It was the single best day of Leni’s life. So much so that when it ended, and they were on a water taxi, seated on a bench in the aft, heading for Kaneq, she had to battle a wave of sadness. On the Tusty and in town, they’d been two kids in a crowd. Now, it was just them and the water-taxi captain and a lot of water around them.
“I wish we didn’t have to go back,” she said.
He put an arm around her, pulled her close. The boat rose and fell with the waves, unsteadying them. “Let’s run away,” he said.
She laughed.
“No, really. I can see us traveling the world, backpacking through Central America, climbing up to Machu Picchu. We’ll settle down when we’ve seen it all. I’ll be an airline pilot or a paramedic. You’ll be a photographer. We’ll come back here to where we belong and get married and have kids who won’t listen to us.”
Leni knew he was just playing around, daydreaming, but his words sparked a deep yearning in her; one she’d never known existed. She had to force herself to smile, to play along as if this hadn’t struck her in the heart. “I’m a photographer, huh? I like the idea of that. I think I’ll wear makeup and high heels to pick up my Pulitzer. Maybe I’ll order a martini. But I don’t know about kids.”
“Kids. Definitely. I want a daughter with red hair. I’ll teach her to skip rocks and hook a king salmon.”
Leni didn’t answer. It was such a silly conversation, how could it break her heart? He should know better than to dream so big and to give voice to those dreams. He had lost his mother and she had a dangerous father. Families and the future were fragile.
The water taxi slowed, drifted sideways into the dock. Matthew jumped off and looped a line around a metal cleat. Leni stepped out onto the dock as Matthew tossed the line back on board.
“We’re home,” he said.
Leni stared up at the buildings perched on barnacled, muddy stilts above the water.
Home.
Back to real life.
*
AT WORK THE NEXT AFTERNOON, Leni made one mistake after another. She mismarked the boxes of three-penny nails and put them in the wrong place and then stood there staring at her mistake, thinking, Could I go to college? Was it possible?
“Go home,” Large Marge said, coming up behind her. “Your mind is somewhere else today.”
“I’m fine,” Leni said.
“No. You’re not.” She gave Leni a knowing look. “I saw you and Matthew walking through town yesterday. You’re playing with fire, kid.”
“W-what do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. Do you want to talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“You must think I was born yesterday. Be careful, that’s all I’ll say.”
Leni didn’t even respond. Words were beyond her, as was logical thought. She left the store and retrieved her bicycle and rode home. Once there, she fed the animals, carted water from the spring they’d dug a few years ago, and opened the cabin door. Her mind was so overrun by thoughts and emotions that honestly the next thing she knew she was in the kitchen with her mama, but she had no memory of getting there.
Mama was kneading bread dough. She looked up as the door banged shut, her floury hands lifting from the mound of dough. “What’s wrong?”
“Why do you say that?” Leni asked, but she knew. She was close to tears—although why, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that Matthew had pulled her world out of shape. He had altered her view of things, opened her up. Suddenly all she could think about was the end of school and him going away to college without her.
“Leni?” Mama wiped her floury hands on a washrag and tossed it aside. “You look brokenhearted.”
Before Leni could answer, she heard a vehicle drive up. She saw a shiny white pickup truck pull into the yard.
The Walker truck.
“Oh, no.” Leni ran for the cabin door, flung it open.
Matthew stepped out of the truck, into their yard.
Leni crossed the deck, rushed down the steps. “You shouldn’t have come here.”
“You were so quiet at school today and then you ran off to work. I thought … did I do something wrong?”
Leni was happy to see him and scared that he was here. It felt to her like all she did was say no and goodbye to him, and she wanted so, so much to say yes.
Dad came around from the side of the cabin, holding an ax. He was flushed with exertion, damp with sweat. He saw Matthew and came to a sudden stop. “You aren’t welcome on this land, Matthew Walker. If you and your dad want to pollute your own place, apparently I can’t stop you, but you stay off my land and you stay away from my daughter. You understand? You Walkers are a blight on our landscape, with your saloon upgrades and your hotel and your damn adventure lodge plans. You’ll ruin Kaneq. Turn it into g-damn Disneyland.”