The Vanishing Expert

by David Movsesian

  In town, James noticed Jean’s car parked in front of her gallery on Mount Desert Street, but he wanted to spend some time alone with Kate before introducing her to Jean. He parked the Jeep on Cottage Street near the Criterion Theater, and as they walked past the shops and eateries, James could see that Kate was enthralled with the town. He led her back to Main Street where they turned left and walked toward the pier. Along the way, James pointed out the Seafarer Café where he had his first lunch with Jean Berkhardt and The Spinnaker Pub where he enjoyed his Friday evenings with Peter Langston.

  They strolled leisurely through some of the shops that remained open in November. One of the shop owners waved to James as they passed her door, and James told Kate that the woman was a friend of Jean Berkhardt’s.

  “I want to get a look at this Jean you keep talking about,” Kate finally said.

  “She should be at her gallery,” James told her. “I’m ready if you are.”

  As they cut through the park on the way to the gallery, James could hear Kate whispering something under her breath, but he couldn’t quite make out the words. “Are you talking to yourself?” he asked her.

  Kate looked over at him as if she was concentrating on a poem she’d memorized, and she raised her voice just enough so her brother could hear. “James Perkins… James Perkins… James Perkins…”

  James laughed. “I think you’ve got it,” he said. “Just relax.”

  When they reached the Berkhardt Gallery, Jean was standing in the doorway as if she was awaiting their arrival. “I heard you were in town,” Jean said to him. “I was wondering if you were going to stop by.” James realized that Jean had probably received a dozen calls from friends alerting her that James was strolling around town with a woman they didn’t recognize.

  Jean looked Kate over, not in a jealous or judgmental way, more in an effort to try to discern their relationship.

  “Just saving the best for last,” James declared, a broad smile on his face.

  When he introduced Kate as his sister from Rhode Island, he saw Jean’s face brighten, and although he might only have imagined it, he thought he recognized something that looked like relief register quickly in her expression and then disappear.

  “I’ve heard a lot about you,” Kate said.

  Jean cast an accusing glance at James and then smiled at Kate. “I wish I could say the same. Your brother doesn’t share much about himself.” She ushered them inside, touching Kate’s arm as she passed. “Maybe you can fill in some details while you’re here.”

  “Don’t bother,” James said playfully. “I’ve already warned her about you, and she’s under strict orders not to share any secrets.”

  Kate was surprised to hear how comfortable her brother appeared to be in light of the deception he was concealing. Before long, his casual manner allowed her to relax a bit as well.

  As James expected, the two women became fast friends. Jean was as cheerful and gracious as always, and James could tell that his sister was as instantly charmed by her as he had been. Kate spoke very little, but she appeared to relax once the topic of conversation moved away from her brother and onto safer subjects. As Jean walked Kate around the gallery, she pointed out some of her favorite paintings and told Kate about the artists. Several of the paintings were scenes of the local landscape, and Jean explained how to find those particular views and encouraged James to take his sister to see them during her visit.

  When Jean excused herself to answer a phone call, James walked his sister to the door so he could speak to her without the risk of Jean overhearing him.

  “I like her a lot,” Kate offered, anticipating her brother’s question.

  James peered over his shoulder to make certain that Jean was still out of earshot. “I was thinking about inviting her to join us for dinner tonight,” he said, “but only if you’re comfortable with it. If you want it to be just you and me, that’s okay too.”

  “You’re the one with the secret,” Kate told him. “If you’re okay with it, I’m okay with it.”

  When Jean returned, she stood poised with an apology and a map. “I’m sorry that took so long. That was Christina.” She looked at Kate. “My daughter,” she offered for Kate’s sake. “That was the ‘I love you mom please send money’ call. I told her I’d give it to her in person when she comes home to visit me for a weekend.”

  James turned to Kate. “Christina’s a junior at Orono,” he said.

  Kate was uncertain whether to acknowledge the coincidence, not knowing what her brother might have shared about that part of his life.

  Jean touched Kate on the arm, an affectionate gesture that seemed both friendly and maternal at the same time. “She loves being here during the summer,” Jean said. “But this time of year, she thinks it’s terribly dull. If she comes home, it’s usually for money or for some boy. It’s hardly ever just to see me.” She waved her hand in the air, as if swiping the thought away like a puff of smoke. “Anyway, I brought you a map,” she said, producing it. “I wanted to show you where some of those scenes from the paintings are. You owe it to yourself to go see a few of them while you’re here.”

  She marked on the map the location of some of the stone bridges along the carriage roads and the Jordan Pond House along the Loop Road in Seal Harbor. “And of course, you’ll have to go to the top of Cadillac. On a day like today, the view is just wonderful.”

  As they were leaving, Jean took Kate’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Kate. I hope I’ll get to see you again before you leave.”

  Kate glanced at James and then turned her attention back to her new friend. “Why don’t you join us for dinner?” Kate asked her, beating James to it.

  Jean was flattered by the offer but shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to intrude on your family time,” she said, a courtesy that further endeared her to Kate.

  James finally convinced her by explaining that Peter and Annie would be joining them as well. “Kate doesn’t get up here often,” he said, “and I wanted her to meet both of you.”

  When Jean agreed, James asked to use her phone. She pointed to the counter James had built for her a few weeks earlier. “You know where it is,” she said.

  “I need to call Peter and invite him to dinner,” he said with a guilty smile as he left them by the door.

  After leaving the gallery, they drove up the auto road that ascended Cadillac Mountain. At the summit, they stood upon the pink granite ledges, bracing against the cold wind that swept in from the ocean. Beneath them, the colorful foliage that had been so vibrant in early October had long since fallen, leaving an expanse of bare trees amidst the pine that stretched all the way to the rocky shore.

  Despite the cold, Kate looked out at the many small islands that dotted Frenchman’s Bay, appearing like slumbering animals basking in the afternoon sunshine, as if she was trying to memorize the view. “This is amazing,” Kate gushed. “I can see why you love it here.”

  James placed his arm across Kate’s shoulder. “All the years I tried to convince you to come up here. Now, you finally see what you’ve been missing.”

  Kate leaned into him in a futile attempt to get warm. “It’s just such a long drive,” she said. “Outside of you and Gloria, I don’t know too many people that have been up here. And Gloria wouldn’t even have made the trip if it wasn’t for you.”

  “That’s part of the reason I wanted to come here,” James told her. “There’s not much chance of bumping into anyone I know from back home.”

  Kate grew suddenly quiet. At first James assumed she was simply taking in the scenery— he often came to this same spot and sat silently gazing out over Frenchman’s Bay— but when he looked over at Kate he noticed that she was staring at her feet, looking as if she wanted to speak.

  “What do you think would happen if you came back?” she finally asked him.

  James expected the question. He drew a deep breath. “I can’t go back,” he s
aid. “But you’ll always know where I am.”

  “It’s not the same,” she said. She pulled away from him slightly so she could see his face. “You’re not there. You’re just this big secret I have to keep.”

  James could hear the resentment in her voice. He understood the difficult position he’d put his sister in by including her in his plan. He knew how unfair it was. And he knew she would forgive him.

  “I know,” he said. “I’m sorry for that. But if I hadn’t told you, you’d think I was dead, and I just couldn’t do that to you.”

  Kate kicked at a small stone. “Because then you’d be the one keeping the secret.”

  James looked past his sister to the northeast at the village of Bar Harbor nestled in among the trees. “I have plenty of secrets, Kate.”

  Back in the Jeep, James inserted the key in the ignition, but Kate touched his hand to prevent him from starting the engine. Looking at her, James could see she was troubled. It took a moment before Kate finally decided how to begin.

  “There’s something I haven’t told you yet, Edward.”

  James didn’t bother to correct her about his name this time. There was no one around, and there was something ominous in her tone that kept him from interrupting her.

  “I never know how much you want to know,” she said. “But you should know this.” She looked sadly at her brother. “It’s Tracy. She’s not doing very well with all this.”

  As Kate began to describe Tracy’s difficult summer, James looked down at his hands and frowned, remembering his friend. Kate explained that in the days and weeks following his disappearance, it was Tracy who remained convinced longer than anyone that Edward was still out there somewhere, evidence to Kate of the connection Tracy shared with her brother.

  James listened quietly as Kate described Tracy’s drinking and depression and how it had led to her losing one job after another, and finally to her recent decline and morbid fascination with death. He knew the news of his death would be difficult for Tracy, but it never occurred to him how far she would descend. He simply overlooked her, as he always had.

  “I think you need to tell her, Edward,” Kate finally told him.

  “Tell her what?” James wondered.

  “The truth,” Kate asserted. “She needs to know that you’re still alive.”

  James looked away from her and gazed through the windshield at a wisp of a cloud drifting over the bay. On any other day, it would have been a tranquil moment, but not today. He closed his eyes and shook his head in frustration.

  “You can’t just let her suffer,” Kate insisted.

  “It’s not that simple,” James said. “I made a choice. And I know it was selfish, and I know you hate it, but I can’t just undo it. It doesn’t work like that.” He couldn’t look at his sister; he knew the expression of disappointment that awaited him if he did. “I made a decision, Katy, and like it or not, I have to live with it.”

  “Well, I don’t know if Tracy can live with it,” Kate said. “And where will that leave you if she decides she doesn’t want to?”

  “Stop!” James said, gripping the steering wheel. “Just stop.” He turned the key in the ignition and the engine rumbled to life. “You said you needed to tell me about Tracy, and you did.” He thought about saying more, but instead he put the Jeep in gear and pulled out of the parking space.

  “I’m just gonna say one more thing,” Kate told him as they began their descent down the winding auto road. “I really miss Edward, because this James Perkins person you’re so fond of is a real asshole.”

  It was nearly four o’clock in the afternoon when they reached the apartment on Clark Point Road. They hadn’t spoken a word since they left the summit of Cadillac Mountain, Kate’s final remark hanging in the air between them as they drove. Just a day earlier, he’d driven along those same roads, content in the belief that he’d finally found the simple life he’d always wanted. Now it seemed to be eluding him once again.

  When he stopped the Jeep on the gravel drive outside his apartment and killed the engine, Kate reached quickly for the door handle, but James grabbed her arm before she could get out. “Just wait a second,” he said.

  Kate stopped but said nothing. She looked straight ahead.

  “If word gets out about what I did, I could go to jail,” James said. “You know that, right?”

  Kate’s jaw was set as she gazed through the windshield at nothing in particular.

  “So if you tell her, she needs to understand that.” When Kate finally looked at him, he saw the tautness in her expression suddenly ease. “She has to keep it to herself.”

  Kate considered her brother’s words. “So you want me to tell her the truth?”

  “No,” James said. “I really don’t. But I don’t want anything to happen to her, so if you need to do it, then do it. All I ask is that you explain to her that she can’t tell anyone, and that you don’t tell her where I am.”

  “You know she’ll want to see you,” Kate said.

  James nodded. “I know,” he said. “I guess we’ll jump off that bridge when we come to it.”

  Kate offered him a faint smile, obviously pleased with him. “I knew my brother was in there somewhere,” she said.

  “So you’ll stop calling me an asshole now?”

  Kate considered it for a moment. “For now,” she conceded as she climbed out of the Jeep.

  They met Jean at Benson’s, a cozy restaurant on the first floor of what had once been an old Victorian home on the west end of Cottage Street. Jean selected the restaurant, mainly because she loved the shrimp scampi, but also because she thought James should dine on something other than burgers and beer at The Spinnaker Pub. Jean was waiting on the sidewalk when James and Kate arrived, and she seemed oblivious to the cold, but noticing the slightest shiver from Kate, she ushered them quickly inside.

  “Peter's coming and he’s bringing Annie,” Jean announced. “We’re a little early.”

  When Peter and Annie arrived at Benson’s, James heard Peter before he saw him, Peter’s booming voice calling out from the doorway to the owner who was standing near the bar. When James turned around, Peter was helping Annie remove her coat, giving her a quick peck on the nape of her neck as he did, which made Annie shiver.

  James had met Peter’s wife, Annie, on a few occasions, usually at their home, although she did drop by The Spinnaker Pub once during one of their Friday evening beer marathons. Peter adored Annie, and whenever they were together, they seemed as carefree and openly affectionate as a pair of teenagers.

  James introduced his sister, first to Annie and then to Peter, who immediately wrapped his big arms around her in an affectionate bear hug. James thought for a moment that Peter was going to lift Kate off the floor, but instead he stepped back quickly with an expression of mock embarrassment.

  “Watch those hands, my dear!” he said to Kate playfully. “My wife is standing right here.” He looked at James. “She’s a grabby one,” he joked.

  Kate smiled and glanced at Annie who was shaking her head as if she’d witnessed this scene play out many times before.

  “Don’t mind him,” Annie told Kate. “He’s a shameless flirt and the world’s oldest teenager.”

  Over dinner, Kate artfully deflected questions about her brother. She entertained the group with anecdotes about their childhood, but like her brother, was evasive when it came to details about their adult life. Whenever she found herself dancing around an uncomfortable topic, she simply diverted their attention by asking questions of Jean or Peter or Annie. Peter seemed to be the most eager to speak, so she found it easiest to deflect the conversation in his direction. Even James noticed that Peter was particularly jovial and talkative, and he wondered if sitting between Annie and Jean— the two women Peter claimed to love most in the world— was the reason for his playfulness.

  When pressed to offer information about her brother’s marriage, Kate politely declined. “I’m
sure he doesn’t want me to talk about that.”

  “That’s why we’re asking you,” Peter said. “We want details.”

  Kate looked at her brother and winked and returned her attention to Peter. “One thing I can tell you is that it was nothing like the relationship the two of you have,” she said, addressing Peter and Annie. “How did you meet?”

  Peter, feeling especially jovial, pounced on the opportunity to tell the story again.

  Peter and Annie had both been raised in Bar Harbor only a few blocks apart, Peter’s parents having moved there shortly after Earl Langston passed away. Growing up, Peter’s closest friend was Harry Price, Annie’s older brother. They later played football together in high school, though Harry was considerably smaller than Peter.

  Annie was three years younger than Harry and almost four years younger than Peter, so growing up, Peter paid her little regard. Annie, on the other hand, was smitten with Peter for as long as she could remember. When she was a freshman in high school and Peter was a senior, she would have given anything for Peter to notice her. In those days, Peter was the biggest and strongest boy in school and, as Annie liked to say, “as handsome as a summer day is long.” To Peter, Annie was simply Harry’s kid sister, and while he was always nice to Annie, he was far more interested in the older girls that “swarmed around him like bees”— another of Annie’s expressions.

  After graduation, Harry went off to college in Boston while Peter went to work for his father doing construction and odd jobs on the island. During the summers, when Harry was home from school, he worked with Peter, and in the evenings, they would either drink beers at a local pub in town or find a couple of the local girls to take for a drive out to the beach in Peter’s car. Some nights, they simply sat on a bench outside the ice cream shop on Main Street to watch the young tourist girls stroll by with their tanned skin and their playful but elusive glances.