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Shy kept looking over his shoulder as he moved through the ship. He was sure he’d spot the suit guy following him at some point, but there was never anyone there.

He ducked his head into a few of the clubs. House music or hip-hop still blaring, but the dance floors all deserted. He found Kevin in Blue Water Disco pouring drinks for two women sitting at the bar. Kevin looked up and they waved to each other; then Shy continued toward the front of the ship.

It was eerie seeing all the hot spots empty this early in the night. Usually passengers were everywhere, drinking and gambling and eating, dancing in the clubs, soaking in the Lido Deck Jacuzzi. But tonight even the main promenade was quiet. Everyone apparently waiting out the storm in the comfort of their own cabins.

Eventually Shy made his way to the Karaoke Room, where Carmen, still wearing her fancy dress and heels, was standing on the stage, watching a news report on TV.

She was the only person in the room.

“What, nobody showed up?” Shy called to her from the door.

Carmen shut off the TV and spun around. “Hey,” she said. Even though she was smiling she seemed upset—because of the storm, he assumed.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Of course I’m okay.” She kneeled down, started packing up her things. Over her shoulder she told him: “A few people wandered in earlier, looked around, then wandered back out.”

Shy leaned against the wall for balance. “What were you just watching?”

Carmen ignored his question.

She stood up, locked her equipment in a trunk on the right side of the stage, picked up her bag and moved cautiously down the stage stairs, toward Shy. “This storm’s tossing us all over the place. Doesn’t exactly make people feel like singing.”

“Doesn’t make ’em feel like doing anything,” Shy said. “You seen it out there? There’s nobody.”

The ship jerked violently as if on cue, and Carmen grabbed Shy’s arm to keep her balance. “I’m not gonna lie,” she said, “it’s messing with me a little, too. And I never get seasick.”

“Try this,” Shy told her, pulling off his wristband. “That guy Shoeshine made it.”

Carmen stared at it, frowning. “Shoeshine? Nah, I think I’m good.”

He smiled. “It really works, I promise. You just line the button up with the inside of your wrist.”

She looked at Shy, her glassy eyes creating a tiny ache in his chest. She’d definitely been crying.

“Fine,” she said, taking the wristband and slipping it on. “But if I get scabies or some shit…”

Shy watched her position the button.

She looked at him again, but all squinty-eyed this time, like she was trying to figure something out. “What’s going on with you, Shy?”

He shook his head. “Just this storm, man.”

“Nah, it’s more than that,” she said. “I maybe haven’t known you that long, but I can tell when something’s up.”

Shy shook his head. But the fact that she could read his mind made the chest ache grow heavier. It felt like things were normal between them again, like before they messed around.

“Spill it,” Carmen said.

Shy could feel everything bubbling up inside him, like a shook-up soda. He knew the second he opened his mouth it would all come spewing out. He stared at her heels for a few seconds, concentrating on the movement of the floorboards and trying to think how to put it. He looked back at Carmen, said: “Me and my mom finally did that Skype call. The one I told you about.”

Her face grew serious. “And?”

He shook his head.

“Shy? Is she okay?”

Seeing Carmen look so worried about him made Shy feel overwhelmed with emotion, to the point that he couldn’t speak.

“Oh my God,” Carmen said. “She’s sick, isn’t she?”

He shook his head. “My nephew.”

Carmen dropped her bag and covered her mouth. “What’s happening, Shy? For real.”

“I don’t even know.” Shy’s throat felt so tight his words came out flimsy.

“When you came in I was watching an international news channel,” she said. “The guy said this Romero shit has spread all the way up to Oakland now. They even did a profile on some Beverly Hills CEO’s wife who got sick.”

So this was why she was upset. It was more than just the storm.

“But here’s what pisses me off,” Carmen said. “Why isn’t it international news when it hits where we live? Why isn’t there a profile about my dad? Or your grandma?”

Shy shook his head. “They got Miguel on that new medicine, at least. But I swear, Carm. It’s messing with my head.”

They were both quiet for a few seconds, looking at different parts of the floor. Then Carmen picked up her bag and grabbed Shy by his forearm. “Come on,” she said. “We’re going to my room.”

Shy looked at her, surprised. “Your room?”

She nodded. “You heard me. This is an emergency.”

They left the Karaoke Room together, Carmen walking slowly and cautiously in her heels, Shy trying not to overthink where they were going, or what it meant.

17

A Sliver of Carmen

Carmen bought them each a slice of pizza at the crew cafeteria; then she led him back to her cabin, where she cued up more Brazilian music on her laptop and kicked off her heels. “First off,” she said, “you remember how I made up rules for us, right?”

He did.

She pulled out the desk chair and pointed for Shy to sit. “Well, the second one is this: no more of your cheesy hand-holding tests.” She sat on the side of her cot, as far away from Shy’s chair as possible. “Especially in my room. The only reason you’re in here right now is so we can talk about your nephew. Got it?”

“Got it,” Shy said, taking a bite of his slice. He felt guilty, though, like she might think he was using Miguel’s condition to get close to her. But that’s not how it was.

He pointed at her laptop, said: “Mind if I check my email real quick?”

“Go ’head.”

Shy logged on. His in-box was still empty, though, so he logged right back off.

“Nothing?” Carmen said.

Shy shook his head and sat back in the chair, picked up what was left of his slice. As they ate, Shy noticed that the ship was a little calmer now. “You think we’re past the bad part of the storm?”

Carmen shrugged. “It’s definitely not thrashing around as much.” She wadded up her paper plate, adding: “You were right about this wristband, by the way. I can’t believe I was able to eat something.”

“Maybe Shoeshine’s a genius,” Shy said.

Carmen laughed a little. “I don’t know about that. But he’s definitely mysterious. One time I saw him shooting a damn bow and arrow off the back of the ship. Middle of the night.”

Shy decided “mysterious” was the right word. “I saw a bunch of books in his bag earlier. I think one of them had to do with science or something. Where’s he even from, anyway?”

Carmen shrugged. “Vlad from security said he spent half his life in prison for a crime he didn’t commit. This girl Jessica who works in the spa said he was never in jail, he worked on a cattle ranch. Someone else told me he used to be homeless.” Carmen shook her head. “Who knows, right? You can’t trust none of these fools.”

She got up and lowered the music some. “Anyways, I want you to back up and tell me everything about your nephew.”

Shy threw away his plate, too, and sat back down.

He told her how his mom and sis had taken Miguel in as soon as the whites of his eyes turned pink, and how the doctors diagnosed him with Romero Disease on the spot and got him on meds. He told her how expensive everything was going to be because his sister didn’t have insurance, how he told his mom to cash the bond he won at a halftime shooting contest and how there was a selfish part of him that was actually stressed about losing the money, and he hated that part of himself.