Abduction: Recompense, #4

By Michelle Isenhoff

You've read Jack's story. You know the important role her grandmother Ruby played, turning evidence against the Bruelim and initiating the Axis investigation at the end of the Provocation. Now read Ruby's full story.

Kidnapped from her home and taken to Brunay, Ruby has become one of the missing.

Ruby Parnell has given little thought to the disappearances happening all across the North American Republic. She's focused entirely on her upcoming high school graduation and subsequent escape. More than anything, she longs to board a ship and leave Tidbury Bay forever. Though she appreciates the wild beauty of the harbor and the protection its isolation has offered, she needs to get out and touch the world around her. There are a million places she yet to see. 

Ruby has another reason for wanting to leave. Namely her sister. How can two people related by blood be such polar opposites? Ruby can never live up to the standard Opal has set; she doesn't even want to try. Opal is the good student, the uncomplaining worker. She's such a model of perfection that Ruby never sees her betrayal coming. In a moment of emotional recklessness, Ruby flees to the woods alone. She awakens a captive of a cruel race in a land she's never heard of before. 

Ruby's about to find out what happens to the missing. 

Abduction is a full-length prequel to the Recompense series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michelle Isenhoff
• Release date: May 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393431725

Michelle Isenhoff

MICHELLE ISENHOFF's work has been reader-nominated for a Cybils Award, the Great Michigan Read, and the Maine Student Book Award. She's also placed as a semi-finalist in the Kindle Book Review Book Awards, a finalist in the Wishing Shelf Book Awards, and earned multiple Readers' Favorite 5 Star seals of approval. A former teacher and longtime homeschooler, Michelle has written extensively in the children's genre and been lauded by the education community for the literary quality of her work. These days, she writes full time in the adult historical fiction and speculative fiction genres. To keep up with new releases, sign up for her newsletter at http://hyperurl.co/new-release-list.

Book preview

ONE

Skydiving! Are you serious? I yank off the blindfold I have been peeking through and gape at Billy incredulously. You’re taking me skydiving?

He shrugs with a sly grin. If you’d rather not…

I want to!

Billy laughs. I thought you would.

I stare out the window of Billy’s ancient pickup truck and study the airport in greater detail. It’s tiny. Just a grass runway and a rust-streaked, arch-roofed hangar. Weeds have taken over the dirt yard, and gravel crunches under our tires as we navigate the drive. I read the faded letters painted on the front of the hangar: Blake’s Flying Service.

I tuck in close beside Billy on the bench seat and let out a squeal. We’re going skydiving!

Correction. You are going skydiving. I’m staying in the airplane.

My face falls just a little. You’re not jumping?

You know I hate heights. And I hate freefalling. Give me a little credit. At least I’m going up in the plane.

No, Billy is not a thrill-seeker. His job is risky enough, fishing in every kind of weather in the trawler he owns with his father. I won’t complain. How did you ever find this place? I ask instead.

My dad knew a guy who knew a guy.

With the economy on shaky footing, not too many people could make a living providing such a luxury service, and the ancient hangar bears testimony to lean times. It looks like a dinosaur from the earliest days of flight. Are you sure this is safe?

Billy gets an amused look in his eyes. Are you kidding? Ruby Parnell is concerned about safety? The same girl who wants to swim with sharks and hunt lions and climb Mount Everest? I chose skydiving because it seemed one of your tamer ideas.

So my bucket list is a little extreme. Even as a kid, I would ask my father to let me try surfing or take me deep-sea diving. I once spent an entire month begging to go zorbing after seeing the sport featured online. To my fifth-grade eyes, rolling downhill in a giant hamster ball looked like a grand adventure, but I guess Dad only saw the medical bills. He compromised with horseback riding lessons—sedate rides along bridle trails that didn’t exactly live up to my expectations. But crashing an airplane has never made my top-ten list. If the condition of the plane looks anything like the building it’s housed in, I have reason to be concerned.

Billy parks the truck beside the hangar and turns off the ignition. Don’t worry. I’ve got it on good authority that Blake is a whiz of a mechanic and the best flyer around.

I beam up at him, taking in the straight nose, strong chin, and comfortable broadness across his shoulders. I can’t believe you’re doing this for me. Thank you, Billy.

You’re welcome. He smirks. You better graduate or you owe me a week’s salary.

We step out to the empty parking lot, and I aim my reply over the truck bed. Guaranteed. I don’t want to spend one hour longer than necessary trapped inside a classroom.

I have big plans after graduation. Plans that don’t include Tidbury, the tiny ocean town in which I’ve grown up. But they do include Billy Wildon. I’m just not sure how to connect all the dots yet.

I catch his hand and we walk toward the hangar. No one sits inside the attached office, so we enter through the big door. Billy calls into the interior. Hello? Mr. Blake?

A clank of metal greets us. I’m in the back, comes a muffled shout. Be with you in a sec.

I squint into the huge open space. Sunlight slants down from a window high on the wall. The interior is filled with old automobiles, scattered engine parts, and power tools. Canvas drapes an old travel trailer in one corner, and dust particles drift in and out of the sunbeam. The building smells of grease and dank cement.

A short, sturdy man approaches from behind the trailer, wiping his hands on a rag. He’s perhaps fifty, wearing a faded ball cap and sporting a week’s worth of scruff. He tucks the rag in the back pocket of his jeans and holds out his hand. Billy Wildon?

Billy accepts the handshake. Yes, sir. You must be Mr. Blake.

John Blake. Nice to meet you. And this is our graduate? he asks, eyeing me in a friendly way. Congratulations, young lady.

Thanks. I’m Ruby.

So, you want to go skydiving, do you?

Yes, sir.

And you’re over eighteen?

Last month.

Very well. Follow me and you can fill out the paperwork while we wait for Zack to get here.

Zack? I ask as he leads me and Billy out the hangar door and back to his office.

Zack Clifford, my skydiving instructor. He’s the one who will be making the jump with you. I just fly the plane.

He pulls out a pair of papers from behind a counter and shoves one in front of me and the other in front of Billy. Just a liability waiver and bill of service. I need your signatures.

I read through the document before signing it while Billy takes a wad of cash from his wallet. Most folks reverted to cash following the Continental War. Even forty years later, memory of the economic collapse remains crystal clear in the minds of the survivors. Granddad talks about it sometimes. He tells me the North American Republic in which I have grown up is a shadow of the nation his grandparents knew.

We hand back the papers. Mr. Blake files them behind the counter and hoists a backpack and a harness to the countertop. Zack was in here earlier packing the parachute. He should be back before too—oh, here he is.

Before he finishes speaking, a rusty automobile spits gravel across the parking lot. I’m pretty sure the car is older than the tall, lanky kid who gets out of the driver’s seat. Zack Clifford moseys into the office balancing four cups of coffee on top of a pastry box.

Sorry I’m late. I always treat myself to a donut and a strong cup of joe before I jump. Just in case it’s my last meal. His eyes land on me and he winks. I brought enough for everyone. He sets the cups on the counter and opens the box, tossing nose-length brown hair out of his eyes.

Mr. Blake snatches a coffee. Thanks, kid. But no donut. Not my idea of a final feast.

Billy declines both. No, thank you. Sugar and caffeine will make me more jittery than I already am.

I take it you’re my jumper today?

No way. Billy points to me. She’s the crazy one. I’m just trying to work up the nerve to get in the plane.

Zack’s smile widens as he turns to me. Donut?

Sure.

Have two. Looks like you and I are the only takers.

I grab them both. And a cup of coffee.

Zack slings the backpack and harness over his shoulder. Snatching up his coffee and both remaining donuts, he jerks his head toward the door. Well then. Let’s get to work.

He leads us outside and around the back of the hangar to where a pretty little yellow plane waits in the sunshine. It looks to be in excellent condition—far better than the rest of the place. Zack stops at a picnic table alongside the building and explains our gear one item at a time. This backpack holds our parachute. This is a tandem harness. And these are our snazzy outfits. He indicates the goggles and jumpsuits Mr. Blake leaves on the table before heading to the plane for a preflight check. Have a seat. We have some information to go over.

I smile excitedly at Billy as we tuck onto the bench.

Zack is young—he can’t be much older than me—but he seems to know his stuff. First, he gives me an overview of the jump and tells me what to expect at each point. Next, he fills me in on a few rules and discusses exiting and landing procedures. Then he calls me up and demonstrates how the tandem harness works. We’re definitely in each other’s personal space. Basically, I’m strapped to his chest.

He gets a little flirtatious when he starts going over proper body position during freefall and parachute flight. I don’t mind. He’s cute. And I’m used to it. I own a mirror. I know what guys are seeing when they look at me—long blonde hair, upturned nose, big blue eyes, and a figure that cooperated in all the right places. I’m not above working them to my advantage. Today, I mind my manners for the most part. Billy is sitting at the table, and he’s sweet and he’s paying. But a tweak of jealousy now and again isn’t such a bad thing. I cast a playful look in his direction, but he’s too nervous to notice.

Within twenty minutes, we’re suited up and boarding the plane. Zack and Mr. Blake exchange a few words about wind currents, knots, and altitude. Then Zack gives me a thumbs-up. We’ve got a beautiful day for a jump. You ready?

More than ready.

Nervous?

Not at all.

That’s my girl. He grins. You’re not going to hurl during freefall, are you?

I did just eat two donuts and downed a cup of coffee. I wrinkle my nose. I don’t think so.

Good. Because I’m going to be directly behind you. What you lose, I catch.

I laugh and choose the seat beside Billy. His skin is pale beneath his dark tan. I grab his hand and squeeze it encouragingly. Zack hands him a barf bag. He accepts it with a wry smile.

Mr. Blake turns around to address us from the cockpit. Buckle in. Since we have such a clear day, I’ll take a turn around the neighborhood to let you look around a bit before we hit the jump zone. Everyone ready?

Zack shoots him another thumbs-up. Billy gives a wan nod. I’m so excited, I shout out a loud, Yes!

Mr. Blake grins, fiddles with some controls, and the tiny plane sputters to life with a pop and a rattle. Billy clutches the seat in a death grip as we taxi out to the runway, but my blood accelerates with every bump and shake of the plane. I’m so excited I can hardly hold myself in my seat.

We pick up speed, nearly jarring our teeth loose on the grassy strip. Then, with a lurch that leaves my stomach on the ground, we’re airborne.

I press my face against the window and watch the earth recede. Our movement is so smooth, so effortless, I’m completely mesmerized. Within moments, the airfield has faded into oblivion amid a quilt of fields and forest. Automobiles look like toys. Houses become small wooden blocks. People seem of no more significance than insects.

Zack leans in next to me. Recognize anything? The engine is so loud we have to shout to be heard.

I spot the red water tower of a nearby town. Is that Diamond Falls?

Sure is.

Then Tidbury must be… I gasp as the plane rotates and my hometown comes into view—along with the vast blue blanket of the ocean. Oh, Billy. Look!

Billy’s jaw is clenched and he’s staring straight ahead, appearing more than a little airsick. But he turns at my urging, and I can see the wonder creep into his eyes as he views the water. It’s endless and variegated, colored in every shade of blue—so pale along the coast that it’s almost green, and farther out, a deep, dark azure. This is his domain. His livelihood. Its splendor leaves us speechless.

The plane continues its circle, and the ocean rotates behind us. We’re heading back over the patchwork of land.

Where’s the drop zone? I ask.

We’re nearing it. See the big white X in the middle of that field, about three miles out?

That’s it?

That’s it. Blake’s going to take us a bit upwind. Then when we jump, we aim for the bullseye. Time to buckle in.

I back against him, and he fastens the four clips that secure us together. Then he turns to Billy. Still got your seatbelt on?

Billy nods.

Keep it on. I’m going to open the door, and it will stay open until you land. Understand?

Billy nods again.

If you unbuckle, you could fall out and die, Zach reiterates.

Got it. Billy tries to grin at me. It comes off badly, but he’s made the effort. Good luck, Ruby.

Zack rolls up the door and holds on to the hand bar along the top. The wind rips into us at twice the speed of an open car window.

We’re almost over the zone, he says. You ready?

I nod eagerly.

You want to roll out or dive?

Dive!

I can hear the grin in his voice. All right. Hold onto your straps. We’re going to jump out facing the front of the plane. One…two…three!

Together we leap into nothingness.

The relative wind hits my face at full force. It’s not the sensation of falling so much as plunging into a really powerful stream of air. I can see the airplane flying away in front and above us with only sky beyond. Our forward trajectory begins to slow. Our bodies level out. Then the ground comes into view and gravity takes over.

Laughter pours out of me, along with a shriek or two, as we plunge belly-down toward the earth. The wind grabs at my jumpsuit, at my hair, at my face. It roars in my ears.

I can see Zack’s arms open on either side, holding our position steady. Let go of the straps! he shouts.

I do. He grabs my hands and spreads my arms like wings. I am flying!

We freefall for nearly a minute before the parachute jerks us to a halt. The wind noise cuts off instantly and we drift gently toward earth.

Did you like it? Zack asks.

That was amazing! I sound a little breathless.

He laughs. It’s not over yet. We’ve got great visibility.

We talk as we drift, our conversation a little freer without Billy.

So, you’re from Tidbury?

Yeah, but not for long.

Getting out of Dodge?

I hope to. I graduate next weekend.

Any future plans?

I shrug within the harness. I’ll have to see what opportunities come available.

I like that philosophy. So, who’s the stiff in the plane? Your brother?

I giggle. My boyfriend. This is my graduation gift.

Bit of a landsman, isn’t he?

A waterman, actually.

Well, you ever ditch him, you let me know. I can get you great skydiving rates.

I grin. You got it.

We land with hardly a bump, right in the middle of the X and only a short walk from the hangar. Billy and Mr. Blake have already landed. They meet us with a van a few minutes later. As soon as I’m free of the harness and jumpsuit, I run to Billy and plant a huge kiss on his lips, mostly out of gratitude but partly to let Zack know I wasn’t serious about calling him anytime soon. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! That was the best present ever!

Billy’s kiss doesn’t contain much enthusiasm; he’s still looking a little green. Instead, he drapes his arms around my waist and smiles down at me. I’m glad you had fun.

I tilt my head teasingly. Next time you’re jumping too, right?

He groans. Next time I’ll order a video and watch it when you get home.

Rather than wait for Zack and Mr. Blake to load up the equipment and drive us back to the hangar, we decide to walk. I turn around and wave to them both. Thank you so much!

Mr. Blake lifts a hand in farewell. Zack makes a phone out of his thumb and pinkie and waggles it next to his ear. Anytime.

I smile my understanding, but I wrap Billy’s arm snugly around me as we saunter back toward his truck.

***

That evening we eat dinner with Opal and Granddad. It’s a little cramped around the table, but we’re accustomed to Granddad’s small kitchen. Opal and I have called his cabin home for four years—ever since our parents died. Opal says the tight quarters make for closer relationships. Sometimes they do. Other times they magnify little irritations into huge annoyances.

It’s been tough following in the footsteps of a sister as faultless as Opal. Especially at school. Everyone expects the same perfection out of me. The work isn’t all that challenging, but I don’t care a lick about grades. I’m all about life experience, and what you get in a classroom is pretty poor quality, if you ask me. So a couple missed assignments, a few skipped classes, they don’t bother me much. As for imitating Opal’s meek and humble personality? Frankly, I find the thought a little nauseating.

Tonight, our dinner conversation centers around my leap from the airplane.

Was it fun? Granddad asks.

I can’t hold back my grin. Oh yeah.

But Billy opted out?

I pat Billy’s hand and smirk up at him. He enjoyed a nice plane ride.

Billy smiles wryly and takes a bite of turnip greens.

Shoot, if I were twenty years younger, I would have made the jump with you, Granddad says.

Not me. Opal stands up, grabs the water pitcher, and refills everyone’s glasses. You two can do all the flying you want—in an airplane or out of one—but I like my feet firmly planted on the ground.

That strikes me as a pretty good metaphor for the differences between me and Opal. She’s all about safety, responsibility, stretching a budget. Sometimes she’s so busy planning ahead that she forgets to live. Lately, she’s been hounding me about what I’m going to do with the rest of my life, trying to convince me to continue my education. I really hope she doesn’t steer the conversation in that direction with company here.

She doesn’t. But she still manages to knock a dent into my perfect day.

I heard a girl from Diamond Falls came up missing today. Janice Emmitt. Did you know her? Opal asks me.

Should I?

No. I just wondered. She was your age, and you know so many people.

Never heard of her. But I was acquainted with two of the kids from the next town over who disappeared earlier this year—a boy and a girl. I didn’t know either of them well, but you don’t really get over it when your acquaintances vanish off the face of the earth. No clues. No suspects. They’re just gone, never to be seen again, and there’s not one thing you can do about it.

It’s been happening all over the Republic. People simply don’t come home. Here in Tidbury, we’ve been sheltered. We’re so far north and crammed so tightly against the ocean that people need a reason to come here. Apparently it’s the same for whatever or whomever is causing the disappearances. We haven’t lost anyone yet. Still, I think about it every time I go out.

So, what are the plans for Ruby’s graduation party? Billy asks.

I’m grateful to him for changing the subject.

Opal smiles. This is her territory. Just a light supper. I thought I’d offer sandwiches, a relish tray, punch and coffee, and a variety of sweets.

Are you baking that chocolate cake with the apples on the bottom? It’s my favorite. He flicks his eyebrows up and down. It’s the most animated I’ve seen him all day. He must be feeling better.

Opal laughs. I suppose I could fit that into the menu.

I slug him playfully. Hey, this is my graduation, not yours!

He grins, but he’s still looking at Opal. And the expression in his eyes pulls me up short. There’s humor, for certain, along with something else. Admiration? Affection? I’m not sure, but I don’t like it.

I scowl. Maybe I won’t invite you.

He thinks I’m still playing. His arm slides along my shoulders and he plants a kiss on my temple. You couldn’t keep me away.

His focus is on me now. Exactly where I prefer it. I smile smugly.

So, how many people have you invited? Billy asks, directing the question back toward Opal.

Around forty.

They won’t all fit inside.

Pray for sunshine. And for my sanity. I can’t afford to take a day off work, so all preparations have to be done in the evenings.

You’ll manage beautifully, just as you always do. He’s still looking at her, and that something is back on his face. Dinner’s very good, by the way. Thank you for the invitation.

Opal ducks her head. You’re always welcome.

Granddad interrupts their private conversation before I can. So, Billy. How’s the fishing season shaping up for you and your dad?

The two men move smoothly into a discussion of beams and booms, gears and finances, none of which interest me in the least. Instead, I use the time to speculate. Could there be something going on between Billy and my sister?

I know they have a history. Our parents were friends, and our families spent a lot of time together. Billy and Opal were so close growing up that everyone assumed they’d eventually marry. But Opal never staked out her territory. By the time they graduated, I had learned how to use the mirror to my advantage. It wasn’t too hard to draw Billy’s attention my way.

But he has been undemonstrative all day. Zack’s flirting didn’t faze him a bit, and I can’t think of one kiss that he initiated. His responses to mine weren’t all that great either. Zack even though we might be siblings. In truth, I’m feeling more like a kid sister than a girlfriend.

I’m going to have to do something about that.

After dinner, I help Opal clear the table, but once she starts in on dishes, I sneak out the door and tug Billy after me. There in the corner of the porch, I kiss him soundly.

After a few seconds of a mediocre response, he gently pushes me away. Don’t you think we should help your sister clean up?

That’s not what I want to hear. No.

I try again to entice him. I use my eyes, my most flirtatious smile. I press my body into his, but all I get is a halfhearted smile. Ruby, I think I’m going to excuse myself and go home. That ride today really took it out of me.

I pout in disappointment, but he sets me aside, goes in to thank Opal, and leaves me with a kiss on my forehead. I’m glad you had fun today.

Perhaps I’m imagining things. Maybe he really doesn’t feel well. He was pretty ill on that plane. What would he see in Opal anyway? She’s nice enough, I suppose. But she’s plain. And about as social as seaweed. It must have been all the excitement this afternoon, I decide as I wave Billy out of the drive.

But I gnaw my lip and rethink my stand on the jealousy issue. It pretty much sucks.

TWO

Who are you walking with for graduation? Georgina Wildon asks me from her seat across the lunch table.

The school week has felt interminable, and it’s only Wednesday. I’m as antsy as a prisoner approaching parole. Two more days till I’m free of this place forever.

David Carmichael, I answer. He’s a town kid, good-looking and athletic. Part of my extended circle.

Good choice. Georgina pops a grape into her mouth. I’m walking with Lydia Stuart. Gilbert didn’t want me to walk with another man.

I roll my eyes. Georgina, just because you’ve been dating Gilbert since you were two doesn’t mean you have to do everything he says. You can walk with whoever you want.

I know. She makes a face. But sometimes it’s just easier.

I let out a slow breath. Sometimes I worry about what Georgina is getting herself into. Gilbert Sweeny is the mayor’s son. He’s drop-dead gorgeous, with plans to follow his father into politics, but he’s not worth the arrogance he comes with. I tolerate him for Georgina’s sake. I think most folks feel the same.

Are you still planning on climbing the lighthouse ruins after graduation, or did Gilbert say you can’t do that either?

Georgina gives me a playful shove. I don’t always listen to Gilbert. Of course I’m coming. It’s tradition. She sets her jaw. Besides, he climbed it when he graduated.

I grin. Good. We’ll ditch the guys and make it a girls’ night.

Georgina fingers half a sandwich. Do you think Opal would want to come?

Why would she?

Because she never climbed the ruins when she graduated.

That was her choice. Not because she didn’t get the opportunity. She prefers puttering in the woods or her garden or the kitchen to having friends.

I bet she doesn’t prefer working fifty hours at the cannery.

I’ve never really thought about it. Mom and Dad died my freshman year—Opal’s junior year. We lived off the sale of our house until Opal graduated. It just seemed natural that she would seek employment right out of high school. Our money was almost gone, Granddad was too old, and I still had school. I guess we could ask her along if you want to.

I think we should make the gesture.

Sure. Whatever.

Georgina smiles. Are you ready for Mr. Snyder’s psychology exam? I’ve heard it’s a killer.

Georgina, when will I ever use psychology in real life? If I can graduate with a D, that’s all I’m shooting for.

She snorts. Spoken by someone who always manages to wreck the curve for everyone else. I don’t know how you do it. You haven’t cracked a book all year.

I shrug. It’s so unimportant.

Well, I’m not as lucky, she says, packing up the remnants of her lunch. I have to hit the library. I’ll see you after school?

I nod. I always drop Georgina off on my way home. She lives only two streets from school and could easily walk, but it’s the principle. Seniors shouldn’t have to walk.

I toss my lunch sack in the trash then make my way to fourth hour. Spanish. The easiest class I have. I pick up languages like I pick up clothing. I took French and German—both easy A’s—but still consider them a total waste of time. Nobody in Tidbury will ever have the need to use them. While a few French speakers might linger in the regions to our north, no one speaks German. And I don’t know a single person of Hispanic origin.

I doodle on the desk as I wait for class to start. Mr. Eberhard walks past the room, catches sight of me, and backtracks to pop his head in the doorway. I have him for econ sixth hour. He’s pretty cool as teachers go, but he’d bust me if he saw what I’ve just been doing. I lay my arm strategically across my artwork.

Ruby, I was hoping to find you. I’d like to talk to you after class today. Do you have time to stay after?

I shrug. I guess. What is it?

Not your grade, if that’s what you’re worried about. I just want to run something past you.

Yeah, sure.

He smiles and gives me a teacher-wave. Great. I’ll see you sixth hour.

Looks like Georgina will have to walk.

Spanish is dull, calc is pure drudgery, but econ is almost fun. Mr. Eberhard is at his finest, cracking jokes and telling stories when we should be prepping for finals. I think he’s as eager for summer as we are.

After class, I slouch into the chair across from his desk and wait for him to return from hall monitoring. When the chaos in the corridors grows quiet, he comes to stand in front of me with his hands in his trouser pockets.

I bet you’re wondering what this is about.

Yeah.

I’ve been watching you for several years now. Ruby, you have incredible potential. If you were to take an IQ test, you’d rate at the top of your class. But that intelligence is accompanied by zero motivation, and that’s what concerns me.

I sigh, bracing myself for another lecture. I should have known.

Mr. Eberhard settles behind his desk. I thought as your senior year approached, you’d buckle down and find some direction. I haven’t seen any evidence of that, so I’m asking you outright. What are your plans following graduation?

I’m going to climb the lighthouse, I quip.

He concedes with a half-smile, like he should have seen that one coming. Fair enough. What about next week? And the month after that? And the year after that? Ruby, how do you plan to make a living?

I shrug. I don’t know. I haven’t thought that much about it.

Are you going to apply at the cannery like everyone else in town?

Maybe. Just till I earn enough to get out of here.

And then what? Where will you go?

I shrug again. I could spend the summer as a wilderness guide or a white-water rafting instructor. I smile a little dreamily. Maybe I could teach people to skydive.

All of those occupations would suit your personality very well. However, you’d need to gain a measure of proficiency before anyone actually hired you. And learning those skills requires time, money, and training.

Then maybe I’ll just board a ship. They leave the harbor all the time. I could work off my passage in the galley and disembark someplace new.

So you plan to live hand-to-mouth, working jobs as you need the money?

Something like that.

He nods. You could see the world that way. You’d be poor as a church mouse, but you’re young enough to get by. I’d recommend a class in self-defense if you’re setting off on your own. You could find yourself in some dicey situations.

I’ll make a note of it, I say dryly.

He leans forward in his seat. Have you considered becoming an oceanographer? You’re familiar with the sea, and Mrs. Catz said you breezed through her science classes. With the right training, a job like that could take you all over the world.

He’s perked my interest, except on one point. I don’t want any more schooling.

You’ll need some kind of further education unless you want to scrape by in life.

I don’t mind scraping.

He purses his lips. What about the armed forces? You’re strong and athletic. And with your brains, you could be officer material. You’d travel and find plenty of adventure.

And lose my freedom, I point out. They’d own me.

You’re not looking at things practically, Ruby. If you put in your time now, you could have all the freedom you desire in a few years.

When I’m too old to enjoy it. I grimace. Look, Mr. Eberhard, I appreciate your concern, but I’m sure things will work out for me just fine.

What about Billy Wildon? he asks bluntly. Do you plan to marry him?

Um, too personal, I interject. And weird. He is still a teacher, usual cool factor aside.

I apologize. But I can’t see you settling down in Tidbury, and you must realize he’s tied to the sea.

That remains to be seen. I stand and throw my backpack over one shoulder. Mr. Eberhard, I will be fine. You really don’t need to worry about me.

He sighs and rises as well. I worry about all my students. It’s a different world outside these doors. He holds out a hand and I shake it. I wish you well, Ruby Parnell, whatever life holds for you.

It’s a relief to escape Mr. Eberhard’s classroom. I head for the exit with long strides, my shoes squeaking on the tile floor. If I’d known he was going to grill me, I would have come up with some excuse to beg off.

Georgina isn’t standing at our usual meeting place inside the front door. She probably grew tired of waiting for me and just walked home. I head to my car, throw my backpack in the passenger seat, and start the ignition.

As eager as I am to leave Mr. Eberhard’s twenty questions behind, they follow me onto the road. They’re the same questions my Dad would have been asking, had he lived. Dad was the steady one, the hard worker, the plan maker. Right about now he would be putting tremendous pressure on me to attend university. I’m not sure how I would have put him off. Dodging my father wouldn’t have been nearly as easy as ducking out a classroom door.

On a whim, I turn down the road I lived on with my parents. I haven’t been here in two years. The house looks different. It’s been painted blue, and the flowers Mom always tended along the front walk have been pulled up and planted over with grass. Even after four years, I get a lump in my throat. I miss them so much.

I almost came apart when they died. I’d been at such an awkward stage—the summer before high school. They were driving home from a conference in Odessa, something to do with Dad’s law practice, when an oncoming car crossed the center line and struck them head-on. It felt so unreal at first, like it couldn’t have really happened. I mean, we day-tripped to the city several times a year. It’s not like Odessa was some exotic location. But one phone call later, suddenly my parents weren’t coming home. Their warmth and laughter were replaced by two stiff caskets draped with blue roses.

At that age, I didn’t know how to handle my loss. I wasn’t equipped for it like Opal. She inherited a double dose of Dad’s practicality. His get-up-and-move-on. But I sobbed for weeks. Grief poured out of me loudly and unmistakably. I left no room for doubt.

In that way I favor my mother, who was as emotional and impetuous as they come. Maybe that’s why Dad let me get away with so much, because I reminded him of her. I learned quickly how to work that to my advantage. With a few dramatics, I could avoid most of the tasks assigned to me. It was Opal who finished her homework without coercion. Opal who helped Mom prepare dinner without complaint. Opal who made our bed and fed the cat. I let her take on as much responsibility as she would tolerate, and Dad mostly looked the other way. But when my parents died, no amount of sweet-talking,