Chapter 5: One Question

On Monday I ate lunch in the dining hall, at a table in the middle of the room, alone.

It was the loudest place on campus and I wanted it loud.

By the time I finished my soup, every table near me had gone quiet.

Mamie came in at twelve-fifteen with Tripp and six of their friends.

She was in her white coat, with her chin up and her eyes pink.

The whole room parted for her.

Tripp had his hand at the small of her back.

I stood up and carried my tray across the floor.

I set it on the end of the long table where they were sitting down.

"Mamie," I said. "I have one question about your book."

Mamie laughed a little, shaky and kind.

"Mar, this isn't the place."

"It's the only place anyone will listen," I said. "It's one question. If it's your book, you'll know it."

A boy at the next table put his fork down.

Near the door, a girl lifted a camera.

She was the editor of the campus paper, and she had been at the reading.

"Go ahead," said Tripp. "She'll answer. She's been through enough."

"In chapter five," I said, looking at Mamie, "Nell burns the logbook. What is written in it?"

Mamie blinked.

"It's," she said. "I don't, it's a long book."

"You read that chapter aloud to four hundred people."

"I know which one it is."

"Then you know what's written in it."

"It's a letter," Mamie said. "A love letter. From Abel to her mother."

Nobody in the room moved.

"It's a tide table," I said. "For the night Nell's mother walked into the lake."

"Abel copied it in her mother's hand, because he couldn't bear to write the word."

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