The Silver Ship and the Sea Read Online Free PDF

“What about living together?”
    “Who has to approve it?” Bryan asked me.
    “Probably Nava. I suppose we could petition Town Council. Their attention won’t be available to us until the mess is cleaned up. I’ll watch for a good opening.”
    Kayleen waved the apple in front of Joseph again, and he grunted and pushed himself to standing. His knees buckled and he crumpled, limp, his arms splayed across the floor, his cheek turned to one side. He moaned softly.
    I felt as weak as Joseph, scared for him all over again, like in the park.
    Bryan scooped him off the floor, and carried him back to bed. I followed, my breath catching in my throat. Joseph looked small and vulnerable in Bryan’s arms. Had something serious broken in him? How would we know?
    Kayleen brought the apples and a glass of water and set them on Joseph’s bedside table. As Bryan covered him with a blanket, Joseph looked gratefully at him. Yesterday morning, or any othermorning, Joseph would have turned beet-red at being carried.
    Bryan smiled down at him. “Go on, little brother, sleep. We’ll try to decide what to do.”
    Joseph nodded and rolled on his side, looking away from us at the blank wall beside his bed.
    The three of us headed back to our interrupted breakfast. “Why can’t he stand?” Bryan asked the question before I got it out of my mouth.
    Kayleen finished her milk and set the glass down. “Sometimes, when I try to handle too much data, it exhausts me, like it wears out my nervous system. Joseph was seriously immersed, right? Then jerked out? It might take a day or two before his body does what he wants it to.”
    Another knock on the door.
    I went to answer it, followed by Kayleen and Bryan.
    Nava stood there. Her hair was wet from a shower and she wore clean coveralls and a light shirt. Dark circles spread under her eyes. “Good,” she said, “you’re all here.” She paused, then drew herself up. “I know you’re hurting, but so are we all. We lost two greenhouses, one storeroom is missing its roof, and only half the houses we’ve checked so far are safe to live in.” Nava stopped and looked at us, as if gauging our reactions. “Gianna thinks there’s a storm coming. I’m going to need you all this morning. I’ll need everyone.” She looked down, her fists balled by her side.
    A deep need to be moving, doing, seemed to shoot out from Nava, as if she were a comet about to explode against some solid object. I wanted her to leave. She was looking at me. “I know you feel bad, we all do. We just”—she shrugged—“there’s no time.”
    “Of course,” I said. “The three of us will come and help. But Joseph’s asleep; he’s exhausted, he can hardly walk. He needs to rest.”
    Nava frowned, as if she wanted to contradict me, but nodded. “Should I send over a doctor?”
    Joseph would hate that. “I think he just needs rest. Please, I want to work nearby, where I can check on him.”
    “I’ll do what I can.” She glanced at Kayleen. “That means we’llneed you to work with Paloma. Be at the amphitheater in twenty minutes. All three of you.”
    “All right,” Kayleen piped up from behind me. “We’ll be there.”
    Nava turned quickly on her heel, heading for the neighbors’ house.
    “She is not happy about Joseph being out of the nets,” Kayleen said, shaking her head.
    Bryan grunted. “She could have at least asked how you were before telling you what to do.”
    We finished breakfast. None of it had any flavor.
    The gather-bell rang. I checked on Joseph while the other two picked up the kitchen. He breathed softly and evenly, clearly asleep, although soft little whimpering sounds rose from deep in his throat. I kissed his smooth cheek and straightened the blankets around him.
    We held hands as we walked over to the park. The air felt heavy and damp, pregnant with electricity and rain. Only the early crops had been harvested; the third hay cutting, the squash, and the second crop of beans were