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It’s not quite the apology Richard was hoping for.
“That’s okay,” Daisy says automatically. Bless her for being so forgiving, but I want to see Lacey work for it.
“No,” Lacey says, after she’s had a moment to think. She looks Daisy in the eyes. “It’s not okay. I’m really sorry I haven’t been the best sister. I’m just…I want to be a good sister, I just feel like I’m a burden to you.”
“What?” Daisy exclaims. “A burden? Not at all. How could you think that?”
“Because I’m not as happy as you. Because I’m moody, and I take things seriously. I feel like a wet blanket, but I can’t help the way I am.”
“I’m glad you’re that way,” Daisy assures her. “You’re the realist. It keeps me on my toes. It balances me. Ying and yang.”
Lacey’s eyes well up. “I was so jealous of you, you know. Because mom and dad let you do what you wanted, when all they did was put pressure on me to be the best. I just wanted your freedom, I wanted how easily you seemed to handle each situation.”
Now Daisy’s eyes are watering. “No, no, I was jealous of you. Mom and dad only cared about you and what you did, they didn’t care about me at all. I felt neglected, you got all the attention.”
“That’s just not true,” Lacey sobs. Now she’s crying and Daisy is crying.
Then Lacey gets up and goes over to Daisy’s chair and puts her arms around her, and they’re both crying together.
Honestly, this was all I wanted. Atarangi and I didn’t always get along and though the last thing I said to her before she died was “good luck,” I wish I could go back to all those times we were fighting and erase them. You never really know how to appreciate your siblings until they’re gone and it’s too late.
Shit, man.
If I keep watching this sappy scene, soon I’ll be crying.
But a strange sound catches my attention, somewhere beyond the roar of the wind and the incessant patter of rain.
Fred suddenly gets to his feet, looking ill.
He stumbles toward the door, opens it to the storm, and runs outside.
“What the hell?” I get up, my chair scraping loudly on the concrete floor, and run after him.
The storm is intense. I’m soaked again in seconds and rain pours down in my face, tasting of the ocean salt that’s been whipped into the air. The palm fronds are waving violently, and the air is charcoal gray.
I turn and see Fred running down to the lagoon. He runs up onto the dock, almost slipping, then frantically tries to undo the knot to the dinghy as the dinghy keeps slamming into the wood.
What is he…?
Fred stops, cups his hand over his mouth and yells toward the lagoon, “Wilsooooooooooon!”
Wilson?
At first I think Fred is doing his best Tom Hanks impression, but then I see Wilson, the goat, in the lagoon. He’s only a hundred yards away, but he’s drowning, trying to move his legs, barely keeping his head above water.
He lets out a panicked bleat, a sound that breaks my heart.
“Oh my god!” Daisy cries out from beside me, Lacey and Richard running up behind her.
“I’m coming Wilson!” Fred cries out but the knot won’t come undone. “I’m sorry I left you behind, I meant to come back for you!”
“Are those sharks?” Lacey squeaks.
I look back. Why yes, in the distance behind Wilson, is a shark or two. They don’t look too big, but they’d quite happily, and easily, tear a goat apart.
Fuck.
I look back to Fred, whose face is red, crushed in panic as he tries helplessly to get the knot undone, crying out every time his fingers slip. I saw him tie it up extra tight earlier because of the storm. I can’t tell if he’s crying or it’s the rain, all I know is that he’s about to lose his best friend.
Not if I can do something about it.
I kick off my shoes and run right into the lagoon, splashing through the shallows, knowing very well that whatever fuss I’m kicking up in the sand is creating the perfect environment for a shark attack.
“What are you doing, Tai!” Daisy is screaming bloody murder from the shore. “Tai!”
I have to ignore her. I keep going, pushing through the water toward Wilson.
Wilson stares at me with his weird goat eyes, giving me a look that says he’s giving up. He’s too exhausted to keep trying.
His head starts to go under.
The sharks come closer.
I push off the bottom and start swimming now, using quick powerful strokes, not a single second to waste.
Then I’m diving under, briefly opening my eyes into the sandy, murky water.
I see Wilson.
I grab him under his front legs and haul him up to the surface.
He spits out water, making a sad little gurgling sound, but he’s alive.
