DAY 24, LATE MORNING
I looked down in disgust.
What should’ve been soap looked like curdled milk. Not exactly what anyone would want to rub all over their body, especially me.
“Nice try,” Macy said encouragingly. “Just takes practice.”
“I don’t know,” I said, watching Macy unwrap her bark mold to reveal a perfect square. “I’m not sure soap’s my thing.”
I didn’t know what my thing was, but I was determined to figure it out, and soon. I was working on something—something unique—but at this point, it was still rough.
As I rinsed my hands, I thought about Jillian stripping paper trees and Heesham beating the pulp to make cloth. I thought about Macy’s perfect soap molds and Julio’s mouthwatering bread. I thought about the teams collecting firewood, harvesting yams, picking redfruit, or wrapping fish. I thought about Li making delicate leis of flowers that began dying as soon as they were picked, but most of all, I thought about Thad.
We’d barely spoken since the day Rory died. Thad was everywhere, and yet, missing. Behind the scenes, in plain sight, Thad hadbeen working almost feverishly—discussing island medicine, repairing gliders, plotting Search team makeups and patterns, and organizing food: plantings, harvests, fishing, and who knew what else. Talking to everyone and anyone. He was both present and distant, even with me.
Especially with me.
Or maybe it was just that I always noticed where he was. Sometimes I felt his eyes on me, even when he was with someone else, but before we could talk, he’d vanish. Once I’d caught him openly staring, looking like he was about to say something—and yet he hadn’t. Twice I’d woken early and seen him sprinting alone on the beach, pushing himself like he was training for the Olympics. I didn’t join him.
I ran by myself.
And explored by myself.
And worked on my secret project by myself.
Good times, I thought miserably.
At that moment, I realized I was lousy company. My mom would be horrified at my lack of Southern graciousness.
“So, how long do Search teams stay out?” I winced at my puny effort.
“Usually a week,” Macy said. “Sometimes less, sometimes more. Natalie’s should be back any day. Same for Li’s.”
I nodded.
“Hey.” Macy grinned. “Cheer up, girl. It gets better.”
“Thanks.” I returned her smile, not sure exactly what was going to get better, or how. “What do you miss the most? About home?”
“You mean besides a decent razor and a DQ dip cone?” Macy laughed.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.” She smiled, a real smile, unlike my forced one. “I missmy family, and I miss my church. I miss all kinds of little stuff. But right now I’m missing football season. I’m a majorette, and football season is the best part of the year. And I’m missing it.” Macy squeezed my hand. “You’ll make it, Charley. You still look like you need to eat, but you’ll make it.” She chuckled. “I believe everything happens for a reason. I believe I’m supposed to be here, and I believe I’ll get back home. Same for you. Same for all of us.”
I decided against bringing up Rory. He wasn’t going anywhere.
“Thanks,” I said. “For the lesson, and the pep talk.”
“Anytime.” Macy smiled. Serenity surrounded her like a bubble. As we carried our sandsoap back to the Shack, the walk was peaceful, like I’d finally taken a deep breath, long overdue.
After leaving Macy, I ran into Jillian and Talla. One look from Talla and my Macy-bubble burst on sight.
“We’re going running,” Talla offered. “Want to come?”
“Thanks, but I already went.”
“So go again,” she said. “We’ll take it easy on you.”
