“Certainly,” Haddie said.
Robby kept his face still, but inside he flinched because his father immediately thought of Brandon. Boating terrified Robby—not because he thought he would drown, but because he got so sick every time they went on the water. They’d tried every remedy, from drugs to ginseng root, but nothing could stop Robby from vomiting if he even set foot on a boat smaller than the ferry.
Sarah took charge—“You guys pack some rations and plenty of water. I’ll get all the first aid stuff together. Who knows what we’ll need once we’re underway.”
ROBBY WENT DOWNSTAIRS to the laundry room after his parents gathered everything together for the trip. His only contribution was to suggest they take along a few household chemicals—bleach, baking soda, rubbing alcohol. He didn’t have anything specific in mind, but he wanted to have some basic supplies along in case of a crisis. Robby also liked that he’d been consulted, and was happy to have an answer.
He found the Norton brothers—his friend Jim, and Jim’s jerky brother Brandon—sitting on the air mattress with a flashlight between them. Brandon was playing a game on his phone, and Jim was playing with an iPod.
“Nice job letting go of Paulie Carver,” Brandon said.
“I didn’t let go,” Robby said. He realized too late he should have just let the comment roll past him.
“Remind me not to trust my life to you,” Brandon said. “Your friend is going to get us all killed,” he said to his brother.
“Shut up,” Jim said, under his breath.
Brandon hauled back and punched Jim in the shoulder. The action bounced a blanket on top of the flashlight and the room was lit only by the game screens.
“Move over,” Robby said to Jim. “We gotta get up early.” He slid past Jim to claim the edge of the air mattress closest to the dryer. He kept on all his clothes but kicked off his shoes. Brandon bunched all the pillows on his side of the mattress. Robby’s mom had also put out a few blankets for the boys, so Robby bunched one up to use as a pillow. He couldn’t sleep. He could barely keep his eyes shut. Upstairs, the adults were still talking. Robby knew there must be more to the story—stuff his dad didn’t want to say with him around. It probably regarded Mr. Dyer’s cellar.
Robby thought about the cellar. His father had insisted he not look behind him. Robby wondered what his father had been protecting him from. It must be something violent, he figured. That would be the only thing his dad would want to protect him from seeing—he wouldn’t want Robby to be disturbed by seeing some gruesome result of violence. Robby had already seen a dead person. He’d seen his own dead grandmother at her wake. So this would have to be a gory death.
Robby closed his eyes and thought of the strange symbols on the foundation wall in Mr. Dyer’s cellar. He remembered as many as he could and made sure to recall them in their exact sequence. He’d already written them down twice.
Behind Robby, Jim and Brandon fought over a pillow. They both seemed younger to Robby since the crisis started. Brandon was fourteen-almost-fifteen, and normally didn’t even bother to talk to his little brother. But that day he was acting like a ten-year-old. Robby thought back to his own behavior. He recognized moments of immaturity. Being scared of the dark and not being able to control your bladder were certainly not appropriate for a teenager. Robby took a deep breath and let it out slowly, letting his body sink into the mattress as he exhaled.
The basement was cooler than the rest of the house, but Robby still wore his pants and sweatshirt, so he was comfortable enough. He tried to forget about everything from that day. His hand moved up to his throat and held the spot where his zipper had drawn blood. He drifted off to sleep while Jim and Brandon were still fighting about their sleeping arrangements.
In the night he heard someone climbing the stairs. He looked up to see Jim going upstairs, using his iPod as a flashlight. On the far side of the mattress, Brandon snored into his own armpit.
“ROBBY, BRANDON, WAKE UP,” Robby said’s dad. He was holding the lantern above the mattress. Sam stomped on the edge to shake them awake. “Get up.”
Robby pushed himself up and then climbed to his feet. Brandon moved slower, blinking hard against the lantern light.
“What time did Jim leave?” Sam asked.
“I don’t know,” Robby said. “Where is he?”
“Did he say anything? Did you see him?” Sam asked.
Brandon didn’t respond. He slid to the end of the mattress and started pulling on his shoes.
“Dad, what’s going on?” Robby asked.
“We don’t know where Mrs. Norton and Jim are,” Sam said. “The door to the garage is open.”
“I don’t know what time,” Robby said. “I don’t have a clock or anything down here. Did you notice?” he asked Brandon.
“I didn’t even know he left,” Brandon said. He got up and headed for the stairs. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” he yelled back to Robby as he started up.
“I didn’t…” Robby started. “I just thought he was going to use the bathroom or something. I didn’t think anything of it.”
“It’s okay,” Sam said. “Get your shoes on, we’ve got to figure out what we’re doing.”
“How long have they been gone?” Robby asked.
“We don’t know,” Sam said.
“Mom’s still here, right?” Robby asked.
“Yeah, she’s upstairs.”
Robby grabbed his shoes and ran for the stairs without putting them on. When Robby got to the kitchen he found his mother trying to calm Brandon down. The two were lit only by a set of candles set on the microwave.
Brandon yelled into Sarah’s face, “Where is she? Where did she go?”
Sam came into the room holding two jackets. He stepped between Brandon and his wife and shoved one of the jackets at the boy. “Put this on,” Sam said. “You and me are gonna do some scouting.”
“Sam?” Sarah asked.
“We’ll stay right near the house,” he said, “and we’ll have this.” Sam held up a length of rope. He knelt down and fed it through Brandon’s belt loops and then tied a sturdy knot. He repeated the process, tying himself to the other end of the rope.
“We’ll finish getting the Jeep ready,” Sarah said. She moved back towards the sink, and leaned back against it, folding her arms.
Sam took a couple of steps and closed the distance to his wife. He nearly pulled Brandon off his feet when the rope pulled him by the waist. Sam kissed Sarah on the cheek and said, “We’ll be right back.”
“You better,” Sarah said. She smiled.
Sam led Brandon out through the back door, leaving Sarah and Robby in the kitchen.
“What time is it?” Robby asked.
“About five,” his mom said.
“Can I get something to eat?” Robby asked.
“Oh, yeah, of course,” she said. “I made you a turkey sandwich.”
“For breakfast?” Robby asked.
“It won’t kill you,” Sarah said. “Jeez, you think I’d just offered you rat poison or something.”
Robby smiled. He sat down at his place at the table and his mom got his sandwich out of the refrigerator. He took a big bite. “So we’re going on Mr. Deemer’s boat?” he asked through a mouthful of food.
“Well, depends on…” Sarah started.
“On whether we find the hands at the school? We’re going to check the school first, right?” Robby asked. He was referring to the deckhands for the ferry. The ferry usually ran with a captain, mate, and three hands.