kids, loud music, the merry-go-round. Go ahead and yell—no one will notice.” I took out my phone and checked the time. “We have another good twelve minutes before people wonder why you haven’t come out of the fun house.” I didn’t totally believe this, but it sounded like it could be true, although it was equally possible that some of those footsteps were people running around frantically looking for Meredith. Also, while I had my phone out, I noticed it was close to the time we should check in with Dad. I dropped him a text and showed Josie, so she would know I did it.
Josie nodded about the text, then said, “She’s right. There’s a lot to see and do in the fun house, so we have time.”
“Look,” I said. “We didn’t mean to scare you; we just really needed to get you alone, because this is way important. Life or death.”
“Well, there are probably better ways to do that other than kidnapping,” she said. “Because now you’re gonna be in, like, insanely big trouble.”
“Kidnapping?” Josie asked, incredulous. “That isn’t what this is.”
I thought about the last few minutes. “Maybe that’s what it feels like, but it’s not like that at all. You aren’t in any danger.”
“Just being held against my will,” Meredith said sarcastically.
“You know, you’re really being extra right now,” I said.
Josie added, “And no one is holding anyone. You can leave anytime you want.”
“Fine. Then I want to leave right now.”
“Sure,” I said, stepping into her path. “As soon as you listen to this.”
“See, that’s against my will.”
Josie said, “If you’ll just listen, this will only take a quick wink.”
Meredith crossed her arms in front of her chest and tapped her foot like she didn’t have time for this. We hadn’t considered that Meredith would be such a jerk. “Well, go on. I’m a celebrity with a very busy schedule.”
“Here’s the deal—” I started.
“No,” she interrupted me. “You tell me,” she said to Josie. “I don’t like you,” she said to me. And the feeling was mutual.
Josie looked at me. “It’s okay. I got this.” She went through the situation: The Smoothie Factory was making their amazing shakes using wattle berries from Australia, where farming the berries was banned because they’re harmful to the ecosystem. Some guy was bringing berries to Whalehead on a boat called the Koala. When the Smoothie Factory processed the berries in its basement, it created an organic by-product that drained into the ocean.
“Two things happen when this chemical hits the water. It eats away at the pylons, which is damaging the stability of the pier, making it totally dangerous for people to be on it.”
“And the second thing?” Meredith asked impatiently.
“The lovely medusa jellies ingest it, and their delicate digestive systems can’t handle it, and they die.” Josie added, “The medusas here in Whalehead are dying.”
Meredith didn’t say anything right away. I think she was contemplating how she should react:
Mean: Oh, cry me a river.
Sympathetic: That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.
What Meredith said was, “This is all very unbelievable, you know?”
“We have proof,” Josie said.
Meredith noodled over this. “I can see why you’re so worried, but what do you want me to do about it? I mean, what does any of this have to do with me?”
“No one will listen to us,” I said.
Josie added, “But they’ll listen to you.”
“Fine. I’ll tell the authorities, and you’ll just let me go?”
“We aren’t keeping you here; you can walk away anytime you want. Right there.” I pointed to the sand path between the two buildings, which lead to Thirty-Fourth Street. She went to walk in that direction, and I stepped in front of her again. “You’ll cancel the concert?”
“No one said anything about canceling the concert. I can’t cancel a concert! Do you know all the hype that this concert is getting?”
Josie said, “But the pier could collapse, and all those people, including you, will fall into the ocean! Think about your bandmates—Evan, Austin, and Lucien.”
“Collapse?” Meredith asked Josie.
Josie nodded. “Look, you can leave. Stella, move out of her way. But we really hope you’ll help us.”
Josie did a great job pushing all the hot buttons—dead fish, dead fans, dead bandmates. I expected the next thing Meredith was going to do was agree to help.
The plan had worked perfectly.
* * *
But then, like all perfect things, something changed.
Fifty-Two Stella
Under the Boardwalk
June 25 (Continued)
Someone else jumped down!
All the years that we’d been slipping through the trapdoor from the fun house, this had never