Chapters (46)
- Cover
- Other Titles
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Friday
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- Saturday
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- Sunday
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- Monday
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- EPILOGUE
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Anastasia replays the video. At first, as the barrel is floating down the river, London’s grandmother is facing the other direction, and so all you can see is the blob of white that is the back of her head. But then, like some kind of miracle, God sent His angels down from heaven above to flap their ethereal wings and gently turn the barrel on the current so her face comes into view just moments before she plunges over the precipice. Anastasia pauses the video a split second before the drop, and then scrolls through it frame by frame, looking for some evidence, some tiny, minuscule trace of fear. But London’s grandmother’s expression is as blank as the slate cliffs around her. It’s absolutely fucking outstanding.
Anastasia has watched the video at least two hundred times since she found out that the woman in the barrel was, in fact, London’s grandmother. London’s ever-loving batshit-crazy fucking grandmother. Anastasia has done everything she can to ensure that everyone in their high school also knows who the woman in the barrel is. It’s not the kind of thing that anyone could legitimately expect her to keep to herself, that would just be ludicrous. Not to mention, it would be un-civic-minded. Her father has always taught her that her first duty is to her community because she is a natural-born leader and people are going to continually look to her for guidance, whether she wants them to or not. It is a heavy burden to carry, but when you are born with a gift, that is the price you have to pay. She owed it to people to let them know what had happened to one of their classmate’s family. A tragedy of this magnitude needed to be openly shared with others so they could come together and heal as a community.
“Holy shit. That was a lady in a motherfucking barrel.” Anastasia giggles. She can’t help it, it gets her every time.
When she finally gets bored of the video, she opens a folder called AP and scrolls through the files, which are all saved IM histories, looking for the most recent one.
PONYO: You promise you won’t tell anyone?
SHARKBOY: Of course not.
SHARKBOY: Besides, who would I tell?
PONYO: Did you watch the video?
PONYO: Adam? Did you watch it?
PONYO: Adam, are you still there?
PONYO: Adam?
PONYO:…