The Islanders Read Online Free PDF Page A

smile and say, “Oh, Nina, you’re too young to understand.” And Claire had started around age three; so . . .
    But while I was worrying about becoming a woman, my mother was dying. It hurts to this day to think how preoccupied I was with myself while she was suffering. And I know I’ll never, ever be able to think about her without wanting to cry, and feeling all over again how her death tore a hole in me that will never heal.
    That’s why my dad decided to send me away to stay with my aunt Elizabeth and uncle Mark. Dad said it would be good for me, change of scenery and so on. I guess it’s true that my mom and I were especially close, just the way Claireand my dad are close. Not that Claire wasn’t a wreck, too. I hope I never see my sister that upset again. It’s especially terrible when these cool, unemotional, in-control-type people start to lose it.
    Anyway. I was gone for two months.
    Soon after I came back, I had my first period. I thought it was punishment for what had happened while I was at my aunt and uncle’s house. Other times I thought it was punishment because I had somehow failed to save my mother. All I knew was that it was punishment, because I was sure I deserved punishment.
    Like I said, I was different when I came back home from my aunt and uncle’s house. It was like the real me never did come back. I started having dreams, often the same dreams over and over again. Some are so familiar now that I have them numbered. Dream number three, dream number four, and so on. Not pleasant dreams, but the sorts of dreams that after you wake up seem to echo through the rest of the day.
    I miss my mother every day.
    And I miss me, the way I was before.

THREE
    EVERY MORNING BENJAMIN PASSMORE AND the rest of the high-school-age kids from Chatham Island caught the seven-forty ferry. It arrived in Weymouth at five after eight, allowing exactly twenty-five minutes for the walk from the dock, uphill along Mainsail Drive, to the school. More than enough time.
    It was a distance of about a quarter mile and involved crossing eight separate streets. Benjamin had each of the distances measured out in strides. So many from the corner of Groton to Independence, so many more to cross the street, then another number from Independence to Commerce. All in all, Benjamin had memorized more than thirty blocks since losing his sight years ago, allowing him to move confidently within all of North Harbor, Chatham Island’s only town, and parts of Weymouth. Some areas he knew so well that keeping count consciously was no longer necessary. They had become as familiar as his own home. In other areas he could keep his count almost subconsciously.
    But on this morning there was a complication. Benjamin heard the high-pitched warning horns of heavy equipment backing up.
    â€œDamn,” he cursed softly. He was at the corner of Mainsail and Independence. Judging by the rumble of diesel engines and the oily smell of exhaust, he figured the equipment was probably just across the street.
    Benjamin concentrated and could hear a familiar voice coming up the street behind him. Aisha. Then, as expected, he heard Zoey’s voice.
    He disliked relying on his little sister, but there were times when he had no choice.
    When he could hear that Zoey was close enough, he smiled in her general direction and shrugged. “I think it’s exactly twenty-two paces into an earthmover.”
    â€œYeah, it looks like a water pipe broke or something,” Zoey said. “It’s a mess. I don’t think this would be a good idea for you. Pipes and mud everywhere.”
    â€œProbably not,” Benjamin agreed.
    â€œYou guys go on ahead,” Zoey said. “I’ll detour with Benjamin.”
    â€œI’ll take him,” Nina’s voice said. A tractor roared, and Benjamin could now smell a whiff of natural gas.
    â€œHi, Nina,” Benjamin said. “I didn’t hear