Snowbirds

by Crissa Chappell

“But you’re still mad.”

  I look at the floor.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” she says.

  “Are you going to tell the truth now?”

  Alice sighs. “Where do I start?”

  “How about the beginning?”

  “Okay.”

  Alice shrugs out of her jean jacket. She collapses into the chair across from me, like she can’t hold herself up anymore.

  “That night at the party, I got a little wasted.” She takes a breath. “This is so embarrassing. Please don’t hate me.”

  “I don’t hate you.”

  There’s more I need to say. “I waited on the beach. What happened to you?”

  Alice lowers her head.

  “Why can’t you tell me?” I shout, but she won’t even look up. After all I’ve been through, don’t I have a right to know the truth?

  She owes me that much.

  “Fine,” I say, buttoning up my coat. “I can’t believe you used to be my friend.”

  “Lucy, wait,” she says, like that’s going to make me stay. “Just give me time to explain.”

  “You’ve had enough time,” I say, marching across the room.

  Alice follows behind me. “Please don’t go.”

  She’s changed. That’s for sure. I turn and study her face. The tiny gold hoops pinching her ears. A softness in her voice that wasn’t there before. Her jaw clenched tight.

  I’ve changed too. I steered the truck into cold water. Slept in a boy’s arms under the stars. Walked away from my baptism. Dad. The orange grove and the oaks thick with Spanish moss. All I knew back home in Pinecraft.

  Everything around us has shifted like the tide. Maybe that’s what friends do. We move and flow in different directions. I’ll never stop caring about Alice. It’s not like she tried to hurt me, yet our friendship will never be the same. I feel the dull ache of sadness sweeping over me. But I also feel relief, as strong as the ocean’s pulse.

  As I reach for the door, she’s crying.

  Still, I don’t turn around.

  I leave.

  chapter thirty

  over the mountain

  The road outside the garage is dappled with snow. I don’t know where I’m headed. It doesn’t matter, just as long as it’s away from Alice.

  I can’t believe she did this to me. The whole world turned upside down when she disappeared. At least, that’s what it felt like. And I still don’t know the truth. Why is she hiding at her dad’s? Is it really so awful, she can’t talk about it?

  We used to tell each other everything. I think about the empty lot in Pinecraft, the mango trees we used to climb. Long days at the beach, digging for sand dollars. It didn’t matter that our families aren’t the same. The world was small enough for both of us. But it’s not so small anymore.

  I never thought I’d be this far from home. Never believed it was possible. Yeah, I used to wish for it. When Alice gave me that book about the ocean, I almost gave it back. Why bother wishing for something you can’t have?

  Now I’m farther from the Gulf than I’ve ever been. When I was little, I used to dream that the surf went on forever. It was easy to imagine the tide drifting into the horizon. One day it will disappear. The water will pull away from the shore. Oceans will fade into sand.

  When I built the gazebo with Dad, I noticed the knots in the wood, swirling patterns like a fingerprint. The tree used to be alive. Then it turned into something else. If I buried it in the ground, another tree might grow out of it.

  The world is a living thing that changes and grows.

  It will keep changing and so will I.

  “Lucy?”

  I hear Alice calling. Yeah, like I’m going to turn around. She’s had enough chances. Too many, if you ask me.

  “Please,” Alice says, running up the path. “You probably want to skin me alive.”

  “You’re right,” I mutter.

  “I totally understand why you’re mad.”

  “Then leave.”

  As soon as it pops out of my mouth, I realize what I’ve said. The same words Alice threw at me, the night she disappeared.

  Alice must remember too. When I finally turn around, I see the tears dribbling down her neck and I feel bad all over again.

  “Let’s go back inside.” I stretch out my hand. For a moment, I’m not sure she’s going to take it. Alice stares at it, then grabs hold. Together we walk back to her dad’s garage, our footprints stamping the path.

  The garage is warm. Almost too warm as I sink into Mr. Yoder’s big leather chair.

  Alice sits across from me, wiping her eyes. “Thanks for giving me another chance. I know you’re really angry.”

  I was angry.

  “When you didn’t show up on the beach, I thought you were dead.”

  “I know,” she says quietly.

  “You know? Well, here’s what I don’t know. Why have you been lying all this time about your dad?”

  I need to know the truth.

  That’s all I can ask for.

  “I can explain,” she says.

  “And Tobias?”

  “At first, he seemed really cool,” she says, looking at the floor. “I could tell him anything. He’s the only one who really understood.”

  What about me?

  That’s what I want to say.

  “We used to play these games online,” she mumbles. “It sounds kind of stupid now.”

  “You had a secret world.”

  “Yeah,” she says. “Guess it’s not so secret anymore.”

  “And he used you.”

  She lifts her head. “How did you find out?”

  “I talked to him.”

  “When?” she asks, surprised.

  I can tell she wasn’t expecting that.

  “A couple days ago. Me and Faron tracked him down at the cannery.”

  “You went all the way out there?”

  “I figured if you’re looking for trouble, it’s not hard to find.”

  “What did he tell you?”

  “He didn’t know you were Amish at first.”

  She smiles. “That’s why I loved going online. Nobody judged me there. I could finally be myself, you know?”

  I do know.

  When I hear Alice talking like that, I can’t help thinking of Crystal. She told me the same thing, the day she called me a princess.

  “It wasn’t easy,” says Alice. “Sneaking into the library, once my chores were done. I had to walk real far, just to get there. It was the safest place I could find.”

  If Alice wanted to do something, no soul on earth could stop her. That much I knew. And when she called the library her safe place, I understood that, too. Just like the doves inside a sand dollar, we kept our secrets.

  “I saw these girls playing a game online. And it looked like fun,” Alice explains. “Back home, we weren’t even allowed to play baseball. Especially if you’re a girl,” she adds.

  I nod, remembering what Faron told me. When you hear no all the time, you’re aching to hear a yes.

  “They showed me how to play Warcraft,” she says. “It’s this game where you can change into different people.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “That’s how I met Tobias. We started talking online. At first, it was just about the game. Then he gave me his phone number. I couldn’t call him from my house. So I needed my own cell. And he bought one for me.” She shakes her head. “It was so amazing. I never had something like that before. But then I had to explain. I mean, about being different,” she says. And I know exactly what she means.

  “When did you finally meet in real life?” I ask.

  She hesitates for a moment. “It was hard, trying to find a place to meet without Mom getting in the way. We had it all planned out. I’d go to the Amish Market, like I always did on the weekend. I’d make some excuse about staying behind to clean up.”

  “But you were with Tobias.”

  “That’s right,” she says, blu
shing. “He’d wait out in the field behind the parking lot until I came out.”

  The way she’s talking, it sounds so exciting. Almost too good to be true. And that’s when I can’t sit still anymore. Can’t listen to her talk about this boy as if he’s the end of the ocean. After all, there’s no such thing.

  “Tobias said you ditched him at the party.”

  “Well, he’s half right,” she says. “We were supposed to go to the bus station in the morning. But we got in a major fight. He took my cell phone away. And he stole my money.”

  “Sounds like that’s all he cared about.”

  “Well, he didn’t get all of it,” says Alice. “You want it? For real. You should have it.”

  “I can’t take your money.”

  I want to ask another question. An important one.

  “Did Tobias hit you?”

  She doesn’t answer.

  I get up from the chair and put my arms around her. “It’s not your fault, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong. I just want you to know . . . I’m here.”

  Alice looks at me.

  “Yeah, he did,” she says, her voice shaking. “I kept telling myself, ‘Oh, it won’t happen again. It was an accident. He didn’t mean to do it.’ Most of the time, he was really nice to me. He’d buy all this stuff. It made me feel special, you know?”

  “And he did it again.”

  She nods. “It was like he was wearing a mask. When we were at the party, it got really bad. So I grabbed my stuff and walked back to Pinecraft.”

  “You walked?”

  “What was I supposed to do? Tobias just left me there. I was so drunk, I actually thought I could make it home. But I didn’t get very far.”

  “You walked all that way?”

  “Most of it,” she says. “At least, I was walking until I passed out.”

  “What?” I can’t believe this.

  “I told you, Lucy. It’s the most embarrassing thing ever. I woke up in the grass somewhere near Bahia Vista. Then I walked home.”

  “Your mom came to my house the next day.”

  “She did?” Alice says.

  “I didn’t tell her about your boyfriend or whatever.”

  “For real?” Alice hugs me again. “You’re the best, Lucy. I’m so sorry that I dragged you into this. You deserve so much better.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “Did you ever make it to Lido Key that night?” she asks.

  “Yeah, I was on the beach.”

  “All by yourself?” She smirks.

  “Faron drove me.”

  “So you guys are together now?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I have a good feeling about him,” she says. “You’re really lucky. You know that, right?”

  I don’t believe in luck. But Alice has got me thinking. Maybe if I did, that’s exactly what I’d be.

  “Dad told me you were here with a boy,” she says, smiling.

  “That’s funny. I didn’t know ghosts could talk.”

  Alice blushes. “There’s a lot of stuff I need to explain.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “My dad left the Old Order when I was really little. I didn’t really understand what was going on.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It was a big secret. My mom told everybody he was dead.”

  “But you knew he wasn’t.”

  “Yeah, I knew.” Alice gets this far-off look on her face. “I used to see him sometimes. I’d be walking to church. But I had to act like he wasn’t there. I wasn’t allowed to talk to my dad. He was like a ghost.”

  “That must’ve been really hard.”

  “Mom always talked bad about him. I didn’t know what to believe. But she doesn’t control my life anymore.”

  “What made your dad change his mind about being Amish?”

  She doesn’t answer.

  “Did something bad happen to him?” I ask gently. “Something that made him lose his faith?”

  “It was a long time ago,” Alice says, glancing at the wall.

  I follow her eyes, and that’s when I notice the Amish calendar above the desk. The black-and-white picture of a lake in winter. A pair of little girls in dark bonnets, marching through the woods.

  “We were skipping stones on the lake,” she says, her voice breaking. “He couldn’t reach both of us in time. Me and my little sister. It happened so fast.” Alice is crying now. All the world’s tears pouring out of her. Everything she’s held inside.

  I try to imagine it. Alice dropping through the ice in one quick motion. Her dad pulling her to safety. The other little girl slipping away, her mouth open in a silent scream.

  . . . only one made it . . .

  “After the accident, he lost faith in himself,” says Alice, looking at the floor. “That’s when he left the church.”

  “So your dad wasn’t shunned? It was his choice to walk away?”

  “You always have a choice.”

  Yeah, that’s what I’ve heard all my life. But it doesn’t feel that way. Not when your choices have to be perfect.

  I put my arm around her. “It’s not your dad’s fault. No matter what your mom says.”

  Alice finally stops shaking. She rubs her face on her sleeve. “Every time we came to Pinecraft, I had to act like he was dead. My mom was so embarrassed about him leaving the church. We got real good at pretending,” she says, making me think of the games online.

  The longer you tell a lie, the more it sounds like the truth.

  “And my dad . . . he gave me a choice,” she says.

  “What do you mean?”

  “He asked if I wanted to go with him.”

  “Before he left the Old Order?”

  “Yeah,” she says. “Of course I stayed with Mom. I was really small. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do.”

  Alice was just a little kid. How could she make such a big decision? Maybe even harder than Rumspringa.

  “How did you find him again?” I ask.

  “I did a search online. It wasn’t that hard. This was back at the library in Pinecraft. I found the place where he works. When I found out it wasn’t too far away, I was really sad. I mean, he was right here, but I couldn’t talk to him.”

  They were living in two separate worlds. It’s not like Alice could do anything about it. Still, I know why she was sad.

  “The day after the party, Mom was looking all over Pinecraft for me. You should’ve seen her face when I finally walked home. She grabbed all my stuff and we got on the bus. As soon as we got back to Maine, I ran next door and called my dad.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

  “I didn’t think you’d understand.”

  “Not even your best friend?”

  “Things are different in Florida. The real world’s a lot harder.”

  “That doesn’t mean it’s okay to hide from it.”

  “You’re right, Lucy. I’m so sorry. I really messed up.” She starts to cry again, big, wet sobs that make her whole body shake. “I tried to call your dad’s cell a couple days ago. He said you were gone.”

  I almost start crying too. At the same time, I feel a complete sense of calm. It sweeps over me like water in a tide pool.

  “It’s okay,” I tell her.

  And it is.

  “Come on,” she says. “There’s this amazing place I want to show you.”

  We head outside and start walking. In the woods behind Mr. Yoder’s auto shop there’s a slab of rock jutting above a stream. It reminds me of storm clouds on the beach, the way they brush against the horizon.

  “You have to see it up close,” says Alice, splashing across the shallow water.

  I follow her through the stream. We make our way toward the slab of rock. I almost slip a couple times, but never fall.

  “Now look,” she says, grabbing my hand. She guides my fingers across the rugged surface. I feel like the rock’s talking to me, whispering secrets from the past. I p
ress my hand against it and trace something familiar.

  “A seashell?”

  Alice laughs. “A really big seashell.”

  I’ve read about fossils buried in the earth. This is the real thing, a glimpse of a world flooded with water, a billion years ago. I trace the bones in the rock and think of Lido Key, the seashells washed up at dawn, the secrets they keep, like the doves hidden inside a sand dollar.

  • • •

  When we get back to Mr. Yoder’s shop, the garage door is flung wide open. Faron’s sitting behind the wheel of that old car with the fins. Alice’s dad is next to him, and the radio’s cranked up real loud. They’re having so much fun, I almost feel like I’m in the way.

  Mr. Yoder climbs out and Alice runs over to him. She gives her dad a hug and whispers something in his ear.

  “This is Lucy. We’ve been friends forever,” she tells him.

  “So I’ve heard,” he says, as if we’re meeting all over again. “Well, Miss Lucy. If you ever need a favor, let me know.”

  “How about a ride to the bus station?”

  He laughs. “Which one?”

  “The bus that goes to Florida.”

  “I think we can manage that,” he says.

  I glance at Faron.

  This time, he’s not coming with me.

  Mr. Yoder seems to know what I’m thinking. “How come your boyfriend knows so much about cars?”

  “He taught himself.”

  “Same here,” Mr. Yoder says. “Guess it’s not so bad, learning something if you love it.” He takes out a pen and jots a string of numbers on a slip of paper. “Tell him to give my friend a call. Maybe they can help you out. We’re all family, right?”

  Maybe it’s selfish, but I can’t help wishing things were different. But Faron has his own dreams, just like I’ve got mine. I won’t get in his way, no matter how much I want us to be together.

  Mr. Yoder turns to Alice. “I’ll get the truck started. Heat’s frigged up again. The core’s leaking something fierce.”

  “Just another reason I want my own car,” she says.

  I think for a second.

  “You know there’s a bunch of old cars at the lake, right?”

  “What about it?”

  “I heard there’s a truck that sunk to the bottom,” I tell her. “It’s just sitting there, waiting for someone to make it new again.”

  “So who owns this mysterious underwater truck?” she asks.