lose mine?’
He flinches at my words. ‘No.’
I throw the furry handcuffs to the ground in frustration. They skid across the deck and land by Ben’s feet, sparking an idea.
When he isn’t looking, I retrieve the cuffs, leaving the bridge room with its door flapping open, and head to the back of the boat. I step on the rail and climb to the other side. I struggle to get a good foot grip, turning my back to the railing, and facing the choppy waves. All that’s keeping me from the ocean is my deathlike grip.
‘Ben!’ I yell over my shoulder. ‘If you don’t turn this boat around, I’m jumping.’
‘Stop playing,’ he calls back, his voice sounding distant over the breeze.
The white wake bubbles bellow my sneakers. ‘This isn’t a game. This is my family’s lives.’
Ben growls and smacks the wheel and the boat slows to an idle. He comes to me and grabs my waist, pulling me over. I don’t fight him as he plops me on the safe side, thinking he’s won. Instead, I walk away, and as he steps after me he’s jerked back to the rail by his wrist.
‘Rachel!’ He holds up his handcuffed arm.
‘Your hero act is predictable.’ I go to the bridge, cranking the wheel to the side with my whole weight and pushing down on the throttle.
‘Rachel, stop this!’
He tugs the handcuff, causing a clanking racket as he tries to break free.
‘I have to help them,’ I say.
The boat rocks roughly under my inexperience. I steer around waves, trying to avoid them. One large one slams into the side, spilling water over the bow, and knocking me to my butt.
‘Seriously, Rachel. Unhook me now!’ The clanging metal grows in desperation.
‘Tell me how to drive this thing.’ I scramble back to my feet and grab the wheel, trying to stabilize us.
‘You don’t know what you’re doing. Unhook me and I’ll drive it.’
‘No.’
‘For god’s sake, then, steer into the waves. The boat handles them better front on.’
I do as he says and manage to get the feel of driving the thing.
As time passes, the clinking sound of Ben trying to escape his cuffs doesn’t stop, but it does slow in vigour. Every once in a while, he begs for me to let him go. I pretend I don’t hear.
‘How are these things so strong?’ he grunts to himself.
Soon the sun begins its descent. The wind picks up, and so do the waves. With the loss of light, it’s getting hard to see and even harder to steer the boat. I can barely drive a car let alone something the size of a small bus. The reality of what I’ve got us into starts to freak me out.
‘Ben, it’s dark. I can’t see.’
‘Unhook me and I’ll turn the lights on.’
‘If I unhook you will you take me to New York?’
‘If you let me go, I’ll lock you to the rail and take you to Mexico.’
I can’t help smiling at his honesty, or the goofy look on his face.
‘Oh, you’re proud of that one, aren’t you?’
‘A little,’ he says.
A big wave rocks the boat and I screech, clinging tighter to the wheel. The clinking of metal stops. Finally, he lets out a long sigh. ‘Please, Rachel, consider Mexico.’
‘I c
an’t do that to my family and friends.’ I wish I could tell you everything, Ben.
‘Listen, I know it’s hard to understand, but it was their actions that led them where they are, Rach, not yours. You shouldn’t have to do this.’
‘How can you say that?’
‘Do you even have to ask?’
For the most part he’s right, but he’s the one who doesn’t really understand.
When I don’t reply he continues. ‘I lost my whole family because of one drunk bastard’s decision. The court only gave him four years. Four! He took everything from me. I can’t believe their lives are worth so little.’ He pauses. ‘Now you’re the closest thing to family I have and you’re asking me to hand you over. Not gonna happen.’
It takes me a while to process what he’s saying. I couldn’t imagine the pain. ‘I’m sorry about your family. What happened wasn’t right. But if you won’t do it for me, will you at least do it for Kyle and Joyce and my dad? They didn’t ask for what my ma and Marissa did to them.’
He stops wrestling the cuffs.
‘I’m like them, Ben. As much as I hate it, I am. I can hurt you, or someone else. It’s only a matter of time. I hate it, but it is what it is. If anyone should pay for that it should be me, not them.’
‘Fine.’ He growls and pulls one last time on the handcuffs. ‘I hate these things.’
I slow the boat. ‘You’ll help me?’
‘Rach?’
‘Yes, Ben?’
‘You know that I’m doing this for you, right? Not them.’
The boat’s interior light illuminates my way. It’s dark and rocky, so I take my time, struggling to balance, as I head to Ben.
‘Hurry,’ he says.
‘A little patience.’ I reach him and fumble with the cuff.
‘You left the boat running – we’re drifting god knows where.’
The key’s in the lock and it’s one twist to let him go, but I pause. ‘You promise you won’t take me to Mexico?’
He tilts his head and narrows his eyes; the light from the bridge doesn’t cut enough through the dark for me to see their blue hue, and I miss it.
‘The one thing our friendship has going for it is that we’re honest with each other, Rach. That’s not going to change now.’
I swallow the confession creeping to my lips.
He watches my change in disposition and nudges my arm. ‘I know there’s something you’re not telling me. You took off on me pretty quick when we started talking about Eros, how could I not? But I trust you. You’ll tell me when you’re ready.’ He wags his arm, reminding me he’s still attached to the rail.
I smile and uncuff him. He rubs his wrists, and stretches his back. I can’t help noticing his skin is red from all the tugging, and I feel bad for that.
I reach out, hesitating when my gift surges, and run my gloved fingers over the raw skin. There’s a faded bruise by his knuckles from the incident at the church. ‘Ben, I’m sorry …’
‘It’s nothing.’ He smiles and goes to the helm stand, pushing a button that causes low lights to shine out from the boat. ‘It’s choppier than I thought. These lights don’t really do anything to cut through the darkness. I think it’s better if we anchor closer to shore. We can keep going in the morning.’
I grip the rail and glance out at the waves. I am tired – fighting back my gift takes more out of me than I’d like. I could use the sleep.
‘Plus,’ Ben adds over his shoulder, ‘with the extra time I may be able to convince you to change your mind.’
‘I don’t think so.’ I walk up beside him, and he flicks the oversized bow tie I forgot I was wearing.
‘Since you’re an expert captain now, can you hold the wheel while I lower the anchor?’
I nod and shuffle in front of him. He stands behind me, the heat of his body making my skin tingle. When he leaves, it feels like a blanket is ripped away, exposing me to the cold.
He sets to work lowering the anchor. His back tightens under his thin white V-neck, and shadows define his toned arms. The bridge room is getting hot.
When he finishes, he stands on the bow, waving at me through the glass. I take in the way his shirt sticks to his chest in the wind. It makes the muscles in my stomach contract. It’s going to be a struggle to fight back my feelings over these next few days alone with him.
‘Should we share the bed downstairs?’ he asks, pushing through the door into the small bridge room.
I inhale quickly. Share a bed with Ben? I doubt I could contain my gift if I did. The van was hard enough. But I only have a few days with him before we reach New York. Then I may never see him again, and even if I do, I won’t know who he is. Maybe this trip is a stolen gift? A chance, just to be close, one final time. My stomach aches from my tightened muscles, and my gift tingles under my skin. When the taste of copper floods my mouth, I realize I’m biting my cheek.
‘It’s warm out,’ I say. ‘Why don’t we pull some blankets and sleep on the deck, under the stars?’
He returns to the bridge room and closes the door. ‘Warm? We’re inside and you’re practically shivering.’
That’s not from the cold, Ben, that’s from being close to you. ‘The blankets will help.’
‘All right.’ He lowers himself down the ladder to the sleeping cabin. When he comes back, he has only one blanket and pillow. ‘I’ll stay up here, you get some sleep in the bed,’ he says
My lips open to protest. ‘But—’
‘Don’t worry about me, Rachel.’
We stop in Outlet Bay to refuel. I grab the groceries and head to the internet café, finding a computer at the back. I bring up a private window and search: how to fake getting shot and what do police do with a body found at a crime scene? I read everything I find about film production shooting scenes and coroners and medical examiners until a plan begins to form.
I open another window, pull up Quiver and click into my chat with Surrender2Love.
ME: Get ready. I’m a few days away from New York. You’ll need one of those stunt man bullets that make it look like I’m bleeding.
I check again for Paisley, but she’s still offline and there’s no update from her mom. Marissa’s offline too, and my stomach sinks just thinking about what she must be going through right now. I push the feelings aside and return to the search results – this is how I help them now. Out the corner of my eye, I see Ben enter the café. I panic and close all the windows, ending my session. He doesn’t know about the staged shooting. He’d never let me go through with it. I grab the groceries and make my way over. He’s smiling from ear to ear and gripping a comic book.
‘What do you have there?’ I nod to the comic rolled in his hand.
‘Don’t mock The Punisher. Last time someone made fun of me for reading it I got in a fight and broke my nose.’ Now that he mentions it, his nose does slant a little to the left.
‘I would never.’ I fight back a smirk. ‘It’s just, I didn’t take you for a comic guy.’
He chuckles. ‘I’m a reader. But my love for comics I get from my mom. She was a Spanish teacher and the only way she could get me to learn was buying me Spanish translations of The Punisher when I was a kid.’ He smiles down at the cover, absently running his fingers over it.
He clears his throat and takes the groceries from me, leading me out the store.
A heavy whacking sound fills the air.
‘A helicopter,’ I gasp out loud. ‘There was one at the church and it sounded like when Kyle and Marissa—’
‘It’s probably nothing, Rach.’ Ben ushers me forward. ‘Let’s head to the boat,’ he says, reassuring me, but as we walk away, he glances back.
The night sky presses down the sunlight, leaving a strip of fiery orange on the horizon.
‘I’m going to head to shore and find somewhere to set anchor. You excited? We’re a few days behind schedule, but … one more sleep,’ Ben says, pouring the last of the tea into the thermos lid and handing it to me.
‘I’m nervous, actually.’ The closer we come to New York, the more worried I’ve become about losing him, and about making sure my plan works. Everything hinges on me using my ability. Something I’ve never done on purpose before.
He frowns and tosses the empty thermos on to the captain’s chair. ‘Changed your mind?’
I cup the tea, savouring the warmth, watching the steam rise to the wood-panelled roof, fogging the dome light. Part of me wants to follow him to Mexico. If only for another week or two alone in the boat. ‘You know I haven’t.’
‘All right then, your turn to do dishes.’
I glare at him and he smiles a mega-watt smile back.
We find a cove to anchor in and Ben starts setting up his bed under the skylight in the bridge.
‘You know what?’ I say.
He pauses, folded blanket in hand. ‘What?’
‘You can’t have all the fun. I’m sleeping up here too.’ With the best pretend-mad face I can muster, I stomp the short distance to him and take the blanket out of his hands. ‘We need another blanket.’
He laughs his way down the ladder. A few minutes pass, then Ben grunts as he makes his way back up.
An edge of a mattress appears over the top. It falters up and down looking like it’s about to fall.
‘A little help, please?’
I grab the corner, pulling the heavy mattress on to the deck. It clears the opening, and I fall back, the bed crashing down on top of me.
Ben lifts the corner exposing my face. ‘I brought you the mattress. I know how much of a princess you can be when your demands aren’t met. Last time I was left imprisoned to the rail, Marissa, oops, I mean Rachel.’
‘That’s it!’ I push his knees, buckling him to the deck, then I crawl out and scramble to my feet. ‘Where are those darn handcuffs?’
Ben pushes on to his elbows. His eyes widen, but a smile spreads over his face. ‘I threw them overboard. What else you got?’
I smack him with the pillow. ‘If you weren’t so cute, I’d be really mad right now.’ The words escape before I realize what I’m saying. I stop mid swing, eyes wide, waiting for his response.
His smile hardens into a thin line. He pushes off the floor and steps closer to the door to the outside deck. My heartbeat races, slamming nervously against my ribcage.
