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Authors: Neal Shusterman
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it was nothing like my own. Clearly, she had a life harder than I could probably even imagineâbecause how desperate do you have to be to stow away aboard a cruise ship?
At first I couldnât bring myself to break in on Bernie and Lulu, but I didnât have to. Tilde found me that afternoon in the arcade. She didnât say a thing, just caught my eye, and I followed her.
I went with her from cabin to cabin, deck to deck, and I stood lookout as she went in with her passkey and a special security key that opened room safes.
In my whole life I have never stolen money, unless you count that time the vending machine at school broke and started dumping quarters in the coin return like a slot machine. (I was there; it happened; I took advantage of a good situation, so sue me.) But agreeing to be Tildeâs partner in crime, that was a whole new level of criminal activity.
At first, I was really paranoid about it, until I realized I was now in everybody elseâs nasty vat, and they didnât want to taste it. People are always told to âreport suspicious activity.â Well, between you and me, it only works in airports. Everybody gets reported in airports. The guy picking his nose will get reported, because what if the nose pick was signaling a guy with a shoe bomb that the coast was clear to blow himself up? But everywhere else? Forget it. If youâre not at an airport, suspicious activity becomes someone elseâs problem.
Tilde and I managed to hit dozens of rooms that afternoon. Just like she promised, she never took more than five bucks from any one wallet, so no one noticed, or if they did, they probably figured their kids took it to use at one of the various money-sucking locations on the ship.
I made lots of excuses so that Iâd feel okay with being a part of this.
Rationalization #1: Tilde was like Robin Hood, stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, which I guess made me Friar Tuck. And since a friar is like a priest with a bad haircut, my mother would approve, right?
Rationalization #2: I didnât actually take the money, I just stood outside. I was what you might call a âfacilitator,â which sounds so much better than âaccomplice.â
Rationalization #3: I could be a positive influence on Tilde and eventually convince her to stop stealing. But this was stretching it, because the idea of me as a positive influence on anybody was higher fantasy than Lord of the Rings.
Did I feel guilty?
Yes.
Did I know that it was probably the second-worst thing Iâve ever done?
Yes.
Am I gonna tell you what the worst thing is?
In your dreams.
But hereâs the really scary part: Weeks later, after it was all over, and the media blew everything out of proportionâafter all the crazy stuff that this day led to, would I take it back?
No, I wouldnât.
Which means that I committed a crime and Iâm not repentant. According to Sister Mary Marlena, who taught catechism until I drove her into early retirement, non-repentant sinners get a first-class ticket to hell, where the nuts are more than warm and there ainât no upgrades.
As to whether I believe that, well, I guess it all depends on whether or not the road to hell is really paved with good intentions. But Iâm hoping for the more logical possibility that itâs paved with the same asphalt they use in my neighborhoodâbecause those potholes come from a darker dominion than Brooklyn.
CHAPTER 5
A ROGUE WAVE OF RESTLESS LOBSTERS AND THE BUOYANCY OF MY BOAT
âWHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL DAY?â MY MOTHER asked as we all got dressed for dinner. I couldnât look her in the face because my mother reads faces likes itâs an ingredient list on a food package, and if she sees something unnatural, sheâs not gonna buy it. And today, my whole face is unnatural.
But she didnât look at me. She was too busy worrying if her dress fit because it was formal night and we all had to
At first I couldnât bring myself to break in on Bernie and Lulu, but I didnât have to. Tilde found me that afternoon in the arcade. She didnât say a thing, just caught my eye, and I followed her.
I went with her from cabin to cabin, deck to deck, and I stood lookout as she went in with her passkey and a special security key that opened room safes.
In my whole life I have never stolen money, unless you count that time the vending machine at school broke and started dumping quarters in the coin return like a slot machine. (I was there; it happened; I took advantage of a good situation, so sue me.) But agreeing to be Tildeâs partner in crime, that was a whole new level of criminal activity.
At first, I was really paranoid about it, until I realized I was now in everybody elseâs nasty vat, and they didnât want to taste it. People are always told to âreport suspicious activity.â Well, between you and me, it only works in airports. Everybody gets reported in airports. The guy picking his nose will get reported, because what if the nose pick was signaling a guy with a shoe bomb that the coast was clear to blow himself up? But everywhere else? Forget it. If youâre not at an airport, suspicious activity becomes someone elseâs problem.
Tilde and I managed to hit dozens of rooms that afternoon. Just like she promised, she never took more than five bucks from any one wallet, so no one noticed, or if they did, they probably figured their kids took it to use at one of the various money-sucking locations on the ship.
I made lots of excuses so that Iâd feel okay with being a part of this.
Rationalization #1: Tilde was like Robin Hood, stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, which I guess made me Friar Tuck. And since a friar is like a priest with a bad haircut, my mother would approve, right?
Rationalization #2: I didnât actually take the money, I just stood outside. I was what you might call a âfacilitator,â which sounds so much better than âaccomplice.â
Rationalization #3: I could be a positive influence on Tilde and eventually convince her to stop stealing. But this was stretching it, because the idea of me as a positive influence on anybody was higher fantasy than Lord of the Rings.
Did I feel guilty?
Yes.
Did I know that it was probably the second-worst thing Iâve ever done?
Yes.
Am I gonna tell you what the worst thing is?
In your dreams.
But hereâs the really scary part: Weeks later, after it was all over, and the media blew everything out of proportionâafter all the crazy stuff that this day led to, would I take it back?
No, I wouldnât.
Which means that I committed a crime and Iâm not repentant. According to Sister Mary Marlena, who taught catechism until I drove her into early retirement, non-repentant sinners get a first-class ticket to hell, where the nuts are more than warm and there ainât no upgrades.
As to whether I believe that, well, I guess it all depends on whether or not the road to hell is really paved with good intentions. But Iâm hoping for the more logical possibility that itâs paved with the same asphalt they use in my neighborhoodâbecause those potholes come from a darker dominion than Brooklyn.
CHAPTER 5
A ROGUE WAVE OF RESTLESS LOBSTERS AND THE BUOYANCY OF MY BOAT
âWHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL DAY?â MY MOTHER asked as we all got dressed for dinner. I couldnât look her in the face because my mother reads faces likes itâs an ingredient list on a food package, and if she sees something unnatural, sheâs not gonna buy it. And today, my whole face is unnatural.
But she didnât look at me. She was too busy worrying if her dress fit because it was formal night and we all had to
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