Robin and Ruby by Soehnlein K.M

Author:Soehnlein, K.M. [Soehnlein, K.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2010-04-01T05:00:00+00:00

PART THREE

THE GARDEN STATE

Feet pressed against the dashboard, gaze fixed on the landscape through the windshield, Robin feels the heightened awareness that comes from making your way toward something: toward his sister, yes, he hopes, but also toward some larger thing that he can’t quite define or see. It’s as if he and George, moving along a rural New Jersey highway in George’s battered Cadillac, are filaments being pulled magnetically toward some stronger, steely force, some complex machine, the great and powerful Oz.

But of course Seaside Heights will not greet them like the Emerald City. It will be like high school, minus teachers and rules, plus alcohol, plus the anything-goes attitude of summer. He thinks of the time he and Ruby went to Coney Island and squealed through the ups and downs of a roller coaster, and afterward the guy from the car behind them made some comment about “the two girls who wouldn’t shut up” while the guy’s friend lisped out “that wuth thsssoooo thhsscary.” What can you do? If you say, “Fuck off,” they say, “Wanna make something of it?” You think you’re on vacation, but some things follow wherever you go.

It’s not that he expects intimidation when they get there. This anticipation feels bigger: more like confronting a monster than dealing with a bully. It has something to do with Jackson’s birthday; if today was any other day, he might have waited longer before getting on the road. Whatever trouble Ruby has stirred up has the power to set ghosts into motion.

George hasn’t said much. As he steers them along Route 70, a winding road cutting through a lush South Jersey landscape, his face is unreadable, his eyeglasses reflecting the bluish white hue of the late-day sky. The car’s air conditioning is unpredictable, so the windows are down, those that work, anyway, and hot blasts of wind carry in the smells of Robin’s childhood: cut grass, car exhaust, tar released from softened asphalt. All the foliage is familiar, too: elm trees with patchy green bark like Army-issue camouflage; round azalea bushes, their red and purple blossoms now browned and littering the ground; spindly dogwoods, refusing to let go of wilting pink flowers. This part of the state is another world from the congested suburbia where they grew up. It’s rural, quaint, stopped in time. They pass the Evergreen Dairy Barn, with its sign for “soft serve custard,” looking as if the same coat of paint has been peeling from its walls since the 1950s. Farther along is The Hub Cap Place, a nearly dilapidated shack announced by a hand-lettered sign and a fence covered with cast-off car parts. The occasional road marker points the way to towns called Chairville, Leisure-town, and Mount Misery, names that suggest histories Robin can’t quite put together.

“Look at that one,” George says, pointing to a sign marked with only an arrow and the word RETREAT.

“We’ve been warned,” Robin says, and then adds, with heroic emphasis, “Onward!”

“What are we going to do when we find her?” George asks.

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