Winter Wake Page 6

  John shrugged. “Things change.”

  “Yeah, I suppose they do,” Randy said, nodding. “For some of us, anyway.”

  III

  “Your high school sweetheart, huh?” Julia said, smiling wickedly. She and John had wrestled the first of two bureaus up the stairs and into the master bedroom. They were both sweating and panting with exhaustion, but grateful they hadn’t made any gouges in the walls.

  “Come on,” John said, shaking his head angrily. “Forget about it. It was never as serious as Randy makes it out.”

  Julia grunted and shrugged. “Sure sounded serious to me.”

  “Well it wasn’t.”

  “Would have been nice if he helped us unload.”

  John sniffed and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

  “He unloaded enough on us.”

  Julia looked at him, one side of her mouth curling into a half smile.

  “I’m surprised you never mentioned Abby to me, though.” She made it sound as if she was hurt, but honestly — and she didn’t know why — she was actually enjoying seeing John get so flustered. “You know, yesterday, when I first went into the house, your father asked if I was Abby.”

  “He did?” John suddenly tensed and looked at her wide-eyed.

  Julia nodded, thinking, no matter what John said, there was some obvious tension about this Abby. “He did. I figured he confused me with someone else because of those blackouts he’s been having.”

  “I dunno … Maybe,” John replied simply.

  “Was Abby someone he wanted you to marry?” Julia asked.

  John’s mouth tightened into a hard line before he answered.

  “Just the opposite,” he said, his voice small and wire tight. “He did everything he could to break us up.” He sighed and shook his head. “He was always telling me I shouldn’t tie myself down to someone from the island … that I should wait until I went to college and found someone who wouldn’t nail my butt to this friggin’ place.”

  “I see,” Julia said, nodding. “So, by the sound of it, it was more serious than you indicated.”

  John turned on her, his eyes flashing with anger.

  “Look, it’s ancient history as far as I’m concerned, so just forget about it, okay? Christ, I’ve got enough to deal with getting the rest of our shit upstairs without you grinding me about this.”

  Even though she knew she didn’t have anywhere near the whole story, Julia let it drop. They went downstairs and out to the truck. They had nothing to say to each other as they lugged the second bureau up the narrow stairway, but once that last big piece of furniture was off the truck, it was almost a pleasure to carry in the broken-down pieces for their beds and the much lighter boxes of clothes, dishes, and kitchen utensils, books, and other possessions. Both of them appreciated that they had sold off their living room furniture, figuring if Frank’s turned out to be too old and grungy, they would buy something new.

  By three o’clock, they carried the last box into the house. John rolled the truck door down and drove it around to the side driveway, figuring it was too late to take it back to rental lot in Portland today. He’d take in first thing in the morning.

  “I’m going for a little walk,” Bri announced.

  Both of her parents were sprawled on the couch in the living room. The only thought in John’s mind was that he wanted a hot shower before he set to work putting their bed together so he and Julian could sleep in their bedroom tonight. He shivered when he recalled the gray shape he had seen reflected in the living room window. No matter how much he ached from unloading, he was determined not to spend another night sleeping in the living room.

  Bri glanced at her parents, waiting for either of them to give her permission to go explore a little.

  “Have fun,” he finally said after taking a deep breath.

  “Where are you going?” Julia asked. She glanced at the darkening sky outside the living room window. “I don’t want you down by the ocean after dark.”

  “I was thinking of going to the beach across the street,” Bri said. “Maybe I’ll meet some of the kids downtown.”

  “Don’t you remember what I told you?” John said, smiling. “There is no downtown.”

  “Make sure you’re back before dark, okay?” Julia said.

  “Promise,” Bri replied, and she turned to go.

  IV

  She looks as lonely as I feel was Bri’s first thought.

  She was standing on the side of the road, looking out at the ocean through a break in the trees. A narrow path winding down to the sandy beach was lined on both sides by a tangle of pine and wild rosebushes. Rose hips the size of small apples speckled the dark brush with bright red dots. The breeze coming in off the water was tangy with salt. Waves lapped up on the shiny sands, leaving behind white lines of scud.

  The girl Bri was watching moved slowly along the edge of the water, darting up higher onto the beach every time a wave slid landward. She was wearing an old heavy-knit gray sweater — maybe her father’s, Bri thought — and blue jeans rolled up at the cuffs. Her sneakers pom-poms hanging from the laces. She left no footprints in the hard-packed beach sand.

  The sky was darkening, and the ocean was stained a deep purple as Bri walked down the path and onto the wide stretch of land. The waves made the soft, hissing sound of tearing paper as they slid smoothly over the sand. The beach was littered with tangled masses of kelp that tripped Bri up several times as she walked briskly toward where the girl had gone.

  But the strange thing was, Bri couldn’t see her anymore.

  Confused, she looked back the way she had come and then down the length of beach, trying to figure out if the girl could have gone that far in the short time it had taken her to come down the path. It looked to Bri as though the girl had gone — what? — maybe a quarter of a mile in the time it had taken her to walk the hundred yards or so down to the shore.

  “That’s weird,” Bri whispered under her breath. The breeze off the ocean took her words and whisked them away.

  Looking at the sand, she tried to find any trace of the girl’s footprints, but the beach was as smooth and untouched as if it hadn’t been walked on in days.

  Maybe the tide’s coming in and it washed away her footprints, she thought, still walking along the beach, her eyes straining to find some trace of the girl.

  Up ahead, a stream of fresh water running to the ocean had carved a deep gully into the beach.

  Ah-hah, she thought. That’s how she got up into the woods.

  Bri scanned the sand for any footprints to tell her she was right, but she could find nothing. Looking behind her, she clearly saw her own footprints, a wavering dark line winding all the way back to the trail, and that was all.

  Of course, Bri thought, if she walked in the water, she wouldn’t leave any tracks … Maybe she saw me and didn’t want anything to do with me.

  And even though she clearly remembered seeing the girl carefully avoiding each wave as it came toward her, Bri told herself that had to have been what happened. She had seen Bri following her and had dashed away, up the gully and into the woods to avoid her.

  “Some friendly place this is turning out to be,” Bri said softly to herself.

  She bent over and picked up a worn piece of oddly shaped driftwood. After brushing the loose sand from it, she hefted it in her hand, cocked her arm back, and spun it end over end into the brush. It ripped through the branches and hit the ground with a dull thud.

  “Welcome to our friendly little town!” she yelled, throwing her head back and shouting at the darkening sky. “So nice to meet you! You’ll love it here!”

  Spreading her arms out wide, she started spinning around in a circle, her feet kicking up fans of sand. She wanted to laugh … or cry. She didn’t know how she felt other than very lonely. The wind coming in off the water brought tears to her eyes as she spun crazily around until she got dizzy and was sure she was going to fall flat in the sand.

  “Goddamnit!�
�� she shouted, clenching her fists and shaking them. “God-damn-it, damn-it, damn-it!”

  Bri lurched to a stop and stood there, knees locked and legs braced while the world spun around her — beach, sky, ocean — beach, sky, ocean — all blurred until they looked like smudged colored chalk.

  Knowing she must look like she was drunk, Bri staggered from side to side, waiting to regain her balance. With the sun gone, the chill of the air bit through her thin jacket, and she knew she had to get home. Her mother would be worried if she was out after dark.

  As she started along the beach, back the way she had come, something in the corner of her eye caught her attention. Squinting, she peered hard at the line of rocks and brush ahead of her, past where she had first come down onto the beach.

  It looked like ...

  Bri was sure it was a trick of the deepening gloom. It was impossible for her — the girl she had been following — to be back down the beach, but sure enough … there she was.

  Did she run all the way back there while I was screwing around? Bri wondered.

  What the hell is she doing?

  Not entirely convinced the girl was really there, Bri smiled and waved to her over her head. She was looking directly into the western sky, which glowed brightly, as if there were a forest fire beyond the horizon. That intensified the darkness in the rocks and trees by the edge of the beach.

  “Hello ... “ Bri called out, still waving as she started walking toward the girl.

  There was no doubt.

  She was standing in the gloom at the edge of the brush. It sure looked like she was watching her, but the girl didn’t respond. She stood there stock-still, staring at Bri. Her gray sweater appeared to be oddly suspended in midair, and the darkness seemed about to swallow her up.

  “Hey! … Hold on a minute!” Bri shouted.

  She pumped her fists as she ran, taking in deep gulps of air that burned in her lungs.

  In a matter of seconds, Bri closed the distance between them, but when she looked down so she wouldn’t trip in the uneven sand or on some kelp, she looked up again, and the girl was gone.

  Bri drew to a halt and stared, frustrated, at the black line of brush against the fiery red sky.

  The girl was gone.

  Vanished.

  “Hello!” Bri shouted.

  Her voice bounced back from the wall of rocks with an odd reverberation. She slapped her fists against her thighs and grunted angrily.

  “Come on!” she yelled as she started walking toward where the girl had been. “For crying out loud … I just want to talk.”

  Her legs ached from running. The air rushing into her lungs like liquid fire. She didn’t try to hold back the tears that gathered in her eyes and were streaking down her cheeks.

  “I just want to talk ... “ she repeated feebly, her words echoing softly.

  Dejected, she turned and headed back toward the path that would lead up to Shore Drive. It was way past time to be getting home. Her mother was probably already worried and looking for her. She kicked at the sand as she crossed the beach and started up the slope, but then, not five steps into the woods, she jolted to a stop. Looking down, she saw a peculiarly shaped piece of driftwood. It looked oddly like a boomerang, and when Bri stooped down and picked it up, it felt strangely familiar in her hand.

  She stood up and studied the piece of wood as she turned it over and over in her hand, not believing that this was the piece of wood she had thrown into the woods back by the gully.

  “Screw this,” she hissed, and then she threw the wood down as hard as she could, satisfied by the snapping sound as it broke on the ground.

  “Friggin’ bunch of weird people on a friggin’ island,” she said as she stomped up the trail back to the road.

  V

  Her mother had everything pulled out of the cupboards and lined up on the counter while she reached up onto the top shelf and scrubbed the shelves with a Lysol and hot water. She looked around when Bri came into the kitchen.

  “Nice of you to show up,” Julia said, scowling. “I was starting to wonder where you were.”

  “Out,” Bri said simply, going to the refrigerator and taking out a gallon jug of milk. She got a glass from the counter and filled it, then put the milk back and stood leaning against the countertop while she sipped. She wanted to tell her mother about what had happened on the beach, but she decided not to. Why get her all worked up?

  “So, did you meet anyone while you were out?” her mother asked, as though reading her mind. Apparently satisfied with her job, she dropped the sponge into the pan full of sudsy water and eased herself back down to the floor.

  “Not really,” she replied.

  “What does that mean?” Julia asked.

  “No one.”

  Julia busied herself, putting some of the boxes and cans back into the cupboard. She inspected each item and, more often than not, dropped them into the trash can beside her. “God, some of this stuff has been here for years.” The only thing that made her feel good was that she hadn’t found any evidence of mice — much less poodle-sized rats — so maybe Frank had been pulling Bri’s leg after all.

  “I don’t think you have to worry, though,” Julia said. “You’ll be starting school tomorrow, and I’m sure you’ll meet plenty of kids then.”

  Bri nodded and then drained off the rest of her milk.

  “Yeah, great. I’ll be the new kid, and no one except the losers will talk to me.” She still wanted to say something about the girl she had seen on the beach, but the girl’s evasiveness had hurt Bri’s feelings. She definitely wasn’t going to mention this to her mom.

  “Do I really have to start school so soon?” she asked, her voice whining. This had been a point of discussion ever since they’d started packing. Both of her parents had insisted she jump right into school so she could start adjusting to her new life, but now, with the reality of all the unpacking and cleaning they had to do, she was trying one last time to get a few days’ reprieve — a week, if she got lucky.

  Julia chuckled. “The ‘new kid.”

  “But Mom —”

  “No ‘buts,’” Julia snapped.

  “You don’t understand,” Bri said.

  “I understand plenty.” Julia turned toward her with a frown. “I moved a few times myself when I was young, and I know exactly how it feels to be the new kid.”

  “Things are different now,” Bri said weakly. She knew she had lost — and this had been the final round.

  “Is Granddad home yet?” Bri asked. ‘‘I’m hungry.” She looked longingly at the kitchen table to see any evidence that supper was close.

  “He should be back soon,” Julia said, wiping her hair from her eyes. “If you’re hungry, have a snack to tide yourself over.”

  Bri looked at her mother with wide, sad eyes. “Do you want me to starve?”

  Julia shook her head angrily. “Look, Bri — your father and I are exhausted. Between unloading the truck and getting all sorts of furniture shifted around and cleaned up in here, I don’t have the energy to do anything fancy tonight. All right? If you want something to eat, get it yourself. And when you’re done, maybe think about getting your own stuff unpacked. Your father has already put your bed together, so maybe put some sheets and blankets on it while you’re at it.”

  “God, you make it sound like I committed a capital crime or something,” Bri said.

  For a second longer, her mother’s face remained hard; then it softened, and she said mildly, “Sorry, honey. I’m hot, tired, and cranky.”

  Bri nodded, further resolved not to mention the girl she had seen on the beach. Her mother left the kitchen and went upstairs, and Bri stood by the counter, silent for several seconds while she listened to her mother and father upstairs, moving something heavy, by the sounds up in their bedroom. Finally she opened the refrigerator and fished around. The best she could come up with was the tuna fish left over from lunch, so she slapped together a sandwich, refilled her glass of milk, an
d walked into the living room to sit on the couch and eat.

  Outside, the sky was now dark. The distant flash of the lighthouse winked on and off, and the solitary streetlight on the corner spread a faint yellow glow over the road. A few falling leaves drifted by on the breeze, spinning in the rectangle of light from the house. Even with the sounds of her parents unpacking upstairs, knowing they were nearby, Bri couldn’t have felt any lonelier.

  She ate and drank in silence, tossing over in her mind what had happened on the beach. She had wanted to tell her mother about the girl she had seen, but something — she didn’t know what — told her not to. If anything, her mother would caution her about talking to strangers.

  A car came down the road, its headlights sweeping over the yard as it turned into the driveway and stopped. Bri got up from the couch and, looking out the side window, saw a man get out, take a wheelchair from the backseat, fold it open, and then help Frank out of the front seat and into the wheelchair. She listened to the buzz of their voices through the window but couldn’t make out what they were saying.

  After a bit of discussion, the man got back into his car and drove away as Frank rolled his wheelchair up the walkway to the kitchen door. As the car was backing around and its headlights swung around, Bri caught a glimpse of a person standing on the other side of the road under a maple tree.

  She tensed with instant recognition.

  It was the girl she had tried to follow on the beach. She was standing there, not cringing or hiding by the side of the road, but looking up, bold as could be, at the house. She was still wearing that old gray sweater, and her arms were folded across her chest. Her face — in that instant wash of light — looked pale, and her expression blank as she looked up at the house.