I gave Rex a sidelong glance to say Yes, it is weird. He shrugged.
We’d been driving for half an hour by then, and I turned to Sly. “Are we going to the beach?”
He kept his eyes front and said, “We’ll be there soon.”
We turned north onto the Garden State Parkway, away from Wildwood and the other beaches I vaguely knew.
Rex and I exchanged a glance and a shrug. We’d be there soon.
Fifteen miles later, we took the exit for Little Egg Harbor, then zigged and zagged a couple of times before ending up on Dock Road, a narrow causeway that had been built up to stay above the water pressing up against it on either side. It was similar in ways to the road we had taken to get to Ogden’s house, but instead of shells and gravel it had been built up with concrete and asphalt, and instead of puddles or swamp on either side, it was the bay.
The road narrowed and in places one side or another was washed out; then we came to a padlocked gate that blocked the road entirely. A sign on it said, UNSAFE ROAD. NO ENTRY.
Sly pulled up to the gate and started to get out.
“Okay, enough. Where the hell are we?” I asked under my breath.
He didn’t answer—not that I expected him to. He just unlocked the gate and dragged it open.
“Remember, you’re not supposed to be seeing any of this,” he said as he got back in.
We drove through the gate and past a few houses, or partial houses, right on the side of the road, but semi-submerged in the water. One was completely washed away except for the front wall, looking like a façade from an old movie set.
A little ways past that, the road itself disappeared under the water, resurfacing again maybe thirty yards away, on a little circle of land with a single large beach house surrounded by a low concrete sea wall. It appeared to be in perfect shape, as if it was still inhabited.
Sly got out again and walked up to a rusty old mailbox on the side of the road. He opened the side of it, revealing a crude metal security panel. He pressed a few buttons on the panel, and immediately the water started to churn between where the road disappeared under it and where it emerged on the island. One by one, a series of metal pontoons rose to the surface, forming a kind of floating bridge.
Sly got back into the van and drove us slowly out across the water. It was unsettling, not being able to see the road from either side of the van.
I gave him a sideways look. “Seriously?”
He shrugged but didn’t say anything.
The island looked bigger once we got over there. It was mostly taken up by the house, but there was a driveway leading to a two-door garage and a patio on one side. On the opposite side of the house, outside the seawall, a tiny private beach sloped down to the water.
We drove off the floating bridge, and Sly stopped the car next to a pylon on the side of the road. He flipped up yet another panel and pressed a couple of buttons. With a soft burbling sound, the bridge behind us sank back under the water as we parked next to the garages.
When we got out, the sun was still hot, but the breeze coming over the water brought some relief. Sly smiled at me and said, “She’s waiting for you. On the beach, around the other side.”
Rex whipped his head around and stared a question at Sly, but Sly ignored him, still focusing his reassuring smile at me. Rex’s question was “Who?” and I was wondering the same thing. But I got the impression Rex already knew the answer. And somehow, I suspected I did, too.
FOURTEEN
She was standing on the beach, looking out over the water. I didn’t know exactly what I had imagined, because that previous image was wiped away and replaced by what was in front of me. She was tall and broad-shouldered, with a single, long, gray braid running down her back.
I stepped over the sea wall and as soon as my foot touched the sand, she turned to look at me. She was obviously spliced, maybe more than once. It was hard to determine with what, exactly. Maybe some sort of wolf. She had a prominent nose and mouth and a strong brow over eyes that were an almost electric blue, blazing with intelligence. The overall impression was striking and strong. She must have been quite beautiful when she was younger, and she still was, but more striking than her beauty was the dignity and wisdom she exuded. Through the years I could almost recognize her, my dim memories reconciling with the person I saw in front of me. And through the splice, I could see the resemblance: to my father, to Aunt Trudy. To me.
“You’re Dymphna,” I said.
“And you are too,” she said, with a smile that brightened the world around us, as if the sun had emerged from behind a cloud. “But I know you go by Jimi. I’ve been watching you, you know. On the news . . through our friends. The pictures don’t do you justice: you’re even more beautiful in person.”
I was pretty sure I was not all that beautiful, but I got the sense she meant something other than just my outward appearance. I preferred to believe that than to think she was just flattering me. But I was too floored to be meeting her to respond right away.
“How’s your mother?” she asked. “How’s Kevin?”
“They’re…good,” I replied, thrown by the normalcy of the conversation, considering the circumstances. “Kevin just went off to college, although I suspect you already know that.”
“And Trudy? How’s—”
“She’s fine. Everybody’s fine,” I said, cutting her off. It didn’t seem the time or place to tell her Trudy was probably worried about her, and angry at her for leaving. My mom, too. “They miss you.”
“And I’ve missed them. You and Kevin, too. More than you can imagine.”
“So…where have you been all this time?”
She laughed. “Everywhere, it seems. Where haven’t I been?”
“You haven’t been here,” I said quietly.
“No,” she said sadly. “I have not been here.”
The energy radiating from her dimmed considerably, as if maybe that aura of hers took more effort than it appeared, and for a brief instant she couldn’t maintain it. In that moment, she seemed old and tired. I felt bad for causing that reaction, but I had only asked one question, and she had sidestepped it completely. I smiled and raised an eyebrow at her, letting her know I wasn’t angry, but I still wanted an answer.
Her energy seemed to return as she smiled back, almost shyly, like she was acknowledging my indulgence and grateful for it. “Truthfully, I’ve been all over,” she said, with a trace of her earlier weariness. “Ireland, for quite some time. Before that India. Thailand. But in between, all over. More places than I can remember.”
“Why did you go away? When I was little. Why did you abandon the family? What was that all about?”
She paused for a moment, maybe deciding whether or not she was going to answer. Then she gestured toward a table and two chairs set up on the beach. “It was the toughest decision I’ve ever made,” she said as she walked toward them. I fell into step beside her. “I went away to protect you. All of you. There were…people after me. People who wanted to stop me, to hurt me. I had to disappear, had to cut all ties, or else they might come after my family, too. Which is you.”
“Why were they after you? Who?”
She took a deep breath, thinking again. “When I came up with the technology for splicing, I—”