The Valley and the Flood by Rebecca Mahoney (10 best books of all time TXT) 📗

you self-conscious?” Felix turns to look at me. “Rose, could you look away for about ten seconds?”

“Felix,” Alex says, now through his teeth. “Watch the road, please?”

“There’s no shame in it,” Felix says. “I mean, look at this car, it’s practically a biohazard—”

Alex’s sigh doesn’t sound particularly short of breath. “I’ve been dealing with asthma at least four times longer than I’ve been dealing with you. Trust me, if I can’t breathe, you’ll be the first—”

I shift in my seat, and catching sight of me out of the corner of his eye, Alex stills. “Sorry,” he mumbles, glancing over his shoulder.

“Yeah.” Felix flashes a wobbly grin. “And sorry about the . . . welcome.”

“No,” I say, more of a laugh than a word. “It’s fine. It’s actually . . . kind of a relief, to see what you were all being so weird about.”

Felix grimaces. “In our defense, if you had her for freshman history, you’d be weird, too.”

I wince. “Ouch.”

“Thank you for your support in this difficult time,” Felix says, startling a more genuine laugh out of me. Another awkward beat. “So. You’re the mysterious stranger, huh?”

I wiggle my fingers in a weak wave. “Yo.”

“I expected someone more . . .” Felix takes a hand off the wheel to make a vague gesture. “Ominous?”

“You’ve, ah,” I say, “been very nice for someone who knows what I’m doing here.”

“Listen,” Felix says, sailing past a stop sign, “we aren’t from Lotus Valley originally. I’ve been here for two years, and I still don’t understand half the stuff that comes out of people’s mouths. Do I get this whole prophecy thing? No. Do I have questions? Boy, do I ever. Am I going to go along with it? Signs point to yes.”

“Taking things in stride is one thing,” I say slowly. “But how many people agree with your mayor?”

Felix and Alex exchange a quick look. “It’s . . .” Alex says. “Maybe about fifty-fifty.”

“Ouch,” I say again, much quieter this time.

“Tends to fall along age lines, too,” Felix says. “People under thirty-five, especially kids our age, are more likely to support Ms. Jones, while older residents are more likely to support Ms. Williams.” He throws an exasperated look over his shoulder. “Typical, right? We’re the ones who’ll be living here for the next seventy years, and yet the octogenarians want to leave us with the worst resident-neighbor relations possible.”

“They’re good people. Most of them are.” Alex looks at me through the overhead mirror. I don’t miss the shadow that passes over his expression. “And not all of them want what the mayor wants.”

“She has to be careful,” Felix agrees. “It’s not like the neighbors vote or anything, but they’re still her constituents. Technically.”

“And not all of her supporters feel the same way,” Alex says. “Some of them agree with her that the neighbors have been allowed too much leeway. Some of them are fine with them as long as they keep quiet and stay out of the way. And some of them are—well. Some of them are just worried about what would happen if we tried to overturn the charter.”

“Mostly because there were some decidedly scary characters negotiating that charter,” Felix says with a shudder. “There are things her supporters agree on, though. Wanting you gone, for one.”

I smile weakly. “That’s one way to unite the people.”

Alex’s smile is apologetic. “You should be careful who you talk to. There are people who might feel differently if they knew everything. There are people who might even benefit from you being here.”

“Benefit how?” I ask.

Alex shifts in his seat. “Ms. Jones didn’t say.”

Felix snorts. “How totally unlike our dear sheriff.”

“Don’t start,” Alex says.

Felix raises his hands defensively. Not the best thing to do when you’re driving. But before I can say anything, he puts them back on the wheel. “So, okay,” he says over his shoulder to me. “Apparently she and Cassie knew the whole time that the flood was meant to roll in on New Year’s Day, but not which year? I get keeping that quiet from the town. You don’t want to panic people, or whatever. But it would have been cool if la capitana gave her interns a heads-up.”

“How long have you been interning for her?” I ask.

“Seven months,” Felix says.

“Seven years,” Alex says at the same time.

I blink. Alex doesn’t look old enough to be interning now.

“Seven—” I take a minute to lower my voice. “You started interning when you were eight?”

“Nine,” Alex says. “And I wasn’t really interning, just running errands for Ms. Jones.”

“Still,” I say. “Did you, like, go to career day and never look back?”

“It just worked out that way.” Alex tugs absently on his seat belt. “She would have had to keep an eye on me, anyway—”

Felix looks at him. It doesn’t look like he’s warning him, I guess, but he looks serious—which is warning enough.

“We should be there in ten minutes,” Alex finally says.

He hesitates, his head already half turned away. “Rose,” he says. “We told you before to be careful what you tell people. But Mayor Williams . . . you should always assume that she already knows.”

I blink. “Why would she know?”

“She claims she can’t do it anymore,” Felix says quickly. “But she could have just been saying that for the election . . .”

“When she was younger,” Alex picks up, “she was good enough that even now, she’s still considered the most accurate prophet in Lotus Valley.”

I watch them for a moment. Maybe I’m missing something. “Does that mean she’s better than Cassie?”

Felix snorts. “Don’t let Cassie hear you say that.”

“But if she is,” I press on, “then what if she’s seen what’s coming?”

“Well,” Felix says, “that’s why Ms. Jones believes she really lost her abilities. She says Williams isn’t a bad person. And if she’s seen something that could help, she’d tell us, no matter how much she disagreed with us.”

“Then again,” Alex says, quietly enough that it might be to himself, “Ms. Jones sees the best in people.”

They both watch the road, and I stare at the back of their heads for a long moment, waiting for them