Authors: R. L. Stine
“Macaw?” Her voice trembling and tiny. “No. Oh no. Macaw?”
She stared at the pale hand, on its back, like a dead bird.
Macaw was trapped beneath a slab of wall board. Lea’s stomach lurched again. She could feel the cold fear prickling her skin. She didn’t think. She grabbed the top corner of the slab—and pulled. Hoisted it up.
It slid more easily than she had imagined. She almost toppled over backward.
She raised the wall board. Gazed down. Down at Macaw’s lifeless face. At the puncture . . . the puncture . . . the blood-smeared puncture in her eye.
Lea gasped. She opened her mouth to scream, but couldn’t make a sound.
The nail at the corner of the board—the rusted eight-inch nail, fatter than a pencil . . . Lea stared at the nail, then down to the blood-caked puncture in the dead woman’s eye socket.
And she knew. She knew that when the wall fell in, the nail had been driven into Macaw’s eye . . . eight inches . . . driven through her eye and into her brain.
L
ea felt a sharp stab of pain in her right eye. She uttered a cry and pressed a hand over both eyes. Sympathy pain. It happened every time Ira or Elena hurt themselves.
The wall board fell from her hand and smacked the tumble of boards at her feet. The pile rumbled and slid beneath her. Eyes still covered, she struggled to keep her balance. Waited for the pain to fade.
A dog howled. She heard shrill, alarmed voices behind her.
“Mes enfants? Avez-vous vu mes enfants?”
“Do you live in the village?”
“The village is no more.”
Dazed, Lea wandered away from the voices. No way to escape. She could go only as far as the beach. And even there, the moans and howls of stricken people mingled with the crash of the waves. The beach was littered with death, a long line of dead starfish.
As if the stars of heaven had fallen to the sand.
And then the red raindrops came down, soft at first, then in curtains like a waterfall of blood. The blood of the hurricane victims raining down, although there were no clouds in the sky.
And the twin angels emerged from the red rain. Two identical blond boys, so frail and thin, with glowing blue eyes, sad eyes.
They walked over the rain-spattered sand toward Lea, seemingly oblivious of the red drops falling around them.
“Can I help you?” she called.
They’re so beautiful. So beautiful and sad.
They didn’t answer. They stopped and lowered their heads. They stood there perfectly still, blond hair gleaming so brightly as if the rain hadn’t touched it. Their thin bodies appeared to tremble.
She took a step toward them, sandals sinking in the sand. “Are you cold? The rain. Where are your shirts?”
“It’s all gone, mum,” one of them said. He raised his blue eyes to her.
“Gone?”
The rain pattered more gently. The red curtains dissolved into raindrops. The world brightened to a yellow-gray glare. She wiped rain off her forehead.
“Our house is gone, mum,” the boy said. He had a high-pitched voice, more like a five-year-old.
They have to be ten or twelve,
Lea thought.
“Where do you live?”
He shrugged his slender shoulders. “Nowhere now.”
His twin let out a sigh. He kicked a wet clump of sand with a bare foot.
“You mean—?”
“It’s all gone, mum. All of it.”
Lea was staring at them so intently, she hadn’t realized the rain had stopped. She swept her hands back, squeezing red water from her hair. Behind her, she could hear excited voices. Alarmed voices. People shouting about the blood rain.
“What’s your name?”
“Daniel, mum. This is my bruvver Samuel.”
Samuel nodded but didn’t speak.
Lea wanted to hug them. Wrap them both in her arms. Tell them everything would be okay.
My heart is breaking for them. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this strange emotion.
“Can I help you? I mean, are you lost? Can I take you to your house?”
Daniel shook his head. “We don’t have a house anymore,” he said in an even tinier voice.
His brother sighed again. His blue eyes were watery, but his face revealed no emotion at all.
Is he in shock?
she wondered.
“Where are your parents?”
“Gone, mum.”
“Gone? Do you mean—?”
“Dead, mum. In the storm, don’t you know. We lost them.”
“Oh my God.”
We lost them. What a grown-up way to say it. Not childlike at all.
What could she say? Trembling in their baggy little shorts, they looked so small and frail and frightened. Again, she felt the powerful urge to wrap her arms around them and hug them. Protect them from this whole nightmare.
But of course that was impossible. She couldn’t protect
herself
from the nightmare. Once again she saw Macaw’s dead face with the nail puncture through her splattered eyeball.
“Is there someone else in your family? Aunts and uncles? Your grandparents?”
They shook their heads.
“No one,” Daniel said. His twin still hadn’t spoken. “It’s just us now, mum.”
Lea spun around. Where were James and Martha? She couldn’t see them from the beach.
Waves crashed against the shore. An upside-down canoe was carried onto the sand and tumbled to a stop against a steep sand hill. Seagulls soared low, chattering loudly.
“I’ll take you to your house. You can get some clothes,” Lea said.
“It was washed away,” Daniel said, lowering his eyes. “All of it. Everything. Washed away. Samuel and I, we watched it go.”
Samuel nodded.
“And you have no one? You’re all alone?” Lea realized she was repeating herself. She didn’t want to believe it.
“Just our friend.” Samuel spoke up for the first time. He had a high, little boy’s voice like Daniel.
“Friend?”
Daniel stepped in front of his twin. “He means me, mum. I’m his only friend.” He gave Samuel a scowl. “His brain right now is kind of like shepherd’s pie. You know. Everything all mixed together like.”
Lea waited for Samuel to reply. But he lowered his eyes again and remained silent.
These two beautiful boys—what will happen to them now?
Ira and Elena flashed into her mind. She pictured them getting ready for school. The gulped-down breakfast. The yawns and groans and protests. The lost homework. The wrestling with Axl, Roz’s funny child. Axl liked to jump on their backs and ride them around the room, especially when they were in a hurry and had no time for him.
Was Roz worried about Lea? Thinking about her right now?
Mark should be home from his book tour by now. Would he drive the kids to school or leave it to Roz? Or did he keep them home to watch the hurricane news on TV? Were they suffering? Not knowing if she’d survived . . .
Were they trying to reach her online? Her laptop was buried somewhere in the wreckage of the rooming house. Wreckage.
“Can you help us, mum?”
Daniel’s tiny voice broke into her thoughts. He stepped forward and took her hand. His hand felt soft and cold in hers. He gazed up at her with pleading, wide eyes.
They’re so adorable. Angels. Really.
“Can you help my brother and me?”
Lea squeezed his tiny cat’s paw of a hand. And she felt something.
She didn’t know what it was at first. She was trying hard not to think about what had happened here and what she saw all around her. But holding the boy’s soft hand, she felt a strong connection.
It was so sad. So sad and overwhelming. She didn’t want to
think at all. She wanted to push it all away. Yesterday. Today. This dreadful morning. Push it away forever.
But she felt a powerful attraction to this boy and his nearly silent brother. Something warm and soft and real. Two creatures who really needed her. And this crazy feeling that
she
needed
them
.
“Yes. Yes, I think I can help you.”
L
ater, Martha warned her that she was being too hasty. “You don’t know anything about these boys. You are acting on pure emotion. You need to wait till you can think about it clearly. Do some research. Try to find out something about them.”
“They’re so sad and alone, Martha. They break my heart. Really.”
“All the more reason to take it slow,” Martha insisted. “I know you said you feel a connection, but—”
“Not just a connection. I can’t describe it. It’s something like love, I guess. I mean, love at first sight. No. That’s crazy. But I just feel. I don’t know what I feel. I just feel I could be a good mother to them and—”
“Look how mixed up you are, Lea. At least let me do some research. That’s what I do, you know. Let me see what I can find out before you take them home with you.”
But Lea, not persuaded, couldn’t wait to talk to Mark.
“Mark, it’s what we wanted.”
“You’re breaking up, Lea. Are you on your cell?”
“No. The national guard set up some special lines. I had to wait in line an hour. No one has phones or internet or anything.”
“I read online they’re working on it. They’ve got the coast guard and the national guard and—”
“I only have a few minutes, darling. We don’t have time to discuss the news. These two boys—”
“You can’t just snatch them away from their home. I don’t understand—”
“I’m not snatching them. They don’t have a home. They lost everything here. Their family. Everything. They’re adorable, Mark. They will fit in fine in Sag Harbor. They—”
“I know you want a big family. You always said it. And we talked about adopting. But this is different, Lea. This is too weird. I mean, to come home with two strange boys. I don’t like it. I really don’t.”
“They’re not strange. They’re frightened and confused. But they’re so sweet, Mark. They—”
“There are laws, Lea. The authorities there in Le Chat Noir—”
“What authorities? There aren’t any. The island governor was killed in the hurricane. They found his body a few hours ago. There’s no government here. There’s no police. No offices. Nothing left.”
“Lea, I’m sorry, but I really think this is insane. I think—”
“Mark, I’m taking them to safety. You can’t imagine what it’s like here. It’s Hell. It’s really Hell. I’ve got to make sure these boys are safe. We can search for relatives after I bring them home. But I feel something for them, Mark. It was this instant thing. I can’t leave them here to die.”
“I suppose we could talk to people here. Immigration people? What country are they from?”
“Country? They’re from here. This island. They’re American. We don’t need immigration people.”
“I don’t want to do this, Lea. You’re upset. You’ve had a terrible scare. You’re not thinking clearly. You sound to me like you might be in a little bit of shock.”
“Stop it, Mark. I’m not in shock. These two boys need us. They—”
“But we don’t know anything about them.”
“Mark, what do you want to know? They’re adorable little twelve-year-old twins. Blond and blue-eyed. I’m not bringing home
two-headed aliens from another planet. What are you afraid of? Think they have some kind of flesh-eating island disease? They lost their family. They’re orphans. Someone has to adopt them. So—”
“It’s going to be a hell of a shock for Ira and Elena. And Roz. And—”
“They all know we want a big family.”
“But it’s so sudden, Lea.”
“So you’re agreeing? I can bring them home?”
“No. I’m really opposed here. Bringing two island boys to Sag Harbor and expecting them to fit in with our family? No, Lea. Really. Think about it. Wait till your mind is clearer. You know. Calmer. Sleep on it.”
“Sleep on it? You’re joking. Don’t you want me to come home? I have to get off the island. Today is the last day for the rescue boats. Tomorrow will be too late.”
“But Lea—”
“Listen, honey, it could be your next book. Really. Two orphaned boys from a tiny island are taken to live with a middle-class family in Sag Harbor. Think of the possibilities, Mark. A study by you of how the boys adapt. What challenges them and what changes them and how they fit in with a family of strangers—and how they change the family. It could be a terrific follow-up book. And don’t tell me you already have an idea, because I know you don’t.”
Silence.
“Well? You know it’s a good idea, don’t you, Mark? Think of the wonderful anecdotes—”
“Anecdotes? It’s our
life,
Lea. It’s not anecdotes. What if these boys—”
“They’re sweet and sad, Mark. It’s so tragic. They saw their parents carried away by the floodwaters. They lost everything. But they’re adorable. I’m not exaggerating. When you see them, you’ll fall in love with them, too. They’re going to change our lives. You’ll see.”
———
“Daniel, you have to tell the woman about Ikey.” Samuel stood at the open doorway of the fisherman’s shack, white boards planked together to form a one-room shelter with a flat roof low overhead.
“She’s not a woman. She’s our new mum.” Daniel lay on his back on the flat cot against the wall, hands behind his head.
“Ikey is fishing on the dock,” Samuel said, pointing toward the water. “I can see him from here. You have to tell Mum—”
Daniel shook his head. He had a strange, smug smile on his face. As if the conversation was funny. “Ikey can’t come. Mum won’t take three of us. She only wants two.”
“You don’t know that. Did you ask her?” Samuel’s voice rose with emotion. He wanted to wipe the smile off his brother’s face. He stepped into the shack, ducking his head under the thick web of fishing nets hanging from the already low ceiling. “Did you ask her?”
Daniel pulled a segment of rope net down to him and twirled it around his hand. “Ikey isn’t pretty like us. Mum doesn’t want him.”
“But she has to know—”
“No, she doesn’t!” Daniel sat up quickly, blue eyes flaring angrily. A snort escaped his throat. Like an animal show of anger.
Samuel took a step back. He knew his brother’s temper well. It taught him caution at an early age. Arguing with Daniel was such a waste of time. But he had to try. Someone had to look out for their little friend. Samuel had protected Ikey before. From others.