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“Smart,” Royal says before we return to contemplative silence.
After a time, CJ says, “We could do something crazy.”
Royal angles his head toward the open water. “Is this not crazy enough for you, Hot Shot?”
My nerves fire and not only because that’s what I sometimes call Ryan, and he’s out there. He and I have circled the conversation about the future and have done everything except give each other a commitment. We’re still working off the dough-posal. What if, like the Givenator, he decides being a husband and father isn’t for him? What if I’m left alone, again?
“Why don’t we climb the lighthouse? See if that old sign is up there indicating where the barque may have sunk,” CJ suggests.
I jump to my feet, eager to do anything other than sit here and stew in my thoughts. “I’m in.”
Royal scrubs his hand down his face. “Guys, no. That’sinsane. It’s dark out. The lighthouse has long been condemned. We’re supposed to keep watch.”
“Magnus can handle whatever is happening out there.” CJ speaks with confidence that’s a level beyond simply trusting in his older brother’s abilities.
“It’s dark out,” Royal repeats, making one last attempt to convince us it’s a bad idea.
He’s not wrong, but I want to escape the doubts in my mind. “What, are you chicken?” I holler as CJ and I start to walk away.
The youngest McGregor makes bok-pok noises.
Royal catches up to us and says he’s keeping his feet on the ground and that we can go up.
Twenty minutes later, we stand at the foot of Nucifera Light. It rises into the moonlit sky like a punctuation mark against a giant sheet of paper.
The jungle grew up around it, hiding a fence, but I know where to sneak through.
Royal continues to hedge, but CJ is by my side, his phone illuminating the undergrowth. We’re careful as we make our way to the base of the massive structure.
Royal hollers, “Be careful.”
“Yes, Mom,” CJ retorts.
Taking a deep breath, I say, “It’s only two hundred and three steps.” I step onto the first one.
When we’re about halfway up the spiral, CJ starts counting out loud. So far so good.
The platform on the next landing we reach wobbles and my stomach lurches in a way it didn’t when I came up all those years ago.
“We should put a little space between us, just in case,” I suggest.
“Nothing is going to happen. If it did, Ryan would kill me and I plan to live a bit longer,” CJ says.
“Interesting reasoning.”
We make it to the top without any more trouble. The wind whips my hair and I draw it into a ponytail bun.
Stepping out onto the widow’s walk, the stone underfoot slides, eroding from the weather. I grip the rail.
“If something happens to me, just be sure to go to my house,” CJ says.
I can’t tell whether he’s joking.
“CJ, that’s the most cryptic thing I’ve ever heard. First of all, nothing is going to happen. Secondly, no one knows where your house is.”
“It’s not hard to find. Is there a thirdly?”
I’m about to ask what I would do at his house, find the Salty Skeleton, another mystery, when I spot the silhouette of the Dark Seas in the moonlight. Distracted, I slide. But there’s no rail at chest level to catch me. Arms windmilling, I lose my footing and the ground disappears. With surprisingly fast reflexes, CJ grips my wrist, but my feet dangle over the edge of the lighthouse.
