Billy sat on my bed and rubbed my back. It was only a small earthquake, he said. He tried to turn on the lights but the power had died. He started to leave the room. I shouted for him to stay. I’ll be right back. I just need to find a flashlight.
I begged him not to go, and he abandoned the hunt for a flashlight, lying beside me on my narrow twin bed. Each time I drifted to sleep, I felt him slip out of bed, and I pleaded for him to stay. Eventually, he stopped trying to leave and fell asleep beside me.
In the morning, sunlight filled the room and Billy was gone. I searched for evidence of the earthquake. Billy was right. It was a small one. Nothing had been jolted so hard that it had moved or broken.
A sugary scent led me to the kitchen where Billy was pouring batter into a pan while Mom flipped pancakes.
Come on, Billy said to Mom, that looks exactly like a bird.
I’m just saying, don’t quit your day job, Mom teased.
What, you think you can do better?
This isn’t a challenge you want to take.
Bring it, sis.
Mom poured batter into the pan, and Billy laughed when he saw her creation.
What are you guys doing? I asked, and they turned in unison, smiling.
Making our favorite girl breakfast, Billy said as he lifted me into the air and carried me to the table.
My brave girl. Your first earthquake. Mom kissed the top of my head and put a plate of pancakes in front of me, the words I Win written in batter.
Later that day, Billy knocked on my bedroom door with a riddle.
I’m a type of lot and also a type of amusement. I’m national and in every neighborhood, he read as he uncoiled a sheet of paper.
What? I asked too quickly.
I bet you know, if you think really hard.
Along the drive I tried to get him to tell me the answer.
Where’d we go for your birthday? Billy finally said, watching me in the rearview mirror.
Disneyland.
And what is Disneyland? An amusement... It begins with a P. No guess? Parrr—
Park, I shouted.
Billy pulled into the lot at the base of Malibu Bluffs Park where an envelope was fastened to the park’s sign. My name marked its face. There was a riddle inside.
What’s a fruit and also a color?
What? I asked Billy.
Is it a lemon?
No!
How about a grape?
No!
Well, what is it, then?
An orange, I shouted.
A single orange rested on the closest picnic table. Beneath the orange, I found a paring knife and instructions to cut off the rind in large chunks. Billy held my hand as I gripped the knife and together we cut a puzzle into the outside of the orange.
Pretend each of these is a plate. He held an odd-shaped piece of rind. Not the type of plate you eat off, but a tectonic plate that makes up the crust of the earth. This is the mantle. He twirled the peeled orange in his right hand. The lower mantle. It’s made of liquid like this orange. Well, will you look at that—Billy unfurled a piece of paper from the center of the orange. On it, the next clue.
I’m a female deer and also used to make pie. You might like me best in a form that’s playful.
I followed Billy’s eyes to the far end of the picnic area where a container of Play-Doh hid beneath a bench. Together, we lifted the lid to find a list of instructions folded on top of a ball of blue putty.
Step one, roll the Play-Doh into a flat circle.
Step two, wrap it around the orange. The orange became a blue orb.
This is the upper mantle, Billy explained.
Step three, wrap the rind around the Play-Doh. The puzzle pieces of rind fit roughly together around the orange.
Billy inched two pieces of rind toward each other. The plates are in constant motion. They move very, very slowly. We only feel their movement during an earthquake. The pieces collided and blue Play-Doh oozed between the edges of the rind in a rippled formation. When the plates converge like this, they form mountains and volcanoes. He spread the rind apart and the blue beneath stretched. When plates diverge, they create rifts, which on land make lakes and rivers. Billy rubbed two pieces of rind against each other until they would no longer move. The plates’ edges are rough, so sometimes they get stuck. These edges are called fault lines. When they lock up like this, they create a tremendous amount of stress. He kept rubbing them together until one piece slid beneath the other. With too much stress, they’ll slip and that’s one way we get an earthquake.
The fourth and final step instructed us to hike to the highest point we could find. I followed Billy up a steep incline. At the peak, we could see Pepperdine University across the Pacific Coast Highway. I gazed down the barrel of Billy’s finger as he outlined the Pepperdine Block, how over time it had moved upward and west of the land where we stood.
Is this where the earthquake happened? I asked.
Along the same fault line.
So an earthquake could happen right here? I braced myself for the shaking to begin. Billy laughed.
You might feel an aftershock in the next few days. If you do, just remember it won’t be as violent as the earthquake last night. Billy held my shoulders, looking me in the eye. We can’t stop earthquakes from happening, but you don’t have to be afraid. After every earthquake, scientists like me review the damage and we use that to make our buildings and bridges stronger, so there’s less damage in the future.
So we need earthquakes? I asked.
You could think of it that way. We need earthquakes to learn. Understanding prepares us for the future. Remember that. It’s the only way to make us safer.
“I remember all week I was hoping for an aftershock, but I didn’t feel any,” I said to Jay. “That’s how Billy was. He made everything an adventure.”
Jay handed the card back to me. “I don’t get it. Why remind you of that now that he’s dead?” Jay wiped the corners of his mouth and glanced at my barely touched food. He pointed to my eggs, and I nodded, trading my mostly full plate for his empty one.
“It’s another one of his adventures.” I reached into my bag and pulled out the copy of The Tempest, opening to Act 1, Scene 2, where Prospero told Miranda the story of his past. I ran my index finger beneath the highlighted line. Sit down; for thou must now know farther. “This is the only section that’s highlighted.” I explained Prospero’s story to Jay, how his cruel brother, Antonio, had betrayed him, overtaking Prospero’s kingdom while Prospero was absorbed in his magical studies. With the help of the king, Antonio had banished Prospero and young Miranda to sea.
“You were named after Shakespeare?” Jay asked.
“You didn’t know that?”
“The Tempest isn’t exactly in my wheelhouse.” He flipped through the play like it was a guidebook to me. “So what’s