The She by Carol Plum-Ucci Page A

details to him and just get to the punch. Maybe he was just vulnerable enough to listen to me on this one.
    "It was a wave, Emmett. A monstrous, fucking wave. The biggest wave I've ever seen."
    I could feel him tighten, but his voice still sounded diplomatic. "So, in other words, he did that second sight ...
thing
on you. That
thing
with his hands that I used to hear about."
    "Yeah."
    "And it was a wave."
    "Yeah. I know that sounds completely crazy. I only believe it because—" and I went through the whole thing about touching the map. He never moved, never tried to interrupt, never did anything but blink.
    After I finished and a bit of silence followed, he said, "I wish you had come walking on the beach with me."
    "It's freezing."
    "I know, but I wanted to talk to you away from Opa. He's taking a nap now, I think. It's safe. There have been some things I've wanted to share with you—I was ready to last year. I thought you were old enough and enough time had passed. But that incident with the LSD made me put it off longer: Now? I find out you've been throwing yourself at the mercy of subhumans like Church, and you're sending your sick friends to him. You're my brother: I love you. I want to convince you to stop it."
    He sat up, and I figured he had fooled me into telling him about the wave and the map. He could do that to me sometimes, lure me into saying something he could take apart, just by not showing me his eyes and keeping his voice even. He's one of the few people in the world who could get away with it.
    He went behind the bar; and I could see the white-and-red bag. Only now that it was up close, I could see the bag was worn, like it had been around for a lot of years. He had a loose-leaf notebook full of papers, which he held up to me, not looking at all happy.
    "Edwin Church has some weird little power;" he said softly, but I knew just from knowing everything about Emmett that he was being sarcastic. "He can make you remember things more clearly. On a good day, he can even make you see the future. He's touched by God. He sold his soul to the devil. He did both! It's a highly opinionated world out there, Evan. And you have to be careful, because these days,
everybody's right,
and if you don't believe me,
ask them.
"
    I didn't know what was in the binder or what exactly he was rambling on about, but I hated it when he got this condescending tone. "Uh, you're holding that damn thing up like a TV evangelist toting a Bible. Maybe you should come down off your high horse and say whatever it is you have to say."
    He lowered it and apologized. "Everybody's right. There's no way to find truth in this world, except for one. And here it is."
    He held the thing up again. Couldn't seem to help himself. "
Evidence.
"
    He sat back down on the couch and opened the black book as I crawled warily up and plopped down beside him. My heart turned hot and started banging, though he was being vague enough that I couldn't have said why at the moment.
    "I don't think Opa told you the story about the Riley boat to make pleasant chatter. I think he was laying a big hint on me, telling me it's time I opened the floodgates of debate. He's right."
    He turned the first page, and a hefty legal document stared back at me. I looked where his finger pointed and saw the name of my parents' boat, the
Goliath.
Then my eyes bounced up to big bold letters at die top: SEARCH WARRANT.

SEVEN
    "Oh, shit," I breathed, over and over, following his finger down this page, seeing these all-too-real names and facts: "Name of Vessel: GOLIATH. Location of Port: THE BASIN, ATLANTIC CITY. Owner/Operator: WADE BARRETT, MARY ELLEN STARN. Date: NOVEMBER 10," and the year, signed by a judge, and by two men who had the word "Agent" after their signatures and "DRUG ENFORCEMENT ADMINISTRATION" beneath. The blue ink where the DEA agents had signed was now fading, but I ran my finger over it, hoping it might just disappear.
    I didn't know what exactly this had to do with my