The Different Girl (7 page)

“W-which—I’m sorry—I forgot your name.”

“I’m Veronika. My hair is red. I found you.”

“Veronika saved your life,” said Robbert.

May looked down and squeezed the rubber bag. “Thank you.”

“Can we look at your pictures?” I asked.

“May should eat something first,” said Irene. “At least her soup.”

Now May was sniffing. She wiped her nose on her fingers and then her fingers on her shorts. She leaned forward to eat. I stayed where I was, next to her, since I’d been the one to make her talk.

• • •

In the end May ate her noodles, too, and the table was cleared and wiped so nothing spilled could touch the pictures. We expected May to describe each one in turn, because that was what we did, but instead she unzipped the bag and looked through them all without talking. Eleanor was about to speak, just ahead of me wanting to speak, but Robbert put his hand on her shoulder. We were to wait, because this was something new. Usually this meant an unfamiliar bird or cloud—different, but belonging to a group we already knew. May was another different altogether. Her group was the group of girls, which had been our group, but her being in it changed everything. From now on we were us compared to her.

This was even more true when May began to talk.

“The
Mary
is our boat. I lived there since I can remember, with Will, my uncle Will, and then later with Cat, too—Cat is my other uncle, though he’s not my real uncle, but the
Mary
needs two people who can sail. In another year I could make three. I can do almost everything. That’s Cat.”

She pointed to the smiling man who held the fish in the fifth picture. Irene pointed to the first picture, of the two men on the dock.

“Is one of these men your uncle Will?”

May shook her head. “Those are friends of Cat.”

“Where do they live? Where is that?”

May sniffed. “Port Orange.”

“That’s quite a distance,” said Robbert. “Do you live there, keep a berth? Is that where you have family?”

May only shook her head.

“Not everyone feels welcome in Port Orange any more, do they, Irene?”

“They’d feel welcome if they had family,” Irene said. “If they had a school, or a church.”

May shrugged and stared down at the pictures.

“Where else did you sail in the
Mary
?” Robbert asked. “What was the biggest place?”

“Will doesn’t like us to talk. About any of that.”

“Why not?”

“We like to be left alone.”

“So do we,” said Robbert. May nodded, as if his words meant something more. She wiped her nose on her sleeve, turning her face since the sleeve was short.

“We’re traveling people. We take cargo and messages, and we catch fish.”

“What about Tarawa?” Irene asked. “Were you ever there?”

May shook her head.

“Not ever?”

“Not for a long time.”

“Since things changed?”

May shrugged, like she wasn’t sure.

“Didn’t the people in Port Orange make you to go to their school?” asked Robbert.

May shook her head. “Will and Cat said no.”

“I didn’t think they let anyone say no.”

“I don’t know. I guess I stayed out of sight below.”

“When you took things for people, carried cargo, did you know what it was?” Irene pointed to the crates on the dock in the first picture. “Was it always things like this—this big? Or smaller?”

May thought about all the different crates. “Usually smaller.”

“Did you know what was in them?”

“Will never let me.”

“But you looked,” said Irene. “Didn’t you, May?”

May turned. She didn’t answer at once. She was staring at Caroline’s hair. “Sometimes books. Sometimes chips and wires. Or parts to make machines. Mostly we set up meets with other boats offshore—then go into port afterward, all empty, so a search didn’t matter.”

Irene and Robbert looked at each other. “Your uncle Will sounds very careful,” said Robbert. “Everyone has to be careful these days, don’t they, May?”

Isobel tugged at Robbert’s sleeve. “Do you know May’s uncle or his friend Cat?”

“Maybe the men on our supply boat know them,” said Eleanor. “Maybe we can ask.”

“Can you read, May?” asked Irene, not paying attention to Eleanor.

May shrugged.

“We read very well,” said Eleanor.

“Is that your parrot?” asked Isobel, pointing.

“No.”

“What happened to your finger?”

“I caught it on a fishhook.”

“Why is your boat named
Mary
?”

“Mary was Will’s mother. She died.”

“Did she have an accident?”

“What happened in the storm?” asked Caroline.

Irene put a hand on Caroline’s shoulder, because at that question May went still again.

“I don’t know,” she finally said. “I fell out of my bunk. It was dark, it was too noisy to hear. I fell into water—water in the cabin. I shouted for Will and Cat. I went on deck. I should have stayed below. I couldn’t hear anyone. I didn’t know. The swells were too big. I couldn’t hang on.”

“What are swells?” asked Eleanor, blinking. “What is deck”?

May sniffed.

“Swell is another word for wave,” said Irene quietly. “Deck is the floor on a boat.”

We all nodded, filling things in.

“Why did you have your bag?” I asked May.

“We might be sinking.”

“Were you sinking?”

May shook her head. Her voice was soft. “I never saw. I wish I could have done something.”

“Water is extremely dangerous for anyone,” whispered Isobel.

• • •

Irene carried May back to the classroom. Even though everyone still had questions, May stopped being able to sit without yawning, like Robbert did at breakfast. Robbert stayed while we got ready for bed. We lay on our cots, a little worried that it wasn’t Irene saying good night like usual, but for once Robbert wasn’t in a hurry. He sat next to our folded smocks, with the light turned off, in a quiet that at first made us think he still had questions but then was only quiet by itself.

Very softly, I began to sing. The others sang with me, soft and clear, filling the room like moonlight.

A honeybee is born to roam

To search for flowers sweet,

Across the waves of whitest foam

For just one blossom treat.

No matter where it finds itself,

A bee can find its home.

A honeybee is very brave.

It works so very hard,

From birth until its honeyed grave

The hive and Queen to guard.

No matter where it finds itself,

A bee can find its home.

Our voices faded, leaving only the breeze outside. Irene stood in the doorway.

“I heard you singing. I thought you’d be asleep.”

“We were waiting for you,” said Robbert, and suddenly it seemed like we had been, all of us waiting to be together after such a busy day. Irene sat next to Robbert, listening with us to the night.

“What will happen now?” whispered Caroline. She was across the room in the dark. I thought about what Caroline knew, and what I didn’t.

“We’ll go to sleep,” said Irene. She went to Caroline first, whispering in her ear. I wanted to hear what she said. I wanted to know if something had changed and, because inside I knew it had, whether we could change it back.

She came to me last, like always.

5.

The next morning
Caroline woke having had a dream. While Eleanor tied my smock I watched Caroline sit with her head cocked to one side, staring at nothing. Irene knelt next to her, whispering quietly. Caroline stood, still caught in her thoughts, while Irene unfolded her smock. As she dressed her, Irene spoke to the rest of us, waiting patiently for Caroline to find her own way to being awake.

“I asked everyone to think about what we can do with the sailcloth in the yard. It will be dry by now, and I was hoping we could try some of your ideas.”

She had Caroline’s ties done and took her hand. Irene pointed with her chin at the kitchen and the three of us got going on breakfast, putting water in the kettle and measuring tea for the pot. Irene and Caroline stayed in the bedroom for another few minutes. When they finally came in Caroline was focused as ever, going straight to the cupboard for the oatmeal, which was what Irene had decided to cook.

“Will May have breakfast with us?” asked Eleanor, setting the table.

“Not this morning,” said Irene. “She’s still asleep.”

Isobel asked how much May slept normally versus how much she slept now and whether that was a question of living on a boat or nearly drowning or the yellow pills. While Irene answered, I noticed Caroline looking at me. Eleanor asked Irene about May’s bandages, how many there had been before versus how many she had now and which ones would be the last to come off, or would there be some that never did, and also about the scab on the side of May’s face.

“What did you dream?” I asked, deciding to whisper. Caroline shook her head.

“Veronika?”

I turned to Irene, because I’d also been listening to them. “My idea was to make an awning for shade on the kitchen porch.”

“That’s very good,” she said. “Caroline?”

“My idea was about water.” Irene looked at her, as if she didn’t quite understand, so Caroline went on. “To stretch the canvas and catch water when it rains, to store it, to make tea.”

“That’s very good, too. It’s already a good morning, with all of you being so smart.” We always wanted to make Irene happy, and she smiled as she sat down to eat. “Caroline, why don’t you go ask Robbert if he has anything we can use to cut the sailcloth. Be careful not to disturb anyone.”

We all watched as Caroline walked out and carefully went down the steps and across the yard, though she was only partway across when Irene called us away from the door to plan the rest of the morning. We had so many ideas, and she had so many questions, that we barely noticed Caroline didn’t come back.

• • •

Eventually we took a nap—which was when we finally realized how long she’d been away—but when we woke up Caroline was there with the rest of us like always. Irene had eaten her lunch while we were sleeping, so we went straight into the yard. Irene explained our walk would be without minutes, with all of us walking together. The difference, she said, was that this time we wouldn’t be walking alone. She pointed and we saw May on the porch of Robbert’s building. The shape of her face had changed, because her hair was pulled behind her head. She had borrowed one of Irene’s clips. We never used Irene’s clips, because we needed our hair like it was, hanging down and wiped clean to catch the sun. Irene waved for May to join us.

“We’re all going to walk together,” she said, and then to May, “We can show May our island.”

Irene held out her hands to Eleanor and to Isobel. “And no pinching,” said Isobel.

“That’s right,” said Irene, with a smile, still looking at May. Caroline and I stood with May. Usually the two not holding hands with Irene just waited to hold hands with her on the walk back. But now we were with May, who just looked down at her feet. Since I had done it before, I reached to touch May’s hand. She pulled back, surprised.

“We hold hands with Irene,” said Caroline.

“O,” said May, but nothing else.

Caroline held out her hand. May looked at it, then over at Irene, who was watching everything.

“Why did she say ‘no pinching’?”

“Because we don’t pinch,” said Caroline.

“That’s right,” I said, just like Irene. I held out my hand, too. May finally took it and then took Caroline’s.

“We’re off then,” said Irene. “Isobel, where first?”

“The cliffs,” said Isobel.

“Why the cliffs? Eleanor?”

“Because we’ll see more, since the tide is out.”

“Very good.” Irene dipped her eyes once right at me, a hidden look, and then turned to lead the way.

• • •

May wasn’t as good at walking with us as Irene, so there was some stumbling, which meant that the three of us fell behind, just enough that—as May realized first—we could talk without the others hearing.

“Are you . . . okay now?”

May’s voice was still a little hoarse, scraped in her throat. She was looking at Caroline. Caroline didn’t answer, blinking, and it seemed like May wasn’t sure what to say next, or even what words to use, like she’d met a bird or a flower that didn’t have a name. She tried again.

“He . . . Robbert . . . this morning . . . he was . . . working . . . on you—”

“Robbert wanted to know about my dream,” said Caroline, just as softly as May. She looked ahead to see if Irene had heard—she hadn’t—then across to me. Caroline knew this walk was about our learning to see what May saw, another version of an island we already knew. That meant paying attention to May. But since now there were things Caroline wasn’t supposed to talk about—and maybe this morning’s dream was one of them, too—she had to decide which task was more important. The easiest thing, since I didn’t have the rules she had, was to do some deciding for her.