Who We Are (The Seafare Chronicles 2)

Should I call him? No. I’ll wait another minute or two. I can imagine the conversation already, though. He’ll say hello, and I’ll demand to know where he is. He’ll laugh, a low chuckle in my ear that’ll send shivers down my spine that having nothing to do with the sea breeze. He’ll tell me that I have to come home because he has something to show me. I’ll scowl at him through the phone and tell him I don’t like being tricked, but he’ll see right through me and will tell me he loves me, and that he’ll see me soon and that everything will be okay, everything will be fine and it will. It will. It will.

I can’t wait anymore. I call him. It goes straight to voice mail. “Hey, it’s me. I’m at the beach, like your note said. You on your way?”

Five minutes later: “Me again. I’m cold, you jerk. Where the hell are you? If this is your idea of a joke, I’m not laughing.”

Ten minutes later: “Otter, I’m going to leave if you don’t call me back.

And when I find you, I’m probably going to yell at you and make you sleep on the couch. Love you.”

Twenty minutes later: “I’m cold, I have sand on my legs, and I’m pretty sure there is a homeless guy standing by my car. Your excuse had better be good because I’m going to kick you in the nuts. Otter… you’re freaking me out here. Call me back. Bye.”

Then my phone rings. It startles me, and I almost drop it to the ground. I answer it without even looking at the display. I know who it is.

“You asshole,” I say, grinning into the phone. “Where the hell are you?

You think it’s funny—”

“Bear?” a little voice says, cracking.

“Kid?” I say, surprised. I look down at the display. A number I don’t recognize. I hear background noise that sounds like it’s coming over a speaker. Someone coughs.

“Bear,” he says again, and he sounds desperate.

No, I think. No. No. No.

“Kid, where are you?”

“The hospital.”

“Why?” I croak.

“It’s… oh, Bear. Oh. Oh.”

Otter.

“Tell me, Tyson. Tell me. Please, oh God, tell me. Please. Please.”

He starts to cry. “It’s… Mrs. Paquinn. We were talking, and then she said her face felt funny and then her eye started to droop.” A great, gasping sob. “She started talking like she was drunk, and then she fell down! She fell down, and her head hit the carpet, and it made a weird noise. I called 911, and the ambulance came, but she wouldn’t wake up! I yelled at her and I screamed at her, but she wouldn’t get up!”

“How did you get to the hospital?” Please say Otter. Please say Otter.

“I rode in the am

bulance with them. Bear, they… they stuck needles in her and said that it looked like she’d had a stroke, and I couldn’t look away because she’s not dead! She’s not dead!”

A soothing voice murmured in the background, but Tyson was already on his way to being beyond consolation. I could hear the hysteria in his voice, the panic that was sharp and biting. “Mercy Hospital?” I say roughly.

“Yeah. Oh, Bear. She can’t leave me. She just can’t. Please come help me. I need you. I’m just a little guy, and I can’t do this by myself. I need you to help me.”

“I’m on my way, honey.” Otter. “I’m on my way and you just hold on.

You close your eyes and don’t open them until I get there, you hear me?

You don’t open your eyes until you know I’m there, until I’ve got you. I’m coming for you.”

“Okay. Hurry.” And then he’s gone.

I only make it four running steps before my phone rings again. I almost ignore it, but it has the same prefix as the hospital, and I know I’m the emergency contact for Mrs. Paquinn. “Hello?” I snap into the phone as I stop. I’m dizzy and I don’t think I can run and talk at the same time.