Marcus was at the front of the boat with the radio. He had it coming in a little more clearly now, and Shy was able to make out many of the words. The reporter was talking about a makeshift border that had been erected in America. The earthquakes had caused the disease to spread so rapidly among the western states, people were no longer allowed to travel east, in hopes of keeping the disease contained. The coasts of California and Oregon and Washington were essentially giant quarantine areas for now, until scientists could develop a vaccine and replenish the medication used to treat the disease, which they’d already exhausted. A number of pharmaceutical companies were working day and night, trying to develop a vaccine, but so far none of them had had any luck.
Shy clutched the duffel bag in his lap. He understood they’d have to get it to the right people as soon as possible. Thousands of lives probably depended on it.
He remembered the last time he was on the sea in a boat, gripping the duffel bag. He’d been with Addie. He thought about how they’d spent nights close to each other for warmth, and how they sometimes talked. He could still see her splitting that fish in half with her bare hands. Could still hear her whispering in his ear that last night.
Where was she now?
Did he even care?
He was convinced that when he last saw her, she already knew she was going to leave the island in the helicopter with her old man. It was the look in her eyes when they talked after the lunch meeting. And the things she had said. And that kiss on the cheek. She was telling him goodbye.
But the more Shy thought about it, the more he decided Addie hadn’t known anything when they were stranded together on the lifeboat. Back then she was just as confused as he was. He trusted what he’d seen in her eyes. Which meant her dad must have gotten to her on the island at some point.
Anyway, it didn’t matter anymore. He was with Carmen now. She was sitting against the side of the boat right beside him, staring out at the wreckage from the ship, which floated all along the surface of the ocean. And they were holding hands—though he still wasn’t sure who’d initiated that part.
Shy closed his eyes and breathed, feeling her hand in his. He understood it was a miracle they were even alive, but he wanted their families back home to be alive, too. He wanted everything to go back to the way it was.
In a few minutes Shoeshine muttered from atop the forward hatch: “Believe I finally got it.” And he slowly began raising his homemade sail until it was all the way up and secured. The wind immediately caught it and started the boat moving through the ocean at a decent speed, farther away from the island. Shoeshine hopped down from the hatch and hurried around to the tiller, where he began steering, occasionally looking down at a homemade-looking compass.
They all watched him and asked what they could do to help, but Shoeshine insisted that they just rest for now.
The tattered boat moved swiftly through the ocean as the sun crept into the perfect blue sky. Shy listened to more bits and pieces of the reporter on Marcus’s radio, and he felt Carmen’s heartbeat in her hand, and he stared at the devastated island, which was completely scorched and still smoldering in places. He wondered what they’d find when they returned home, and who would be there to greet them. And then he decided to stop thinking about things he couldn’t control. For now he should focus on how fortunate he was to be on this sailboat, with Shoeshine and Marcus and Carmen. He fingered the good-luck ring in his pocket and looked at each of their faces, feeling incredibly close to them. Marcus tinkering with the antennae. Shoeshine opening up his leather journal. Carmen staring at the sea and breathing steadily, clutching his hand. He had no idea how long it would take for a boat this size to sail all the way back to California, but he was convinced they’d make it there eventually. They had to.
Shy turned back to the massive ocean, which spoke to him more clearly now, trying to process everything that had happened over the past eight days. But it was impossible. All he could do was watch the island get smaller and smaller on the horizon, until it was just a tiny dot on the water, and then it was gone.
Acknowledgments
I’d like to thank the following folks for helping make this novel possible. Krista Marino: Your guidance through this story was truly remarkable. Thanks so much for all your hard work. Shy and I owe you a fancy dinner at the New York restaurant of your choice. Steve Malk: Thanks for always taking the long view and for coaching me through far more than just career decisions. Working with you is one of the best moves I’ve ever made. Matt Van Buren: Thanks for reading all fifty-eight thousand drafts of this novel. Your notes and conversations (often in a Park Slope bar) were vital to my figuring things out. Thanks also to all the great folks at Random House who work so hard to get good books into the hands of readers, especially Beverly Horowitz, Dominique Cimina, Lauren Donovan, Lisa Nadel, Adrienne Waintraub, Tracy Bloom Lerner and Lisa McClatchy. Thanks to my medical expert peeps (and friends): Quan Luong and Tanya DiFrancesco. Thanks to my supportive family: Caroline, Al, Roni, Amy, Emily, Spence, the Suns and Annie the cat.
Last but not least, I’d like to thank all the supportive friends who agreed to accompany me on the cruise I took to research this book. Oh, wait, none of you would go with me. Even when I begged and offered to pay. Even after I posted several desperate pleas on Facebook: “Come on, someone come with me on this cruise. I can’t board a ship for a full week by myself.” No responses. Zero. Oh, and the cruise I randomly picked turned out to be a “family” voyage, too. So all the moms and dads kept shooting me dirty looks and shielding their kids from me. I could read their minds: Who’s this random guy creeping around the Lido Deck by himself sipping piña coladas? So, yeah, thanks for the company, guys. Way to come through for your boy.
About the Author
The Living is Matt de la Peña’s fifth novel. He attended the University of the Pacific on a basketball scholarship and went on to earn a Master of Fine Arts in creative writing at San Diego State University. He lives in Brooklyn, New York, where he teaches creative writing. Look for Matt de la Peña’s other books, Ball Don’t Lie, Mexican WhiteBoy, We Were Here, and I Will Save You, all available from Delacorte Press.
Also by Matt de la Peña
Ball Don’t Lie
Mexican WhiteBoy
We Were Here
I Will Save You
Copyright
This is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2013 by Matt de la Peña
Jacket art copyright © 2013 by Philip Straub
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Delacorte Press, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.