The Orphans of Race Point: A Novel

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The Orphans of Race Point: A Novel Page 21

by Patry Francis


  “Sorry, but I think I have a right to know what kind of trouble he’s in.” He turned toward Gus. “Did you break bail?”

  In the flickering light, Gus’s eyes roved from father to daughter. Then he nodded. “I went to her house.”

  Hallie leaped to her feet. “You what? Gus, are you suicidal?” She turned to her father. “Okay, so now you know. Now it’s time to get some rest.”

  But Nick was more resolute than ever. “I’m not going to bed until I get an answer. “Why, Gus?”

  “The woman’s been abused for years, and it’s getting worse every time. So when she called me today, what was I going to do? Go to the police?”

  “That’s what most reasonable people would do,” Nick said.

  “She’s convinced her husband has someone on the inside. Whether it’s true or not, the guy has almost completely broken her. That’s why she lied—”

  “To be honest, I don’t give a damn why she lied,” Hallie snapped. “She’s implicated you in a serious crime. You could be sent to jail for a long time over this—especially with—” Abruptly, her voice broke off.

  “Go ahead, say it. Especially with my past.” Gus lifted his chin in Hallie’s direction. “That’s another reason I went there. I had to talk to her, Hallie—for purely selfish reasons. If she doesn’t feel safe enough to tell the truth, the charges will go forward.”

  “Doesn’t look like your plan turned out too well, does it?” Nick interjected.

  “It will, though—as long as I can evade the cops for a few more days.”

  As usual, Nick got right to the point. “Tell the truth. Are you in love with her?”

  “Love her? I hardly know the woman. She came to me for help. Maybe I’m a little bit like you in that way. I believe that when someone knocks on your door, you answer it.”

  “Obviously a dangerous practice.” Nick glanced toward the window as if he expected the police to appear at any moment. Suddenly, he winced in pain.

  “Your leg?” Hallie asked, moving to his side, and massaging his calf.

  “Maybe I should lie down for a while,” he said. He allowed his daughter to help him to bed. She was pulling back the sheet that separated his bed from the living area when Nick stopped her. “And, Gus? For what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing,” he said. “Not the safe thing, and certainly not the wise one, but since when have guys like you and me ever gone with safe and prudent?”

  It was nearly thirty minutes before Hallie reappeared. There’d been no movement or voices for at least half that time. Gus imagined her watching Nick as he fell asleep, soaking in the lines and contours of her father’s face.

  “Hungry?” she asked. “I need to go for supplies tomorrow, but I’ve got hummus and pita, and a little bit of salad.”

  “Thanks, but I had dinner in town.”

  “In town? That doesn’t sound too smart, either.”

  “Smart was your thing, Hallie. I was the guy who played football, remember? I run on instinct.”

  “Don’t give me that,” Hallie said. “If you weren’t smart, you never would have been so engrossed by David Copperfield when you were nine. And you never would have fallen—” She broke off. “I’m sorry. This has been such an emotional month for me. I don’t know what I’m saying half the time.”

  “No apology necessary.”

  Hallie got up and went to the stove. “Usually when Nick goes to bed I make tea and go outside to drink it on the stairs. It’s my moment of sanity. Want some?”

  “Tea or sanity?” Gus said.

  “Tea,” Hallie said, taking two mismatched mugs from the shelf. “When it comes to rationality, you’re a lost cause.”

  Gus smiled in the flickering light. “Did you hear Nick? He said I did the right thing. That meant a lot.”

  “Mmm,” Hallie said noncommittally. When she turned her back to the stove, the tiny crease between her brows became a deep shadow. “And when we were alone, he also said that he expected you’ll pay a high price for it.”

  They sat down at a small table. Hallie had made a tablecloth out of what appeared to be a paisley shawl, and filled a vase with beach roses. The rain pelted the tin roof, and Gus noticed a small leak near the corner of the room. He emptied the pan Hallie had used to make tea and set it on the floor.

  “I wish there was something I could do,” he said, moving away.

  Hallie wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand. “I hear you priests are pretty good at miracles.”

  “Only those up for canonization. Guys with charges pending don’t carry much weight.”

  “Then I guess there’s nothing you can do except sit and be with me. Not unless you brought some tools to fix that leak.” Hallie’s smile was muted by her obvious sorrow. In the background, Nick had begun to snore.

  “How’s he been doing?” Gus asked.

  “So far we’ve been able to keep the pain under control. The clots in his legs are what’s bothered him most. Related, of course. But the actual cancer site’s been quiet.”

  “And his state of mind?”

  “You saw him. He’s taken one piece of devastating news after another with the most amazing equanimity I’ve ever seen. And he’s so open when he talks about it. Completely matter-of-fact.”

  “He’s showing us the way, isn’t he? Just like he always did,” Gus said. “You know, when people ask who inspired me to become a priest, I tell them about cranky old Father D, and then I talk about Nick.”

  “Don’t let him hear that,” Hallie warned. “You know how he feels about the Church.”

  Gus laughed softly. “Yeah, I know. But that doesn’t change what I saw growing up. Every day of his life, Nick preached a powerful sermon. No words needed.”

  Hallie got up and cleared their empty cups. “Honestly, Gus? I’m not sure I can handle this. I can’t imagine coming home to Provincetown and him not being here.”

  Gus got up and hugged her, but this time she quickly pulled away.

  “Damn you, Gus Silva.” She walked to the window and looked out at the lashing rain. “Do you have any idea what a mess I am? If you touch me, I just might fall apart.”

  Gus turned toward the sink, where he began to wash the cups. A moment later, she was beside him, silently drying them and putting them away.

  He looked toward his wet clothes. “I should go.”

  “That’s crazy. Listen, Gus, I’m glad you’re here; I mean that. And you can stay as long as you want. The only thing I ask in return is the truth.”

  “Like I told Nick, I didn’t hurt that woman.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  Gus looked at her, feeling bewildered.

  “You never really answered his other question,” Hallie said. “Are you in love with her?”

  “I’m a priest, Hallie.”

  “What does that mean? Nothing except that you’re lonelier than the average guy? Come on, Gus. Falling in love is simply what people do—and it’s a well-known fact that ordination doesn’t preclude—”

  “For me, it does.” There was a flash of anger in Gus’s voice. “And I’m not lonely—at least, not more than anyone else. My life isn’t the sad compromise some of my friends think it is. I chose it, Hallie. I chose God.”

  “So you’re no longer a sexual being? No longer capable of attraction? Infatuation? Love? Do you really expect me to believe that?”

  “Attraction—yes. Outright lust? Nothing eradicates that. And love—most definitely. But being in love? No, Hallie. Not since you—”

  They were silent for a few minutes. Then Hallie said, “You may believe that, but I don’t. No vow could change a person that much.”

  “It wasn’t the priesthood that changed me, Hallie. Being in love did that. Knowing what those kinds of feelings can do to me.” He looked around the little shack, his gaze veering from the cot where Hallie apparently slept to a straw mat beside it. “Is that enough truth to earn me a spot on the floor for the night?”
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br />   In answer, Hallie searched a chest in the corner. “Sorry, but I don’t even have a sheet to cover that mat,” she said, tossing Gus a pillow and a light cotton blanket.

  Once they were settled in, they lay there for several moments, each listening to the rhythm of the other’s breathing. “Tell me about him,” Gus finally said. His hands were behind his head and he was staring up at the ceiling.

  Hallie hesitated. “He’s . . . strong, and I don’t just mean physically. He’s the kind of person who’s never paid a bill late once in his life, who thinks before he acts—sometimes to a fault. He hates Provincetown and fireworks, and he calls a day at the beach ‘savage amusement.’ Sounds like a bore, doesn’t he?”

  “Not necessarily,” Gus said, but there was a hint of triumph in his voice.

  “Well, the amazing thing is that he’s not. He makes me laugh in a way I never thought I would again; and even though he hates beaches and fireworks, he goes anyway—just for me.”

  When Gus made no response, Hallie finally leaned over the edge of the cot, and said, “Hey you, down there. You’re not jealous, are you?”

  “Do you still intend to throw me out if I don’t tell the truth?”

  “In the rain. With cops crawling all over town looking for you.”

  Gus laughed softly. “Okay, then. Yeah, I am jealous. I’ve been jealous ever since I heard the words Hallie’s husband. Are you happy now?”

  “Yes,” Hallie said, her smile visible through the dark. “I’m happy. It means you’re human; and as much as I’m opposed to liars, I’m even more uncomfortable with saints.”

  “He still doesn’t deserve you,” Gus said after a moment of quiet.

  “That’s what I used to think about your God,” Hallie said. “The ultimate heresy, right?”

  Again Gus laughed before turning on his side. “We probably should get some sleep,” he said, though he doubted they would.

  Several times during the night, he woke to Nick’s groans. They were promptly followed by Hallie’s soothing voice; the beam of her flashlight slicing the darkness. The sight of her crossing the shadowy room in the thin drawstring pants and tank top she wore to bed affected him more than he wanted to admit. He rolled toward the wall, but he still felt her presence. What had she said? If you touch me, I just might fall apart. It was a broken, hallucinatory night of sleep. In the wind, the shack that stood on stilts shook like a houseboat tossed on mercurial seas.

  It was close to dawn before Gus fell deeply asleep. A short three hours later, he woke to the smell of fresh coffee and the sound of a gull cracking clamshells on the roof and then skittering across the tin surface to claim his breakfast. Hallie was talking to Nick behind the sheet. Here, where the business of dying was being conducted, routine took over. Medications needed to be dispensed according to a precise timetable. Nutritious foods needed to be prepared, though neither father nor daughter had much appetite. The laborious business of living in a shack without electricity and only a small stove needed to be accomplished.

  Gus slipped outside, and a few minutes later, Hallie followed him. He worked the rusty water pump, filling the basin for Nick’s sponge bath, while Hallie lit a cigarette.

  “I thought med school would’ve cured you of that nasty habit.”

  “I’ve been trying to quit, but now isn’t the time.”

  He took one from her pack. “Believe it or not, this is the first one I’ve had in eleven years. It must be your corrupting influence.”

  “Excuse me? I think you were the one who introduced me to cigarettes and whiskey—all on the same day, too.”

  Gus chuckled, then turned serious. “How long are you planning to stay out here? This kind of life gets pretty hard when it gets cold.”

  Hallie exhaled a plume of smoke. “Nick wants to die as close to the ocean as possible—even if it shortens his life. He says it’s a Portuguese thing.” The rain had abated, but the grayness, and the wind remained. Hallie’s hair was blown back. The face of the girl he remembered was marked by the weariness and determination of the woman she had become. “I have to go in to town. You need anything?”

  Gus shook his head. “You’re leaving me alone with Nick? What if he needs his pain medication?”

  “Then you’ll get it for him, and he’ll tell you how to administer it.” Hallie accepted the basin and carried it inside.

  Gus sat on the steps, drinking his coffee, listening to the gulls. He took out his cell phone and frowned as he listened to the worried diatribes that Jack and Sandra had left overnight. He wondered briefly if the police could trace his location through his cell phone. He expected he wouldn’t hear from Ava until the end of the week. Robert was likely to be extra vigilant after his visit, and it would take time for her to plan her escape.

  He took a walk to the ocean with the intention of praying. There were so many desperate pleas he wanted to toss out to the God of sea and wind, but as always, his petitions were subsumed by the layered gray sky, the imposing darkness of the water, and the only prayer he could offer was one of wild gratitude. With her promise, Ava had taken the first step toward saving her life; and being here with Hallie and Nick was a gift Gus had never expected to receive again. He was climbing the big dune toward the shack when he saw Hallie sitting on the steps with her bag. “I was afraid you’d gone,” she said.

  “Do you think I’d leave without saying goodbye?”

  “Never know what a guy on the lam might do.” Hallie walked down the steps and paused, her bag slung over her shoulder. “I won’t be long.”

  Gus brushed away the sand that had begun to blow into his eyes. “Anything else I need to do while you’re gone?”

  “Just what you do in the hospital. Give him a little bit of your hope. Your strength. Whatever voodoo you’ve got.”

  He watched her tramp across the dunes toward the pitch pines. When he went back inside, Nick was asleep in his chair, his mouth agape, his formerly olive skin the color of oatmeal. Gus watched him for a few moments before he lay down on the cot and wrapped himself in the jasmine scent of Hallie’s blanket.

  He was startled by the ringing of his cell phone, and even more surprised that it was Ava.

  “Robert knows,” she blurted out, her voice thick with panic. “He came home early and sneaked into the house when I was talking to Cynthia. You have to come.”

  Gus kept his voice firm. “Did he hurt you?”

  “I think he knew that wouldn’t work this time. He can tell that I am—different. I have nothing more to lose, Father. It was a terrible scene, though. He cried like a child, cried and begged me not to leave. I almost felt sorry for him, but then I thought how little pity he has for me. And now he has involved you.”

  “So you told him what he wanted to hear?”

  “Yes. I apologized; I swore he is my whole world and no one could ever love him the way I do—all the things he has said to me over the years. Then, later, when I was finally sure he was asleep, I left. But I don’t have much time. When he wakes up and finds I’m gone, he will . . . well, I don’t want to think about it. This isn’t how I wanted to do it, Father, with no clear plan in place, but there is no turning back now.”

  “Where are you?”

  “At the Pink Dolphin Motel on Beach Road. Room 4B.”

  “And your daughter?”

  “Cynthia is driving her off Cape as we speak. Robert won’t look for her or try to bring her home until he finishes with me.”

  Gus shuddered. “I’m more than an hour away. And I need to stay here until—”

  “Did you hear what I just said? Robert is out looking for my car right now. I should have parked it somewhere else, but I’m still weak, and I’m afraid if he sees me walking . . .” Her voice trailed off. “You said you know people who can help me get away.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can, but right now you have to call the police.”

  “No police,” she said vehemently. “The moment a call comes in on the radio, Robert’s friend would
alert him . . . Please hurry, Father.”

  When Gus looked up, Nick was watching him. “It was her, wasn’t it? That woman—”

  “She’s in trouble, Doc. Serious trouble. I promised Hallie I would stay till she got back, but something’s happened. I have to go to her.”

  Nick attempted to speak, but pain stopped him. He grimaced as he rearranged his legs beneath the blanket.

  “Can I get you something?” Gus asked.

  Nick pointed at a bottle of tablets on the table. “One of those and water.” He groaned again. “On second thought, make it two. And forget the water. I’ll wash it down with a little glass of Madeira.” He indicated a small chest in the corner of the room.

  “I don’t know if you should be combining the two. You better wait till Hallie gets back,” Gus said, handing him the water.

  “Who’s the doctor here—me or you? Get me my Madeira. And then go. I’ll be fine here.”

  Gus made sure there was enough wood in the stove, then obediently poured Nick his glass of wine. “I don’t suppose you’d want me to bless you . . . ,” he said.

  “My daughter blesses me every time she walks in the room. That’s all the blessing I need.”

  “Just thought I’d ask. Tell Hallie—tell her I’m sorry.”

  “No need to apologize,” Nick said. “Not to either one of us.” In the morning light, he was alarmingly small and weak.

  Gus paused for a moment, and then reached out to touch a skeletal shoulder. “Adeus, Dr. Nick,” he said, remembering the way his grandmother always said goodbye, literally meaning: To God.

  Gus was walking through the door when Nick stopped him with his voice.

  “You, too, sweetheart,” he said, using the endearment he had uttered the day he found Gus in his mother’s closet. Adeus.”

  Gus closed the door softly and crossed himself.

  Chapter 20

  Could you drive a little faster?” Gus asked, leaning forward in the cab.

  “Faster, faster,” the man mumbled with a Portuguese accent. Probably Brazilian, Gus thought. “Everybody wants faster. But nobody gonna pay my ticket when I get stopped.”

 

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