Redโs mind did that thing again, a word so simple and mundane, yet it lost all its meaning on the trip across her head, unrecognizable out the other side, warped and misshapen. How did you even say it again? What did it mean? Did it rhyme withย note,ย andย wrote,ย andย quote? All silly little words, when you thought about them, because thinking about them was easier than thinking about what this vote meant.
โNo.โ Arthur shook his head, teeth bared in horror. โWeโre not doing that.
Weโre not voting on whether Red gets to live or die. Are you sick?โ
โItโs the fairest way,โ Oliver brushed him o๏ฌ. โThatโs how democracy works, how law and justice work. We each get a vote and the majority wins. Thatโs fair.โ
Was that fair? Maybe Redโs understanding of it was skewed, because it didnโt seem fair at all, her life in the hands of ๏ฌve other people. But when had life ever been fair to her, why should death be any di๏ฌerent?
โWe canโt do this,โ Reyna said quietly, hands disappearing up her sleeves. โThis canโt be real. We canโt do this.โ
โDoes Red stay, or does she go?โ Oliver reiterated, setting the rules, the boundaries, the two sides. Stay or go, but really he should have phrased it as
Does Red stay, or does she die?ย because that was what they were deciding here, wasnโt it? If she left the RV, that red dot was going to ๏ฌnd her and she was going to die. That man outside with the ri๏ฌe was here to kill her, kill her to stop her from testifying. The plan wasnโt worth all this after all, was it?
โAnd youโll listen?โ Reyna asked Oliver, her eyes sharpening as they met his. โYouโll respect the results of the vote? Thatโs the only way itโs fair.โ
โObviously,โ Oliver spat, scrunching his face. โThatโs the reason weโre voting, Reyna.โ He said her name di๏ฌerently now, cold, doubtful, like it was only half remembered.
โDoes Red get a vote?โ Maddy asked, her voice thick as she held back tears. Red knew that voice, knew all of Maddyโs voices, but still not that strange look in her eyes from before.
โOf course Red doesnโt get a vote.โ He shook his head, like that would be ridiculous.
โIโm not doing this.โ Arthur folded his arms, gaze hard and disbelieving as he shot it at the back of Oliverโs head. โIโm not.โ
โThen you forfeit your vote,โ Oliver said without looking back at him. โMaddy.โ He snapped his ๏ฌngers in her direction. โDo you have any more pens?โ
โUm, yeah, I do,โ she said, wiping her nose as she forced her feet back toward the dining table and the booth. Her purse was tucked just underneath the table, where sheโd been sitting when she and Red played Twenty Questions a hundred lifetimes ago. Maddy bent down and rustled inside. She came back up with four ballpoint pens clenched in her hand. She dropped them down, plastic scattering over plastic, beside the pen already on the table. โFive,โ she said, the word hollow in her mouth.
โGood, well done, Maddy,โ he said, sti๏ฌing a yawn with his ๏ฌst. โThis is crazy,โ Simon was saying to himself. โThis is crazy.โ
Red hugged the walkie-talkie to her chest, the vibrations of the static working against her hummingbird heart as Oliver approached.
โRed, you go stand in the kitchen,โ he said, giving her a push on the shoulder. โYou canโt see anyoneโs papers while theyโre voting.โ
Of course not, that wouldnโt beย fair,ย would it? But she did, she moved, her legs following Oliverโs instruction before her mind had fully agreed to it.
She passed Simon and Reyna on the way to the kitchen counter, gliding past their downcast eyes. She already felt separate, somehow, her against them, even though it was Oliver splitting the RV up, no one else. She passed Arthur and he didnโt avoid her, he returned the frightened look in her eyes.
Her back to the group, Red placed the walkie-talkie down on the counter, its ridges and edges imprinted in her right hand forever, lines and grooves alongside the ones already there. Should she keep going, all the way into the back bedroom to scream into the pillow again? She wasnโt sure she could, anyway, this was beyond screaming. This wasnโt real.
She spun on her heels slowly, closing her eyes so she could pretend she was anywhere but here. Anywhere was better than this RV. Even at the funeral, Catherine Lavoyโs hard grip on her shoulder, bones shattering under the volley of ri๏ฌe ๏ฌre, the sad, high notes of the bagpipes. Or under her comforter, all the way under, pajamas, sweater, and a coat, gloves and three pairs of socks, and still somehow cold. Her cheeks werenโt, though, because she was crying, cursing her mom for leaving them and letting the world fall apart without her. Cursing herself because, actually, Mom wouldnโt be dead without her. It was Redโs fault. She broke the world, she took her mom out of it, and didnโt know how to put it all back after. What would Mom say to her now? Mom used to ๏ฌx everything; found Redโs keys when she lost them, pulled those silly faces in the mirror to make her snort on a bad morning. Red could almost hear her voice now, the way she leaned into the wordย sweetie,ย warm and bright, but she pushed it away under the static of all those bad memories. Everything came back to Mom somehow, but Red couldnโt drag her into this, she didnโt belong. Mom was dead. And now the others were going to decide if Red would die too.
Something touched her ๏ฌoating hand, in the darkness of the backs of her
eyelids, the yellow glow of the overhead lights ๏ฌghting through. Skin, ๏ฌngers, intertwining through hers. Red opened her eyes, blinking in the new light, and there was Arthur. Not Mom.
Arthurโs hand gripped around hers, scribbled checkboxes on his skin to match the ones on hers. Checked and unchecked. Things left undone and unsaid. She was never going to get around to calling AT&T, was she?
โOkay,โ Oliver said, ripping a fresh sheet of paper free from the pad on the table. He folded it in half, then into quarters, then eighths, pressing his nail along the folds. He opened the page back out and started tearing the paper along the guided lines. An awful sound. โWe each get a piece of paper and a pen,โ he said, concentrating on ripping the pieces. โIf you vote for Red to leave the RV, you writeย YESย on your paper, okay?โ He glanced up to check everyone was listening, eyes stalling as they fell on Redโs and Arthurโs hands, still holding on. He cleared his throat. โAnd if you vote for Red to stay in the RV, writeย NOย on your paper. Does everyone understand?โ
No one answered.
โYESย to leave,ย NOย to stay.โย NOย to live,ย YESย to die.
Oliver scooped up ๏ฌve of the small rectangles of lined paper in one hand, the pens in the other. He o๏ฌered them ๏ฌrst to Maddy. She took them, paper ๏ฌuttering in her grip. Her legs were shaking too, Red noticed, as Maddy slid herself down into the booth.
Oliver handed a pen and paper to Simon next, pointing him toward the front of the RV, in the cockpit.
โWe need to stand away from each other, so no one can see how youโre voting. By the door, Reyna,โ Oliver said, dropping the pen and paper above her hand, making sure his skin didnโt touch hers. They both fell to the ๏ฌoor, the pen with a small clatter, the paper ๏ฌoating featherlight through the air. Reyna grabbed them both and straightened up.
โArthur?โ Oliver said, holding out Arthurโs blank piece of paper and his pen. โAre you voting or not?โ
Another glance down at their entwined hands.
There was a twitch in Arthurโs cheek, his eyes spinning around the RV, pausing on each person. Was he trying to work out the way everyone would vote, counting them up, theย fors and theย againsts? Whether his vote was needed?
His hand disentangled from Redโs, wet with both their sweat, and he reached out, removing the pen and paper from Oliverโs palm.
โOver there.โ Oliver pointed Arthur toward the sofa bed.
Arthur walked away, dropping down heavily onto the sofa, staring down at the tiny, blank rectangle of paper.
โExcuse me, Red,โ Oliver said, pushing her out of his way as he bent to open the second drawer down under the counter. He pulled out a cereal bowl, swirling blue-and-white patterns, and pushed the drawer shut with his knee.
โOkay.โ He took the bowl with him to the dining table, slotting in opposite his sister. His pen and paper were ready in his hand. โEveryone know what theyโre doing?โ he called, too loud, the others ๏ฌinching. โYESย to leave,ย NOย to stay.โ
And did Red imagine it, or had he said that ๏ฌrst part louder, stumbling over the second? She knew which way Oliver was voting anyway, they all did. He was voting for her to die.
โOnce youโre done, fold your piece of paper up twice and then come drop it in this bowl here,โ he said, giving it a shake, the rim thumping on the wood of the table. โOkay. Vote now.โ
Maddy uncapped her pen, the sound hollow and high, riding up Redโs spine as she watched.
Next her eyes darted to Reyna, who was writing something, leaning against her raised leg. Red couldnโt tell by the movement of the pen if it was two letters or three.
Arthur was already ๏ฌnished, placing the pen down beside him, carefully folding the paper, pressing down with his thumbs, that muscle twitching in his cheek again.
Simonโs pen was in his mouth, eyes up on the ceiling, his piece of paper ready for him against the top of the driverโs seat.
Maddyโs hand was cupped around her piece of paper as she scribbled something on it, pen ๏ฌicking back and forth in her grip, tracing the lines of her chosen word.
Red couldnโt stand it, the scratching of the pens. She bit down on her bottom lip to stop it from shaking, her eyes darting around too fast that they
started to water.
Simon was writing now, and then it was over in less than two seconds, pocketing the pen to fold up his vote.
Red realized she hadnโt been the only one watching, studying the others. Oliver had been too, only now turning to his own vote. He leaned over it and pressed the pen down, moving it up and across in jagged lines. Then he laid his pen down neatly on the surface, straightening it so it ran parallel with the side of the table. He folded his vote, once, twice.
โIn the bowl, everyone,โ he said, dropping his own in.
Maddy leaned across the table, placing her vote in next. She didnโt retake her seat, standing instead, pacing to the front of the RV, where she brushed past Simon.
Simon sidestepped over, just as Arthur pushed up from the sofa with a fake-leather creak. They dropped their votes in together, at the same time, the small pu๏ฌ of the paper landing.
Reyna was last, walking across from the door, eyes straight ahead. She reached over and let go. It fell, not featherlight this time, into the bowl.
She stepped away, the sofa catching her in the back of her legs, pulling her down.
Simon and Arthur were in that middle space between the kitchen and the front door, Red still behind the counter, separate from everyone else. Maddy up front.
Oliver stood up, a bone cracking somewhere beneath his skin. He sidled out of the booth, coming to stand in front of the table. He reached back to slide the bowl over, dragging it against the wood and against Redโs ears. Too loud, every sound was too loud and every breath was too hard, her ribs folding in, one by one.
This was it.
Did she live or did she die?
They couldnโt have voted for her to die, could they? These were her friends. Simon, who could always make her laugh, even on this awful, endless night. Maddy, her Maddy. Arthur, not hers, but maybe he could have been. Reyna, and that understanding they had between them, the knowing glances.
Oliver picked up the bowl and gave it a shake, the pieces of paper sliding over each other, whispering and shushing. What did they know that Red didnโt? Oliver placed the bowl back down and nodded. At least he was kind enough to not be smiling.
His hand moved into the bowl, shu๏ฌing through the papers. He pulled out the ๏ฌrst vote, plucked between his ๏ฌnger and thumb.
He unraveled the double fold, eyes skipping across the word written there. โNo,โ he read aloud.
No. Redโs heart leaped to her throat. No. One vote for her to live. Her hands were shaking, but she needed them, sticking out the thumb of her right hand to keep the tally. One vote to live.
Oliver was digging through for the next vote, pulling it out. His lips tensed.
โYes,โ he read.
Redโs heart sank again, dropping into the acid of her stomach, where it ๏ฌzzed and ๏ฌzzed, like a two-way radio. Yes. One vote for her to die. But sheโd known that was coming. She knew Oliver was voting yes, she didnโt need to be scared. But her heart didnโt listen, drowning down there. Red stuck out the thumb on her left hand to match. One vote each.
Oliver picked up the next folded bit of paper, pulling it apart.
โNo,โ he said, dropping the opened vote on the table, beside the others.
No. Thank you, thank you. Red stuck out the index ๏ฌnger on her right hand. Another vote for her to live. Two against one. Theyโd already had Oliverโs vote, wouldnโt the rest beย NOs, ๏ฌlling up her right hand?
Redโs eyes dried out, scratchy and raw, staring too hard at Oliverโs hands, ๏ฌngers dipping into the bowl for the fourth vote. He pulled it out and unfolded it.
He breathed in, held on to it just too long. โYes,โ he said.
No, no, no.
Redโs throat constricted, cutting her breath in half. That wasnโt supposed to happen. Another vote for her to die. This wasnโt just fear anymore, was it? This was what terror felt like, her body reshaping around it. But who? Who
else voted yes? Her eyes snapped wider, panicked, skipping from Maddy to Arthur to Reyna to Simon. Which one of them was it? Which one wanted to force her out of the RV, out into the wide-open nothing? Which one of them was okay with her dying out there? They all looked shocked, afraid, wretched. Red couldnโt tell. But someone wasnโt shocked, that vote belonged to someone.
She raised another ๏ฌnger on her left hand. Two votes each. To live or to die.
โLast vote,โ Oliver said, scraping the ๏ฌnal piece of paper out of the bowl. The deciding vote. Live or die.
He twisted it between his ๏ฌngers, taking too long. Unpicking the ๏ฌrst fold, then the second.
Oliver spun the piece of paper around. He cleared his throat.
