Max said: “Won’t that ruin them?”
Newton pointed at the words running down the side of the plugs in small green type: Marine Standard. “That means they’re waterproof.”
They washed off the gray-pink curds in the frigid sea. They did so carefully, the way you’d wash oil off a baby mallard.
When they were clean, Newton put them on the big flat rock to dry. Newton chose it specifically because it was large, and flat, and flecked with pink granite. A very peculiar rock. He chose it because he wanted to be absolutely sure they could find the spark plugs again.
Max knocked on the motor’s gas tank. His knuckles brought forth a hollow whonk.
“Sounds almost empty.”
“What about the generator?” Newton said. “It should have gas.”
They returned to the campsite. The cap had been wrenched off the generator’s gas tank. The surrounding earth held the gleam of spilled gasoline. Max rocked the generator. Nothing sloshed inside.
A pall of hopelessness fell over them. The universe was aligned against them. Why? It struck Max that the universe ought to find better targets. Had to be plenty of psychopaths and deadbeats out there, right? Why pick on a couple of kids? The universe could be a stone-cold asshole sometimes.
“What about the emergency jerry can?” Newton said. “The Scoutmaster kept it in the cellar.”
The steps groaned as they traced their way down the stairs. Bars of sunlight fell through cracks in the cabin floor. The cellar was eerily clean: not a single spiderweb, none of the sickly gray mushrooms Max had spied growing in the corners when he was down here the other day.
God, Kent must have eaten them, he thought queasily.
Max picked the jerry can up. It was joyously heavy.
“There’s at least a gallon in here,” he said.
Maybe the universe wasn’t such an asshole after all. But it sure as hell made you suffer something fierce.
Case in point: when they returned to the boat, the spark plugs were gone.
THE PINK-FLECKED rock was bare except for two wet spots where they had lain. Newton actually laughed—a strangled squawk of disbelief.
“They’re here,” he said, shaking his head, a strained smile on his face. “No, no, they’re here somewhere, I’m sure of it. Where the hell else could they be?”
The boys waded into the frigid surf and poked doggedly around the rocks. Maybe a big wave had crashed up on shore and pulled them into the sea. But that couldn’t be—the rocks were dry as saltines. Their ankles turned pink, then blue. Max stomped out of the water.
“Are you kidding? Where the fuck are they, Newt?”
“How should I know? I left them here.”
“You should’ve put them in your pocket.”
“So it’s my fault? Are you serious? What do you think happened—a fish jumped up and swallowed them? A bird flew off with them?”
“Okay, what if a bird did pick them up? A pelican, like the ones perched on the buoys out at Barker Bay? My dad says they swallow soda cans.”
“God. Don’t be so stupid.” Newton adopted a superior tone—as if he were talking to a preschooler who’d just claimed the Tooth Fairy was real. “Pelicans are shore birds.”
“So what’s all this then, Newt?” Max spread his arms out. “Is this a shore, or are you just a big fat moron?”
“Pelicans are mainland shore birds. This is an iiiisland. Mainland shore birds don’t fly to iiiiislands. Do you understand that, or do I need to draw you a map—”
Max took two steps forward, planted his palms in Newton’s chest, and shoved. Newton went down with a jolt. Max expected him to stay down just as he always did—but instead Newton propelled himself off the rocks and drove his shoulder into Max’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him.
They tumbled across the shore, striking at each other. Their blows didn’t have much pop, but they were thrown with cruel intentions. Newton’s fist collided with Max’s nose, and the impact set Max’s skull bone ringing like a cathedral bell. Max rolled over, snarling, and his elbow caught Newton under the chin. Blood leapt into the air, startlingly bright in the morning sun.
They shoved away from each other, breathing hard. Max’s nose was a squashed berry. Blood lay stunned across his cheeks. The wound in his abdomen had opened up again. Blood was dripping from Newton’s chin. They eyed each other warily, trying to gauge whether the fight was over or this was just an interlude before hostilities commenced anew.
“Are we done?” Max mumbled.
“Yeah, we’re done,” Newton said with downcast eyes.
They sat in silence as the adrenaline burnt out of their systems. In its wake came dull relief. It was like tripping the release on a steam gauge: they could breathe easier and think straighter.
Max offered Newton his hand. Newton took it. Max pulled him up.
“That was a waste of time and energy,” Newton said.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know why guys do it. I feel sick. I taste blood between my teeth.”
“Sorry.”
Newton shrugged. “Don’t be. I did it, too.” He smiled out the side of his mouth. “Bet you didn’t see that coming, did you? WWAMD!”
“What?”
“Nothing. Your nose okay?”
Max gripped the tip of his nose, wiggled it. “Hurts, but I don’t think it’s broken.”
They looked out over the sea.
“It was Shelley,” Max said.
“Yeah,” Newton said. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“You figure he chucked the spark plugs into the sea?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You think he took them with him?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You figure he wants us to come find him?”
“Uh-huh. Hide and go seek. Fetch boy, fetch.”
Max sighed. He felt about a hundred years old.
“Red rover, red rover, please send crazy asshole Shelley over.”
“Olly olly oxen free.”
“Come on,” said Max. “We got to find him.”
43
THEY SET off in pursuit of Shelley just after noon.
“I got my animal-tracking badge last year,” Newton said to lighten the mood. “But, y’know, they don’t give out a man-tracking badge.”
They decided to search the areas off the main trail. Shelley couldn’t have gone too far. Before leaving, they ate the last of the berries they’d collected—the ones for Eef. They tasted bitter, but they’d need the energy.
Newton packed his field book into his knapsack along with a map of the island, some rope, and a flashlight. Max snapped a branch off an elm tree. It was as thick and as long as a mop handle. He sharpened one end to a wicked point.
“I don’t want him coming near us, Newt.”
“How else are we going to get the plugs?”
“Maybe we can convince him to toss them to us.”
“You think?” Newt looked dubious. “You don’t figure he’d swallow them, do you?”
They set off on that unhopeful note. The sun was obscured behind ashy clouds. The temperature had dipped. The daylight was already starting to fade. They were bone-tired before they even took their first steps on the steep switchbacking trail.
“I saw him last night, you know,” Newton said. “Shel. He came round while you were sleeping.”
“Wait, what? What for?” Max shivered involuntarily. “What did he do?”
“Just crouched there. Watching, you know. The way Shelley does.”