CROSSING THE RAINBOW BRIDGE

By

Patricia A. Stefanovic

A Thesis Submitted to the Faculty of

The Dorothy F. Schmidt College of Arts and Letters in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements of the Degree of

Master of Arts

Florida Atlantic University

Boca Raton. Florida

August 2002 CROSSING THE RAINBOW BRIDGE

By Patricia A. Stefanovic

This thesis was prepared under the direction of the candidate· s thesis advisor. Dr. Johnny Payne. Department of English. and has been approved by the members of her supervisory committee. It was submitted to the faculty of the Dorothy F. Schmidt College of Arts and Letters and was accepted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Master of Arts.

~~Colle~e Dean. The Dorotllv F. Schmidt of Arts and Leuers lUcttww~~ ~ Vice Provost

Date

ii ABSTRACT

Author: Patricia A. Stefanovic

Title: Crossing The Rainbow Bridge

Institution: Aorida Atlantic University

Thesis Advisor: Dr. Johnny Payne

Degree: Master of Arts

Year: 2002

Crossing The Rainbow Bridge is a novel set in 1971. Key West. Aorida. The no\'el is told in two narrative forms. using the viewpoints of the two main characters. The first of which is told through a third person narrative familiar to the novers female protagonist. Sara Bailey. The second viewpoint is that of the protagonist's mother. told in first person narrative in the nover s final chapter. The impetus of the nover s focus begins with the sudden and accidental death of the protagonist's mother. Initially, the mother's character is revealed mainly through retrospective narrative in the form of the protagonist's dreams. As the novel progresses. the narrative relies on the present moment consciousness of the protagonist. That is. following a traditional coming of age story. as the protagonist learns to cope with the death of her mother. the language of the novel relies more heavily on her voice. and less on the third person retrospective narrative to tell the story.

Ill Crossing the Rainbow Bridge

By

Patricia Stefanovic Chapter One

Art and morals are one. Their essence is the same. The essence of both of them is love. Love is the perception of individuals. Love is the extremely difficult realization that something other than oneself is real. Love. and so art and morals. is the discovery of reality. Iris Murdoch

The macaw's scream pierced her dream. waking her. She wanted to go back to sleep. yet she waited for its next call. Her room was hot already.

She had meant to shut the window last night before she had gone to bed. tired of the Perez's staccato stream of shouting in Spanish and broken English. coming in steady intervals from next door and across the yard. the angry words targeting her window as accurately as an assassin's bullet. She had opened her window initially hoping for a breeze. But the season had changed and the current of air to pass through her backyard and into her room was little more than a night's breath of air drawn straight from the Atlantic. a teaser for them. and an impending reminder that May in Key West was only the beginning of the summer.

Black and white photographs of ballerinas posed in positions one through four posted on her wall seemed to mock her lethargy. Right foot forward. left foot out. they commanded. Plie. Up. Down. The ignored creaking of the knees.

And with arms in delicate synergy, leg and toes extended beyond ligament's

.., reason. their bodies exuded an impossible energy. How many rehearsals had her father missed? She had stopped dancing (and counting) the year they moved from Tennessee. She wasn't sure who was more relieved; she. who had grown two inches the summer before. or Miss Irene. the graying instructor. whose broken English barely concealed her annoyance at Sara's tallness. No. Sara. your legs like this. Not the ostrich but the crane. And in the meantime. all this while. she would have rather been riding her Appaloosa. more satisfied with the animal's four legs. than in her own two. Her father. in trying to make it up to her. took her with him the first week they arrived to sleep on the submarine tender they nicknamed "Happy Howie". But it hadn't worked because neither had known that she was claustrophobic. Later. when they arrived home early her mother had asked.

-Did she get sick?

-No. She was afraid. I think. It was too much. Noisy.

But it hadn"t been the noise that had bothered her. The room was small and hot. and the bed. a narrow cot suspended against a steel lined wall. made her feel exposed. The room reeked of the same oil her father used to clean his

Remington. But the cramped room and the tiny bed had made her feel dizzy. and she couldn't stop thinking that if something should happen. a fire. that she would never be able to find her way out of the maze of identical steel lined rooms at the back of the boat. But she couldn't tell him that because he seemed so excited to have her there. eager to explain all the things in the room. When she had begun to

3 cry after he corrected her when she called the bed a cot. he had looked confused.

Honey. It's no big deal. I thought you wanted to come. I did. But I want to go

home. Okay. he said. we'll go then.

-Bring her inside. You aren·t staying?

-No. the tour starts at seven. I have to go back.

Even at that hour she could hear the disappointment in her mother·s voice.

His lips grazed her cheek. the dark morning stubble scratching her. She wanted to

tell him to take her back. that she had changed her mind. But when she turned

around. she heard the front door closing. She slept in her mother·s bed that night

pressed against her back. comforted by the warmth of her mother's shoulder

against her face.

The year they came to Key West Lenny"s was selling ground beef on special for seventy-five cents a pound. and the white-haired ex-president was

landing on a tiny strip of tarmac outside Stock Island. The first year her mother had enrolled her in the all-girls Catholic school. which she knew. she was going to hate it the minute she stepped inside. The Cuban girls called her names they thought she didn "t understand. Flaca. Chica. She was only able to redeem herself to them the day she beat Margarita. a chunky pock-marked girl at tetherball.

After that. they mostly left her alone. but they still made fun of her. saluting her when she walked by. calling her a brat. When she had transferred to the public high school. though. it had taken her awhile to adjust to the transition of friends that passed through her circle at school; an endless round of almost friends made

4 each year. the promising exchange of numbers and favorites. and the sad shock to hear Mrs. Bishop announce once again that so and so· s father had just been transferred back to San Diego; and what a shame it was really. to lose such a fine student. She wondered if all the good students had left. what the teachers thought of the ones remaining. the ones whose fathers (like hers) were stationed long­ term. What would they announce for her if she left? Her seat on the fourth row from the door. fifth seat back. would remain empty. her absence gone unnoticed.

Would she have missed seeing Mr. Murray at the gesturing point of the history lecture. the balding flat of his head in perpetual motion. moving and diagramming across the face of the chalkboard: his body taut with the unexpressed anticipation in offering how the Druids had nothing to do with Stonehenge at all?

Amid the hushed curses in Spanish last night had been the sounds of the night birds and the intermittent high-pitched yakking of the Perez's brown-spotted terrier. who sneaked secret pees across the backyard when it thought no one was there. But from her bedroom she had an open view of the yard. Now walking people created click-clack. clack-click. that synchronizes the bird's morning soliloquy. Across the graveled yard. in black pants clad leg. from polished black shoes. came the steady clack-click. and in a lower pitch comes its companion sound in the quick but delicate drop of heel to toe-Amelia and Mr. Perez-walking arm in arm as they cut through sara·s yard on their way to work. A line of laundry hung from an elbow-shaped branch of a gumbo-limbo tree. Its reddish brown trunk was covered in moss and bright green twists of a vanilla orchid vine.

5 A sound coming from her brother's bedroom caused her to shift her weight in the bed. He was listening to BTO. She looked out the window to see her mother kneeling next to the tree scooping something off the grass.

The tree reminded her of the one in Tennessee. They had called the black walnut tree the old man: because of its color. and the wrinkled bark that oozed a moldy pungency. Years later when she thought of that time she couldn't remember what their house had looked like. only that it had set at the top of a rolling hill of bright green that faced the uneven peaks of Lookout mountain. But she never forgot the smell from the walnuts that were stored in a shed next to the tree. She and Ben had used them as ammunition. There were always too many to use so that most of them ended up rotted. stinking up the shed until her mother would find someone to shovel them out. She tried to imagine the house. but the memories were elusive. leaving her with only the vaguest idea of what it might have looked like. She thought she remembered how unhappy her mother had been. and decided she must have been missing her father. The memories tricked her sometimes. On her tenth birthday Aunt Faye had given her an album of black and white pictures she had found at a flea market. hoping to encourage her interest in photography. Her memories were like those anonymous faces fixated toward her, their steady gaze flat with emotion. peering out at her from the center of curling yellowed edges. At first she thought she recognized some of the people. a long-lost aunt a hundred years deceased, but the more closely she looked at their features and faces. she knew they were strangers. Like her

6 memories. they were only familiar-looking. as real or as imagined as she would allow them to be.

Her mother stood in the kitchen cutting holes in the side of a cardboard box. Inside the box was a bird. its feathers matted wet against its body. It lay unmoving. She would have thought it was dead but its eyes. black and dulling. peered up at her.

"Hi. sweetie. Damn blue jays. This is the second one they've pushed out this week. This one might have a chance. though. It landed on the grass. I think."

"Lucky Sammy didn't get to it. What's wrong with its eyes·~"

"Probably shock. I don't see any blood. I don't know what to feed it though." She opened a cabinet. "Maybe some oatmeal with milk."

"\\'here's Ben'?"

"Or Farina. Isn't that what birdseed is made or? Would you tell him I need that fish by three'?"

"You could chop up some of Dad's bait." When her mother turned toward the freezer Sara stopped her. ''I'm kidding. I'll ask Amelia when I see her. They had that canary for a while. At least a week. I think."

Ben was sitting on the floor of his room with a pile of records in front of him.

"She found a bird."

"Another one'? I think my door was closed. Maybe I should put up a sign.

Please knock first. if you don't fucking mind. Shit. where's Waylon'?"

7 "Wrong side of the bed?" She glanced at his bed. which was neatly made.

"Or. bed at all? Your bed? Her bed? Whose bed?" She slid onto the floor next to the pile of records. handing him an album. "Here it is. Your hair looks nice. I think it's longer than mine. now. In fact. from behind we could be twins."

He rolled his eyes and stood up. "That's funny. Hmmm. Pink Floyd.

What do you think. P or F?" He ran his fingers through his hair. Its color always surprised her. When they were younger she had gotten used to the comments about it. but always felt a little unsettled by the thought that he might be the prettier one.

"I don't know. Where did you put Elton John?"

He looked through a row of albums on the shelf. "Oops. I don't know.

Oh. E. Okay. Pit is. Thank you. Now. could you go while I get dressed? Or. do you want to come?"

"Yes. but I can't. I need to pick up some things for tonight." He made a face.

"Oh. shit. I almost forgot. I was going to go to the camps with Julio. Did you like the record this morning?

.. I don"t know. Couldn't hear it-wasn"t loud enough. Maybe you could turn up the volume next time-..

Ben interrupted ...Listen to this-they just arrested a bunch of Green Berets for doing LSD. like seventeen or something."

..Just seventeen? Guess they'll be going home soon."

8 .. Hmm. lef s see. Get court-martialed. Kicked out of the Navy and sent back to the States-Or-tromp through elephant grass in Saigon-Gee. I don't know. thaf s a tough one."

Iron-colored clouds began to gather. The rains were coming. Frame cottages identical to hers stood sentinel like in a neat row off the street. placed carefully there by the cigar owners years before to house the rollers. But the

Navy used them now. Though these were not as carefully tended. Squares of yard more dirt than grass held a mismatched assortment of tropical fruit trees: banana trees overburdened with hard green fruit grew alongside arched coconut trees in seemingly perpetual lean from the steady wind that blew in from the gulf. The houses in their disrepair only added to the view. Who expected immaculateness in the face of the wildness of this place':' Where each day. things were increasingly man-made. the houses in their untouched and unkempt state reflected the perpetual state of the island in all its glorious squalor. and like the families who lived in them. were unpretentious and unassuming. Cracked windows secured with duct tape unambiguously announced: imperfect life lives here.

On the comer of White and Duval. overgrown tropical flora managed to add charm to even the worst-looking of the buildings. In front of one of them. she paused. then took the pitted concrete steps two at a time. almost colliding with someone sitting on the bench outside the store. who had just risen. His skin was the color of the overripe flesh of a pomegranate fruit. The double doors were

9 painted with a sign that said .. Panaderia:· Inside. Amelia stood behind the counter. She smiled when she saw Sara. waving her over. The customer standing in front of her looked annoyed at the interruption. He was dressed in faded cutoffs wearing a T -shirt that said ...Ride This:· He pointed to a pastry inside the glass case in front of him and asked ...What" s this?""

.. It has panela creme inside. Very rich:· He scratched his head. causing his hair. which was short and dyed white. to stand up. making him resemble a startled cat .

.. Is it fatty? ..

··of course:· Amelia laughed. in a sound. low and musical. The customer laughed with her.

··okay. Give me two ...

Amelia called to a blond boy who was sitting in the comer behind the counter reading a Superman comic. ..Tico. help him please. I want to talk to

Sara.··

She came around the counter moving quickly. She grabbed Sara by her shoulders and reached up to kiss her on both cheeks.

··Hello my love. This is a surprise:· She smoothed her hair. ··My feet are already killing me. Are you hungry? Look how skinny you are. My god. I know your mother feeds you. What" s the matter. are you sick'? ..

.. No. no. rm not hungry:·

··okay. but I need a little bread. Sit down. I have some news ... She

lO pulled up a chair from one of the cafe tables. The interior of che room was fragrant with the yeasty smell of just freshly baked bread. Her stomach growled.

Amelia passed a loaf of bread across the table. waving it a Sara. She brought it up to her nose ...Smells good. huh?"

.. Is Julio coming home this weekend?" Sara took a piece of the warm bread and chewed it slowly .

.. Oh yes. he· s here. That ·s what I wanted to tell you. He brought someone with him. r m making them empanadas. You think his friend will like them. don·t you? I don·t know. maybe he's not used to that kind of food:·

.. It will be fine. Anyway they'll probably eat anything. Well. you know what I mean" .

.. What? rm so mad at Julio. You should see his hair. It looks like a girl's. I told him it's too curly to wear it that way. but he doesn·t listen to me.

And. I told him to not eat at Cecilia·s. That's all I have t do. tell him not to do something. then he runs and does the opposite. He took his friend there last night. and woke up with a stomachache." She took another bite ofche bread. "Serves him right. pobresito."

.. He came last night? That's probably who Ben was with. You want me to help? I can cut out the empanadas ifche dough·s made already."

.. You don't have to help me. love. I'm almost done." She shouted toward

Tico. who was wiping powdered sugar from his mouth. ..Stop eating those. Have many have you had?" She whispered to Sara. ··Just like his father. He loves the

ll sweets.··

She stood up. brushing her apron with her hands. ·'Take some bread to your mother."

"Who is that?" Sara pointed to the figure sitting outside on the bench.

Amelia shrugged. "Who knows? He just started showing up a few weeks ago.

You know how it is around here. Could be someone's brother. could be the

Mayor for all I know."

Outside. the man seemed to be preoccupied with his own unintelligible mumble. As Sara passed him. he turned watery gray eyes toward her. He held up a piece of paper toward her scrawled with the words, "The Vaine". He spoke.

His voice confused her. It was low. the words clear now. He asked. "Is this the brownie meeting?" She shook her head. trying to pass him. but he continued to speak. moving closer to her.

"Do you know me?" Why had she asked him that? She hadn't meant to respond to him at all.

He looked at her then like a blind man might. without expression or his body betraying any other external gesture to acknowledge that she was standing twelve inches in front of him. His lips moved. He began to mumble again.

"Bye," she said. before pushing the bread in his hands.

At the pier the fishermen were leaving freshly cleaned fish in a silvery pile on the dock. She watched them until a boat pulling up near the pier caught her interest. The person on board seemed unsteady. He was holding the line in his

12 hands. When he saw that she was watching him. he called out. "Can you get this?" He didn't wait for her response before the rope came toward her. She caught it easily. tying it to the dock. He bent down to retrieve something from the boat. a metal bucket that he placed carefully on the dock. Shielding his eyes with one hand. he stuck out the other toward her. His fingers caught hers as she released her hand .

.. Hey. thanks. I was beginning to get buggy."

.. Have you been out all morning'?" She was curious. suddenly noticing how ratty his clothes were. "You're not a tourist."

"The way you say tourists. I take it that you are not one yourself:"

.. Something like that. Were you fishing?""

He laughed. ··No. rm in town for a few days staying with a friend. I thought I would get some samples to take back."" He dug in his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. ""\Yell. I guess I should turn these in." He brought out his hand again. "Thanks. again." He turned away.

"Hey! You forgot your pail." She didn't turn back around to see if he had heard her.

L3 Chapter Two

Her father was in the backyard. kneeling in front of an oversized black pot borrowed from the ship's galley. striking matches against the bottom of his shoe. A wooden tub of lobsters squirmed next to him. She hated looking at them in a pile like that. barely moving in their last inch of freedom. But when she thought of them as scavengers on the ocean floor. somehow she felt less guilty.

The other men were sitting next to him offering advice but making no move to help him. Mr. Perez rolled a cigarette from a red can of Prince Alben tobacco. licking the paper with his tongue. Mr. Maninez sat next to him. taking from his breast pocket handfuls of cigars and passing them. He sniffed one. "Too bad you couldn't get the ones from Guantanomo. Charlie. These are a little sweet. huh'?"

Her father shrugged. He turned toward Sara. "Where's Ben'?"

"I'll go check."

"Tell him I need some more ice."

The house was strangely quiet. But each year during the opening of the lobster season. fewer and fewer people arrived from the neighborhoods. But it was early yet and the people in her neighborhood were notorious for showing up three hours after the expected time, personally affronted at any mention of time.

Time to pany. Time to go. It all held the same degree of relaxed urgency. though the time to pany was more widely regarded. When she went inside to get another pack of matches for her father. voices came from inside her mother's bedroom. the

14 words coming to her in fragments. but the conversation too muted and indistinct for her to clearly make out. She opened the door to the room. surprising her mother and Amelia. who were sitting on the edge of the bed. Her mother's ann rested across Amelia's shoulder. She stood in the doorway wondering if she should enter. unable to read her mother's expression.

"Shut the door."

Sara started to back out of the room. "No. come in. Just close it."

The bed shifted with her weight when she sat down. Amelia's face was stained with tears. the flesh below her right eye puffed and red.

Her mother spoke. "In the kitchen. in that drawer next to the stove where I keep the bottle opener-there's a blue-"

"You want me to get some ice?"

"Would you. honey?" Her mother brushed Amelia's hair from her forehead in the same gesture that Sara recognized from her childhood bouts with fevers. "Oh. and right above the refrigerator in the cabinet-"

"Scotch?" She got off the bed. "Anything else?"

Her mother shook her head wordlessly. Amelia smiled at her. but it only made her face seem sadder.

Ben was in the kitchen sprinkling the counter with Comet. One hand held a cup. the other a rag. He rolled his eyes at her. She could tell by his expression that he was annoyed.

"I don't have time for this crap. I'm supposed to meet Julio in a little

15 while. You're coming, aren't you? He took a sip from the cup. Want some'?"

"No." She reached above the refrigerator and pulled out the bottle. He stopped cleaning to look at her.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Hand me the ice pack."

"Let me have some."

"Dad's just outside."

"Oh. come on." He poured the liquid into his cup. taking a sip just as their father walked in. He stopped when he saw the bottle in her hand.

"Amelia's not feeling well."

He looked as though he wanted to say something. He shook his head.

"Sonofabitch." A vein in his forehead moved briefly. then he turned to Ben.

"Where's the ice?"

"Freezer. I think." He opened the door. "You don't need it now. do you?

Because I'm going out with Julio but I can drop it off in a little while."

"It's for the beer." He rubbed his forehead.

"Your commander coming'?"

"Uh huh. and his wife."

"Well. in that case, r II try to drop off a bag."

"Where are you going?"

"To the movies." She could tell he didn't believe him. He turned to Sara.

"You going, too?"

16 "Yeah. I guess."

The door was half-opened this time. Her mother was pacing the room when she walked in.

"Oh. good."

She handed her mother the glasses and opened the Scotch. She poured two glasses and handed one to each. Her mother brought the tumbler to her lips and tilted her head back. "Here" she said. handing the glass back. Sara filled it. Her mother caught her hand. "No. You."

She took the glass bringing it up slowly to her lips. It smelled odd. a combination of bitter/sweet. The bitter taste burned the back of her throat.

"Good?" Amelia looked at Sara. She tried to respond but nothing came out. Her eyes watered. Amelia and her mother laughed as she nodded to them.

"Again?" Someone knocked on the door.

"Frances? Where are the matches?"

They looked at each other. Amelia's smile seemed more normal now. Her mother yelled toward the door. "Behind the scotch."

"What-?" He stopped at the sound of their laughter. "Hello-?"

''I'm coming." Her mother went to the door. opening and closing it quickly. ''I'll be right back."

"Amelia? What happened?"

"Carlos doesn't like chicken on Saturday. I guess."

"Jesus." She wanted to say more. but she wasn't sure how to begin. She

17 put her hand on Amelia's. Amelia clasped her hand. patting it.

"It's okay. mejita. I'll be okay. I'll be okay because he's gone. Yes. Yes.

Yes. I kicked his Cuban ass out the door. For the last time. I told him. The last.

He's lucky Julio \Vasn't there." She pumped her fist in the air. "Coward."

"Asshole."

"In Spanish."

"Culo."

Sara reached for the bottle pouring two glasses half-full. She handed one to Amelia. "Here." She clicked her glass against Amelia's. "Here's to a fast boat back to Cuba." Her mother walked in to find them laughing on the bed. still swearing.

The cab of his red pickup smelled like forgotten laundry .

.. God! What have you been doing in here?"· Sara held her nose .

.. It stinks. doesn "t it?"" He grinned. ··r left a chum box in all night:·

.. Roll down the windows. Where are we going?"

""Pick up Julio:· He honked the hom in front of Amelia's house. Julio approached. He had someone with him. Julio opened the passenger side door. leaning his body forward into the cab toward Sara.

.. Hey. Miss Sara. I'm back. Give me a kiss. No. no. no. Cuban-style like this." She pushed him away. looking at the guy standing next to the truck. Julio followed her gaze and then straightened. "Sara. meet-"

18 Sara moved to the edge of the seat. and stuck out her hand. "Hi again. I'm Sara."

"Yes. you are." Julio gestured toward Ben. "And that is her brother Ben.

And you are Michael. Now everybody is acquainted. we can go." He pushed

Michael aside. "Hey. man. get out of the way. rm sitting next to her:· Julio moved Michael out of the way with his body and slid into the seat next to Sara.

Ben began to shift gears.

··Get in:·

''Is there room'?"

Sara moved over. "Of course."

Michael's knees knocked against the dash when he got in.

"Shit. man hov.: tall are you?" Ben backed the car out. and turned on the radio.

"Six-three. One hundred ninety-nine or so. Anything else you need to know?"

"Michael's a grad student at Carolina. Studies fish. He eats them. too. but won't touch my lechon asado. I don't think he likes my cooking."

"That's not true. Julio. You know I eat your black beans. When they don't give me indigestion."

"He puts too many peppers in them." Sara patted Julio's knee. "But we still like them."

"Please. What's the point if you don't make them a little spicy?"

"You going to be a fish doctor?"

19 "Maybe. I came here to pick up some salinity samples from the bay." Sara ignored Ben's raised eyebrows.

She leaned forward to try to get a better view of Michael. who \\'as squeezed against the frame of the door.

He watched her as he spoke. He kept adjusting his knees against the dash.

··Be still, man. you're killing me. Where you taking us. Ben'! Hope not far. My ass is killing me already."

"Sorry. man. Just trying to get comfonable."

"Do you want me to try to move over'?" Sara asked.

Julio spoke up. "Yes. move your sweet thing more this way."

··Hey. don't talk like that in front of my sister. She"s not used to that kind of shit."

Sara punched Ben's arm.

"What's that for?''

"Punch buggy. Didn't you see that green bug'! Ouch. Ben:·

"Oh. sorry. I thought you saw that shiny little white Volkswagen pass just now.··

··You hitting your sister?" Michael spoke up.

"Don't worry. Michael and I will protect you from your mean brother. yes. Michael'!"

"I don't know, Julio. She looks like she can handle him. That was quite a punch." Sara nodded.

20 "Why are you going so slow. man? It smells like shit in here." Julio picked up an empty coke boule and snickers wrapper. "Look at this. You're going to make me puke."

"Shut up. I'm trying to find the signs. Should be around here somewhere.

They keep moving the place so the cops won't hassle them. That's it. isn't it?"

Ben turned left off the road onto Key Haven and parked next to a sign that said LNE THE LIFE OF COOPERATNE BROTHERHOOD. REMOVE

YOUR MASKS. FREE YOUR COLLECTIVE SOUL

.. Dig that. Hippie humor:· Julio said. putting his hand up to his face.

··Here man. take my mask. I want to be free. Free. Free ...

.. Shut him up. And please. don't take it off. You·re going to scare people... Ben reached across Sara to poke Julio in the ribs .

.. Excuse me"? What are you trying to say? Don't beat around the bushes.

I know I've changed. My stomach is a little fat. but. am I not still pretty'?" Julio squeezed Sara's thigh. ··Feel this chin. look how smooth. Like my namesake:· He began to sing in Spanish .

.. You are really starting to worry me. Michael. what have you done to . .., .. hIm.

"Don't look at me. Although I have to say he's good to have around a place. always cleaning and cooking."

.. Hey. kids. we·re here. Let"s try not to kicked out before we get out of the friggin" truck. Act cool. Julio. stop singing. man." Ben pulled off the gravel

21 parking on the grass. A dozen separate campsites, with vans and camper trucks parked outside next to them. were arranged in an inelegant sprawl next to an inlet of murky-looking water. They were inhabited mainly by college dropouts. who took careless pride in catching the food they ate. slumlord Robinson Crusoes.

When they ran short of money. which was usually the third day after payday. they signed on for another day or two with one of the shrimp boats in Key Harbor.

Somebody was singing. Going to Carolina in my mind.

Ben sniffed. "Smell that? Like roses ...

A blond guy wearing a shawl walked toward Ben. extending his hand. "Hey. how's it going? Hadn't seen you in awhile:·

Ben shook his hand. "Hey. Pete. Meet the family."

"Grab a beer and stay for awhile."

Pete sat down on a large Coleman cooler. picked up a guitar. and started strumming lightly. He began talking. to no one in particular. They sat down next to a group of people huddled around a fire. A thin girl wrapped in a fringed shawl sitting next to Ben offered a joint to Sara, who shook her head. The girl shrugged. then pursed her lips around the tip and sucked in sharply. Holding her breath. she clasped Ben· s face in her hands and blew the smoke into his mouth.

"Give it to me." Sara reached for the joint. Ben. looking surprised. handed it to her. Sara brought the tip. damp from the girl's mouth. to her own and inhaled. She passed it around the circle. mouthing the words to the song Pete played on his guitar. Mother Mary comes to me. Speaking words of wisdom. Let it be. She felt her body begin to relax. Michael sat cross-legged next to her.

"Are you from North Carolina?"

"Asheville. But we used to go down to Wrightsville every weekend. I always loved the ocean. One summer. I met some people from North Carolina

State. from the Veterinary school. actually. who were doing research on the turtle strandings. I kept hanging around them every day until finally they let me help. probably just to keep me from annoying them. I don't know. I think that's when I knew I wanted to know more about it all. How about you'?"

"Well. I've been here a long time. off and on. We still have a place in

Tennessee that we stay at when my father goes out for six months. It's near the mountains. too. It's beautiful. but I always thought of myself as an ocean person. and not a mountain person. you know? There is something about being near the water. It's not even that I have to be in it. It's enough for me to be near it. you know'?"

He picked up he hand. which had been resting in her lap. He began to trace his fingers along hers.

"I mean. everyone but me scuba dives. I like to snorkel. but-why am I telling you all this?"

"Because I asked. And I'm interested. I kind of see what you mean about mountain vs ocean. Land vs. water."

"I take pictures. of the reefs and the fish. Sometimes Ben will help me if I start to get too freaked out. He can't stay still long enough to focus properly.

23 though. It's another world there. yet eveiJthing seems to work."

"Except it can get screwed up sometimes."

"I -guess that's where -vou come in." He looked at her. It was be -!!inning- to get dark. but his hair glimmered in the light from the fire. He shook his head. "I try. That morning I met you I had been out collecting samples from the bay. For some reason. the salinity levels have begun to affect the spawning-why am I telling you this'?"

"Because I like to hear you talk. So. talk. talk."

"About'?"

Pete had stopped playing. He began to speak.

"The cops tried arresting us the other day. Another fucking hippie round- up. They left us alone for awhile when we promised not to squat anymore on

Aeming. I don't think they're gonna like what we have planned next week. though."

"What's going on'?" Ben was sitting with the blond girl. who rested her head in his lap. He bent down to kiss her.

"Nothing. I'll keep you posted. It's all one big circle of shit. sometime. vou know·? Thev don't get the circle. man. If vou leave vour shit lving around. - ., - ., .. .. - you might just step on somebody else's shit the next time around."

"That's a lot of shit going on." Michael laughed.

"Laugh if you want. Look at Ben's old man. Talk about running in circles. leaving shit around-sorry. man." "Ask me if I care. Pete."

Waves slapped against the retaining wall of the bay relaxing her. The pot was making her dizzy. She closed her eyes against the spinning in her head. It seemed only a few minutes later. when she opened them. again. But there were only a few people sining around the fire. Michael \vas stretched out on a blue and white Mexican blanket. his head resting half-on. half-off the blanket. His eyes were closed. hands clasped behind his head. and legs pulled up. She had an urge to touch his nose. trace it with his fingers. He opened his eyes and looked directly at her.

..Michael:· she whispered. moving next to him. 'Where· d everyone go?..

.. 1 don·t kno\v. Ben and that girl went back there somewhere. And I haven·t seen Julio since we gN here:·

"I think I fell asleep. My head is killing me." She looked around. Figures were huddled together in blankets. A few people looked up at her. She didn't see

Ben. "Come on. let's go find them."

He sat up. brushing his hair with his fingers ...Here.·· he reached down to her.

She took his hand and stood up. They walked behind the campsites where tents in varying degrees of condition had been set up haphazardly across the open field. Some of the flaps were left open. and some had been zippered shut. They passed some. where faint outlines of bodies illuminated by kerosene lamps could be seen moving around inside. As they walked around the maze of scattered tents. they heard muffled voices corning from within. Someone laughed loudly.

Sara recognized Ben· s laugh corning through a Salvation Army green tent in front of them. She pointed to it and said... Over there ...

Michael pretended to knock at the opening. calling out... Knock. and you know. knock again."

.. Hang on. hang on a minute:· Ben· s voice came from inside. Sara moved in front of Michael and looked inside to see Ben zipping his pants. The blond girl gave them a sleepy wave. Ben thre\v the sleeping bag over her and stood in the doorway with his hands on his hips ...Hey. what's up?"

''Hey. you tell us. It's late. We should go. I'm sure Dad forgot all about your little incident by now. Anyway he's going out on the boat all night. so you're safe."

.. Where·s Julio? ..

.. I don·t know. He is FUBAR. man. I don·t think he·s going anywhere anytime soon ...

"Well. fine. I don·t really care. but I think we should get her home:· he said. motioning towards Sara .

.. Look. can you take her horneT· Ben touched Sara·s arm ...You·ll be okay?.. At her nod. he dug his keys out of his jeans pocket and handed them to

Michael. .. Look. just take her home and park my truck at Julio·s... ·when they started to leave. he called back. "Michael? Be careful. huh?"

26 Sara replied. "''ll be fine. Don't worry about it."

Michael gently pushed Sara forward. ··croon. lefs go."

They drove with the windows rolled down in the mild night. sending a welcome stream of warm air through the cab. They drove with her head tucked under Michaer s arm. She liked his smelL

'Hey. Can you sit up a minute~ I need some help with directions:· He leaned toward the windshield. "Christ. It's dark out here. I really can't see a fucking thing."

"Neither can L I'm just kidding." She moved away from him. Her face was warm where she had been resting it against his chest. "Just look for signs for l."

.. Yeah. I think rm on it:·

..That was fast. Wait. Tastee Freeze. Oh. good. Just keep straight. If you hit \\'ater. you've gone too far." She yawned. "Roosevelt. right. Kennedy. left. Very left actually. and right on Aagler." Now that she was awake she stared out the window at the passing signs. The Tackle Box. Shell Shack. Citgo

Station. McDonalds. IHOP. Her mouth tasted like burned toast. She remembered the last time she had smoked. She and Ben had gone out on an uninspired Friday night to gawk at the heavily made up transvestites in their raunchy attire who milled outside the mangy bars on Duval. like bawdy. expectant bridesmaids destined to remain forever altar-less. When she had finally gone home. after pulling Ben away from one of the girls who kept calling him Marilyn. she was

27 ravenous. She had rummaged around the kitchen like a raccoon at a campsite. looking for something to eat. She had cut a thick slice of her mother·s chocolate cake and carried it into the living room to watch television before she went to bed.

She was eating it chunks at a time. glad that she didn't have to pretend to be ladylike about it. when she glanced at the window to find someone outside watching her. On a swell of adrenaline she had bolted upright from the chair. only to find that the figure in the window. her own reflection. had moved with her.

The house was dark when they pulled the truck into the gravel drive.

Michael shut the engine off and turned to Sara... Doesn"t look like anyone·s home."

.. 1 don"t think so. They always move the party to the Martinez's."

Michael opened the door and got out of the truck ...Come on. r ll walk you in.·· Sara scooted across the seat and got out on his side.

The house smelled like bacon: her mother must have made her German potato salad. Sara flicked on the light in the living room. Michael followed her.

.. Do you have a pen somewhere?'" She pulled out one of the cabinet drawers cluttered with uiu receipts and handed him a pen. He sat down at the table and wrote something on a piece of paper .

.. What are you doing?'" she asked him .

.. Telling your folks Ben·s at Julio·s:· Michael shrugged ...Hope that's okay."

:!8 "I don't think they'll mind:' Her sense of smell seemed heightened: the bacon aroma. greasy and thick. permeated the kitchen. making her feel queasy. "I have to go to bed:· She walked unsteadily toward her room. feeling like a marionette whose strings just broke. The floor beneath her feet felt as though it were moving. She felt it giving way beneath her feet. as if the foundation were sinking. and realized she was falling. She called to Michael. not sure if she had spoken aloud. To her own ears. her voice sounded far away. as if coming through a tunnel. She didn't expect him to hear her. But he did and caught her before she fell.

"I feel funny:·

"Where·s the bathroom?'" he had his arm around her waist. half-carrying her as she tried to walk.

'There:· she pointed. He opened the door and helped her sit on the toilet.

He shoved a towel under the faucet. letting it run until it was soaked. He patted it against her forehead the way her mother used to do when she had gotten a fever as a child. She covered her face entirely with the wet towel. breathing through the thick cotton fiber. Her stomach lurched. She started to cry. "I think rm going to throw up:· She slid off the toilet onto the floor. "Can you go. please?"

"Okay... He said. holding her head as she vomited into the toilet.

"Go. Please. go.·· After a few minutes. she sat back. She rinsed her mouth off in the sink not caring that the water had soaked her clothes. Her stomach ached. like the time she was twelve and Ben dared her to do two hundred sit-ups.

29 Michael stood up and walked out of the bathroom. She sat down on the toilet and

pulled her pants off. trying to cool off. He was standing in the hallway. She

walked past him into her bedroom and lay down on the bed. He came in. ··Feel

better·?''

"No. Go away:·

.. Okay." He turned toward the doorway .

.. Wait. I'm sorry. Come here. Please."

She felt her bed shift as he sat down on the end. He reached across her

body and pulled the sheet over her. patting it under her body. Sara reached up to

touch his hair. "Michael?"

··Shhh." he said. ··Go to sleep."

.. Michael.''

.. What?"

.. I like your hair."

He bent his head and kissed her on the lips. His lips felt warm. moist. Her

eyes closed. She was half-asleep when she heard him say. "I"m going no\v.

Goodnight."

"Good-night. Michael."

Her mother walked in her room. carrying a glass of orange juice.

''Here. drink this ... She looked at Sara as if she could read her mind. ·r got the note."

30 "What note? Oh. Is Daddy home?''

''He· s out back digging the hole for the cookout tonight. Where did you go last night?" Sara considered lying. but she looked at her mother's concerned eyes and changed her mind.

"The hippie camps." She added quickly. "You know. just hung out. Me and Ben and Julio and a friend of his. from school."

"Michael."

"Yes."

"I see. Well. Michael left me a note saying Ben was spending the night at

Julio's."

"Oh. yeah."

"Well. when I was leaving Amelia's house. Michael walked in. alone."

"Oh."

"Well. you better get dressed. Michael should be here soon ...

"Why'?"

"To take you with him to pick up Ben and Julio." Her mother looked at her.

·-r m sorry. Mama."

"I would just rather you told me the truth ... She took the empty glass from

Sara and walked out of the room. She was sitting at the table eating a biscuit when her mother walked in with Michael trailing behind her. She felt her face flush. He stood in the comer while her mother went to the stove. A wing of hair

31 stood up on the side of his head. She must have been staring at him because he raised his hand to smooth it out.

.. Here." She motioned toward the other chair. "Sit." When he pulled his chair next to hers. she had to force herself to not look into his face. She hoped he hadn't remembered what she had said. "How do you feel?"

"Okay. How about you?" He pointed one finger at his head. She stuck her finger in her mouth. "Better. thanks." Her mother turned around when she heard them laughing.

··Michael. Have you had your breakfast"? .. She didn"t expect an answer as she took out an extra plate from the cupboard and placed it in front of him. ln the small southern town outside Birmingham where her mother had been raised. all visitors. once they crossed the threshold were treated the same. invited or uninvited. becoming adjunct members of the family. at least for as long as they stayed .

.. Here:· she would say to an unsuspecting visitor. some hapless insurance salesman or Jehovah· s witness recruiter. who clearly did not understand the one basic tenet of defense against southern hospitality: abject refusal. which in itself was never fully guaranteed. One short "yes" or even an unsure glance propelled them into her mother's waiting arms where they were soon to be bombarded with questions. But her mother's interest in people was genuine and somehow they almost always knew that. So that by the time she got around to .. You·ve just got to try this pound cake.". they were bringing out family pictures and laughing at

32 her stories. while her mother fussed over them like a long-lost friend.

She scooped out the remaining pieces of egg from the skillet and placed them into Michael" s plate. Sara passed him a plate of biscuits. freshly buttered.

·This is delicious:· He spoke to her mother. who was already filling the sink to wash the dishes.

33 Chapter Three

Michael came to say good-bye before he left. They hardly noticed that the fragrance coming from the frangipani and jasmine bushes lingered as they walked .

.. Smell that'? ..

.. Yeah. Ifs nice. isn't itT

.. Come on... Sara pointed to a two story building on the comer that faced

Francis and Southard. Each window was framed by white painted metal awnings with scalloped edges .

.. Ice cream'? .. Michael took her hand to cross the street.

Four streets from Duval. juo;t beyond the kite man· s house. (who flew his fifty or so multi-colored kites each Saturday morning as faithful as a rooster· s crow). just past Elizabeth. was the neighborhood grocery store. Inside it was dimly lit by the filtered sunlight that somehow managed to stream through the dirty windows. illuminating the revolving dust particles that hung over the overflowing hodge podge of goods inside. Grocery items. hardware items. It was a place where customers from the adjoining three-block radius were just as likely to buy a gallon of milk (if they didn't have to time to go all the way to the A&P) as a tiny square sheaf of fine white rolling papers.

She led Michael to the back of the store where a girl in a tie-dyed T -shirt with granny glasses perched on the tip of her nose was busy scooping out ice

34 cream from a round cardboard container. She glanced over the top of her glasses at them .

.. Hi. \\'hat can I get for you?'.

··What do you want?'" Michael turned to Sara.

··Rocky-road.··

··Make that one rocky-road and one butter pecan:· The girl was singing as she scooped out the ice cream .

.. Here you go:· She handed both cones to Michael. taking the money from his outstretched hand. She handed him some change and asked them. ··You guys going to the demonstration later?"

.. Where· s it at?"

.. Off Whitehead. Across from Bahamian Village. You should go. If s gonna be cool. They're gonna burn all the cards. Plus. the cops are gonna start fining for hitchhiking. Like we're hurting someone. you know'?" She gave a dirty look... They'll still let the squids do it. can you believe that'~ ..

.. My father's a squid."

.. Oh yeah? No offense. You guys should try to go:·

.. Yeah. thanks." Michael answered her while glancing at Sara. "Did that bother you?"

"What? The name? I'm used to it. Somebody's always pissed about something around here. I think they just need an excuse to do something. I don't care. I mean. it is true what she said about the cops. I don't know why they think

35 it's gonna make a difference if they stick two or three hippies in jail. It just gives evervone somethin2: to do and somethin2: to talk about. You readv'?" ~ - ~ ~ They went outside and sat down on the steps to eat. Streams of chocolate trailed down the sides of Sara· s cone. dripping onto her fingers and her hand.

"Help!"

She held out the cone to him. He tasted it. biting off the top.

"You're a biter. Isn't it too cold like that"?"

"Uh-uh:· He took another bite of his own. "Delicious. What about you?..

.. I lick. like normal people. See?""

.. I see. But biters get more."

.. Doesn't taste as good that way:·

.. Let me see:· He leaned toward her. She thought he was going to have some more of her ice cream so she started to hand it to him. but instead he bent his head to hers, so close she could see the pupils of his eyes. luminous and black. almost covering the dark blue of his irises. His mouth was warm. sweet from the ice cream. She sat back, wishing he would kiss her again .

.. I see what you mean.··

.. Michael?"

"What?"

"It's getting all over me." He started to laugh .

.. Oops. here." He scooted his body next to hers. then leaned over and wiped her knee with a comer of his T -shirt. He picked up her hand and brought

36 it up to his mouth.

··Here. let me help you:· He began to lick her fingers.

··Michael:·

··oo you want me to stop'?'' She didn't. not really. but a child on her way

into the store had stopped to stare at them .

.. 1 think rm okay now:·

.. Ready'?""

.. Not really." He pulled her up from the steps.

"Me. neither."

"Here. r m finished with this:· He took the cone from her and tossed it

into a garbage can.

Just as they stood up. they felt the first drops of rain. By the time they

dashed inside. they were completely soaked. A scramble of people on the streets

scattered about like a bevy of confused ducks. trying to take cover from the sudden rain that had turned into a full-fledged rainstorm.

The wind picked up. causing the rain to blow sideways in steady horizontal sheets of water that hit the pavement a thousand drops at a time. Sara felt for a moment as if time had halted. that the only thing she wanted to do was to stand in the doorway and watch the rain fall with Michael. It was invigorating. benign. with no lightning, the kind of rain that could inspire Gene Kelly to dance around a street lamp.

They didn't try to speak over the clamor of wind and rain. A man riding a

37 bicycle pedaled by with some effort. holding a soggy newspaper over his head.

But almost as suddenly as it began it ended. Tendrils of steam rose from the street that had begun to dry in patches. littered with pinkish purple jasmine blossoms and leaves that lay matted in a giant street collage. They tried to avoid the cats that had begun their daily afternoon nap vigil. undeterred by the approaching footsteps. in their staunch claim of the sidewalk and streets. Sara bent to pet the back of one. who arched itself toward her. The zig zag pattern of its varicolored orange. yellow and black coat reminded her of a blanket she had seen last summer when her class had gone on a field trip to the Smithsonian.

They stopped in front of a stone-colored church.

"Let's go in."

"Really?"

She and Ben had gone with their mother to the church on Sundays. where the pews were filled with a mixture of people. who represented all walks of life in

Key West. as if plucked by the hand of God from some great racial. ethnic and economic diverse pool and plopped down on the pews. in order of perceived piety. There were proper-looking older ladies in perfect halos of hair. some of them members of her mother· s garden club. who were sometimes escorted by young black girls. as they pointedly took up the first two rows. The transvestites. most of whom hadn · t bothered to wash off their makeup or change their clothes from the night before always sat in the last few rows. Sara and her family usually sat somewhere in the middle. Then she and Ben spent most of the service turning

38 around. giggling and fidgeting in their seats. taking turns winking at by the ladies in the back. The assumption. usually false. was that the closer your pew was to the preacher. a short balding man in a burgundy cassock who was rumored to be wearing a dress beneath. the more pious you were. Just when Sara thought she might fall asleep with the sheer length of the service-Protestant preachers were almost always more long-winded than their Catholic counterparts- Mrs. Bishop­ who sat at the piano stool with her back held so rigid and upright it was surprise to not find a pile of books on her head would then began to play the opening chords of ··Just as I am... the signal for all the sinners from the week before to walk down the aisles with their heads slightly bowed and stand before the preacher. who would lead them into the final prayer. When they were nine or ten. she and Ben used to join the group at the foot of the preacher"s stand. not real!y understanding, but wanting somehow to participate. to belong, and to seem like all the rest. Later. as they got older. they stopped attending church altogether. though Sara sometimes went just to hear the singing.

"Do you think we should go get them now?"

She looked up at the sky. Her father had taught her how to tell time by the position of the sun.

"Yeah. they should be getting hungry by now."

Ben and Julio were sitting on the ground. cross-legged. smoking cigarettes.

39 "What took you so long? Man. we've been waiting all night for you." Ben giggled.

''Shut up and get in." Sara popped the clutch roughly and the car lurched. throwing 1ulio and Ben fon.vard.

"Whoa. Watch it. now ... 1ulio called out.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. Miss Sara."

"You know something? I could use some cooling off...

Julio sniffed his armpit. "Or a bath."

"Ha. Let's go to the park ... Ben thumped Sara's knee.

"See? There you go again. Reading my mind."

"Don't start that twin esp shit." Julio groaned.

"Julio. I'm reading your mind right now and I don't like what I see. man."

Sara looked at Michael. "Do you feel like swimming?"

He nodded. "Sure."

She took the east fork of Roosevelt. driving until the asphalt ended just before the entrance to the park. She returned the wave from the man standing in the guard booth wearing a pair of cutoff shorts. She ignored the main part of the beach and took a dirt road that led to a small inlet where the water was fed directly from the Gulf Stream. shaded by fat Kapok trees that grew along the edge.

"Come on." Ben was the first to get out. Julio followed him. Michael

40 asked her... you coming in?"

.. yeah. in a minute. You can go ahead.··

··[ can wait for you:·

.. I need to do something first:·

.. Oh. You want me to go~ ..

··Yes.··

.. Okay:· He shrugged his shoulders.

When he stepped out of the car. she reached under her shirt to unclip her bra strap, then hooked it over one arm. then the other before slipping it off. the way some of the girls at summer camp did when they were too embarrassed to undress in front of everyone. She hadn't brought her bathing suit but her shorts and T-shirt would have to do.

She shuffled in slowly. wincing at the sharp shells that poked at her feet.

The coral reefs that stretched 150 miles from Key Largo to Key West acted as a filter. absorbing the force of the ocean waves which otherwise would have helped turn the craggy rock-filled bottom into the soft fine sand found everywhere else in

Aorida

She waded in. not caring that her T -shirt had become transparent. the soft material clinging to her chest. where small circles of flesh showed through. The fev.: dates she had been on. mostly double dating with Jennifer. had been with boys her age. who would kiss and touch her under her shirt. as they sat parked outside the Bike drive-in. pretending to watch the movie. It felt good to be

41 touched. to be kissed. but there was no sense of urgency. and sometimes she caught herself trying to feel the way she thought they wanted. She was almost sorry for them. as they grew excited. breathing heavily. wanting more from her than she could give. They would give up readily when she protested. tired and suddenly annoyed by the clumsy, inexact hands on her body. ··stop:· she would say. and they would.

She waded closer to Ben. who was trying to dunk Julio. She called out to him: "I don't think he appreciated you staying out all night ...

He splashed her. wetting her face. He ducked as she splashed him. accidentally splashing Michael in the face.

"Hey. don't wet your sister." Michael and Ben began splashing water at each other. Michael bumped Sara with his elbow.

"''m sorry. Are you okay? Where did I get you?"

"Here." She lifted her arm. He took it. bending down to kiss it. She put her arms around his neck. She heard a splash. Ben dove underwater. Michael held her by the waist, lifting her up. He put his face close to hers. and then touched her lips with his. His lips were wet from the water. She reached up and touched his hair. It was wet. curling at the back of his neck. Someone pulled at her feet. She screamed. "Ben!" A flock of seagulls gathered low to the water.

Julio began to yell and slap the top of his head. ··oye. ese pajaro cago en mi cabeza!" He dunked his head in the water. slapping at his hair. "Oh my God. It's disgusting." Sara pulled herself from Michael's arms. and waded toward Julio.

42 "Calm down." Julio dunked himself under the water. rubbing at his hair.

He tilted his head toward Sara. .. Can you see anything'? ..

.. Let me see... She splashed water across his head. "Okay. It's out. I pronounce you shit-free:·

.. You're still a shithead. man:· Ben yelled at him. They started laughing .

.. Oh. God. I have to go take a shower. No one will want me now:·

"Yeah. we gotta go. too. I have to face the old man." Sara turned to

Michael.

"When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow."

"When will you be back'?"

''I'm not sure. That's the thing about marine biologists. We're always off working on one project to another-it's not real good for-you know. meeting people. It kind of sucks. really."

He gave her a quick hug. then jumped off the steps. She watched him back out of the driveway. and then turned to go inside the house. She heard the shift of gears and the sound of the car coming back. He had driven to the end of her street and must have changed his mind. She saw him backing the car into her driveway. He stopped. flung open the door and ran back up the steps .

.. Forgot something.·· He took her hand and kissed it. Without a word. he got back in the car and drove out of sight. She stood a few minutes longer on the

43 porch. half-hoping she might hear the sound of the VW coming back.

Her hand tingled where he had touched her. She held it flat against her stomach. so that from a distance it seemed as though she were dancing solo. holding it smoothly against her torso. taking tiny steps. forward and back. forward and back. in a semi-circle.

The cavalcade started from the North end of town and worked its way along Roosevelt. headed for Mallory Square. An elongated joint. its exaggerated proportion from a distance resembling a drinking straw. was passed among the walkers. though Sara refused. handing it to Ben. who took a long drag. before passing it to the girl next to him. Their intention. she thought. was to beat the sun before it set across the wide expanse of sky visible from the pier. and to piss off as many people as possible along the way. They had gotten off to a good start. pulling people randomly off the streets. chanting good-naturedly. so that a few tourists. with nothing much better to do. and a few of the shop owners.( Linda from the Library. and Sandy from the bookstore) joined them. They walked in groups of twos and threes down Whitehead. ignoring the traffic. and holding homemade signs that read. ···war is bullshiC. and .. Peace Now ... When some of them began to shoot birds at the people on the sidewalks. a few of the tourists dropped out. She saw Ben holding hands with the girl from the camp .

.. 1 didn't think you were coming. Man. look at those cops over there. They don "t know whether to piss or shit:·

44 .. Who· s that?" Sara pointed to the girl.

··you know Maria."

.. 1 didn't know you were such good friends."

"Okay."

The girl glanced over at Sara. and then adjusted her halter-top.

At Whitehead. they joined another group sitting on the sidewalk. drinking beer. She wished she had brought her camera.

.. Look at that sign.·· Ben turned to Sara.

.. Drop Acid-Not Bombs··.

"I don't think we're using those in this one. are we·?"

"Who cares? Sounds good."

A few people of the people sitting begin to chant... Remember Kent

State:·

The boos began when they neared Duval.

A man walking next to her had on a black T-shirt with a picture of a woman wearing a mini-skirt. Poking from beneath the miniskirt was a penis. The sign the T-shirted man carried read: ··Gay is Good. Gay is Proud...

"Ben." Sara stopped walking. ''I'm going."

.. What's the matter? You said you wanted to come ...

··Yeah. but these people look like they"re so stoned they don't even know what's going on. Half of them don't even know why they are even here:· She pointed to the man in front of her. "Anyway. the cops are probably going to give

45 you another ten minutes before they start rounding you up. Unless you don't care."

.. Come on. Sara. They fucking open-fired and nobody seems to give a shit.

Just hang around until we get to Duncan. They were supposed to do the square­

Eaton. Emma and then. Truman. What the hell. I guess you can't expect a bunch of hippies to be that organized."

"Shit. okay. Let's go. little bro."

Ahead of her. several people had stopped and converged in an alley off

Olivia. Pete climbed on top of a dumpster. and opened the lid.

"Hand me some matches." He yelled down to Ben.

"Don't."

Ben pulled a packet of matches from his pocket and threw them toward

Pete. Pete jumped off the dumpster and threw a lighted match into it. While the smoke began to spiral. he took out something from his back pocket.

"C'est Ia vie. Uncle Sam. You're not welcome to my life."

Ben stood. watching Pete.

"Well. go ahead. You know you want to." Sara motioned toward the paper in Ben's hand.

He threv.: the draft card into the dumpster. The girl next to him started laughing. He bent down. She straddled his back. and then got on his shoulders.

She lifted her hands above her head. trying to catch the flakes of ash floating up.

46 The light from the fire created an aureole. a radiant circle of movement as she swayed back and forth on Ben's shoulders. Sara backed away from the heat. Her face was flushed.

"Let's go."

··Go if you want ...

"Look. you already made your point. Come on. I can hear the sirens."

··rm going to stay here for awhile."

"Okay. but I think I'll start walking before they set the whole fucking place on fire."

When she tried to get out of the alley. a crowd of people blocked her from the street. There was a heightened sen~e of urgency to their movement no\v.

Someone picked up a chair and threw it towards the dumpster. It landed just outside. but a spray of sparks flew up in her face. Shit. Shit. She began to run. pushing people out the way. She stopped when she went through the gate at

Bahamian Village. A woman stepped out of one of the houses onto the front porch. She sat down on a rocking chair. putting her arms on the rests. and began to rock. While Sara looked in her direction. she raised her hand. in a slight \vave. as though she were acknowledging the scene before her.

As she walked in the dark toward her house she thought of the headline in this morning's paper. N. Viet Siege line is Broken. Under it had been a picture of a uniformed GI running across a Laos field. holding in his arms an old woman.

Barely recognizable in the cavernous wrinkles of her face was her expression of

47 stunned incomprehension. her mouth slightly open. like a fish that had just been brought out of the water. What she wore around her body. indeterminate in its shape and color. more closely resembled rags than actual clothing. She clutched a knapsack. which contained. Sara imagined. all that was left of her life. What had she chosen to take'? Pictures of her grandchildren'? Her wedding portrait'? The tension in the soldier" s face. was a cruel contrast with the accepted withered resolve of the woman in his arms. cradled there like a baby. His jaw set in unflinching Cidiotic?) duty. discernible even through the graininess of the black and white picture. She thought of her father and wondered how he was. Was it easier for him to be gone? This morning when she had pointed out the picture to

Ben. who had been reading the scores of the city baseball league. he had glanced at it. then given it back to her. ··Propaganda. The Navy just loves printing pictures like this. rm sorry for those people and rm glad we tried to help them. but it doesn"t seem to be working. does it'? Why should I have to put myself in that situation? It"s hopeless."

48 Chapter Four

Her mother's friends were sitting in green iron chairs with scalloped backs. smoking Marlboros and drinking from a plastic pitcher of sangria. They talked all at once. their voices folding into noisy crescendo before. all at once. and all at the same time. they would stop themselves to laugh. Their husbands had just left too. for the last tour out before they closed the submarine school. Her mother was up and down. walking into the house for refills of sangria. or more baskets of popcorn. Sara watched them from her bedroom window. She was trying on the dress Amelia left for her yesterday. but it dido ·t fit right. the bodice was too short for her torso. She looked in the mirror. and felt ridiculous. She heard her mother calling her.

.. Sara. come let us see:·

··rm not ready:· She wished she hadn·t promised Amelia she would go talk to the man at the restaurant. She felt like a dress up doll in hand me downs.

She was getting ready to take the uniform off when her mother called again.

··sara! ..

··oh. look at you! .. Mrs. Pentz was rubbing the back of her Pekingese with tapered red nails. Her mother stood up and came around to her.

··Let me see.··

··Mom:· But she did an obligatory twirl for them .

.. you look adorable sweetie ...

49 .. Baby. all you have to remember is to smile:·

.. Thanks. Ana:· She spoke to the one with the bleached hair. who always be2an her holidav decorations two months before anvone else. ~ - - Her mother bent down and lifted the hem of Sara· s dress. exposing her thigh.

..Mama. stop it:·

.. It's a little long. don·t you think'? Maybe I should hem it up a bit:·

.. Is it too long?..

··rm kidding. sweetheart:·

.. Does it look too shortT Sara tugged at the hem that fell an inch above her knees ...Did Amelia talk to them about meT·

.. No. it looks very nice. Yes. of course. Just tell them you·re her neighbor. I wonder what time you·ll be home? I can make us a casserole with the leftover chicken. Or we can go out somewhere. You can invite Michael if you want."

"He's left."

"Oh. honey."

"No. Mom. it's okay. I mean. he was cool. you know. Look. the chicken will be fine. No curry. though. okay? ..

.. Just a little? Oh. okay. You had better go. Wait a minute ... She disappeared into the house. coming back a few minutes later with a camera .

.. Mom. come on ...

50 ''Oh. let me just take one. Smile. Don't pose. just act natural. Wait. let

me get the hair out of your eyes... Her mother moved close to Sara and brushed a

lock of her hair away from her face. She took off her hat.

"Here. Put this on. It will look cute."

"No. Don't."

"Okay. sweetie."

Her mother looked disappointed. Watching her mother bring the camera

down. still smiling at her. she felt the first pinprick of hairs rise across the upper

side of her forearms. She turned to leave. Someone's walking on your grave.

Aunt Faye would have offered. But the sensation confused her. just as she was

about to change her mind. and so she ignored it. and the line of prickles against

her skin. And she would not have been able to determine the exact moment it

bumped against her reason. the nameless something. because it was gone before

she recognized the words. before she allowed them to penetrate into thought. And

so. it was unconsummated thought. which she ignored. And the moment. elusive

and the words. unattainable. gone. She had meant to say: Take the picture. She

began to walk away from them. When she looked back. her mother had settled in

the chair again. and was laughing at something Mrs. Pentz was saying. the dog

yapping madly in unison to their laughter.

She rested her bike against the stucco wall of the restaurant. underneath a green and white striped awning. and walked through the windowed double doors. smoothing down the hem of her dress that had hiked up near her thighs as she had

51 pedaled.

''Kiss mother earth. Heart that'? Heart that'? Seeping soil. Soul. Seeping straight through the cracks. Crackerjack."

Sam was sitting. hunched over on the bench outside the restaurant. filling his mouth with food from a paper bag dotted with grease spots. He stopped shouting when he saw her.

''Hi:·

His eyes seemed to be focused on the door behind her. and it was disconcerting looking at him. as though he was seeing through her.

··Goddamn. if s hot:·

She laughed. "I know."

Inside the activity level was intensely noisy as a handful of waitresses dressed in tangerine polyester dresses identical to hers scurried across the dining floor.

They turned to her as she entered. A man approached her.

··sara·?'' He looked down at his watch. He ran his fingers through his hair.

She held out her hand to him. and it seemed to rest between them before he took it.

.. rm Sara. a friend of Amelia's."

.. Yes. of course. How are you? rm Victor." She couldn't tell if he was laughing at her. His face was lean. and tanned. The sight of his toes peeking out from his sandals relaxed her. and she didn't feel as nervous. He followed her

52 gaze to his feet .

.. Georgia. come here.··

A man who had just entered the restaurant brushed past Sara. and pointed to a booth behind her. ..Coffee:· She was unsure how to respond.

··Fine. Ralph. sit down. we·ll help you in a minute:· He smiled at her.

She looked around her. Pictures of half naked men holding oversized tarpon in crowds of people hung on the \valls. A fishing net had been strung across the ceiling. and hung down low.

··come on. rll show you around:· She followed him to a counter near the back where a mahogany colored man was flipping hamburgers.

··Henry. meet Sara:· She smiled at him; he lifted his spatula to her in greeting. He continued whistling .

.. Listen. Don"t worry about anything. I just wanted you to meet everyone.

You can start tomorrow morning. But I won·t be in. I have to leave tonight:·

"I don't mind starting now."

He made a sound. as if to clear his throat. then yelled toward one of the waitresses. a plump pretty girl with dark hair. ..Georgia. come here for a minute.

This is Sara-let her follow you around for awhile:·

The other waitresses converged in the back. half hidden by the racks of clean plates and glasses. Irene. who wore her jet black hair in a stiff ponytail and moved in tiny steps. with her body thrust forward slightly like a pigeon. on her face a look of weary resignation. as though she had stopped caring a long time

53 before how the rent was going to be paid. The one named Cyndi. nodded to her. before filling two tumblers full with tea.

The hardest part was remembering the orders. She was supposed to write everything down but found she couldn·t write fast enough. so she started to abbreviate. Mr. V

She found balancing the plates of food on the carrying platters was a little tricky. but that it was a lot easier placing them on than taking them off. She learned that the hard way when a plate she had removed caused the remaining plate to slide forward. tipping over on the table. It happened just as Georgia walked by. She came to the table and joked with the customer. a man with spectacles perched at the end of his nose ...Sorry about that. I know you didn ·t want that sunny side down. Here. we·n get you another one."

She kept apologizing until finally Georgia told her to stop .

.. Honey. ifs not that big a deal. My land. I poured a scalding hot cup of coffee smack-dab in the crotch of a customer one time. I think it might have pissed off his old lady more than him:·

A table of women. dressed in tight dresses wearing heavy makeup sat in

Sara· s section. She saw Georgia look at Irene.

"Why don·t you let me take that one. honey?" Irene asked her. starting to

54 move toward the table.

'That" s okay. I got it." As she approached the table. she realized they were not women. One of them. heavy set with garish jewelry. seemed to have read her mind

"What's the matter':' See something you :ike"?""

"What'?"

··Leave her alone:· This came from the nicest looking one. who was wearing a black dress trimmed in red ruffles in the front. Her face was smooth. dark. Latin-looking.

"Hi:·

"Hi:·

"What can I get for you?''

"Some of that gorgeous hair. Look at her:·

"Shut up. Kitten. ru take the steak and eggs. one egg. please."

"Do you want bacon or sausage'?"

"Honey. are you kidding':' Have to watch my girlish figure." They laughed.

"Kitten. You're so stupid. Ignore her." The Latin looking one smiled at her. waving her fingers with a flourish.

When she brought the order back. Irene asked her how it had gone.

"Fine."

"'They're harmless. They like to come in here after work sometimes."

55 .. Really. You know that dark one. she"s kind of. he·s. welL he looks pretty good:·

.. You·re not kidding. Looks better than me. Did you see those legs?"

.. I know."

They left her a five-dollar tip on an eight-dollar order. She took the five. and then walked over to Irene. who was making coffee. She waved the five-dollar bill under her nose .

.. Not too bad. huh? ..

.. Hey. not too bad. They must have liked you. Hope not too much:·

They sat in a booth and counted the tips that sat in gleaming mounds of coins. nickels. dimes. and quarters in front of them. Georgia had a lot of dollar bills in her pile. Cyndi. whose complexion was the color of parchment. sat in a booth by herself with her hands wrapped like a bandage around her head .

.. What·s the matter with her?"" Sara asked Georgia .

.. Migraines. honey. Bad:·

.. Oh.··

Cyndi got up suddenly and headed toward the bathroom .

.. Gone puking. poor thing.··

.. Shouldn"t she go horneT

.. Better for her to be here:·

.. Why?""

.. Cause her husband"s at home. Not a fun guy:·

56 .. Oh:·

She called out good-bye to Victor. who was watching a broadcast of

Nixon on the tiny screen of a black and white television at the end of the counter.

Without taking his eyes off the screen. he waved his hand in the air.

She let herself in the house. Amelia was sitting at the breakfast table.

··Amelia!·· Sara had to bend to kiss her cheek. She shook the change in her pockets. ..Hear that? God. my feet hurt. I need to get different shoes. Your

Victor is pretty coot:· She looked around the kitchen. ··rm starving. Are you having dinner with us?"" Amelia shook her head. Why hadn·t she noticed the

Kleenex in her hand? Amelia reached out and caught sara·s hand ...Sara:· The sight of her eyes. moist and bright. caused Sara to sit down. She leaned toward

Amelia. taking her hand. Amelia began to cry. Looking at her face. There was something she wanted to say. to tell her. Her shoulders began to shake as tears rolled down her face. What is it? What has happened? Daddy? Ben? Where's

Momma? Oh. She ran down the hall bursting through the door of her mother's room. The bed was unmade. a pile of clothes thrown carelessly on the end.

"Momma?" But the house was too quiet and she had known it when she had first walked in. Her mother never left the mail on the edge of the table like that. The one from Raleigh. Amelia's hand on her shoulder. They turned toward each other and embraced. Neither stopped the flow of tears down their faces or bothered to wipe them.

"I guess she was going to see your Aunt. They don't really know exactly

57 what happened-on the bridge."

.. What are you saying? What are you trying to tell meT She put her hands over her ears. pressing her palms against her head.

"Sara."

"Where is she? I want to see her. I want to see her now. Amelia." She thought of something. "You didn't see her? Did you? Did you see her?"

"Yes. They called me right away. Please. mejita. I have to sit down.

Please sit with me. We can go later." Numb. Her brain had shut down for a while with a sign that said CLOSED FOR INVENTORY. She had to find Ben.

58 Chapter Five

God had the nerve to send a rainbow the day they buried her mother. It

appeared suddenly. across the sky. in one perfect unbroken arch over the east end

of the cemetery. a full spectrum in which all the colors. red. blue. yellov.· and

orange could clearly be made out. He had the graceless irony to make it

complete. brilliant enough so that even Dorothy could have found her way back

home. Tico saw it first. pointing to it. Amelia thought it was a sign. but Sara knew

it was because it had just rained.

She used to talk to Him. alone at night. from her bedroom window. where

she had a clear view of the sky and the bright dot of Venus hanging suspended in

the moonless night. Now she talked directly to her mother. I like the restaurant.

Georgia is really sweet. but I hate her husband. I think Ben is living in the hippie

camps. I don't get my period anymore. but don't worry: it's not what you think.

The casket she had picked for her Mother was white with brass trim. It

was as stylish and elegant looking as the Sunday hats the Bahamian ladies wore to

church. It was really more fancy than Sara thought her mother would have

preferred but there weren't a lot of choices. The funeral director. a broad man

with a perpetual look of sympathy on his glistening face. dressed in a tight blue suit with perspiration stains under the armpits. introduced himself. I'm Mr. Clary.

so sorry for your loss. he had said before leading her into a small windowless room. where several caskets were displayed on white podiums. a makeshift

59 morgue gallery. Their top halves were hinged open. showing the satin linings. light and white. in jarring contrast to the glossy gleaming outer shells colored in burgundy. gray and black. She dismissed them as too masculine. Too cold. too plain. too dark for her pretty mother.

They should have mannequins in them. she thought. for the full effect. He looked at her strangely before she realized she had spoken aloud. and suggested that perhaps she would like to sit down. So she sat at a pine table scrawled with indistinct scribbling. where a child might have accidentally gone off his coloring page. Mama was here: Kilroy is dead. she might add. as she held a folder marked

Clary Funeral Home pretending to select a style. If you abbreviate Funeral does it become Fun:?

There were three price levels. She picked the deluxe one because it had a gold rose emblazoned on the top. He handed her a box of tissues while he asked her some questions. He asked her where her father was. He"s on the ship. Oh. he said. that"s too bad. You don"t have to decide now. he said. you can bring someone with you. You called me. she told him. Yes. but. I didn"t realize. rm okay: she lied and told him she thought the white one might do. She saw then with the acuteness that comes sometimes in a moment" s opaqueness. how he must hate his job. He never looked her directly in the eye as he spoke. And she thought how terrible it must be to stand before a total stranger and have to face their bereavement. their confusion. and their total disconnection of the moment.

He seemed to want to help her. She felt at that moment more sorry for him than

60 she was for herself.

She shook the limp hand he offered her. holding in her other a piece of paper with the price of her mother· s coffin written on it. There were no benches so she sat down on the steps outside the funeral home. underneath a blue lilac tree and bawled. hot. sweaty and congested with tears. wondering what she should do next.

Six carried her mother into the church: her father. Ben. her father· s commander. Julio. Tico and Mr. Perez. They walked in unison. with the same step forward. step up. step forward. as though they had practiced. Following behind them were Sara and Aunt Faye.

She had to resist the sudden impulse that came to her. startling her in its absurd intensity. telling her to run after them. to rip off her new white sandals. run after them. pound on her mother"s coffin. and shout until she had no breath left.

Where are you taking her?

The image of the people sitting in the rows of wooden pews inside the one room church. was neither sad nor despairing to her. but seemed to be some indistinct backdrop. an anist" s rendering of bystanders. painted in black and white. their tiny dot faces flesh colored. The Navy chaplain. dressed in his formal blue uniform with two gold bars at his shoulder. was speaking words unintelligible to her. sounding distoned or muted. as though he were talking underwater. But she knew the words were moving because the sound of people clearing their throats. random sniffling and outright crying could be heard coming

61 from the mirage of mourners behind her. She looked again at them. stiff in their best clothes. Near the back. she saw him. staring straight ahead. Victor. He had come. Where was Michael? Had Julio told him? The preacher's words came more clearly.

Touch her mother. hold her hand. feel the pressure of her mother·s palm in her own. Her body ached with the need. Take my hand. Take my hand. Her hand raised slowly. hand outward. palm pressed high. Touch me. Amelia's face streamed with silent tears. She brought her hand back to her side. fists now clenched: the welcome stab from her nails buried in her palm. Feel that? Feel the diversion unsatisfactory because the invisible hand that had wrapped itself around her heart. squeezed. She coughed. Coughing. Tears. Coffin.

Her mother. surrounded by marble and in a concrete garden etched with anonymous names and dates. Odd and unkind. the airless vault in the stone garden now held her mother. One last time. Let me touch you one more time.

Her hand outstretched. reaching. Reaching for her. "Momma." And the silence in her heart interrupted by the preacher's words which held no comfort for her.

Later. the telephone rang steadily: call after call answered by one of the dutifully mourning friends who had gathered in her house after the funeral. She wished they would leave. She was exhausted and wanted to go to bed. She wanted these people to get out of her house. to stop drinking from her mother· s blue china cups and leave her alone.

She moved through the house as though she had been filtered of laughter

62 and words. purified from emotion. and now. a specter. disconnected from them.

and their sympathetic conversation. She felt she was the intruder. stemming their

flow of compassionate words about her mother by her inability to respond to

them. If she closed her eyes long enough. when she opened them. they would all

be gone. and it would just be her. Make them all disappear. Make them go. Make

them leave. Instead she found cups for their drinks and plates for the food that

everyone had brought and served them. Potato salad. Fried chicken. Coleslaw.

A lady from her mother's garden club- why couldn·t she remember her name­

stopped her. putting her hand around Sara·s shoulder. \\:here it hung freckled with

sunspots. flesh-gone fingers sparkled with bright gold rings and colored stones.

She tried to extricate herself. repulsed at the sight of the hand on her like an

enormous glittery spider moving across her chest. Don't touch me. Don't make it

real. rm so sorry. she kept saying. Sara nodded her head as if to say thank you.

Thank you. What was she so grateful about? They were pulling out her blue

china cups from the cupboard. No. Not them. Don't use those. They're for

special occasions. She was always afraid to use them. that they might break.

She wanted to find her father and Ben. to have them near her. But there

were too many people inside. so she walked out. to the backyard. Her father was

standing with his back to her. He looked taller in a suit ...Daddy." He turned around slowly. as if he had just awakened from a deep sleep. Rip Van Winkle.

back after all these years and afraid to move. The light from the porch cast a shadow on his face. making it seem more angular. The look in his eyes was

63 terrible as if he had been told to keep the most horrible of secrets that threatened to damage his soul. She flung herself at him. knocking him backwards putting her arms around his neck. He smelled like aftershave and cigarettes. He put his arms around her. smoothing her hair. patting her shoulder. I know. baby. I know.

Make them leave. Make them go. They'll break her things.

Someone. maybe it was her aunt. helped her to bed. took her clothes off. put her blanket over her. Where was Ben? She looked for him but hadn't seen him since the funeral when he had stood immobile. dutiful as a soldier boy. except for the tears streaming down his face. unwiped. as still as the ston~ blanket covering her mother. She only pretended to sleep waiting for the noise from the people to end so that she could get up. The house was dark .

.. Daddy?" He doesn't hear her.

He was sitting on the bench in front of the walnut Baldwin. the one he inherited the year his parents' Buick slipped off an incline of Lookout Mountain in a rainstorm. His hands rest without moving on the top of the cover. his fingers apart. Beneath his skin. bluish veins spread like the branches of an Elm in the fullest days of spring. His back is arched forward. curved inward to the body of the piano. His head nods slowly from side to side. in beat to some internal rhythm. Mesmerized by the sight of the hands that have begun to moved slowly across the cover. playing the hidden keys. she cannot move from the door's threshold. Hands that held her head above the water when she was three and learning to swim; hands that curled around her mother's waist in a family

64 Christmas picture: hands that move restlessly across the cover: hands clasped together over the brass and white box that held her mother: hands that waved goodbye from an elevated gangplank of a Navy frigate: hands that held a rifle that killed a man in Vietnam: hands held in absence. Oh mother dear. See here. See here. Hands that slowly lift the piano cover and move unhesitatingly over the keys. playing a song remembered from her childhood nursery rhymes. She stepped backwards out of the house. closing the screen door carefully. She ran across the Perez· yard. stumbling across Tico·s bike. scraping her knee on the fender. She got up quickly and ran into the house. Ben was sitting on the couch with Tico .

.. Daddv." She is out of breath. her knee beginning to sting .

.. What is ir~·· Ben got up from the couch toward her.

.. Come with me:· He looked for a moment as though he might refuse.

The music reached them from across the yard. Their mother began their lessons. and then transferred them to Mrs. Bishop. ··He·s got an ear. that one:·

Mrs. Bishop had told her mother. But he had refused to practice. while she had spent every afternoon for an hour before lunch. struggling. unable to reproduce the sounds. The notes beckon them. The door is open. The only light in the room comes from the glow of the full moon that slips in through the living room window. The shift of her father·s posture lets her know he is aware that they have entered the house. They stand at an angle to his right. Her father's hands travel across the keys. Sara feels the skin the back of her neck began to prickle.

65 Ben begins to tap his feet. She wonders how long he has been playing. An

hour. or two? His back is straight. He is sitting with perfect posture. The song

he plays reminds her of her grade school ballet recital. when she and all the other

young swans would tumble around on scratched wood floors and move in and out

of sync to the music. Oh. mother dear. see here. See here. We"ve lost our

mittens.

She realizes she is smiling. Ben claps his hands. Can you clap to

Beethoven'? She began to dance. Suddenly she remembers all the positions she

has learned as a child. First. foot slightly forward. Second. both feet outward.

Third. her feet remember what her memory has forgotten. You naughty kittens.

you·ve lost your mittens.

Ben stood in front of her. mimicking her elementary movements. The

cuckoo clock begins to chime-l-2-3. stopping at 12. Her father plays through the

chime of the cuckoo. His eyes are closed now. Ben continues to hold her hand.

dancing her around the room. She looks up to see their father watching them. He

has begun a smile. a tentative movement of his lips. His eyes are bloodshot. His

shoulders heave from the force of the piano or his sobs. Where is this trio· s end?

Oh. mother dear. see here. See here. we·ve found our mittens. Ben edges closer

to his father and drops down beside him. Father makes room for his son. now grown taller than he. Their contrast. one dark. one light. with backs. one held

rigid. one slumped. Her father·s hands begin to slow. Ben touches one key.

lightly. then another. Then. he puts both hands to the keys. and the father drops

66 his left one to rest on his knee. They begin to play together while she. steps back into another comer of the room. Yet the moment has in it an indefiniteness. a suggestion or possibility that it might. perhaps. last forever.

She can smell the fragrance of the vanilla orchid that climbs alongside the window. where one skinny stalk has crept through a crack in the window that has never fully shut. She cannot keep her sobs inside. Oh. mother dear. See here.

See here. When you see love. can you recognize it'? Inside her. her mother" s love. her mother·s touch. her smell. her voice. and her hair. And eyes clear blue penetrate her dreams. permeate and cause her to wake up sweating in the middle of the night. See here. See here. Her father"s hands drop to his lap. while Ben continues to play. In a soft baritone come the words of her mother"s favorite song. She remembers what her mother has told her. of his father and his church. was built on a hard comer of of Lookout Mountain. Where her father used to sing and play the piano when he was six. Who left his father· s house one angry and sullen night. stepped off his porch step in Palmer Tennessee. crossed the Alabama state line and met a blond girl at the Fort Rucker recruitment office. Who adored

Nat King Cole. Her father·s voice comes to her. The words to her mother's favorite song.

A blossom fell. From off a tree. It settled softly on your lips you turned to me. They gypsy say they know why a falling blossom only touches lips that lie.

He stopped playing. At the stop of the music Sara stopped. We are

67 neither ostriches nor cranes at all. but flamingos. Communicating in some unseen way. we move exactly the same at exactly the same time. We are fully synchronized in this moment. and connected. See. we cry at the same time. We move at the same time. He stopped playing. We stop at the same time.

''I'm leaving. I 'm sorry. But I have to go." He lifted his shoulders as though the weight of his decision had been lifted.

"Now'? When'?"

"Friday?"

Ben rose abruptly. slamming the keyboard cover down. The sound reverberated. startling the bird. which began to chirp. "And us'?"

"I've already talked to Amelia. I only came back-because-

"-because of her. right'? Not because of us. We don't need a fucking babysitter. We've done okay so far."

"Can't you delay it. or something? Ben. shut up. I mean. Jesus Christ. didn't you just fucking get here? Can't you give us a month. or a few weeks. or one more Goddamn day. Dad'?"

"You know why he's leaving. This is probably just as good a reason as any."

He looked at her. She couldn't face the unevenness of his expression. He drew back his hand. hesitating in mid-air. Sara watched it spiral downwards in an arc. slowly towards Ben. The slap caught him on lower part of his right cheek. filling the room with a hollow sound as though it had met bone only. His face

68 paled. devoid of color. except for the red imprint across his cheek. He stared at their father. from eyes that were like bruises in his white face. dark. the pupils covering the irises entirely. Their father looked at his hands. turning them over and over. as though they were unfamiliar to him .

.. Son-·· Ben backed away from him. raising the flat of his hand in front of him.

..Don·t say it. Don't... He turned around and left the kitchen. Her father stood in the middle of the kitchen. rm sorry. She wanted to sav to him: instead she turned and went into her bedroom.

"Don't ever hit me again. Do you hear? Don't ever. You're mad at the wrong dude."

"Ben-"~

"No."

Ben was asleep. his body facing the wall. He looked at his son's sleeping body. in repose his expression unmolested by worry and wondered if he had ever looked that young. He looked at his son· s head and felt an imperceptible flicker of fear begin in the bottom half of his stomach. the faintest signal begins. The one to lead you into or out of danger. He thought about

Gilando and the day he had gone to meet his mother. He smelled whiskey on

Ben·s breath. as his mouth parted slightly. drawing in tiny puffs of air. He knew he should have felt something else. pride. or something better than that. but he didn't. His son moved in the bed. coughing slightly. the sound punctuated his

69 thoughts. as if to betray him. He looked at his watch. He had to go. She would know. because somehow she was always able to sense before a thing actually happened. and was not easily surprised. Goddamn it. What had she been doing'?

How could she let it happen? What would she say to him'? Bad timing. You should have waited. Wasting time. now there· s none left. Going to look into your face. and stare at it. long enough. until I see it there. Thanks a lot. old man.

70 ChapterSi~

At night when she couldn·t sleep. she would open her window. and lift her head into the inky night. a caricature of faithless prayer. and talk to her mother.

She didn·t want Ben to hear her cry. so she stuffed the comer of her sheet into her mouth. until the taste of it made her gag. and she could hardly breathe.

Sometimes she would take a shower. feeling relief as the hot spikes of water hit her body. And she could pretend in the shower. that her mother might be just outside. putting towels in the closet. or in the kitchen. making dinner. Too tired afterwards to dry herself or get dressed. she slipped naked between the sheets.

She was in her room one night when she heard someone come in. ··Aunt

Faye. •) ..

··Ifs me:·

.. BenT

.. Yeah'? .. She could see only the outline of his body. standing in the doorway.

She patted her bed ...Come here:· He didn·t respond ...Come Ben:·

She felt her bed shift with his \Veight. He sat on the edge. with his back to her. She began to rub his back. whispering to him. It's okay. It's okay. He turned toward her and she hugged him tightly. He clung to her in the \vay the baby instinctively abandons itself to its mother. When it knows it is loved. She put her arm across his chest and turned faced the wall to fall asleep.

71 She had managed to convince herself that her father· s leaving had been a good idea. She wasn · t sure how much longer she could have stood the sight of his face. the skin that stretched across his cheekbones. taut as leather over a drum. tight with tension (or sadness). and pretend that he was okay. She felt guilty to have to admit to herself it was almost a relief that he was gone for a few weeks because it was much easier. when he was not around. to not confront the subject of her mother. They had been able to avoid it altogether. almost. except for the morning she had come to the breakfast table wearing her mother" s pink quilted housecoat. She had forgotten to remove it before she left her bedroom. and he had turned a\vay from her so abruptly. the look of hurt in his eyes so acute. that later she had taken it off and stuffed it into the trashcan.

The Cuban woman found her way into her dreams again. She came off the boat holding something in her arms. The baby pulled at her breast. When she turned to face them. it was the face of her mother. She woke up. with her eyelashes wet from tears. She tried to go back to sleep. to will herself back into the dream. wanting to see her mother· s face again. It had been so clear in the dream. The shape of her mother·s face. her eyes. wide opened. startling blue. her lips in a half-smile. as though she carried with her some secret. Where did you go? Maybe it would have been better if she believed what she had been told at church. that her mother·s soul still existed. somewhere. and that it was only her body that lay beneath her gravestone in the cemetery. Turned to dust. She's been returned back to earth. A time to live. A time to leave.

7'2 Ben was sleeping with his arm across her chest. It felt heavy and hot. She moved it carefully as she got out of the bed. In her mother's room. the material evidence of her mother remained. to remind them. her. Her closet full with clothes. She stood in the closet surrounded by them. She inhaled. They still smelled like her. She though she could smell her mother's perfume. and something else. A staleness. When things have been left too long. undisturbed. collecting their own memory. and their own smell. Yesterday. while taking a shower she had used the last of her mother's shampoo. She stood underneath the sprayer. letting the water run over her body. the hot wet water soothing her. her tears intermingling with the water from the shower. indistinguishable in their soothing of her body.

She sorted through the clothes in her mother" s closet. pulling dresses off hangars. She sat cross-legged on the floor of the closet and began to fold them.

She found some tissue leftover from last Christmas and wrapped some of her blouses. the ones she had worn on special occasions. It didn"t take very long.

The smell of her mother· s presence was strongest in the closet. The scent of her perfume still lingered on some of the clothes. Even the faint smell of cigarette smoke on some of her shirts remained. She held up a long green skirt. The one her mother wore to the Christmas ball on the ship last year. She held it to her waist. It would be too short for her. She threw some things out. in a black garbage bag. the things that she knew her mother always hated. Like the cardigan a cousin from Ohio sent her one-year for Christmas. There was never any

73 occasion to wear it-sweaters in Key West?-but her mother wore it for one day. because she couldn't bear to lie when her cousin asked her how it had fit. She picked up a red sundress. the one her mother had worn at Sara· s first regional track meet. when she was fourteen. That morning her stomach was queasy and she couldn · t eat. Her mother tried to get her to eat. picking up pieces of toast and trying to feed her.

.. Here:·

.. Mom. My stomach's upset."

.. It's going to be worse later if you don't put something in it. Just one bite forme."

Why hadn't she'd eaten the damn toast? Her mother wore the sundress. putting it on. laughing... You won't be able to miss me in this." And later. that afternoon. when she looked toward the stands. she thought she might have seen her. She had gotten a good start. though. and was able to find her rhythm in the split second after the starter gun cracked. As she rounded the comer with only a half lap left to go. her eyes drifted to the side of the field. but the sun glinted across the aluminum stands sending spikes of reflected light making it hard for her to telL

Sara put the sundress on. The waistline came to just below her breastbone. and was ridiculously short on her. She looked at herself in the mirror.

She took it off. She was standing in her bra and panties when Amelia walked in .

.. Sara?" Amelia appeared in the doorway of the closet. She hadn't heard

74 her come in. "I saw the truck outside:· She looked at the bundles of clothes that

Ia y scattered on the floor. "What are you doing honey?"

"Nothing.·· Sara stood up. kicking some of the piles beneath the dresses that hung in neat rows.

"Here. let me help you with this."

"No. Amelia. It's okay."

"Come on. honey. you shouldn't do this alone."

"Why not Amelia? Why nor? They're just clothes." She started yanking shirts and blouses off the hangars. Amelia· s hand was on her arm. "Sara:· She brushed it off. "Amelia. could you please go? I need to get dressed. It's okay. I want to do this."

"Okay. but later. hmm'? Come help me move my couch."

Her house was as familiar to Sara as her own living room. The walls were painted light blue. almost the exact shade of the eggs produced. as if by magic. laid by the Japanese silk hens on Aunt Faye·s farm. a pale translucent blue.

On one wall hung round copper plaques that depicted rural scenes from

Chile: a vaquero riding a bucking horse. a somber-looking man and woman from

Pucon. a campesino driving an oxcart. with the sharp peak of the Andes looming behind him. They were souvenirs picked up the year Amelia and Carlos visited his parents. six months before he had died. A crucifix. crudely carved in unfinished wood. hung on the foyer wall. just above a metal mirror. tiny scallops finely hammered on its silver frame. It was a room that was welcoming. warm.

75 like its owner.

Amelia was like a bird in a continuous flurry to build its nest. rearranging the furniture in her house constantly. enlisting the aid of Julio or Tico. or sometimes Sara.

.. Where do you want itT

Amelia put her finger to her chin. and then pointed ...Over there. what do you think·? ..

.. Good. then you can be closer to the window if you want to read or something. Okay. let's go:· They positioned themselves at either end. Sara lifted her end up first. trying to relieve most of the \veight away from Amelia· s end. but it \Vas heavier than she expected. From Amelia·s lips came a sound. a half­ squeak. and she let the sofa drop. abruptly. causing it to scrape Sara·s finger. who yelled out.

Amelia sat down on the sofa... Ay. por Dios. mi espalda. No deberiamos hacer eso sin ayuda. Estas okay"?

.. Amelia':'··

.. Si? ..

.. You·re speaking Spanish:·

.. Oh. rm sorry." She patted Sara on the leg ...I used to do that to your mother all the time. She would never tell me:· She sighed .

.. I know.··

.. How are you lately? I haven·t seen you much. rm so sorry. I should

76 come over more. The bakery has been so busy--··

"I know. Are you cooking something?..

.. Oh. no. the flan! Come! ..

They ran into the kitchen. Amelia grabbed a dishcloth. opened the stove door. pulled out the pan of custard and slid it onto the counter. The acrid smell of burning caramel filled the kitchen .

.. Oh. too late:· She clicked her tongue. ··1 didn·t add enough water to the pan:·

.. Sorry. Amelia:·

.. Oh. thafs okay. Well. lefs taste it anyway:· They removed the soft inside and put it on a plate. Amelia handed her a spoon. took one herself. and they ate the wasted flan together. standing at the edge of the sink. Except for the burnt caramel on the bottom. its texture was intact. smooth. and creamy .

.. If s good:· Sara said .

.. After Carlos left. I slept on the couch because I couldn·t stand the sight of the bed. I could smell his cologne. sometimes I think I still do. One morning. I woke up in my bedroom. During the night. Tico and Julio had moved me. [ couldn·t even remember it. I was so mad at them. But they told me. no. mama. ifs not right for you to sleep on the couch. So. after that. I slept in our room again. You have to take the time until it feels right to you. You will know when that will be. mejita. [have a good idea. Come with me to the center:·

"No. I need to work."

77 The woman selected the booth nearest the jukebox. She dusted off the seat carefully before settling herself generously onto the lime colored seat.

Having just come from the hairdresser (who had been unsuccessful in directing her toward a more flattering color). her mood seemed to be sour. She looked around. swatting at a fly hovering around her powdered top lip. At nine. the restaurant was only mildly busy. a bottleneck of customers emptying a half-hour earlier. The sight of the waitresses standing in a trio next to the coffee machine brought a color to her cheek. She raised her ann. Sara approached her table reluctantlv. having recognized her from her mother's garden club...... - - .. Good morning:· She hoped she sounded sincere. Mrs. Michael John St.

Johns. who never forgot a face. racked her brain. Sara waited. holding her pencil poised calmly above her pad .

.. Would you like to hear the specials?..

Without opening the menu. Mrs. Michael John St. Johns shook her head. causing the folds of skin beneath her chin to dangle precariously close to her neck. ..Bring me a cup of tea. lukewarm. and an egg toast:· Sara nodded and turned. Booths that had been fully occupied only a few minutes prior to her arrival were half-filled according to an economic hierarchy. Everyone knew his place.

The shrimpers sat in the booths nearest the doors. thankfully. too since the smell from their clothes competed unfairly. Victor had complained. with the aroma of frying bacon and eggs. The Cuban girls. dressed for work in colorful cotton shifts

78 sat huddled. four to a booth. talking. using their hands. where enormous fake bands dangled. accentuating their Spanish and broken English. Then there were the odd booths. one of which Mrs. Michael John St. Johns occupied center front.

Sara came back a few minutes later. depositing a plate with a piece of toast topped with an egg, sunny side up. perched on top. Mrs. Michael John St.

Johns watched approvingly as she carefully laid the plate just to her right. She noticed the ring on Sara's finger.

"Are you new'?'' Sara nodded. hoping the response would satisfy her. But

Mrs. Michael John St. Johns. as though she sensed victory within her aged grasp. smiled a tiny smile. the kind that had kept gleefully naive suitors at bay when she was sixteen. pushed her plate aside and began to speak. Sara sighed. She wanted to start filling the shakers before eleven. so she could leave early.

"What's your name?"

"Sara Bailey."

A mixed look of comprehension and self-satisfaction appeared on her face. "Are you related to that sweet little Frances'?"

"Yes." Sara silently demanded she stop talking.

''She could tum out a rose. couldn't she'?''

Sara's face felt hot. Shut up. she silently pleaded with the \voman. \Vho continued to ask about her mother.

"-She worked at the immigration center. too. didn't she? I've been meaning to start a reading program-you know-[ think it might be helpful to the children to

79 hear proper English spoken-"

Sara felt a hand on her elbow .

.. Hello Mrs. St. Johns. How·s your breakfast'? .. Mrs. Michael John St.

Johns turned her attention to Victor. raising one unevenly plucked eyebrow .

.. Not too bad. Victor. She was certainly a lovely woman-like her

daughter-that uniform flatters you so much. dear.··

Sara backed herself from the table. pulling off the apron. leaving it to fall

on the floor. Henry tried to get her attention but she ignored him. He looked at

her in silence. His face was an odd color: it reminded her of her mother's cherry

armoire. It was neither black nor brown. but a warm rich reddish color. When he

opened his mouth to speak to her. she turned around abruptly. and left with the

stain of his eyes on her back. Outside the air was damp and heavy from the

earlier shower. It would have been better if it hadn·t have rained. She breathed

in. wanting to rid herself of the smell of the woman· s perfume. which lingered. as

though it might have permeated her uniform. Her mother would have laughed. or

mimicked her ...\Vhy darling. you sure know how to grow your roses. don·t you·?

Up in Virginia. where rm from. we seem to have a little bit harder time than that.

Laugh. Sara. She would say. She"s harmless.

But the woman·s voice. ragged sounding. as though it might have first

struggled reluctantly over one too many niceties before being released from the cavernous confines of her mouth. echoed in Sara·s ear. She heard someone behind

her. She continued walking without looking back.

80 "You forgot your tip." Victor was behind her. holding out his hand .

.. You·ve got to be kidding."

··oon·t worry. kiddo. I poisoned her biscuits.••

.. She didn·t have biscuits. She had toast. Egg Toast. And anyway. my mother couldn't stand her. She was such a busybody. And silly."

.. Silly biddy:·

"Where did you get that'?"

Victor looked down at the bicycle built for two. "It belonged to Mom and

Dad. They still rode it sometimes. can you believe that'? Even up till last year:·

.. It's kind of cool. Let merry:·

"Front or back'?" At her look. he shrugged his shoulders. holding the bike toward her. gesturing toward the front seat.

"Never mind. Why did you pick orange anyway'?" She pointed to her dress.

"Orange'? That's pink."

"Are you color blind'? It's not even tangerine. It's just orange. really bright orange."

"Sorry. it still looks pink to me. I confess. then. You now know my first secret.·•

.. You are colorblind. Which colors can you see'?"

·The primary ones-red. black. yellow. white. blue. though red can be a little tricky. as you know:·

81 ··If you·re color blind. how do you know you·re really seeing red. or yellow?'"

··How do you know if what you call yellow is yellow? Or red is red?""

··What color is that?"" She pointed toward the sky.

··slue. What color is that?"

··Green.··

··so. we can distinguish the sky from the grass. That" s a good sign. probably:·

"Come to the party tonight."

··I don"t know. I don·t think so. I won·t know anyone:·

··you "ll know me. And. it might do you good to get out of the house. We would like you to come."

"Victor."

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for letting me go. Back there. I just had to get out. you know·?"

"It's okay. Believe me. I understand."

The houseboat was easy to find. docked in one comer of Garrison Bight. next a dozen others. She looked for the one with the loudest music and the most people around it. It looked almost identical to the rows of white painted clapboard houses that could be found in almost every neighborhood in Key West. except this one was floating next to a pier. A faded wooden replica of an Indian

8:?. stood outside the front door, which was open. People spilled out of the house. onto the deck and around the dock. She was beginning to change her mind about corning when she saw Victor talking to someone. He waved her over. He was wearing a blue smock and jeans.

"You made it."

''Nice shirt."

"Thanks." He fingered it. "Blue. isn't it?"

She laughed. "Yeah. Very blue. Is Georgia here·~"

"She was. She gave someone a ride home on her bike. I couldn't tell if she was coming back. Do you want to go inside?"

"In a minute. It's nice by the water. though."

"That's the thing I missed most when I moved to Cincinnati. There were a lot of ponds. but it just wasn't the same."

"Not big enough?"

"Too still."

"Let's get something for you. Beer? Wine? Coke?"

"Beer."

Inside the room was dark. a strange contrast to the light outside. Victor went into a tiny narrow room that looked like a miniature version of a galley on a ship coming back with a Budweiser in his hand.

"Here you go."

"Whose boat?"

83 .. A friend of mine·s. Well. it's actually his sister's but she doesn't use it anymore. He paned the cushion of the sofa he had sat on ...Want to sit down?""

.. Who· s that singing?""

.. Edwin Star. Your old man·s in the Navy'? ..

.. He· s on the Gilmore:·

·Thaf s quite a boat. I spent the night on a Sub one time. Well. we weren·t exactly officially invited:·

.. No red carpet for you'? ..

.. No trumpets. or tarnished bugles. either. Beds are uncomfortable as hell. .•

·They don· t call them beds. you know:·

.. Shit. I know. I learned that much at least. Racks. I wonder if that's because of how they feel."

"Maybe how they are all stacked. In racks. On the walls. Stacks of racks on the walls."

"Drink another beer and say that faster ten times. I dare you."

"Are you going to share that'?"

"Why not'? I am very generous. by nature." He bent from the waist down in an exaggerated motion. handing her a joint... yes. m·am.·· His fingers lingered on hers as she took it from him. She thought how easy it was sitting with him. wondering why she didn't feel self-conscious in the way their knees touched on the couch. He was humming the song again. She began to feel the effects of the

84 marijuana. She felt the boat shift.

"Are we moving·~"

"Yes. definitely. It's just the tide coming in."

"It feels good. But I'm not sure I could sleep here. I don't know how my father stood sleeping on his ship for six months."

"Tapes. beer and liquor. not in that order.'

"Is that from experit"nce?"

"Not really. I was in the army. though. I didn't last long. Apparently I have a small thing with my heart that they didn't find at first. And if I hadn't gotten the flu. it would have been sooner.'' He began to trace circles on her knee .

.. Where's the bathroom?''

Without taking his hand off her. he nodded to the back of the room. "Down the hall. first left."

The bathroom was a tiny cubicle off the living room. She went inside and locked the door. On the top of the white porcelain commode was a figurine of a little building that had .. Outhouse.. written on a door. Behind the half door was a man wearing a goofy looking grin. There was a moon shaped cutout on the door.

She opened the door and a little pink plastic penis popped out. with \Vater running out of it into a little cup. in a fountain of piss. When she came out she took a wrong tum. The room to the side was dark. Someone was sitting on the sofa.

"Victor?"

"Meow."

85 "Who is it?" She started to back out but someone grabbed her by the legs.

She fell on the sofa in the lap of the man. He put his arms around her. His breath reeked of beer and cigarettes.

"Stop. Leave me alone." He pressed his weight on hers. She couldn't breathe.

"What the hell are you doing?" She felt someone pulling at her. She recognized his smell. "Victor."

"You okay'?" He turned the light on. A man sat on the sofa. looking perplexed. His pants were down to his ankles. He cupped his hands in front of his crotch. He looked sheepishly at them. "Sorry. Though you were someone else."

"Put your pants on. man." Victor turned the light off. taking Sara by the hand. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

At night the town was different. Night sounds seemed more amplified.

As they walked the middle of Southard. they heard conversation corning from inside the houses.

"Let's cut through the cemetery." They had to scale the wall before they could get around it. Victor stood behind her. pushing her as she lifted herself up.

From the wall. the tops of the buildings from the abandoned cigar factory on Duncan were visible. There was pungency to the air that reminded Sara of the special potting soil her mother had used in her garden. smelling faintly like disintegrating chicken shit.

86 They stood. walking lightly. carefully. because the ledge was so narrow.

Clouds crossed the night sky. moving quickly across the crescent moon. giving them enough light to see. She had always been comfortable in the darkness. even as a child. Ben couldn·t sleep without a night-light but she had always slept more soundly in the dark. The light disturbed her. She always thought it was because the night-light illuminated the things in her room. exaggerating their proportion. so that a coat hanging from the door became a witch ready to spring on her. If there were monsters underneath her bed. she decided it was better that she not see them first. What good would it do. anyway'?

They shuffled along the edge of the wall. their moving bodies casting distorted shadows across the wall in a strange and awkward dance. like people paper cutouts .

.. Did you hear that'?.. Sara stopped to listen .

.. Listen.·· A figure moved about fifty yards from them. stopping occasionally to bend over the gravesites .

.. If s Shellshock:·

He was dressed in cut-off army fatigues. with a duffel bag swinging across his hips. He looked up at them briefly. and nodded.

They watched him kneel down before a gravesite and take something from his bag.

..He·s putting something on the graves. Let's go see:·

There was enough light from the streetlamps to read the inscriptions of the

87 monuments and tombs. She had memorized most of her favorites. I Told You I

Was Sick. Our Little Hippie. She was pushing aside ivy from one. trying to read

its inscriptions when she saw Sam ahead of her.

He had stopped in front of a carved angel that stood across a small grave.

Around him were monuments of all sizes and shapes. some decorated with statues

of lilies. wreaths. roses and ivy. She looked up to find him standing in front of

her. She moved backward from him instinctively. but he ignored her reaction. He

stood close enough to her so that she could see the picture tattooed on his right

forearm. It was a picture of a cobra encircling a woman. its flat head resting above

the woman·s. the snake's tongue protruding. His mouth was almost completely

covered by the overgrown beard on his face. He began to speak suddenly.

-Ifs not the melody thafs hard. Thafs just notes strung together. It's the

correction you see. Knowing when to hold back. or when to let go. See'? .. He

looked at her. this time. as though he recognized her. Goose pimples formed

along her arms as she watched him. She couldn·t tum away from him. barely

hearing the words he spoke. He stopped talking as abruptly he had started and

dropped to the ground. He curled himself around the tombstone. He moaned .

.. Hello?"" He continued moving on the ground.

Above her. clouds crossed the moon. leaving them in shadow for an instant. She felt suddenly as invisible he must when he walked around the street during the day. surrounded by a sheet of strangers. He stopped moving and lay still against the stone. She knelt down quickly. bringing her hand out to pass

88 over his mouth. When she felt the warm drafts of air coming from him. she stood

up. Placed on the gravesite he had just left. was a gardenia flower. still attached

to a branch. This legacy left by the Catoosa Indians begat one tiny ghost. John

Joseph Martin Moore. who wanders up and down the lower Keys looking for his

family long dead. though naturally. Even John Joseph. with his five-year-old

head bashed against the fencepost doesn·t know this. That's his cry you hear

sometimes. on the tenth of June. looking for his mother and father and his baby

sister. who have managed to hide themselves behind the rows of canned tomatoes

and peppers. and so have escaped his own sad fate. Hello John Joseph. you want

to \vhisper sometimes at night. while walking down Caroline or Olivia. When the

wind slips through the tangle of bougainvillea branches. raising them. up and

down. Sometimes you·re afraid to stop because if you do. he might catch up with

you.

Ben opened the door when they knocked. Sara was conscious of Victor's

presence behind her as she got them something to drink. He was close enough

that she could smell him. a mixture of freshly showered clean combined with some woodsy-smelling cologne. She almost dropped the beer. as he came around her and opened the refrigerator door ...Thanks." His eyes were brown. the color of the amber stones in a necklace her mother used to wear. He returned her stare.

"So. how's biscuits?" Ben pulled up a chair. between them .

.. Good. We need more help. You don·t really want to hear this. do youT

89 .. No. rm just trying to be polite. Can I have something to eat-:'"" Ben looked around the kitchen.

··sure:· Sara replied. making no effort to move.

··What's your problem-:' Are you stoned?"" Sara looked at him closely.

Ben gave her a goofy grim. putting his face right in front of hers. His breath smelled like marijuana and beer.

.. Knock it off:" Sara pushed him away.

"So. Victor. how's work'?"

··You just asked me that. Anyway. you have more important things to think about. rm sure:· Ben scooted his chair next to Victor. putting his elbow against his. He picked up his beer. --can I have this-:' .. Without waiting for an answer. he brought it to his mouth. He drank loudly. burped. and then put it down.

"That" s disgusting:·

.. Victor doesn"t seem to mind. do you? You don"t mind me sharing. huh. man.•) ..

Victor picked up his beer. handing it to Ben. "It's all yours."

··You know. I realize this is none of my business-but-..

Sara interrupted him ...Then don't say anything:·

.. I gotta say. you really look comfortable sitting there. You like my sister·~ ..

.. Yeah. I do ...

90 .. Grow up Ben. Jerk:· Sara removed the plates from the table. throwing them into the sink .

.. Ouch. she barks:· He pointed at Victor... You know it looks like you·re finished with dinner. and. uh. I could be wrong. but I don·t think you·re getting dessert tonight. so why don •t you go now?" Sara slammed one of the plates. breaking it into pieces in the sink.

"Do you have to fuck up everything"? I mean. can't you just leave things alone"?"

"What are you trying to say. sister'?"

"You know."

Ben got up and walked toward Sara. who was leaning with her back to the stove. Ben tripped on the way to her. stumbling into her. Victor moved between them. putting his hand on Ben· s chest.

She walked out the door to the back porch. slamming the screen behind her. She heard them talking. A few minutes later. the screen door opened. and Victor came out and sat down next to her. He took her hand ...You okay?"

She shook her head. ··No. I want him to go. He·s so out of control sometimes. you know'? My mother used to cover up for him all the time. She never told my Dad half the things he did. He lost the first job he got in less than a week. He was working at A&P stocking shelves. and the manager let him close the store one night. I don·t know why he let him. I guess he liked Ben. Anyway. after everyone left. Ben cleared out all the shelves of canned food and built this

91 huge pyramid out of the cans. right in the front of the store. like some crazy

Egyptian food pyramid:· She shook her head. ..It must have taken him half the night. Unfortunately. the managerdidn·t think like it the next morning when he couldn·t open the front door. Mama had to talk them out of calling the police.

What?"

··rm sorry. but it is kind of funny:· Victor was trying not to laugh. She punched him Lightly on the ann.

She reached up to kiss him. surprising him ...I don·r regret anything. I just want you to know that.··

He hugged her... You don·t have to say that. But. I guess rm happy your father·s not around right now. You know I hope you don·r think-··

.. I don·t think anything:· She glanced back toward the kitchen ...And I don·r really care what he thinks." They spent the next few moments in silence. sitting in the darkness of the backyard. Inside the house. she could hear Ben in the kitchen. banging pots. singing Loudly Victor yelled through the door .

.. Good-night. Ben.··

There was no answer.

.. Maybe I should go. Maybe nor:· They heard the sound of a car engine.

"He's gone. I guess."

They sat facing each other in the bed. She helped him take his shirt off.

She kissed him gently on his chest. across his nipples. down his stomach. He took

9:! her hands and held her wrists, while laying her across the bed. She wondered if he could see the beats coming from her heart: they must be visible to him. He stroked her back. She fell asleep with his touch on her.

There was a knock at the door. She looked at him, lying naked in her bed.

A tattoo of a dragon snaked down his back. She went to answer the door and found Tico standing there.

"Julio said for you to come to breakfast."

When she hesitated. he said. "Thar's okay. He can come. too."

Ben and Julio sat across the table. heads clean-shaven showing virgin scalp. chins unkempt. Julio rubbed Ben's head. "Man. you are bumpy. Not like me."

"Ben! Your hair!"

He grinned at her but it didn't fool her. He jerked his head back when she tried to touch it.

"Where·s Amelia'?"

"She left already. She's mad at Julio. Ouch. Stop it. Julio:·

"Oh. she's more than mad at Julio. I feel bad for anyone coming today expecting iced donuts. They" II be lucky if they get any at all. My head's pounding. man. You got any aspirin'? Shit. what did we doT

"What did we do? Your idea. and you're asking. what did we do"? We showed up at 101 Grinnell at 8:00 o'clock this morning, and now it's twelve­ thirty, I'm starving to death. and I ain't got no more pretty curls."

93 He sat down and put his head on his arms ...Shit. man. what did we doT'

Julio was scrambling eggs. wearing one of Amelia's pink aprons. and

whistling. Tico sat at the head of the table with a plate in front of him.

''Who wants eggs'? ..

.. He put green peppers in them.··

'That sounds good. rn have a little. No. thafs too much. take some off:·

··rtl take a little more:·

.. No you \Von 't. brother. you feeding a worm in there?""

.. God. I hope these are better than the blueberry pancakes:·

··oh. he makes pancakes. Julio. I feel deprived. You don·t do anv of

these things for us:·

.. You're complaining'? Careful. or rll tell Sara what you do with your

dirty underwear...

··No. please don't. [don't really want to know:·

.. What about the pancakes'?'"

.. Julio went camping with me and Ben at Pennecamp. Julio was in charge

of the food. All he brought were these bottles of pancake batter. They were so

gross:·

.. You cheapskates didn't give me any money. It was all [could afford."'

.. Anyway. he left them out and they were supposed to be refrigerated. Ben and [wouldn't eat them."

"They were green. man:·

94 ''Julio ate them and spent all day puking. We spent all day snorkeling:·

Tico burst out laughing.

"Oh. Julio. man. that"s too bad. Thanks for the warning. Sara."

"Can you give me a ride to work on your way our~··

"Yes. princess. you may have a ride in the Iovebug:· Julio bowed lov,,..

"You know whose pancakes were the best? Your mom· s:·

'Thanks. Tico."

Hey. did you hear where they found Mrs. Martinez's husband·~ ..

"I didn't know he was lost:·

"Well. he wasn't exactly. He was just stuck."

"Stuck?"

"Yeah. He broke into the movie house and climbed up in the rafters ...

"What?"

"He wanted to see a movie that badly'? Jesus."

"Maybe they were playing an X-rated."

"No they weren't. It was some movie about this guy who goes ballistic on everybody."

"I was just kidding. Tico."

"Oh."

"So what happened to him'?"

"I don't know how he got himself up there but I guess he was afraid to get down. Someone heard him yelling. I don't know- someone at the restaurant.

95 Anyway. Mama thinks he was on something:·

.. What do you think he was on. brother'? ..

.. I don·t know. maybe LSD or pot or something:·

.. How did they get him down? ..

.. Oh. they just threw a smoke bomb and he jumped down:·

When they cleaned up. Victor doing the dishes. Julio danced with the broom and

Tico cleared the table. she looked at Ben. who tried to avoid her glance.

She pointed to streak of blood on his neck. ..Does that hurt?""

He shrugged. ..Not anymore:·

.. Why would you do that'? You didn·t have to."

.. I don·t know. I was dropping Henry off-Victor asked me to give him a ride. because his bike broke-on my way back-I passed the NRO. and ... I just pulled over. One minute I was driving down the street. and the next. I was stopped sitting on the fucking shoulder of the road. across the street from the building. I must have sat in the fucking car fifteen minutes:·

.. For her'~ You think that's what it'll take'? What. exact debt do you think you owe'? ..

.. I didn·t do it for her. Sara."

She moved her chair back from the table. "Shouldn't we get to the restaurant'?"

"Do you want me to go in first'?" Victor asked her. as they stood outside the entrance.

96 "No. I don't care."

She tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. but it was no use because the chime at the top of the door clamored out as usual. announcing her entrance as effectively as if it had gone over a loudspeaker. The restaurant was packed. and

Georgia. Irene and Cyndi. looking harassed and busy. were practically running to their tables.

"Take table ten. they" ve been sitting awhile:· Georgia called to her. raising her eyebrows at Victor. He started a conversation with the man sitting at the counter. Lately. there were only two real topics anyone seemed interested in discussing: that Paul had quit the Beatles and Nixon had sent troops in to

Cambodia.

.. Okay:· She walked to the table to take the order. Later. after three hours of solid walking back and forth between the tables and the kitchen. she sat down with Georgia and Irene to take a break. Georgia pointed to the door and

\vhispered ...Uh-oh:·

.. What'? Who· s that'?'"

He was standing in the doorway with another man who seemed to become more and more animated with each passing syllable. Victor was gesturing. pointing to the parking lot. Their voices were raised. attracting the attention of the few diners that remained in the restaurant.

.. [told you not to come in here. Go on. get out." When the man didn"t respond. Victor yelled in the direction of their table ...Georgia. call the police."

97 The man held up his hands ...Hey. I don"t want any trouble with you. I

just want to talk to Cyndi:·

.. Well. she doesn't want to talk to you. so go. Now:· Victor moved his

body forward. waving his arms at the man as if he were swatting a fly .

.. Don·t touch me like that. guy. I mean it:·

.. Get out of my restaurant:·

Cyndi. who was taking an order from a middle-aged couple. her thin face

the color of rice paper. suddenly dropped her pad onto the table and ran to the

bathroom .

.. If you're smart. Einstein. you'llleave now:· Victor hadn't shifted his

position. and stood staring at the man. who had begun to look around him. He

started backing out of the doorway. waving his hands. From the window. they

watched him climb onto a battered looking black and chrome motorcycle. kicking

up gravel and dirt in the parking lot as he spun off. rll be back. shithead. the tires

screamed back at them.

Sara followed Cyndi into the bathroom. She was sitting on the edge of the toilet in one of the stalls. trying to light a cigarette. ..He· s gone. Are you okay·? ..

.. Yeah.··

··was that your husband?'"

She nodded. wiping her nose with tissue she pulled from the roll attached to the wall.

98 ··I told him to leave me alone. He came over to my sister's last night. making so much noise they called the police on him. It didn't do any good. He came back as soon as they left:· She rubbed her hair... He just won't leave me alone:· She tried to light her cigarette but her hands were shaking too much .

.. Here. let me help you:· Sara took the matches from her. lit one. and brought

Cyndi's hand to the flame. steadying it so she could light the cigarette.

'Thank you:·

.. Is there anything I can do'? You want some aspirin or an~1hing·? ..

The smile she gave Sara was unexpected. She was used to her sitting alone during her breaks. But in that moment. her face was transformed into what it might have been. plain but sweet-looking. before resuming its usual stoic. flat look. the contrast somehow making her seem even sadder than before ...No. honey. my head's not hurting right now. If II be okay ...

Irene opened the door. poking her head through. ··y-all having a party in here?"

99 Chapter Seven

The pounding on her door woke her up. pulling her from a dream she

couldn·t remember. peppered with an array of nameless faces. Her mouth tasted

sour. from the night before and she was beginning to sense an impending pain at

her temples .

.. Sara. get up! It's almost nine. Come on! .. He pounded her door again .

.. Stop it. Ben. r m coming:·

He had poured two bowls of cornflakes and placed a container of milk on

the table. She sat down opposite from him. He looked fresh. had the bright

persona of the eternal morning person. as though he awoke singing. He had

turned on the transistor radio on top of the refrigerator. the one her mother had

listened to in the mornings as she prepared breakfast for them on their way to

school. .. I shot the sheriff... But I did not shoot the deputy .. :· He was singing

along to the radio as he poured milk into the cereal.

.. You were a real jerk last night. you know that don·t you?"

He hung his head in mock shame. Then looked up and brightened... But

look. I made you breakfast:· He handed her the paper. .. Here. want the paper? I

haven·t even read it yet:· She looked around the kitchen while she ate her cereal.

It was spotless. clean dishes hung in a wire basket next to the sink. to dry. A small blue and white Coleman cooler lay in the comer.

100 ··How long have you been up'?''

··since five. Couldn't sleep:·

She looked around the kitchen. ··r can see that:·

··okay. eat up. we gotta get going if we're going to be back before three:·

"Let me fix my hair." She went into the bathroom and splashed her face.

She bent down and tied a bandanna around her head. Her hair fell in soft honey colored curls around her face. She had promised she would help him bring in his crab traps today. because Ernesto. the pockmarked Cuban boy who worked for him. had to go to Miami.

The boat was damp from de\\·. She helped him clean the seats. wiping them down \Vith a cloth he gave her. Her mood improved the farther out they traveled.

By twelve they had finished bringing the crabs up. or the ones they could find. They worked in silence. occasionally he pointed to one of the floats. and she would know to pull that way. He had taken his shirt off and was sweating. fine beads of perspiration on his stomach. around his neck.

"I think that's about it. You want to eat now'?" He looked so happy sitting on top of the cooler. eating one of the cheese sandwiches he had prepi.Ued for them. She wished she could capture this moment in memory. to store it for later. the sight of him sitting. relaxed, eating. The sun was warm on their faces. the wind blowing lightly around them. The color of the water. this close inland. was more turquoise than blue. The waves in the brilliant light of the sun.

101 reflecting the color back in diamond-like shimmers .

.. Remember the time we took the boat to Fort Myers? Hew old \vere we?

I 0. II T He asked her. tearing off pieces of bread and dropping it in the water.

.. 10 ... Their father had just returned from nine months from the

Mediterranean Sea. And her mother had been seasick the entire way. causing them to stop every hour or so. so she could get her equilibrium back. her face pale. trying to be cheerful. leading them in a round of limericks when she felt better.

.. You·ve changed. And I don"t mean what you think. I don"t care about that stuff. I was a little drunk last night. well. okay. a little stoned. too. but Victor is a good guy. Anyone who can put up with Julio"s shit for four years has to be okay. Anyway. I want to tell you something. Something rve been thinking about. I can·t seem to shake. you know·? ..

··what are you talking about? What's going on?"

.. Pete and some of the others. are planning to take a trip and r m thinking about going with them:·

··where you going?""

.. North Carolina-Was that a dolphin?-nah-""

··can you please get to the point? You·rejust like mom:·

.. Pete has a cousin who owns a boat near Wrightsville. He said they·re always looking for people-··

.. Why way up there? You mean the rest of the summer or something?

102 Did you tell Aunt Faye?..

.. No. Ifll be cool. you know. we·n take Pete·s van-··

..What do you want me to say? I thought you were going to Miami. thaf s

what you told Dad. I mean. shouldn"t you-.. What she wanted to say is. how can

you leave?

.. Everything·s changed now. Who knows what will happen when they

close the base? I don"t even think Dad"s going to be sticking around for long:·

..What do you mean?"" It hadn ·r occurred to her that they might leave .

.. Come on Sara. he"s got no reason to-there·s not going to be anyone here ..

.. You don"t know that-did he tell you something'?..

He looked irritated suddenly .

.. You know things are different? You have to move on. That's what rm planning to do:· He spit inside his mask and rubbed it around the face. ..I can ·r explain it. but nothing feels the same. Even out here. ifs as if rm waiting for something to happen. I don"t like that feeling. Ifs making me crazy:·

.. It sounds really strange to me. Why \vould you want to do that? You don't really know those people:·

.. Well. the choices are to go to school or be drafted. And I think I eliminated at least one of them the night of the demonstration. Well. not legally.

Look. r m trying to work something our:· He ran his hands through his hair and she saw for the first time he was serious. Thev watched two seagulls fight for the . ~ ~ bread he had dropped over earlier. She turned to him ...Why did you call her?

103 That day. Was she coming to pick you up'? .. He must have seen the expression on her face. the naked look of hurt. and the desire to want to know what it had been like for her mother that day.

He shrugged his shoulders. looking away from her as he spoke .

.. No. I was going to tell her about going up to North Carolina. I didn't want her to come. but she said she wanted to pick up some pineapples Aunt Faye had for her. Isn't that stupid?"'

.. Yeah ... She felt disappointed and suddenly wanted to cry .

.. He blames me.·· He whispered ...you do too.·· He threw the rest of his sandwich overboard .

.. 1 don·t:·

Her response came too late: they each knew it. His face collapsed. lost all expression as if it had been a chalkboard that had been prematurely erased. She couldn't hide behind her words: pretend that it wasn't what she had meant. She tried to change the subject. ..Do you have an extra mask'? ..

.. Hang on. let me look:· He lifted up the seat next to her. picking through the items stowed below it. He came up with a blue mask. adjusting the straps as he handed it to her... This should be okay, might be a little leaky. Never mind.

I'll take this one. Here. use mine ...

.. Okay ... They hadn't been free diving since before her mother's accident.

They used to sneak around and do it. because it had always made her nervous.

They even loaded the boat sometimes with the tire shaped oxygen machine.

104 attaching the thick black hose to their masks. the old fashioned kind that their father had gotten for free from some of the other Navy divers. But it was still cumbersome. being attached to the apparatus that remained on the boat. while they swam. with the breathing tube connected to them like an alien umbilical cord. So they rarely used it. preferring instead to free dive. only attempting twenty or thirty feet at a time. They had both learned it from their father: it was second nature to them. For the natives. it was the preferred method for bringing up lobsters.

Ben dove in first. his body breaking the water cleanly. His head popped up a few minutes later. and he shook it back and forth. slinging water. ·· It feels great. Come in." He changed his expression to one of exaggerated fear. ·· Oh. no.

Sara. something's got-··. His head dipped unexpectedly under water. She was still sitting in the same place when he came up a few minutes later... Hey. I'm telling you there's something-"

.. I don· t care if they get you. Here. shark. come and get him. Never mind. they'll probably be poisoned by all that booze you drank ...

.. That's cold. See you under." He disappeared beneath the water again.

She could see the yellow color of his swim trunks as he descended.

She jumped into the water. It was warm and clear. They had anchored just before the main drop. where the clear warm water of the gulf was less than fifty feet. giving them plenty to look at. It took her a moment while her eyes adjusted to the water. She reached out her hand to touch a fish as it skillfully swam away

105 from her. She could see Ben brushing aside a sea coral that swayed with the

current of the water. its pinkish red fingers. fanning out around him. She felt a tap

on her shoulder. She turned around to see Ben holding the squirming body of a

tiny lobster. its body squirming. He nodded to her and pointed up. She watched

him go up. catching the sight of his black fins. before he disappeared.

She was getting a little dizzy. her head starting to feel heavy. so she knew

she needed to go up soon. Water from the mask had started to leak into her eyes.

She closed her eyes and ascended. kicking with her feet to propel herself up.

Breaking the surface of the water. she looked around for Ben. He wasn·t on the

boat. She took a deep breath. and went back down again. Something glinted. His necklace. She reached for it. feeling the heavy weight of his body moving toward her. With the sound of her heart pumping in her ears. she clasped him underneath with her right arm beneath his armpit. He was too heavy. She couldn't move.

She felt the start of panic when she began to think how long he must have been under now. two minutes'? Three'? Oh. God. The water was coming under her mask. She couldn't see. Help me. Her ear tingled at a sudden rush of cold water.

Who is it'? Her lungs were bursting. I need to breathe. For a split second a horrible thought came to her. Leave him. No. No. The water filled the mask. She felt the cold water again near her ear. Kick. She began kicking. wrestling his body upward. His eyes were closed underneath his masks. as though he were sleeping. He wasn ·t hard to move. until they reached the surface and she panicked when she realized she couldn·t get him onboard. She tried boosting him up.

106 swimming underneath his body. like a dolphin. to try to lift him out. but he was too heavy. Somehow she managed to grab the rope of the safety ring. pulling it toward her with one hand. His head kept falling forward into the water. and she had to stop to lift it back out. She couldn't tell if he had a pulse or not. She was feeling dizzy by now. exhausted by the effort to get him on board. She tried to not look at his face. at the pallor of his skin. She tried the ring again. this time it looped over his head and neck. giving her a break from the full brunt of his weight. She was half supporting his weight by leaning against the boat. She managed to get the ring around his middle. Then she boosted his body over the boat. where he lay. crumpled. She scrambled aboard the boat. pulling at him. until he lay on the deck. face down. She had an uncontrollable desire to laugh or cry. she couldn't tell which. But she ignored her mind's fragile desire to panic. when she knew she had to make sure he was breathing. But somewhere. a voice urged her to scream. Instead. she pounded his back. over and over. massaging it. saying aloud ...Come on. Ben. Come on."

She turned him over and put her mouth on his. breathing and counting. breathing and counting. But she couldn't remember the CPR rules. so she just kept breathing and praying. in between giving him a breath. praying. please God. breathe. please God. breathe.

From his lips came a sound she had waited for. a noise like a pipe draining. then another gurgle. She turned him over to his side. His mouth opened. he vomited. He started to cough. but with hardly any force. She pumped him on

107 his back again.

His lips and the cleft below his nose were more gray now than purple.

She stopped to press her head to his chest. She tried not to breathe herself so she could listen. A white gull flew overhead. squawking. Another bird flew overhead. She looked up.

Ten or fifteen pelicans appeared off the bow. hovering over the water with the huge span of their wings flapping in a synergy of winged motion. a white flock of noiseless fisher birds. They perched atop the crested waves. white- feathered Buddhas. Can birds walk on water? Another seagull flew directly overhead attracted by the sight of the pelicans. She slid off Ben and thrust her hand into the pail of fish bait next to the seat.

··you want to ear? Here. motherfuckers. eat ... She screamed at the birds. flinging handfuls of the wet fish over the side of the boat. which only incited them more. "Eat. Eat. Eat." In the swirl. one bird flew directly in front of her. so close she could see the its eyes. beady and black. She reached forward to grab it. knocking over the pail. The bird and a half dozen others flew at her feet. trying to get at the fish. She heard a sound. low moaning. She turned around to see that

Ben had moved. from his opened mouth. a stream of liquid poured. She ran to him and knelt down next to him. wiping his mouth with her hand ...Ben? It's okay. .., .. Ben. His eyelids drooped. the eyes beneath. unfocused. seemed to be covered in some filmy material.

She jumped off him and called the emergency frequency. The voice on

108 the other end asked her for her location. She couldn"t remember. It was as

though her mind had gone blank ...I don't know." She sobbed into the receiver.

'The pier. Near the pier.··

.. Which side~·· 'The Gulf:· God. it was the Gulf. Then she composed

herself long enough to read the number of Ben· s boat. She ran back to Ben. kneeling down beside him. His body felt so cold. she lay on top of him. trying to cover him with her own. She was in that position when she heard the sound of a

boat. She jumped up. waving her arms madly. as though she were landing a jet on a tarmac. screaming at them.

She started shaking when they boarded the boat. two uniformed Coast

Guard officers. who immediately r.m over to Ben. The surge of energy continued throughout her body. starting with her legs. then moving up toward her chest and arms. She had to sit down. the shaking was so intense. One of the two wrapped a blanket around her. .. Is he okay?""

.. Yes. he's gonna be okay:· She believed him. God. she believed him.

And she began to thank God. thank you. thank you. the words coming through the chatter of her teeth. Underneath her woolen shroud, her body shivered uncontrollably. like an alcoholic in the involuntary throes of a detox shake. She looked over at Ben. They were getting ready to transpon him to the other boat.

He lay on a stretcher, prepared like a Christmas Ham, bundled. taped and wrapped. waiting to be delivered to the hospital. She couldn't even see his face.

But she heard them say again to her. He's okay.

109 At the hospital. she waited in a cubicle. trying to be helpful to the person sitting behind a desk. holding a pad and pencil. asking her questions. No. I don"t think he"s allergic. I have to call my aunt. Can I use your phone'? He·s on his ship. Howard Gilmore. Captain McMillian. No. that's his CO. Can I see my brother now'? (No. he's sleeping right now).

What dreams does he have'? Where is her mother'? In Sunday school. she was taught that the soul lived forever. That seemed :.1 little long. But she had a vision of her mother·s gravesite and a gray dove flying overhead. Was her mother there. watching from somewhere'? \Vould the pain that no\v gripped her chest. causing her to gasp for air. like right now. her eyes bright form unshed tears. go away'? The colors in the hospital ranged from white. to off white. back to white. The world outside could have been colorless too. though the sky she knew to be brilliant. hadn"t she seen it onlv a few hours ago'? She wondered if . ~ they had gotten in touch with her father·s ship yet.

Finally. they let her see him. Everything about the room was pale. gray or white. And the steady hum of the machines. the tube in his nose. the caricature of warmth in the thin blankets that covered him. all devoid of color. He"ll be okay. the nurse made a point to tell her each time she came in to make an adjustment to the machines. turning a dial or unkinking a tube that led to his nose. so that after a few hours spent sitting in a yellow vinyl chair with chrome legs that she had pulled next to the window, she had began to believe her and had relaxed.

110 somewhat. her position in the chair. bringing her legs up. knees to her chest. It helped that she could hear the sound of Ben· s breathing. even over the sound of the machines that hummed or beeped or clicked. squarish gray boxes from which tubes attached to plastic liquid filled oval shaped bags that in tum were attached to a tube that lay next to his skin. and then. to a two inch needle. lying half hidden inside the pale blue of his vein. ··one is for his antibiotics. so he won· t get pneumonia... Cheerful Nurse

Sara trusted her immediately.

Dear Mom, Ben screwed up again. We discovered that. actually he doesn't have gills. and he"s not a fish after all. nor an alien

Click. smile.

Ill waking up?). Click. disappointment.

It was cold in his room. Why is it always so cold in hospitals? It"s not as though many of them are up to complaining. especially on this floor. she noticed.

They had put him on the senior· s floor. because there was no space on floor three.

So. the corridor was relatively quiet. though she knew it was a forced hush. an artificial quiet brought upon by the visiting relatives somewhat intimidated by their surroundings. and the quiet. unassuming manner of the nurses. who moved in and out of the rooms with efficiency and purpose. Occasionally. from her seat facing the door. !they always left the door open. she noticed). she glimpsed the elderly patients shuffling down the hallway. from behind. their gender made indeterminate by the nondescript back of the hospital gowns they all wore.

Probably, they were on their way to the bathrooms. some of them even wheeling their own mobile IVs connected to it via their vein. shuffling the stainless steel unit beside them as if they might be taking it out for a quick walk around the block. It seemed like a lot of trouble just to go to the bathroom.

ll:!. Had it only been a few hours? Aunt Faye hadn·t even arrived yet. One of the nurses suggested that she run down to the cafeteria and get herself a bite to eat

(Nurse Cheerful). Sara didn·t tell her that she was afraid to leave the room. to leave him alone. in case he should wake up and not find her there.

··you want to go get something to eat? Get up and walk around for awhile?" The nurse had asked her again. telling her she was gong to bathe him.

Startled by the thought of seeing her brother naked. she had said okay. She found the cafeteria. purely by accident. having given up after accidentally going through double doors marked radiology. She had gone through a pair of double doors and there it was-a large room with long rectangular tables. She went through the line. picking out foods. an apple. a piece of pie covered in saran wrap on a white plastic plate. She got to the cashier and realized she had no money. As she rummaged in her pockets. hoping to find some change. the cashier. a tiny Oriental lady. stared at her with no expression. and she heard someone behind her say. ··ru get that:· She turned to see a man dressed neatly. wearing a white v-necked cardigan with a green stripe-who looked vaguely familiar to her. He paid for her food. took his own tray and followed her to a table .

.. Thanks again:· He nodded. and finished preparing his coffee. putting three packs of sugar into it. She felt shy to eat in front of him. He was watching her.

..you· re the girl from Victor" s restaurant:·

.. Yes." She remembered him as the customer who had ordered buttermilk

113 the first day. "He's an excellent carpenter. He built my bookcases. out of

Aorida pine. beautiful. work of art ...

"Oh. •· It was strange to think of Victor. bent over. with hammer and nails.

constructing bookcases.

"Are you visiting someone here~" He asked her.

"My brother. He's been here since this afternoon. He had an accident."

She could tell he wanted to know more but that he wasn't going to ask. and she

found that she liked him for that. "How about you'?"

"My mother· s been here for awhile. She has a bad heart." He laughed. a

strange laugh. "I hope you don't mind me saying this. but you have unusual hair.

l've only seen that color one time before." She wasn't sure what to say. she

thought for a moment he was going to lean over and touch her hair.

What was it about hospital settings that invited personal revelations

between total strangers? Was it easier somehow to confide in a stranger your

innermost fears rather than face the aftermath or backlash from a trusted friend.

She only had known him fifteen minutes. and he was telling her about his family. didn't seem to mind that she had asked him.

"Do you have a family·~ Brothers and sisters·~"

"I used to." His laugh was dry. humorless. and ironic. "Well. I guess I still do. though what passes for a brother. I call my self anointed caretaker. I had a sister one time. too. Her hair was about the color of yours. probably why I remembered you. Everyone else is dead. though she was dead a long time before

114 we actually buried her. Well. some families have better timing than others. Not

ours. unfonunately. When you need them. they're not around. and when you

don't want them around. you can't pay them to leave:·

She had the feeling of easy familiarity when you meet someone for the

first time. that somehow he understood. knew how to read between the lines.

Aunt Faye might have pointed to some kind of past life re-connecting. That they

must have known each other in a previous life. She thought it might be that experiencing trauma is like emptying the bucket of emotion. leaving feelings in their purest form. so that they are easily recognizable to someone who has experienced the same. Or it was simple circumstance and that they ended up at the same place at the same time. They must have been sitting for over an hour. he was telling her about his first encounter with a Key West mosquito. making her laugh so loudly she almost forgot for a moment why she was there. The place was so quiet; it was conspicuous, any movement at all was noticed. so that when the door opened. they both looked up. They didn't realize their faces held almost an identical expression: of curiosity and slight dismay at being interrupted. Victor stood in the doorway of the cafeteria.

"Excuse me." He held his arms out to her. closing them around her when slipped in his embrace.

"I'm so glad you· re here.··

"I am too. I hoped you wouldn't mind. How is he·~ How are you~··

"I'm okay. He'll be okay, too. They had stopped just before the table. and

115 Sara realized she didn·t know the man·s name. He had stood up. looking at them expectantly. He extended his hand to them .

.. How you doing. Tom?"

Her father arrived after they had given him his last dose of antibiotics. She and Victor were sitting in the two chairs next to the bed. Ben had fallen back asleep.

"Daddy."

He was wearing his formal uniform. his whites. The beard he had grown was peppered in gray. Victor stood up. walking toward her father.

"Hi."

Her father took Victor's hand. shaking it.

Ben opened his eyes.

"Hello. son." Ben lifted his hand up. Her father caught it. ''I'm here."

Her aunt moved around the kitchen with the kind of unobtrusive grace tall people sometimes possess. without humming or talking; her movements. unassuming and spare. leaving Sara to sip her coffee and read an old copy of

Reader· s Digest. undisturbed at the kitchen table. They had both been up since seven; Ben was still sleeping on the couch in the living room. It was mostly quiet except for the steady hum of the refrigerator: the occasional crow of a rooster coming from somewhere in the backyard. and the sound of Ben· s snores. coming

ll6 steadily in four second intervals.

She was wearing a faded pair of overalls. the authentic kind. reinforced at the knees and covered in steel rivets. that had probably belonged to Uncle Bervin.

She had already been out. bringing back a basket filled with six pale blue eggs that had come from the Japanese silk hens she kept secured in a hatch in one corner of the barn. There was no vanity in the way she wore her hair. which was gathered in a little bundle behind her neck. tied with a rubber band. She stood behind Sara. placing her hands on her shoulders .

.. You want some more coffee?" She poured coffee in Sara's mug. and then sat down at the table. She picked up a delicate looking fabric. a string of white gossamer lace. from the pile of clothes on the table and and began to sew it to the bottom of a tiny doll's dress .

.. Okay ... Sara responded without looking up. She and Ben had gotten in late the night before and had gone straight to bed. Her sleep had been fitful. dreamless. She found herself waking up almost every hour. pressing the alarm clock on the night stand to find out what time it was. The sounds in the country were too different: the screech of mating bullfrogs and the incessant chant of crickets echoed in her ear all night long. Had she heard a car honk. or the whooshing of cars going past on Roosevelt. or even the noise from a badly hushed up argument between the Perez's next door. she might have slept better. Instead. she found herself craning her neck. as if listening for something. looking out the window into the night. with the perception of a blind man. its inky darkness

117 devoid of light and sounds familiar to her. She wanted to go home.

She put the book down and rubbed her temple.

··Good morning." Ben stood in the doorway. blinking his eyes. wearing a patchwork quilt gathered around his body like a toga. and yawned.

"Hey. Ben. How are you feeling?" Her aunt asked him.

"Better. I can't seem to straighten out my neck. though." He arched his neck. moving his head from side to side.

"You could have slept in the other room:· Sara said .

.. And listen to you snore all night? .. He sat at the table. holding up a doll's outfit. a yellow satin dress with puffy sleeves. out in front of him. 'This one· s cute. Prom night?" He picked up another. a blue velvet riding habit. from the pile on the table. ··ooh. Aunt Faye. I like this one ...

.. Well. Ben. I can see you have very good taste. Hand those over please. I need to iron them:· A few years after their uncle died. Aunt Faye sold most of the farm to her neighbor. a red-faced man from Norway who worked tirelessly alongside a half-dozen or so Bahamian men in the pineapple groves adjacent to her. To keep herself busy. she joined a traveling craft circuit. comprised mostly of a group of women. all either widowed or single. from her church. On weekends. they would gather in the church parking lot. fill a couple of U-haul trailers with a variety of homemade dolls. lopsided pottery, embroidered cloth picture frames, drip less rainbow colored candles, and hitch them to their

Chevrolets and travel up the Western coast of Aorida. stopping at fairs and

118 bazaars along the way. Aunt Faye's dolls. all with the same bright-eyed expression painted on their muslin faces. and wearing expertly sewn and intricately detailed clothes. were very popular: after awhile people began to call her at home to request one for their daughter or sister or mother. She didn't really need the money: Sara suspected part of the fun for Aunt Faye was getting the chance to maneuver the car and trailer in and out of traffic on the interstate.

After breakfast. Ben went out to the barn to take a look at the tiny hairless piglets that had been born the week before. Sara spent the rest of the afternoon helping her aunt iron the doll clothes. They were in her aunt" s bedroom when she decided to tell her she was going back .

.. rm going to head back today Aunt Faye:· Her aunt stopped sewing and looked up at her. but didn't seem surprised .

.. You think that" s a good idea. honey?"'

.. I don't know:· But she knew she had to get back, suddenly feeling an urgency to move ... rm going to go get ready. okay'?"

Her aunt nodded ...Well. you know where to find me, if you need me:·

She was in the spare room making up the bed when Ben walked in .

.. You want to come see the piggies:"

.. 1 can't. I want to take a shower:·

.. Sara. what are you doing'? ..

.. rm going home, Ben. What's the big deal?"

.. Well. I thought we were going to stay out here awhile. That's what Dad

119 thinks:·

.. Since when did you care what he thinks'? I have things to do. I need to

get back.··

.. To the restaurant'? Victor'? .. Last night. right before she had fallen ~ - asleep. the phone had rung.

"Yeah. that's right."

··well. rm going with you. You can·t stay by yourself:.

··okay. You could have fucking drowned. you know. for nothing. just goofing off:. She picked up a duffel bag and began throwing things into it. her clothes from the night before. her make-up kit ...Everything is one big joke for you:·

Ben sat down on the edge of the bed. with his back to her. His voice

lowered .

.. I felt its skin:·

.. What are you talking about?..

..That day. I was trying to get a lobster that had gone behind some coral so

I didn ·t see it at first. This shark carne out of nowhere. you know'? I didn · t even see it until it was so close I could see its eyes. It looked at me straight in the face.

I swear. and I couldn·t move. I wanted to touch it. just to see what if felt like-so

when it turned around. I put out my hand out-ifs skin was sharp. It should have hurt. But it didn·r. It felt good:· He shook his head ...I don·t remember what

happened after that:·

120 '\he put her hands to her head. her forehead beginning to throb ...Well. I remember very clearly:· She sat down on the bed .

.. 1 know you do." He stood up. ··rm sorry:·

.. You know. maybe you should go up with Pete:·

.. What?..

.. Nothing. Look. rm leaving after lunch:·

l:!l Chapter Eight

By the time she reached the library. the gate to the courtyard behind it was locked. so she climbed over. hiking up her the hem of her skirt as she jumped over to the other side. It was only about four feet high. and she was on the other side before anyone saw her. It was the beginning of twilight. so that the sun still streamed through the courtyard. casting brilliant rays of light across the stone benches that were situated within the protective enclave of thick satinwood trees and bushes. She found her favorite bench. the one farthest away from the back of the library and the street. in the comer shaded by a Gumbo Limbo tree. She had just settled herself on the bench and was watching an albino lizard run up and down the back of the bench when she heard a voice. She thought at first it might be one of the library employees who had come to make her leave. She looked up to see Tom standing in front of her. holding a bundle of books underneath his arm.

..Well. it looks like someone has found my spot:·

··You can sit down if you like:· She had no idea why she suggested it because it seemed to have slipped out of her mouth.

··Yes. that would be nice. If you·n just make some room:· He sat down. taking a white handkerchief from his back pocket and wiping his face. ··1 love it here. don"t you? Well. I can see that you do? How·s your brother?"'

122 "Better... She remembered his mother had been at the hospital the day

they brought Ben in. ··your mother'? ..

"Oh. she's at home. probably sitting around waiting for the next bout of

melancholia to overtake her. Then I imagine we'll be making another visit to the

Monroe County HospitaL Thank you for asking. though. So what brings you out

here'?''

"I don't know:·

··r know what you mean. Me. too:·

"What do you do'?"

"Nothing of consequence. I read and write a little. I stay out of my house.

mostly to avoid my mother:·

"That's terrible to say:·

"It's not so terrible if it's true. It would be much worse to say if it weren't

true. don't you think'?"

"Maybe. I don't know. I guess that's what they mean when they say the

truth hurts. Maybe lies are better. Maybe nor:·

"Somehow you don't look like you've had to concern yourself with either."

He brought his hand suddenly toward her as though he were going to touch her.

"At least I hope not. For now. anyway. Why do you look like thar?"

"I was thinking about something someone told me."

She spotted him walking down Heming. carrying a homemade looking satchel around his shoulder. She rode past him first. then stopped at the next

1:!3 intersection to see which way he would go. When he turned right at Margaret

she followed him. He walked parallel to the fence. his shoulders stooped over.

She saw him squat down. then disappear through the wire fence. She squeezed

through the tom fence and looked around her. It was past dusk now. and the

cemetery at night gave her the fullest view of the sky. and the sliver of moon that

shone above. There wasn "t enough light from the streetlamps to read the

inscriptions of the monuments and tombs. but she was able to see enough to

follow him. He had stopped at a small square plot. where a statue of an angel

stood with outstretched hands. Around him were monuments of all sizes and

shapes. some decorated with statues of lilies. wreaths. roses and ivy. She had

knelt by a gravesite. a piece of land. cruelly small. with a statue of a lamb at its

base. He looked at her. and turned around. without speaking ...Wait:· She

followed him as he walked up and down the plots. always stopping at the smaller gravesites. the ones where statues of angels or lambs were. Why did he do ir?

Had something so horrible happened to him that he paid his penance by his

nightly visits? She was leaving when she spotted him near the entrance. She had to pass him in order to go back out the fence. He was standing next to a statue of a woman dressed in a flowing robe. her hands clasped over her heart. When she walked by. he took out a flower from his bag and tried to hand it to her. Why"?

She wanted to ask. Did you know her? He continued to hold the flower. Who is she? What? What is that?

On her gravestone? A piece of cloth? Dark. with white spots. She moved closer.

124 kneeling down. Her mother's hat. Where had he found it?

By three the restaurant was mostly empty. the lunch crowd having left.

An elderly lady walked in. seated herself in the booth nearest the door.

.. You eating. Sara?"" Irene stood in the doorway talking to Henry .

.. yeah. I guess:·

··well. whatcha want girl?"" Henry waited for her answer.

.. Grilled ham and cheese'? .. Henry nodded and poured oil on the grill. He

started whistling.

Irene pointed to the table where the lady had just sat down. ..Here. take

her this soup:·

.. Okay:·

Sara approached the table. setting the soup in front of her.

.. Hi:· The lady looked up at her.

Her smile had the innocent expectation of a child. transforming her face in

its bed of wrinkles. and Sara remembered how she knew her. Her son had been

the preacher at St. Anne·s. where Sara and Ben used to go with their mother.

While Sara removed the extra place setting. the lady began to eat a cracker. She

broke it in half. shoving it in her mouth. Crumbs tumbled out of her mouth as she began to speak... His body. His body. His body." She picked up a spoon and sunk it into the soup. ..Blood. Blood. Blood." Sara remembered seeing her in her son· s church because she always wore a wide blue hat with a small bird attached to the

125 brim. She hadn ·t seen her since the Sunday they had celebrated the sacrament.

Her son had talked as two deacons passed crackers and grape juice down the aisle.

punctuating his words with a fist raised just above the pulpit. as if threatening to

make contact with the wood at any moment.

Drink from the Lord·s blood. Let his spirit shine through you. Sara

passed his mother the crackers and juice. She took a cracker. then. with unsteady

hands. took the silver goblet of juice. But she missed her mouth completely.

spilling His spirit all over her pressed linen suit. But what Sara remembered was

the look that crossed Pastor Steve·s face when he saw what his mother had done.

A look of annoyance and something more. flashed in his face. Just as quickly as the look had come. it had been replaced. as though he had switched masks in mid­ thought-mask of annoyance to mask of gladness. now beaming at them all through his mask of gladness. And to his mother he directed the fullest expression of his gladness. reserving for her that extra dose of pointed sympathy. to the one who needed it least. His mother had begun to laugh. erupting in a cackle at first until she doubled up in the pew. holding her stomach.

He continued to beam at his mother from his place at the pulpit.

Something in the way he had changed expressions so abruptly confused Sara. making her feel nervous suddenly. She tried in vain to suppress a giggle. It had only made it worse. Her mother. sitting next to her. had given her a bemused look. Ben began to laugh. When Pastor Steve turned long suffering eyes upon them. she broke out in a fit of giggles. joining Ben and the lady with the bird on

126 her hat. in a disharmony of laughter that filled the Church. Her mother sat stiffly

in the seat next to her. paging through her bible. trying to pretend all eyes weren't

on them. But after a few minutes. her shoulders began to move slightly. the

comers of her crinkling. She put her hand to her mouth. looked at Sara and shook

her head. Her eyes were bright with mirth. When the congregation began the

opening hymn to "Just as I am". they stopped laughing. It was the last time they

had gone to the Church.

The lady stopped eating. and looked up at Sara. "\\'hat did Daniel do"?"

.. Whar? Umm. did you want something to drink'? ..

She put her spoon down. then reached out and grabbed Sara· s wrist. She repeated her question. "What did Daniel do'?""

··sara. your sandwich is ready." Henry called out from the back of the kitchen.

Sara looked around her. Most of the patrons had left. Two servicemen dressed in khaki uniforms sat at a booth across from her. They were busy eating. with their heads bent down. In the back. Iris and Cyndi were seating themselves in a circular booth. getting ready for their break. Henry was trying to get her attention. waving to her.

.. Daniel was bad. You can't talk to God that way." Fingers squeezed harder around Sara· s wrist. Someone approached .

.. Hey. Mrs. Hugh." Victor put his hand over the fingers wrapped around

Sara's wrist. trying to dislodge them. ··How's the soup?"

127 .. Tell her what Daniel did:·

.. What did he do. Mrs. Hugh'? ..

.. He saw too much:· She shook her head from side to side. and then pulled Sara by the arm. forcing Sara to move closer to the table. Her hips brushed against the table. ..yes. Yes. He did:· She dropped Sara· s wrist. ..This is delicious soup:·

They walked to the back of the restaurant. where Iris and Cyndi stood smoking .

.. What did she say to you·? .. Iris was talking between mouthfuls of tuna salad .

.. I don't know. Nothing. really:· Sara sat down next to Henry. She moved over so Victor could sit next to her.

.. Crazy old bird. Never was the same after her son got killed:·

.. She·s not as crazy as you might think:·

.. Maybe she·s just lonely:·

.. Great sandwich. Henry.··

Victor stopped her .

.. Look. Why don·t you wait a few minutes for me·? Then we can go take a ride or something.··

.. I have to go change first:•

"Come to my place."

128 Chapter Nine

Victor's house was the last one on Olivia. It sprawled in inelegant grace.

nestled in a yard overrun with haphazard plantings of tropical flora; banana and

key lime trees. saw palmettos and untrimmed azalea bushes. A dense blanket of

ivy crawled and clung to the peeling planks of the house so that its original color

was obscured. Baskets of ferns hung from the porch ceiling. A rusted air conditioning unit rested halfway out of the front window singing a steady. if

uncertain-sounding hum .

..Just a minute:· She heard his voice call from somewhere inside. While she waited. she read a plaque on the door that said .. You·re Headed for a Sunshiny

Day". Victor opened the door. He stood holding the door open with one hand and leaned out. Standing bare-chested, and wearing a pair of faded jeans with his hair still damp from the shower gave him an unfamiliar vulnerability. A triangle of black hair converged around his belly button. He didn't seem surprised to see her. Gesturing with an exaggerated flourish of one hand. he opened the door wider .

.. Come in.··

''Hi." The smile he gave her suddenly made her feel silly for asking. She hoped he wouldn't notice that she had been crying .

.. 1 was getting ready to make something to eat." She followed him self­ consciously. stopping just inside the foyer. A picture of a couple dressed in their

129 Wedding clothes hung on one wall. The intimacy the picture declared suddenly made her feel artificially polite. as though she had just entered the vestibule of an unfamiliar Church sanctuary. She became uncomfortably aware of the noise her sandals made on the salmon colored Mexican tile. The house had the undisturbed quiet of the single person. so that upon first entering. it was understood only one inhabited it. No televisions blared in some unseen room; no toilets flushed elsewhere: no sound of companion footsteps sounded. lt was clear he lived alone.

She realized how little she knew about him. A smell. not unlike an unused closet. lingered in the air. An oversized mahogany hat stand rested against the wall next to an oval-shaped mirror. Baseball caps hung on the stand. bearing names from various teams- White Sox. Cubs. Reds. Dodgers. He stopped in front of the stand and took a black baseball cap and placed it on his head. He adjusted it while looking into the mirror. She stood directly behind him. His eyes caught hers for a moment. "Hang on." He said. then took another cap. turned around and handed it to her. "The Reds- my favorite team- .. She took it but didn't put it on.

"Want to hear some music?" She followed him into a room that was mostly bare except for an orange colored velvet sofa that stood in the middle of the room. and a chrome-colored stereo that backed against a wainscoted pine wall.

A yellow yield sign hung above the stereo.

His tape collection tumbled in an eclectic pile next to the stereo. Led

Zeppelin. Janis Joplin. Jimi Hendrix; Chicago. Earth. Wind and Fire. Waylon and

Willie. Sara picked up one. "I thought you didn't like country."

130 ··waylon and Willie are different.·•

.. you never let Irene change the channel...

He rolled his eyes. ··rmjust not that fond ofTammy Wyneue:·

.. Ben has this one too:·

··rll be right back:· When he left. she allowed herself the luxury of sifting

through someone else· s tape collection.

She didn"t hear him come back. When she looked up. he was standing

against the doorjam holding a cup of coffee and watching her .

.. Can I play this'?.. She held a tape of Stairway to Heaven. He took the

tape from her. kneeling down next to her and put it into the stereo. adjusting the

volume. He sat cross-legged on the floor next to her and picked up a tape .

.. I bought this in 1968 when I got back from Saigon... He tapped his

fingers on the floor. Sara began to rock back and forth. The movement caused her hair to fall partially over her face .

.. It was for Joanne:· She looked up at him. waited for him to continue.

··But she didn"t want it. Or me. either. apparently. When I came home. the house was cleared. bed gone. dresser gone. T.V. gone. Just a note saying the cat was at her mother's. ··

.. She took the cat?""

.. My car:· He shrugged his shoulders slightly. ··I came down here the next week when my father got sick. Somehow. I never it made it back. Too friggin· cold up there anyway ... He reached over and brushed the hair from Sara·s

131 face. tucking it behind her ear. Sara· s hand came up to meet his.

"Thanks.··

··oo you believe in Heaven?'" He didn"t answer immediately .

.. I used to be an altar boy. Does that count?"

.. No. Well. I suppose it depends on how serious you were."

.. Oops. Look. if you mean a place where angels sing in choirs and people

hang out in togas and robes. I don't think so. I just don't know how much it really

matters any more. If people want to think that. good for them. If it helps them

make it through the day. still good for them."

.. I got up yesterday because I heard someone in the kitchen. I was half asleep. but I knew it must be Ben or Daddy. Did you know he came home? I had the oddest feeling as I walked down the hall before I got to the kitchen. I had the

feeling if I could just close my eyes and enter without looking. that when I opened them again. she· d be there. You know? She· d be standing there, holding a cup of coffee. God-··

He leaned toward her and put his arms around her. She rested her head against his shoulder. His voice came like a rush of warm air against the back of her neck.

"When Joanne left. I was so pissed. At everything. And then one day. I don't know. I just woke up and I wasn't pissed anymore. It could have a day just like the one before. except that it wasn't. So. I decided you couldn"t really become too attached to things. you know? Not that you don't want them but you just have to know when to let them go. You have to accept that no matter what.

132 you can make it. still. I guess the hardest part to that is knowing the difference.

The things you need. and the ones you don't." He held her tighter. "You look like

her."

"What':!"

.. She used to come in on Fridays for lunch with a bunch of other women:·

He whispered.

"Really?'" She shook her head. "No. I don't. She was so beautiful."

"That's exactly what I mean."

It \vas odd to her that he should have a personal detail of her mother"s life.

one that she knew nothing about. The image came so crisply to her. made a quick

indelible imprint. the thought of her mother. sitting with her friends from the garden club. drinking coffee and smoking Marlboros. having lunch while she was at school. She wanted to have it linger. to stay with her. the sight of her mother. who laughed as easily as she cried. at her sentimentality in keeping Ben and

Sara·s homemade birthday cards in a pale blue hatbox underneath her bed. She knew suddenly why she had come here. instead of going to Amelia·s. Because he made her feel safe.

He cupped her face in his hands ...Sara- ..

.. Don·t say anything:· She felt a stir begin inside her. a wave of warmth that she welcomed. His hands on her face felt feverishly hot. He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. She reached out and touched him. stroking the tops of his thighs. His mouth was gentle and firm. She felt herself respond. He pushed

133 her on the floor and lay on top of her. kissing her face and neck and shoulders.

She closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them. she saw that a cat

rested on the sofa. and was staring at them with heavy lidded eyes. "Look:·

"Get out. Oscar:·

.. Oscar?""

··Joanne named her:·

.. 1 thought she took him:·

.. 1 got him back:·

Somewhere from the back of the house a telephone begin to ring. Victor

didn't move. "You should get that:· Sara sat up .

.. Yeah. probably:· He stood up, took her hand and pulled her to her feet.

She followed him down the hall into the kitchen. He nodded his head into the

receiver... Don't worry about it. Henry. I'll talk to you tomorrow:· He hung up

the phone and looked at her.

.. Well. cancel the boat ride. Henry's got to take his mother to the

hospital."

.. She okay'?"

.. Yeah. Come on. let's eat. I don't have to be in until ten." He had set the counter for two.

Sunlight from the windows crowded the room. He leaned over the counter and kissed her on the mouth ...You can stay here if you want:·

She shook her head.

134 ··smells good. What is itT

.. Egg frittata. Hope you like jalapeno:·

He spooned the mixture onto the plates. They ate in silence for a few

minutes .

.. When was the last time you saw her?'' Sara asked .

.. When she came down for the old man· s funeral a few years ago. Want

some juice or something?"'

··can I ask you something? ..

.. Yes:·

.. Have you ever thought about changing the uniforms?"" He laughed.

"What's wrong with them? ..

She looked down at her dress ...You know. The color:·

'"They're pink:· He scooted next to her... Let me see:· He pinched a

piece of material. bringing it up to his face. ..Looks pink to me:·

Light from the windows infused the room. reflecting off the pale yellow of

the kitchen walls. strips of light touched across the counter. down the stove. across their table and across his face. illuminating his face. accentuating the fine wrinkles at the crease of his eyes. He leaned forward to kiss her on the neck. The warmth of his breath caressed her. "Do you want to stay for awhile?"

.. Yes.·· The cat jumped on the counter. settling itself between their hands.

He pushed it away. sinking the flat of his hand into the eat's furry underside.

"Go. get down." The cat slid off the counter and promptly lay down at Sara's

135 feet. Sara took off her sandal and rubbed her toe against the fur on its neck.

136 Chapter Ten

She was in her room in her bra and panties. putting lotion on her legs when she heard the sound of a car pulling into the graveled carport. Thinking it might be Amelia. she walked into the hallway. in time for the door to open.

Daddy. She didn·t hug him. not because he wasn·t a bugger. though he wasn·t. but because it hadn "t occurred to her. until after he set his duffel bag down and looked at her. without speaking. as though waiting for something. Instead. aware suddenly that she wasn"t dressed: she had turned around and gone back into her room.

She had dreamed last night of her mother. She was in the kitchen. standing with her back to her. and waving a long wooden spoon. as though she were conducting an orchestra. or the symphony of pots and pans on the stove before her. She turned around and smiled at Sara. Her eyes shone. glistening wet. their color the same as the slender edge of blue that bordered the turquoise waters of the Gulf. Mama'? Are you okay? Sara wanted to ask her. Her mother suddenly knelt down on the floor. dropping the spoon. She held her arms outstretched in front of her. curling her fists. as if she were hiding something. and nodded. She wanted to play the .. happy.. game. the one she taught them as children. to try and coax them from a bad mood. Sara moved toward her. The urge to try to speak to her mother was stronger. but she knew somehow if she spoke. the sound would shatter the fragile contact with her mother. Still kneeling. her mother waiting for her to choose. Pick one. Sara pointed to her mother·s

137 right fist. She had awakened then. with the remnants of the dream. and the final

question her mother had asked her a faint memory. remaining with her. like the

delicate fibers that cling after walking through an unseen cobweb... Which do vou ...... ~ - - want to hold. Sara'? Misery's purse or happy·s purse?'"

Something was cooking on the stove. Water sizzled in an enameled pot on

the stove. Wet spots of steam had formed on the wall behind it. Inside the pan three eggs knocked together in less than an inch of water. Two had cracked. their cooked whites bubbling through the seams. He must have forgotten about them.

She turned off the stove and removed the pot to the sink. He had begun to cook

lately. She would come home from work to find the counter messy with opened cookbooks. bowls and dirtied pans. and him. her mother's apron tied around his

waist. All she had to do was look at the color stains on the apron to guess what was for dinner that night. Red; spaghetti or soup. Orange; fish stew.

unfortunately. that had the texture of ground garbanzo beans. Brown; don't ask.

He had increased the menu to five items: Spaghetti. Vegetable soup. Fish (fried).

Fish (soup). And Eggs (scrambled. over easy. or deviled). He would make her put a bowl or plate of something he had cooked and wait for her reaction. She was surprised to find that it was usually good.

She looked in the cupboard for the salt. pushing aside a can of tomato sauce. The grey recipe box was in front. She flipped through the cards. reading the titles of the recipes carefully printed in her mother's cursive writing; squash casserole. sour dough bread. Their placement behind the alphabetized index

138 seemed to follow no particular rules of order or logic. Under the B·s there was

Butter Bean Casserole. But under S. was Aunt Shirley·s Banana Pudding. She smiled at her mother·s logic. Would she remember it? Did she think of Aunt

Shirley first. looking under the s·s. or Banana Pudding. checking under the B·s'?

.. Daddy?"" There was no answer. The door to his bedroom was closed. She stood outside. hesitating.- uncertain if she should knock. He might- have -gone back to sleep. She had turned to go when the door opened. He had gotten his hair cut. had trimmed off the ends that curled around his ears. The bare skin was white in contrast to the other skin on his neck .

.. you forgot the eggs:·

.. rm making egg salad. Are you hungry'? ..

"A little."

She followed him into the kitchen. He peeled the eggs. taking one out carefully and rapping it against the sink before squeezing it until the shells • cracked completely. She noticed how gray his hair seemed around his sideburns. where white hairs interspersed with black. He had Elliott hair. from his mother· s side of the family. black as a crow·s. She and Ben were carbons of their mother.

Blonde hair. blue-gray eyes. Noses that turned up slightly at the end. His was thin and narrow. with a slight bump at the apex of his nose. He was looking at her with an expression she couldn·t read. "Do you know where she kept the black pan?""

"The skillet'? lfs underneath the stove." She was annoyed. He wasn't

139 looking hard enough. It's right there. she pointed. Where it's always been.

··can you taste this'? Enough salt? Why don't you see if Ben wants some? Don't tell him I made. though. he probably won't eat it." His mood seemed to better today.

Ben was hosing down the chairs. He turned the hose toward her.

"Don't even think about it."

She sat down on one of the chairs. still damp from the water. He went inside to get them an iced tea. When he came back outside he \Vas holding a pack of Marlboros. ..Found these in the kitchen ...

··wasn't he in there'?"

"He's cooking bacon. I think. He didn't notice."

He took a cigarette and lit one. handing it to her. They were blowing smoke rings when her father came outside. She knocked the pack of cigarettes off the chair. He picked them up. 'These your mother" s? ..

.. Yeah.''

They heard someone knocking at the front door.

He handed Ben the cigarettes ...She always said she was going to quit."

He looked around the yard. toward the Gumbo Limbo tree and the empty clothesline that had begun a dance in the breeze that stirred around them. He shook his head: his gaze still directed toward the back of the yard. his head tilted. as if listening for something. They heard the knock again. "Guess I'll get that."

They finished the cigarettes putting them out in the grass. "Nasty taste."

140 "Yeah. Sometimes nasty is good. though."

"Are you going with Julio later?"

"No. He has to leave today. I thought I would drop him off."

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know." He rubbed his head. The hair had started to grow back in

silvery spikes. "Guess I have t~" decide soon."

"I need to go. Do you want me to help you finish these?" She looked

around at the furniture.

"No. It will give me something to do."

They were sitting at the table when she walked in. Amelia cupped the bird

in her palm. Its color had changed: more bluish gray now. It hadn't lost all its

fuzz. though. Amelia held an eyedropper full of a milky- looking liquid. talking to

it. She handed it to her father. "Don't try to force it. Just put it at the tip and wait for it to start swallow."

He picked up the bird from Amelia. "It's a fighter. huh?"

"We're taking it to the sanctuary today. They think it might be able to fly if they put it with some others. Do you want to come with us?"

They looked at her. expectantly, waiting for her to answer. She wanted to smile. then. wanting to put them at ease. to let them know that she hadn't minded coming in to see them sitting at the table with the bird's box in front of them. or that she hadn't minded noticing how comfortable they seemed to be with each.

"I can't. I have some things to do later."

141 Chapter Eleven

Just after she crossed the bridge. the sun slipped from her view leaving

behind jagged streaks of pinkish red in the sky. Her father· s navigational mantra

reverberated in her ear. a simple rhyme she had learned as a child. Red sky at

night. sailor·s delight. Red skv at mom. sailors be warned. At least for tonight...... - .. - the seas would be calm. She rolled the window down. to get some air into the cab. turning on the radio. After driving another hour or so. dusk began to settle so she reached to the left of the steering wheel to tum on the headlights. But she had:1"t driven the truck at night in awhile. and accidentally turned the windshield wipers on ...Shit:· She tried to find the same knob to tum them off. but her view of the panel was obscured by the oversized steering wheel. Inclining her head slightly. she located the correct knob and flicked the lights on. taking her eyes off the road temporarily. When she looked back up. the truck had veered into the other lane. A car coming from the other direction honked its hom. She corrected the path of the truck. then sounded her hom. pressing down as hard as she could.

From the rearview mirror. she saw the driver stick out his arm and shoot her a bird. The idiocy of the encounter caused her to laugh. making her feel better somehow. She channel-hopped. trying to find a station that played something other than country music. She heard a song her father used to her sing to her mother. when they had gone camping or taken drives on the weekend. ··one

Sunday afternoon as I was driving down the street. I saw a cute little girl. all

14:! dressed up so sweet:· By the end of the song. Ben and Sara would usually join her

father. repeating the last verses over and over until her mother begged them to

stop.

Now she sang the song. bellowing out as loudly as she could. ''I was

looking back to see. if you were looking back at me. and it was plain to see that

you were looking back at me ...

'You were cutest as you could be just looking back at me and it was plain

to see that I enjoyed your company." By the time she neared Cow Key. she was

lightheaded.

She found the camp easily. though there were no signs. except when she

turned off I. and saw a large hand painted sign nailed to a tree that said

.. Paradise" with an arrow pointing toward an unpaved road. Probably posted

there to incite the police. Or maybe it wasn't meant to be ironic at all. She

followed the road until it led to a clearing. where various tents had been set up.

scattered over the field. It seemed different. until she realized a lot of the tents

were gone. She hoped Pete was still there. She worried that she had missed him.

that he might have already left for North Carolina.

Two dogs ran toward her. barking, as she parked the truck next to a VW

bus. The dogs were followed by a thin blond man. who yelled for them to be quiet. Van Morrison's .. Little Girl. Little Girl" was coming from inside one of the tents .

.. Sara~ Is that you?" Pete was standing in front of the truck. trying to

143 restrain the dogs .

.. Pete?" She didn"t realize she had been holding her breath .

.. Don·t worry. they"re trained to only bite cops:· ··oh:·

He grinned. ··Just kidding. So what"s up? Haven"t seen you in awhile. Or your brother. Come on over. we"re getting ready for a powwow:·

.. No. I can·t stay. I just came to give you something." She reached in her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. ··Here ...

He took it. trying to read it in the dimmed light .

.. \Vhat" s this?"

.. My number. Will you let me know when you leave?"

.. We're headed up to Zebulon in a few days. We kind of have a full house. know what I mean? When I didn"t hear from him. I assumed he"d changed his mind."

"He"s been kind of busy."

.. Hey. you want to stick around for awhile? You want to meet my cousin'?

He· s going to tell us about his place."

.. Ben said you were going to Wrightsville."

.. yeah. well. this place is a couple of hours from there. near Raleigh.

Anyway. my uncle's being a real hardass. Having a bad summer or some shit.

We"ll probably get there eventually. Okay. so this is the plan. if you want to tell him. First stop North Carolina. final destination. Toronto. Tell him to bring

144 shons and sweaters."

He turned to go.

··oon·t forget. Pete. Okay?'"

··oon·t worry. Hey. you know how to get out of here? Just follow the road straight back. take a left at the fork. Ifll take you right out to 1:·

··I got it. Thanks:· She turned to go back to her truck. wondering if she had done the right thing.

It was after eleven when she pulled the van into the parking lot of Victor·s restaurant. His car was still parked in the back. She got out of the truck. stretching her legs. She tried the front door. but it was locked. Peering through the window. she saw a light coming from the back. She walked around the building. Victor was getting ready to toss a bag of garbage into the dumpster when she rounded the comer. He must have heard her footsteps before he actually saw her. because he changed the position of the garbage bag in his hands. wielding it like a club and yelled. ··Hey! ..

.. Victor? If s me:·

He lowered the bag. ··sara? What the hell'? What are you doing here? You scared the crap out of me.··

··sorry:· She barely uttered the words.

··why are you laughing?'" He held up the bag. ··You know how dangerous this is? I got Georgia·s leftover biscuits in here and they"re probably hard as a rock by now. Sad to say. but sitting all day long has only improved their flavor ...

145 ·-rve never heard a guy scream before ...

.. I didn·t scream. It was a warning yell. And you·re very lucky I saw you

in time:· He shook the bag. "I screamed?"

"No. it was a very manly yell. It was more like a guttural throaty thing."

.. Good because I wouldn't want you to think less of me. Come on. you can

help me clean up."

She liked that he didn't ask her why she was there. Her eyes were swollen

from crying. She followed him into the kitchen that was lit by a strip of florescent

lights in the ceiling above the stove. He wore a stained apron wrapped around his

middle. and an American flag bandana tied across his forehead to keep his hair

free. which was thick. curlier in the front than it was in the back. He seemed to be

studying her. continually pushing a pair of wire frame glasses that kept sliding down his nose ...Jesus. where did you come from?"

.. I parked in the from:·

.. No. I meant-"

"I went to see Pete. They're supposed to leave in a few days."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Wow. Does Ben know?"

He picked up a wire brush and began scrubbing the surface of the blackened stovetop.

"Not yet. I don't know if it's the right thing or not. I didn't know what else to do."

"Well. Ben is a big boy. And tough. as you know."

146 He came around the comer. She slid into his chest. feeling the weight of his body. Her stomach growled.

''I'm sorry. I haven't eaten anything today."

He cupped her chin. "Why didn't you say so'? Come on. we'll make something."

He went to the refrigerator.

"Let me make it."

The grill was still hot. She melted the butter. waiting for it to sizzle before dropping the bread flat against the surface. He watched her from behind the counter. She pretended that she couldn't feel his eyes on her. She handed him the sandwich. He took it with raised eyebrows. poking the top of it. He took a bite.

··crispy on the outside. nice and cheesy inside. Pretty damned perfect grilled cheese sandwich."

··oo you know there are no streetlamps between here and Cow Key?

Well. none you can see by."

··rm glad you're back. You going to work tomorrow'?''

When she didn't answer he took another bite of his sandwich.

"A few months ago. right before-"

"Yeah?"

"I found a letter the other day when I was mopping the kitchen. You know. I don't think it had been cleaned in a month. It was a mess. Anyway. there was letter from North Carolina. stuck between the refrigerator and the table. It was from the admissions department at UNC. I had completely forgotten about

147 it."

"Congratulations. I guess." He rubbed at his hair.

"I think she would have wanted me to go. She wouldn't have said it outright. I want to go. too. But now. there's the restaurant-"

"There's me-"

"Yes. you. There is this whole world out there. though. right'? I know it. I hear about it. I see it. everyday. But now. sitting with you. touching you. this is almost everything I need. It makes me happy-but stili-I need to go. I don't know how I know that. but I do."

"''m not going anywhere. Sara. I'll always be here. I like it. and I think it likes me. I mean. I know it's all a pain in the ass sometimes- Hey. Victor. the griddle won't heat. the sink"s stopped up. Irene can"t come in cause her husband got a little drunk-Jesus:· He looked at her. ..But. it works for me." He took her hand. "Come on. Help me clean up this mess you made. Good God. Haven't you ever heard of clean as you go'?" She laughed. wiping her face.

148 Chapter Twelve

.. Is this new?" Ben picked up a Rolling Stone magazine. pointing to a

picture of Janis Joplin on the cover. She was wearing a pink fuzzy hat. smiling

over her shoulder at the unseen cameraman. Her hair hung in brown waves across

her chest.

"It's Victor's."

"Shit. I'm stoned. You want to stop at the Tastee Freeze?"

"We're not going that way."

"Where are we going?" His voice had the urgency of someone who secretly hated surprises.

"To see Pete." When he didn't say anything. she added." I think you should do it. Ben."

The silence in the cab of the truck seemed to last forever. Neither spoke for a while. It was she who broke the silence.

"It seems clearer to me. now."

"Glad you think so. But I just don't know. Not now." The look that passed between them masked the same thought always surprised them in its intensity. the leftover fragment and reminder that they had once spent part of their life growing side by side in the liquid of their mother's womb.

"Because of her? What dues do you think you need to pay? The only thing I really know is that I don't want you to go and get fucked up."

149 "Oh. I'm probably going to get fucked up. anyway. What about him'?" She

had to tum away from the rawness in his eyes.

"He's fine. He just wants to get out and spend the rest of his life

overcharging people taking them to see the biggest fucking flounder they've ever

seen."

"When did you become the smart one'?"

"Well. you always had the other category. It was only fair." She watched

him tilt his head back. "Do you want to hear some music?"

"Not really." His voice cracked. "It's like that stupid fucking bird she

found. The one \Ve knew was going to die? I am that fucking bird. Sara. I've

been kicked out. and I don't even know it. I can't even fucking move my wings. anymore. I am a bird. and I can't fly. What do I do then? Pretend I'm not?

Pretend that all I want to do is make my stupid fucked-up wings flap'? Rapping isn't good enough. Sara. It's no use. They won·t work here. They don't work here.

You know it. He knows it. And she knew it."

"I know. Ben." She reached in her pocket and pulled out a joint. "Light this."

"What are you doing?"

"Celebrating. I guess."

"Okay. then."

It had started to rain. She wanted to forget that she hadn't been on the bridge since her mother·s accident. As the rain pelted the windshield. she gripped

150 the steering wheels. leaning forward to try to see. When she felt the slight incline

begin. she knew she was almost halfway across. Ahead of her. at the apex of the

bridge. the sky and bridge seemed to be one. It felt as though they were riding into

the sky. and that there was no separation of bridge and sky. but a seamless

continuity of one beginning into another. She tried to not think of that day. What

had distracted her mother? Had she been trying to find a good station? Was she

thinking about them? Ben was snoring softly next to her. She wanted to wake

him up. She braked.

The change in motion woke him ...Whaf s going on?""

When she didn't answer. he asked. ..Want me to drive?.. But he had already shifted into position to fall back asleep .

.. No. ifs okay. Go back to sleep." He closed his eyes.

She looked at the odometer. 85.456. It had been 85.452 when she had first entered the bridge. Shit. how much longer? She didn·t realize she had been holding her breath. When she rolled the window down. the rain came in dropping lightly across her face. effervescent as butterflies. Her chest was pumping wildly.

She thought about Sam. No one had seen him. Where did he go. she wondered?

The rain stopped. She felt her body relaxing.

"Ben?"

"Yeah?" He hadn't been asleep at all.

"Did you mail that application?"

"I was wondering when you would mention it. Yeah. I did. Now we're

151 even. I guess."

"Not quite. I'm still older. by about three minutes. I think."

He closed his eyes again and smiled.

They drove the rest of the way in silence. Pete was waiting for them in the

parking lot. When they got out of the truck. he motioned toward a car filled with

people.

"Wow. I didn't think you'd come." He winked at Sara. "Here. give me

your shit." Ben handed the duffle bag to him. When he walked away. Ben turned

toward Sara. His eyes were glistening.

"You'll be okay."

"I know I will. I'm just going to go. not think too much. and see what

happens. I'll write you. though. Hold out your hand."

When she did. the shark's tooth glinted in her palm. He bent to kiss it. He

straightened. and turned around. ''I'm off." He saluted. and turned away.

She waited until the taillights disappeared before she moved. propping

herself with the weight of her hip against the door.

She must have fallen asleep. She awoke. disoriented at waking up in the dark. She took her bike from the porch and began to ride. The faint outline of a full moon could be seen above her. By the time she reached the end of White

Street. she pedaled faster. using the intermittent light from streetlamps to guide her. But she didn·t really need it. and felt a queer thrill. a spooky glory at being

152 able to move in total darkness. like a bat. She passed houses whose interior were lit. where the outlines of people moved around inside. She imagined them getting ready to sit down for dinner. or hearing their kids complain about taking their bath. As the warm night air rushed past her. she is caught up in the thrill of mavin~ like a shadow. unseen in the ni~ht. - '-' She jumped off the bike in one motion. White capped waves purled against the beams. in seamless rhythm as if to echo the dull tap-tap of her sneakers on the \Vet pier. The moon cast an hourglass shaped band of light across the water in front of her. She sat down. pulling her knees to her chest. She wasn't cold. because the air. even at night. never lost its warmth. like the breath of a baby.

The sway of the boats bumped against the dock. their clothed silhouettes formless and almost indistinguishable in the moonlight. There was another splash. She held her breath as though it could help her see more clearly as her ears strained toward the noise. The neck of a bottlenose broke the surface of the

\Vater. It seemed to pause. suspended above the water. She had the sensation that the dolphin somehow was watching her. She edged closer to the pier.

Someone had left a line of rope loose on the deck so she had to look down to kick it out of the way. When she looked up again. the dolphin had gone. She wondered if she imagined it. Sailors. notoriously superstitious. knew that to see a dolphin always meant good luck.

153 Chapter Thirteen

The good thing about being dead is that nothing much is expected of you.

No one to ask for eggs at eight a.m .• find your favorite pair of jeans. or make creamed com from scratch on the hottest day of the year in the hottest place on earth. But probably the best thing though is that you can watch people. unobserved. You can see them for how they really are. You can see them do things that no one else can. When Sara sleeps I watch her sometimes. She still sleeps on her left side curled inward with her fists crossed beneath her chin. as though to ward off something seen only by her. When she was five. it was the boogieman underneath the bed. That elusive rotten-toothed son of a bitch who only had the balls to come out at night after I had gone to bed. Sometimes her fear of sleeping alone made me began to wonder if he might be real. Myth. Mirage'?

The boogieman to Sara was sneaky. surprising her when she least expected it.

She is no longer afraid of him. yet still she sleeps curled. but to escape something else. The memory of me. She doesn't know it. but she is closest now to the revolution of the cycle that began with me. eighteen years ago. exposed three months ago to a shift from a cog

154 moment I hear her. but I can't speak. That is the worse part. I want to comfort her and I can't. My arms reach out to nothing. Can't she see me'? No. I smell. but I can •t taste. I smell her hair. damp with sweat. It smells of me a little. and of the perfume she took from my nightstand. On her. the fragrance is lighter. The cruelest irony. I can smell her. but I can't talk. And touching. Touching is forbidden. Words are succulent swirls of emptied air. rushing through my mouth.

I try anyway. "Sara." When she gets no response she will fall back and pull the covers around her. but her head is left exposed. cupped in the nest of her pillow.

She will sleep. then. a dreamless sleep. no longer afraid of the man under the bed. or the memory of me.

155