The Sky Above Us by Natalie Lund

The Sky Above Us by Natalie Lund

Author:Natalie Lund [Lund, Natalie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780525518037
Google: sUrSDwAAQBAJ
Amazon: 0525518037
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2021-04-12T23:00:00+00:00


* * *

• • •

Theo begins untying the boat while we climb in. It dips with my weight, and I sit immediately, right where I stepped in. Janie is already at the helm and Izzy sits on the bench across from me. She moves her legs, presumably so that I can sit beside her, but I stay planted on my side of the boat. I know it will be too loud to talk anyway, and I want to be alone in the whirring, splashing pocket of sound.

Janie points at the bench where three life jackets are stored, and we all pull them on over our funeral clothes. The vest is damp, and I can feel it soaking my mom’s cardigan.

Janie is a nervous driver, and that’s no different with a boat. She taps her thumbs on the wheel, bites her lip, and glances back at Theo, who is standing on the dock with his hand bridged over his eyes. The boat glides at a snail’s pace out of the marina, so there’s no threat that we’ll hit something. When we clear the bay and Janie hits the throttle, we’re still moving slowly. This is a tourist’s boat. A toddling-around-the-bay boat.

We pick up speed as we approach the southern end of the island and loop around, heading north toward the beaches, toward the party beach. My hair is whipping, curling around my neck, tickling my cheeks, dashing across my forehead. There is no order out here, no calmness.

Izzy looks right at me and says something. I cannot hear her, and I try to read her lips as she repeats it. I decide that she’s apologizing.

It’s okay, I mouth because my voice will get lost.

She grins, and I feel lighter. I think I can face this moment, looking into the water where we lost the boys—even if she brings up the dolphins—because our friendship is solid. Because I can be Cass and she can be Izzy, and there are years and years of us to stand on.

Janie cuts the motor to a purr, and then off. We float. And drift. I’m struck by the vacuum of sound. My ears almost throb with it. There’s only the water lapping against the side of the boat. There’s only us, waiting for Izzy to say or do whatever we have come here for.

It’s hard to get my bearings from this view of the beaches. Between Adventure Pier and the northern tip, it is one flat stretch. The businesses and hotels across Ocean from the seawall provide the best guidance. There’s also a statue of an angel mounted on the seawall, across from the Kroger. The angel was built in 1910 to commemorate the victims of a particularly devastating hurricane. We call her Gully because of the number of seagulls that have shit on her head and dress.

The night of the party, several people stopped at the Kroger for mixers and snacks. They carried the bags across to Gully, climbed down the steps, and walked north, closer to Gilligan’s, a place famous for fried oysters the size of a child’s fist.



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