Bjorn is lying on the foredeck, a paperback copy of Ovids Metamorphoses put to use as his pillow. Penelope notices that the railing near his feet is rusting. The boat was a present from his father for his twentieth birthday, but Bjorn hasnt had the money to keep it up. It was the only gift his father ever gave him, except one time when his father paid for a trip. When Bjorns father turned fifty, he invited Bjorn and Penelope to one of his finest properties, a five-star hotel called Kamaya Resort on the east coast of Kenya. Penelope endured the resort for two days before she took off to join Action Contre la Faim at the refugee camp in Kubbum, Darfur.
Penelope reduces speed from eight to five knots as they reach the bridge at Skuru Sound. Theyve just glided into the shadows when Penelope notices the black rubber boat. Pressed against the concrete foundation, its the same kind the military uses for their coastal rangers: an RIB with a fiberglass hull and extremely powerful engines. Penelope has almost passed beneath the bridge when she notices a man hunched in the darkness, his back turned. She doesnt know why her pulse starts to race at the sight of him; something about his neck and the black clothes he wears bothers her. She feels hes watching her even though he sits turned away.
Back into sunshine, she starts to shiver; goose bumps cover her arms. She guns the boat to fifteen knots. The two inboard engines drone powerfully, and the wake streams white behind them as the boat takes off over the smooth surface of the water.
Penelopes phone rings. Its her mother. For a moment Penelope fantasizes that shes calling to tell Penelope how wonderful shed been on TV earlier, but she snaps back to reality.
Hi, Mamma.
Ay, ay.
Whats wrong?
My back. Ill have to go to the chiropractor, Claudia says, loudly filling a glass with tap water. I just wanted to learn if youve talked to your sister.
Shes on the boat with us, Penelope replies, listening to her mother gulp the water down.
Shes with you how nice. I thought it would be good for her to get out.
Im sure it is, Penelope says quietly.
What do you have to eat?
Pickled herring and potatoes, eggs-
Viola doesnt like herring. What else do you have?
Ive made a few meatballs, Penelope says patiently.
Enough for everyone?
Penelope falls silent as she looks out over the water. I can always skip them myself, she says, collecting herself.
Only if there arent enough, her mother says. Thats all Im trying to say.
I understand.
Am I supposed to be feeling sorry for you now? her mother demands with irritation.
Its just that Viola is not a child-
I remember all the years I made you meatballs for Christmas and Midsummer and-
Maybe I shouldnt have eaten them.
All right then, her mother says sharply. If thats the way you want it.
Im just trying to say-
You dont have to come for Midsummer, Claudia snaps.
Oh, Mamma, why do you have to-
Her mother has hung up. Penelope shakes with frustration.
The stairs from the galley creak and a moment later Viola appears, a margarita in hand. Was that Mamma?
Yes, it was.
Worried I wouldnt get enough to eat? Viola cant hide a smile.
Believe me, we have food on board, Penelope says.
Mamma doesnt believe I can take care of myself.
She worries about you.
She never worries about you, Viola points out.
I can take care of myself.
Viola takes a sip of her drink and looks out through the windshield.
I saw you on TV, she says.
This morning? When I met Pontus Salman?
No, it was last week, Viola replies. You were talking to that arrogant man with the aristocratic name-
No, it was last week, Viola replies. You were talking to that arrogant man with the aristocratic name-
Palmcrona, Penelope says.
Palmcrona, right.
You cant believe how angry he made me! I could feel my face turning beet red, and the tears strated coming and I couldnt stop them. I felt like jumping up and reciting Bob Dylans Masters of War to his face, or like running out and slamming the studio door behind me.
Violas only half listening. She watches Penelope stretch as she opens the roof window. I didnt realize youve started to shave your armpits, she says.
Well, these days Ive been in the media so much that-
Vanity, pure vanity! Viola says with a laugh.
I didnt want people to dismiss me as a dogmatist just because I have some pit hair.
What about your bikini line, then?
Well, thats not going so well
Penelope pulls aside her sarong and Viola laughs out loud.
Bjorn likes it, Penelope says with a little smile.
He cant talk, not with those dreads of his.
I imagine you shave everywhere you have to, Penelope says sharply. Just to please your married men and your big-muscled idiots and-
I know I have bad taste in men.
You have good taste in most other areas.
Ive never amounted to much, though.
If youd just finished school, gotten good grades
Viola shrugs. I actually got my equivalency.
The boat plows gently through the water, green now, reflecting the surrounding hillsides. Seagulls follow overhead.
So, how did it go?
I thought the exam was easy, Viola says, licking salt from the edge of her glass.