The Last Boy and Girl in the World (37 page)

“Why do you say that? He's got to be proud of you.”

“I know he's proud. But he's also, like, pushing me out the door. It was his idea that I do this precollege summer class. I told him it doesn't matter, it's not like I'm getting credit for it or anything. I'd rather stay here and help out. But he won't listen. He actually told me this morning, ‘You want this to hurt as little as possible? Then you need to rip the Band-Aid off as fast as you can.' ”

“Yeesh.”

“I know.”

And then, I think because neither of us knew what to say next, we turned our attention to the clipboard, checked the address on his paper against the one we were standing in front of. The sheet was full of addresses, people who were gone.

This particular house was more like a cottage. It was small and plain and utilitarian, closer to a garage than a home. It looked to have had a nice flower garden, at least before the flood. Now it was as if a tractor had plowed straight through the beds, tearing out the flowers, snapping wooden garden stakes in half, crushing the ceramic lawn ornaments.

A fallen elm had taken down half the front porch. Someone had put a chain saw to the limbs blocking the door. The front window was nailed over with plywood. Levi pushed the front door open wide. The living room stayed dark, because of the plywood, so we used flashlights.

The rooms were still full of everything, but nothing was where it belonged. Things had floated and bobbed to new places. We stepped through carefully. The brown carpet was still soggy like moss. Mud slicked the walls.

This was the first and only time I was afraid to be in one of these houses.

I leaned past Levi and glanced into the kitchen. There were stacks of canned goods on the table and a pile of dirty dishes in the sink. “Jeez,” I said. “Did this guy take anything with him?”

“Hello?” Levi called out.

No one answered.

So we shrugged at each other and then got to work. Jesse flicked light switches while I turned the stove knobs in the kitchen and listened for a hiss.

“I think the gas is off,” I called out.

“Okay. I'll check the lights in the back bedroom.” He pointed at a room off the kitchen, where a bed was covered in blankets.

We were both looking when a body sat up.

I screamed and Levi instinctively put himself ahead of me.

“One minute,” a man's voice grumbled.

Levi turned to me, eyes wide. “Go outside. I'm going to call my dad,” he whispered.

Before I could, the man spoke again.

“I wasn't expecting guests.” There was a phlegmy cough, the kind only an old person could achieve. “Let me get on some pants.”

I laughed but Levi hushed me and said, “Thanks, sir! We'd appreciate that.”

Fifteen minutes later, we cleared up the misunderstanding. Russell Dixon had not evacuated. There was apparently some confusion, as the adjusters had come to visit him a few days ago. They had made him an offer and then condemned his house, leaving him no real choice in the matter. But Mr. Dixon wasn't aware of that. He simply thanked the men for their time, but only so they'd get the hell off his property.

Mr. Dixon was one of the people who'd come to our house that first morning after the flood. And his was one of the names on my dad's petition.

When we explained the mistake, he looked so sad. “I feel like this is my fault. I was trying to be polite to these guys.”

“It's not.”

He sat across from us at his kitchen table, with his salt-white hair and a scruffy beard that helped fill out his hollow face. He had on a stained button-up shirt and pants that were too big for him. To me, he said, “Your daddy's been by here a few times, fixing stuff for me. He checks in on me, brings me groceries, and makes sure I'm okay. I'd been meaning to tell him they shut my power off, but I know he's real busy with other folks. I didn't want to bother him.” He sighed. “I'd offer to make you kids some tea or something, but I don't have no water, neither. I'm on the well but the pump's electric.”

Levi pulled me aside. “Mr. Dixon can't stay here. Especially not with this new storm coming. I just texted my dad.”

I felt my lip curl. “Levi! Why'd you do that without talking to me first!”

Levi opened his mouth to defend himself. But thankfully he thought better of it.

I stepped outside and called Dad.

“Yeah, Kee. What's up?”

“Dad, I'm at Russell Dixon's place.”

“Oh, no. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I mean, no. They've condemned his house. He didn't even know. And now I think the police are coming over to take him away.”

“Damn.”

“Dad, he can't stay here. And not just because of that. His house is like . . . falling down. He doesn't have water, electricity . . .” I welled up, because it was just so sad. I wanted to ask him,
Did you know? Did you know things were this bad?

Dad let out a sigh. “I'm on my way.”

When I went back into the kitchen, Levi was sweeping the floor. I knew why. He didn't want to have a conversation with Mr. Dixon.

Mr. Dixon looked at me and said, “Please tell this boy to put that broom down. A little dirt ain't going to kill me and sweeping it up ain't going to save me, neither.” He wasn't mad. He was smiling.

“He just wants to help.” I said it even though, suddenly, none of what we were doing felt that way, no matter how Levi tried to spin it.

Mr. Dixon lifted a shaky hand and smoothed his hair. “Do you think they're going to make me go right now?”

Levi glanced at me. I pressed my lips together. I sure as hell wasn't going to break the news to Mr. Dixon. Quietly, Levi said, “Probably.”

“Did you want us to help you pack anything up? We can put some clothes in a bag for you.”

Mr. Dixon glanced around his house. It was almost too overwhelming. All of his possessions, everywhere.

“Well.” He rubbed his chin. “I'd like to take some of these paintings, if I can.” He pointed around. Some were hanging up on the walls, but others were piled on the floor. There were maybe forty paintings. And those were the ones I saw. Who knew how many were in other rooms. “My wife . . . she took up painting after she retired from the mill. And these remind me of the things we did together. She was good, wasn't she?” He got up. “I guess I can't take them all. I don't even know where I'm going.” He looked up at me. I couldn't tell if his eyes were watery, or just wet in that old man way. “Maybe you two could help me decide?”

•  •  •

I was so angry when we finally got outside. “They were going to condemn this house with him in it! Is this really the side you're on? Pushing people out of their homes like this?”

“Pushing him out? Keeley, this home isn't safe for a dog, never mind a person. How could your dad let him live like this in good conscience?”

“My dad is taking care of a lot of people, okay? And it wouldn't have to be all up to him if the governor wasn't such an asshole.”

“Well, I hope your dad is doing a better job with the others than he is with Mr. Dixon.”

I glared at him. How could he say that?

Our dads pulled up at exactly the same time.

My dad and Sheriff Hamrick were bumper to bumper.

“This isn't right,” Dad started in.

“Now, hold on a second, Jim.”

“Where are you going to take him?” Dad was shouting.

“Tonight? To a shelter. And then tomorrow he can talk with the adjusters again, maybe with someone to help him understand what's going on.”

“You're damn right he will. I'll be with him this time.” Dad scoffed. “All this for a stupid housing deal in the city. You know it. I know it.”

Sheriff Hamrick put his hands behind his back. “I'm not going to say you're wrong, Jim. These plans have been in the works for a long time. And they won't let you stand in the way.” He tried to take a step forward. “Take care of your family. Do the right thing, before it's too late. Check the weather. You don't have much time.”

Dad gripped the head of his cane so hard, his knuckles turned white. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“Your daughter is helping people. What are you doing? Who are you looking out for?”

Dad turned as dark as a storm cloud. And I did too. I wouldn't say my dad was a hero. Far from it. But he was trying to do the right thing.

I jumped in to defend him. Sheriff Hamrick might have had Levi under his thumb, but not me. “This job isn't about helping people. It's about pushing them out. And you know what, I never wanted it in the first place. I quit.”

Levi's face fell, but I needed my dad to know I was behind him 100 percent.

If Dad was at all intimidated by Sheriff Hamrick, he didn't show it. He walked straight into Russell Dixon's house. I followed him, of course. I'd like to think that maybe Levi would have come with us, if not for his dad. But he didn't. Sheriff Hamrick put Levi's bike in the trunk of his squad car, and the two of them drove away.

Saturday, May 28

EMERGENCY BROADCAST SYSTEM ALERT
: A Flash Flood Watch has been issued for Aberdeen County and Waterford City for the next 24 hours as we continue to track a developing storm. Rain is expected to begin this evening. Saturated areas will be particularly susceptible to heavy runoff and debris flows. Residents are being asked to monitor later forecasts and be prepared to take action should an upgrade to a Flash Flood Warning be deemed necessary.

I doubt anyone would have guessed I was heading to prom. I was disguised as a Normal Girl Attending a Sleepover Party—navy sweatshirt over a black-and-white-striped tank top, and dark-rinse skinny jeans, my hair in a ponytail, my skin clean and completely free of makeup. Inside the sleeping bag was Mom's old dress and a pair of nude patent leather heels that pinched like hell but that I would suffer through. I tucked my pillow under my arm.

Oh, and galoshes. I was back in my damn galoshes.

But strip off my clothes and I was a prom paper doll ready to be dressed. I'd triple-shaved my legs to make sure every inch was smooth. My feet were pumiced and lotioned, with toenails painted raspberry red. I'd dotted perfume along my collarbone. I had on my strapless bra and my cutest pair of underwear, a pale pink cotton bikini with a ruffled edge, because Morgan had reminded me that Jesse and I would probably share a sleeping bag.

We hadn't done more than kiss. But I suddenly began to imagine the possibility of losing my virginity to Jesse Ford, the boy of my dreams, in my mean old principal's house, before our entire town slipped under water.

If the rain hadn't been pounding my window, none of it would have felt real.

But it was real, as real as poor Russell Dixon being escorted out of his home, as Sheriff Hamrick's warnings, as my waning hope that there would be a happy ending for Aberdeen.

The epicness of all those things combined turned something I wouldn't have considered into something I desperately needed. Because I knew sex with Jesse would overshadow all the terrible things that had happened. It would give me something good to cling to. That was the power of Jesse Ford. Being with him made everything else I was feeling inside disappear. And I needed that now, more than ever before.

So I decided it right then and there. Yes. If the chance to have sex with Jesse Ford at Secret Prom presented itself, I'd take it.

I sent him a quick text. Weirdly, I hadn't heard from him since he dropped me off yesterday afternoon.

Hey Prom Date. Guess what? The last 24 hours of my life have sucked so hard, it's not even funny. I don't even know where to start. Sigh. Anyway, I can't wait to see you tonight.

I held my phone for a few minutes after. And then I turned it off so I wouldn't have to invent a reason for why Jesse wasn't writing me back
.

•  •  •

Morgan was to pick me up at 8 p.m. I waited until 7:59 to go downstairs.

Mom was lying across the entire living room couch. I figured she was doing paperwork, but she was actually reading a book, something I hadn't seen her do in forever. It looked old. The dust jacket was flaking away in places, and the author photo on the back was dated, a woman in big shoulder pads and bigger hair.

Though I didn't say anything to her, Mom sat up and glanced at her wristwatch. “Oh no! I meant to only read a chapter or two! I have work to do.” She rolled her neck in a circle. “Is your father still outside?”

I shrugged. He was supposedly working, though I didn't hear any tools, just his radio.

“Keeley. Is everything okay? You've barely said two words to me all week.”

I turned and smiled my fake smile. “Yeah. Everything's okay.”

“Good. Have fun tonight.”

I watched her cross the room. She paused at Dad's dirty plate from lunch, still left on his computer desk. She looked as if she was about to pick it up, but then didn't. Which annoyed me. Dad was still working hard, harder than Mom even knew. And she decided now to be a bitch about him cleaning up after himself? I would never forgive her for meeting with the adjusters behind his back. In fact, I was starting to blame my waning hope on her. Maybe she'd compromised him, if the mayor and the governor knew she wanted to take the money and run.