Rising Sea by Ginger Booth

Author:Ginger Booth [Ginger Booth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ginger Booth
Published: 2025-12-02T00:00:00+00:00

22

The train from Folkestone to Brussels took a couple of hours. I leaned into my air-conditioned window, determined to learn everything I could before braving the streets again. These featured charming European architecture, updated in the graffiti of rage, and crowded like Calcutta slums. Not that I’d ever visited India.

“Have you been to Europe before?” I asked Ava. I thought Cade was dozing, after staying alert to guard his womenfolk during our hours in the empty ticket line at Folkestone.

“Not since I was three,” she replied. “I was born here.”

“Sorry, I knew that.” Ava’s family was Slavic. I didn’t recall which country.

She continued, “My parents had work visas. My grandfather and I were just dependents. I think they were afraid of U.S. customs. Like we might be ripped away and sent back here.”

The US grew like that, toward the end – untrustworthy with migrants, even desirables like trained nurses, recruited to cover skill shortages. Ava’s parents were travel nurses, filling in across the nation, never staying put until Ava started at a prestigious Brooklyn high school.

“I was a kid,” Cade volunteered with a sigh, opening his eyes. “Maz and I planned to backpack around, summer after graduation. I visited Jersey instead.”

This story was coming back to me. Cade still suffered brain trauma from a battle in Jersey. Piper dragged him home, at Maz’s request. Maz commanded the gang ‘army’ that day, and couldn’t skate out of his responsibilities for his best friend. But ‘captain retreat’ Piper reliably tracked how to run away, with wounded.

The train stopped at an unrecognizable Calais. A passenger herd disembarked from other cars, after riding standing-room-only. After some clanking, the train shortened by half. I wondered why train fare was preferred over the ferry, but possibly both modes were mobbed, running far above capacity. And Europe did trains well.

The charming green French countryside looked heat-blasted, with frequent signs of flooding and fires. Too many people thronged everywhere. Few of them looked French. I expected the bounty of summer harvests. Apparently they made due with spring and autumn these days. Zipping through city centers, I caught temperature updates on digital signs, as the morning climbed from 30 Celsius, through 35. In southern France today, the trajectory suggested 40 °C or more – 104+ °F.

Like the polar regions, Europe heated much faster than Hudson.

Our blessing turned out something of a curse. Europeans understood climate change and hurried to accommodate the mounting changes. While Americans pretended nothing changed, and worried mostly about the scandalous price of gasoline when it rose a quarter. Europe sported good trains and sky-high gas prices.

Pedestrians and bicycles clogged the roads, despite the burgeoning heat, or maybe because of it – travel in the morning, for afternoon could be lethal. I liked the e-bikes with children perched on a back seat, and cute box cargo carriers. I missed the baskets of baguettes outside shuttered bakeries.

Ava used her time profitably, applying her new ouiPhone to our comms problem. Halfway to Brussels, she achieved Internet access, read-only. Cade and I studied up, while she still sought a way to phone home.

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