The Fires Beneath the Sea ebook - Lydia Millet (primary phonics .txt) 📗

a bit of a hike too. Kind of beyond our travel budget.”

“Anyway,” said Jax, “we know the general area now, and that’s not it. It’s not going to be too far offshore.”

Cara felt disappointed; she’d thought Max would be more help.

“You guys play golf, I’m going to ride down the street,” she said. “To buy some fries. Be back in fifteen.”

If you cut back down the road behind some buildings there was a greasy spoon/convenience store, one of the mom-and-pop operations off Route 6 that was only open in summer. Their fries were skinny and crunchy. Cara stood in line behind a couple of fishermen, waiting to order; one of them she thought might be Zee’s father, a bearded guy who was always sunburnt on his nose, but she wasn’t a hundred percent sure.

He was talking to the other guy about work—something about a red tide, which she knew was a bad thing because it meant the shellfishery had to be closed, at least while the red tide lasted. It was bad for business; it hurt the fishermen and in the restaurants it irritated the tourons.

“Chris was saying it’s polluted runoff that causes it,” said the one who might be Zee’s dad.

“No way. It’s a natural deal,” said the other. “It’s algal bloom, man.”

At that Cara started and edged closer. Algal bloom … She thought she remembered something about them. They could be phosphorescent, sometimes; they might be poison, but sometimes they were beautiful.

“But pollution can make that stuff happen. They had one in China last month.”

She was almost sure it was Zee’s dad. Should she ask him? Ask him where the next one was supposed to be?

“You seen one when it’s glowing? A few years back there was one like that … glowing all over the bay at night. Friend of mine saw it, I didn’t. They didn’t shut down the beds that year though.”

“In ’05 that one came down from Canada, right? But that one didn’t glow.… Yeah, hey, Lynn, I’d just like a burger.”

“Hi, Lynn, I’ll take a burger and a Coke .… Yeah, looks amazing. Kind of this greenish blue on the waves. Those little critters turn bright green, and there are billions of ’em….”

They moved away from the window as Cara stood there, frozen. This was it.

“Just fries, please,” she said, distracted.

She had her fries in one hand and was holding her handlebar with the other, bumping slowly back through the gravelly lots behind the row of buildings, when she stopped and whispered it to herself.

“The fires. Green fires beneath the sea.”

“No,” said their dad at dinner, which was frozen lasagna since Lolly didn’t cook for them on Sundays. “I haven’t heard of a red tide this year. Not around here, anyway, or not yet. Why do you ask, Cara?”

“I heard some men talking about it, is all,” she said.

“Speaking of men talking,” said their dad, “I have to be away tomorrow, and the next night, too. Now, I’ve been thinking about it, and I can certainly ask Lolly to stay here with you at night, if you’d like. Or one of your old babysitters. But the thing is, most of the ones that are still around are barely older than Max—the older ones have gone off to college. And I was thinking we might try it without a sitter, because I’ve been impressed lately with your maturity. All three of you, actually. Now, that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be nervous. And I’d need you to check in by phone frequently. This would be a first time for us, and it’s been a tough summer. But I do know Max is perfectly capable of watching Jax, and Cara, for the most part, can take of herself. Still, if you have any doubt about going it alone, I’d feel better if there was a grownup here with you.”

“What are you going away for?” asked Jax.

“I’m supposed to give a paper in Chicago,” said their dad. “It was scheduled way back, before … you know. They plan these academic conferences for years in advance. And actually, if any of you don’t want me to go—I mean, given the situation, I was thinking of canceling anyway.”

“No way,” said Max and put down his glass of water. “I can watch Jax. We’ll be fine. Really.”

“Go,” said Cara. “We’ll be OK.”

“Definitely,” said Jax.

“What’s the forecast?” asked Cara suddenly.

It had struck her: the three of them alone in the house, at night.

With rain falling.

“I haven’t checked,” said her dad with a quizzical look. “Why so meteorological?”

“Oh, nothing,” she mumbled and stuck her fork into the remains of her lasagna.

Rain again. The rain that brought him.

“Lolly will come to make you dinner, anyway,” their dad went on. “That much I planned with her already. Both nights, on Monday and Tuesday. But if you’re comfortable with Max as a babysitter, she’ll just go home after that.”

“I promise,” said Max and raised his hands like he was surrendering. “No wild parties.”

“And no girls over,” said their dad, and then coughed discreetly.

Usually he didn’t even go there; it was their mother’s job to have the embarrassing conversations with them about safe sex and responsibility. She’d just had one with Cara this spring. Even though she was pretty easy to talk to, it still made Cara cringe to think about it. Ugh. Why did they even bother?

“Scout’s honor,” said Max, nodding.

Jax had pulled out his phone and was typing away on it. His fingers were small, and he could go incredibly fast, even over the miniscule buttons. Cara could tell he was on the Web; the house had wireless. Then he put it away again.

“The forecast,” he told them, “is for storms.”

Five

“See, the bioluminescence associated with some red tides, or algal blooms,” said Jax to Cara the next morning, while they were out walking Rufus, “is caused by phytoplankton.”

They’d waved their dad off to catch the boat for Boston; Max had gone with him