Leaving Time Read online

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2014 by Jodi Picoult

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of Random House, a division of Random House LLC, a Penguin Random House Company, New York.

  BALLANTINE and the HOUSE colophon are registered trademarks of Random House LLC.

  Grateful acknowledgment is given for permission to reprint “The Elephant” from NATURAL HISTORY by Dan Chiasson, copyright © 2005 by Dan Chiasson. Used by permission of Alfred A. Knopf, an imprint of the Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group, a division of Random House LLC. All rights reserved.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Picoult, Jodi.

  Leaving time : a novel / Jodi Picoult

  pages cm

  ISBN: 978-0-345-54492-6

  eBook ISBN: 978-0-345-54493-3

  1. Teenage girls—Fiction. 2. Mothers and daughters—Fiction.

  3. Missing persons—Fiction I. Title.

  PS3566.I372 L43 2014

  813’.54—dc23 2014023994

  www.ballantinebooks.com

  Jacket design: Gabrielle Bordwin

  Jacket photograph: © David Jordan Williams

  v3.1

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Prologue

  Jenna

  Alice

  Part I

  Chapter 1: Jenna

  Chapter 2: Alice

  Chapter 3: Serenity

  Chapter 4: Alice

  Chapter 5: Jenna

  Chapter 6: Alice

  Chapter 7: Virgil

  Chapter 8: Alice

  Chapter 9: Jenna

  Chapter 10: Alice

  Chapter 11: Serenity

  Chapter 12: Alice

  Chapter 13: Jenna

  Chapter 14: Alice

  Chapter 15: Serenity

  Chapter 16: Alice

  Chapter 17: Jenna

  Part II

  Chapter 18: Alice

  Chapter 19: Virgil

  Chapter 20: Alice

  Chapter 21: Jenna

  Chapter 22: Alice

  Chapter 23: Serenity

  Chapter 24: Alice

  Chapter 25: Virgil

  Chapter 26: Alice

  Chapter 27: Jenna

  Chapter 28: Alice

  Chapter 29: Serenity

  Chapter 30: Alice

  Chapter 31: Jenna

  Chapter 32: Alice

  Chapter 33: Virgil

  Chapter 34: Alice

  Chapter 35: Serenity

  Chapter 36: Alice

  Chapter 37: Jenna

  Chapter 38: Alice

  Chapter 39: Virgil

  Chapter 40: Alice

  Chapter 41: Serenity

  Chapter 42: Alice

  Chapter 43: Jenna

  Author’s Note

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Other Books by This Author

  About the Author

  PROLOGUE

  JENNA

  Some people used to believe that there was an elephant graveyard—a place that sick and old elephants would travel to to die. They’d slip away from their herds and would lumber across the dusty landscape, like the titans we read about in seventh grade in Greek Mythology. Legend said the spot was in Saudi Arabia; that it was the source of a supernatural force; that it contained a book of spells to bring about world peace.

  Explorers who went in search of the graveyard would follow dying elephants for weeks, only to realize they’d been led in circles. Some of these voyagers disappeared completely. Some could not remember what they had seen, and not a single explorer who claimed to have found the graveyard could ever locate it again.

  Here’s why: The elephant graveyard is a myth.

  True, researchers have found groups of elephants that died in the same vicinity, many over a short period of time. My mother, Alice, would have said there’s a perfectly logical reason for a mass burial site: a group of elephants who died all at once due to lack of food or water; a slaughter by ivory hunters. It’s even possible that the strong winds in Africa could blow a scattering of bones into a concentrated pile. Jenna, she would have told me, there’s an explanation for everything you see.

  There is plenty of information about elephants and death that is not fable but instead cold, hard science. My mother would have been able to tell me that, too. We would have sat, shoulder to shoulder, beneath the massive oak where Maura liked to shade herself, watching the elephant pick up acorns with her trunk and pitch them. My mother would rate each toss like an Olympic judge. 8.5 … 7.9. Ooh! A perfect 10.

  Maybe I would have listened. But maybe, too, I would have just closed my eyes. Maybe I would have tried to memorize the smell of bug spray on my mother’s skin, or the way she absentmindedly braided my hair, tying it off on the end with a stalk of green grass.

  Maybe the whole time I would have been wishing there really was an elephant graveyard, except not just for elephants. Because then I’d be able to find her.

  ALICE

  When I was nine—before I grew up and became a scientist—I thought I knew everything, or at least I wanted to know everything, and in my mind there was no difference between the two. At that age, I was obsessed with animals. I knew that a group of tigers was called a streak. I knew that dolphins were carnivores. I knew that giraffes had four stomachs and that the leg muscles of a locust were a thousand times more powerful than the same weight of human muscle. I knew that white polar bears had black skin beneath their fur, and that jellyfish had no brains. I knew all these facts from the Time-Life monthly animal fact cards that I had received as a birthday gift from my pseudo-stepfather, who had moved out a year ago and now lived in San Francisco with his best friend, Frank, who my mother called “the other woman” when she thought I wasn’t listening.

  Every month new cards arrived in the mail, and then one day, in October 1977, the best card of all arrived: the one about elephants. I cannot tell you why they were my favorite animals. Maybe it was my bedroom, with its green shag jungle carpet and the wallpaper border of cartoon pachyderms dancing across the walls. Maybe it was the fact that the first movie I’d ever seen, as a toddler, was Dumbo. Maybe it was because the silk lining inside my mother’s fur coat, the one she had inherited from her own mother, was made from an Indian sari and printed with elephants.

  From that Time-Life card, I learned the basics about elephants. They were the largest land animals on the planet, sometimes weighing more than six tons. They ate three to four hundred pounds of food each day. They had the longest pregnancy of any land mammal—twenty-two months. They lived in breeding herds, led by a female matriarch, often the oldest member of the group. She was the one who decided where the group went every day, when they took a rest, where they ate, and where they drank. Babies were raised and protected by all the female relatives in the herd, and traveled with them, but when males were about thirteen years old, they left—sometimes preferring to wander on their own and sometimes gathering with other males in a bull group.

  But those were facts that everyone knew. I, on the other hand, became obsessed and dug a little deeper, trying to find out everything I could at the school library and from my teachers and books. So I also could tell you that elephants got sunburned, which is why they would toss dirt on their backs and roll in the mud. Their closest living relative was the rock hyrax, a tiny, furry thing that looked like a guinea pig. I knew that just like a human baby sucks its thu