“Can I buy you both another cider?” he asks as he waves over a waitress.
Then we listen as Poor Angus fills the room with their voices. They’ve changed the mood from pensive to fun, singing about a bunch of fishermen who get drunk on the beach, and the music is so spirited I can’t stop tapping my toes. Peter notices and nods toward the dance floor where people are putting on quite a show, clogging and stomping.
“Want to join them?” he asks.
“Not me!” I laugh. “I can barely slow dance.” (This isn’t true. I love to dance, just not in public.)
Serena, with the long dark hair and dangling earrings, comes up behind Peter and taps him on the shoulder. “Come on, Pete!” she says, smiling. “Give me a whirl.” And she takes his hand.
In a way, I’m jealous. Not of Peter Dolman and the woman, but their freedom to dance with abandon, to not worry if they’re doing it right or look funny.
By the time we turn onto Grays Road it’s dark and has started to rain. Peter jerks to a stop just before my driveway. “What the hell?” he curses.
In the headlights, we can see two huge pieces of machinery parked on the side of the road. When I roll down my window, I don’t say a thing. The wind has been knocked out of me. While we were out, the Nelsons have moved in rented demolition equipment. The crane and bulldozer loom over my little cottage like dinosaurs from a Jurassic Park movie.
Prayer
It’s a cool evening and I can smell the oil from the machinery and winter coming, but I’m bundled up, sitting on the upper deck with Tiger. The trees are all leafless now. Only one seagull circles the bay, my guardian.
Suddenly into the silence comes an Eeeeeeek! Eeeeeeek! Eeeeeeek! and a rowdy bunch of blue jays lands in the bare cottonwoods. I haven’t even thought about jays, a common bird back in West Virginia. I assumed they didn’t live this far north, but here they are, hopping from branch to branch like small clowns. There are six of them. Eeeeeeek! Eeeeeeek!
As I watch, the clouds turn red and tumble across the sky like waves of fire. Then one by one the stars come out. I think about Lenny, wondering where he is and if he ever mailed my letter to Jessie. Did he make it safely to Europe or Mexico? Will he ever be back? So many people I’ve cared about have left me. Karen and Robyn and Lenny . . . On the other hand, I have left people too, Jessie and Richard and Linda, my midwife partner.
I think of my daughter, a little speck of light like a star and just as far away, a trillion light years. The pain of leaving her is still there, but since I sent the note, it’s grown dimmer. If I only knew she’d received it and she was alright, I could lay one of my burdens down.
Tonight, under the stars, I get down on my knees. The deck boards are already covered with frost. Like a Catholic sister in a cold chapel, I begin.
“Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women . . .
“Holy Mary . . . All I ask is that my daughter be safe and be happy. That’s all any mother wants in the end.”
Then I remember another prayer to Mary, a song by the Beatles, and that brings me comfort too. When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me, Speaking words of wisdom, let it be. Let it be.
BLUE JAY
A medium-sized noisy bird
Bright blue with gray underparts and a black necklace
Range: Lives east of the Rockies as far north as southern Canada
Habitat: Prefers forests and fields
Diet: Omnivorous, eats seeds, small caterpillars, insects, loves acorns
Call: a high-pitched jeeeer jeeeer
Winter Again
CHAPTER 46
Discovery
I wake at sunrise, hearing geese bark, and run out on the deck to see three huge flocks in long Vs flying south against wave after wave of pink clouds. How do they know that it’s time? How do they know where to go?
Snow is falling, big flakes like feathers, the first of the season, and I open my mouth to catch some. What a wonderful world we live in, I think. How could anyone not believe in God if they saw this? (Richard didn’t believe, I remember, and he loved the earth as much as I do.)
All along the edge of the lake, ice is forming. “Am I crazy to live here?” I ask Tiger when I come back inside. “Last winter when I arrived, my life was falling apart, but this year, I’m choosing to stay on the island . . . Am I crazy?” I ask again. He just licks his paw.
Around four, I get out a broom and mop to begin a serious cleanup. I’ve been so worried about the imminent destruction of Seagull Haven that I’ve let the place go. I start in the kitchen scrubbing everything down, including the floors. I move on to the bathroom and then the living room, spending twenty minutes dusting Lloyd and Wanda’s seagulls. As I’m sweeping the bedroom, I see something shiny between two of the floorboards and when I kneel down, I realize that it’s a thin metal chain.
What’s this? I think, as I try to work the chain out of the crack with a safety pin. Gently tugging this way and that, I finally hold in my palm a delicate silver bracelet with a small sailboat charm.
“What do you think?” I ask Tiger, dangling it in front of him. “A new toy?” He gives it a swat. Maybe it was Wanda’s or maybe Charlene’s. That’s when I notice there’s a name on the boat. I hold it up to the light and go as cold as the ice along the shore of Lake Erie. The name engraved there is Charity.
Shocked, I sit down on the bed. Charity was once in this cottage . . . Then a disturbing thought comes to me. The girl was raped and found tied in the woods on the other side of Gull Point. Could the Nelson brothers have been involved? Instinctively, I know that they were . . . but she said her attackers were hippies.
I stare at the bracelet, wondering what I should do with it. Give it to Charity’s mother, Helen? That would only cause the family more pain. Give it to Officer Dolman? The rape case was never solved.
I pace the house until it’s nearly dark, mulling things over, jiggling the bracelet in my hand. “Meooowww!” cries Tiger, alerting me that something is wrong and I pick up my head. Is that a vehicle coming? A white BMW pulls into the drive.
Mistake
Charlene Nelson and her brother Jake get out of the white convertible, both looking like jewel thieves, black pants and black knit caps pulled over their hair. The wind has come up and they pull their coats close.
What the hell do they want? Peter told me to call him if they came back, but before I can lock the door or get to the phone, the two are up on the porch. Quickly I open a kitchen cupboard and drop the bracelet in a teacup. The Nelsons knock once and let themselves in.
“Excuse me!” I say. “This is still my home. You can’t just walk in here whenever you like!”
“We knocked.” That’s Charlene. “We’re still your landlords, remember. Do you have something to hide?”
“No, but I’d appreciate it if you gave me a chance to come to the door. How did you even know I was dressed?”
“We didn’t,” Jake says with a leer. “That’s what makes it interesting.”
“Listen, Sara,” Charlene says, taking off her cap, shaking out her dark thick hair and ignoring her brother. “We don’t know what you’re up to, getting involved with the law and siding with the environmentalists against us, but it won’t work.”
Jake takes a chair at the kitchen table and leans back against the wall. “Yeah. We’ve tried to be nice, but we’re about out of patience. We want to give you one more chance to tell us what you want. If it’s money, name your price.”
I turn to him, not believing I heard right. “Money? You think I’m opposing the casino for the money? I told you, I found Lloyd’s handwritten will. I turned it in to Sergeant Dolman, and that was the end of my involvement. You’re correct that I think a four-story hotel and casino on this beautiful spot is a bad idea, but that’s just my opinion and I don’t carry a lot of weight on the island.”
“Sara, I think you misunderstood Jake,” Charlene interrupts in a voice as sweet as cotton
candy. “We’re not offering a bribe. We’re just asking what you need for relocation. We own some reasonable condos in Sandusky on the US side of Lake Erie. In fact, if you wanted to move this week, I could give you the keys to a nice one-bedroom tomorrow. I’d sign the deed over to you just to get you out of our hair. I’d hate to have to evict you or take other action. I don’t think you’d like that either.”
“That’s a very generous offer, but I’m not interested. The island is my home now. What I’d like is for you to get out of here.”
Jake stands up and leans over me. “I guess we will when we’re done, but I really don’t think you want to cross us. You’re very isolated out here, Miss Livingston.”
“And what? What? You’ll beat me up and rape me like you did Charity?” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I know it’s a mistake and I want to suck them back, but it’s too late.
“You bitch!” Jake grabs my wrist and pulls me toward him so that I can smell the alcohol on his breath.
This time Charlene doesn’t intervene. She just stands there with a strange smile on her face, as if she’s enjoying it. “I think you’re getting the idea now,” she snarls, and then she pulls her knit cap back over her hair. “Come on, Jake, let’s go. We’re leaving, but we’ll be back.”
The bully twists my wrist a little further until he brings me to tears, then pushes me away so hard I drop to the floor and am still sitting there crying when their BMW roars out of the drive.
Night Ride
I sit on the floor in the middle of the kitchen, stunned. What to do now? The Nelsons don’t know I have the bracelet, but they said they’d be back. It’s not safe to stay here and I have to get the bracelet to Dolman. I try to call, but he doesn’t pick up, so I leave a message.
“It’s Sara. The Nelsons were here again and I’ve done something stupid. It’s too dangerous for me to stay at the cottage, so I’m biking toward your office. Please come.”
Before I leave, I put Tiger in the bathroom, but then change my mind. If the Nelsons return, they’re crazy enough to burn the house down. “Okay, Tiger, we’re going for a ride in the dark, so don’t give me any trouble.” I grab the bracelet, tie my cat with his leash into the padded basket, and then strap a flashlight to the handlebars.
It’s a bitterly cold night and the sky’s spitting snow, but I lower my head into the wind and push on. I pass Molly Lou’s but the lights are off so they must be at church. I pedal by the Cider Mill, but they’re closed for the season. No lights at Jed’s clinic either and the pub has a sign that says SEE YOU NEXT SPRING. The village is deserted.
“It’s okay, Tiger. It’s okay,” I say to reassure myself. Even the ferry terminal is dark.
A few hundred yards from the cop shop, I see headlights coming my way. Could that be the Nelsons returning to Gull Point? I use my last bit of energy, push harder on the pedals and just make it to the cop shop, intending to hide around back, but I’m not quick enough. The beams flicker over me. Did they see? Tiger meows, protesting the rough treatment. “Hush. Shush!” I shrink into the shadows on the side of the building, not moving a hair, willing myself to be invisible.
False Witness
Take a deep breath,” Dolman says, getting out of the squad car and unlocking the door to his office. I do what he says, breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth like a cleansing breath in hard labor. I do it again and wipe my nose with the back of my hand.
“I’ll put on some hot water,” he says. “Big storm’s coming in tonight; Arctic air mass moving south. I got your message and came as fast I could. I was up on the north end. So what’s happening?” Dolman asks, getting out tea bags.
I take another deep breath. “As I said on the phone, the Nelsons came to my cottage again.” His face doesn’t change. His head doesn’t move.
“And . . . ?” he asks. Outside, the surf pounds against the ferry dock. Boom. Boom.
“And . . . they tried to bribe me. Offered to move me into a condo in Sandusky and give me the deed.” Peter smiles. “That doesn’t sound so bad.” I tell him the rest of the story and end with Jake grabbing me and pushing me down.
“And it gets worse. I think I did something stupid.” Here I reach in my jeans pocket and hold out the delicate silver bracelet. Dolman takes it and lets it dangle between his fingers.
“I found this between the floorboards in the bedroom this afternoon. Read the inscription.”
The cop squints, then puts on his glasses and finally understands. “Charity . . . Charity was once at Seagull Haven. . . . I distinctly remember interviewing the Nelson men during the investigation and they denied knowing her . . . Did you tell them you found this? If you did you’re in more danger than before.”
“No, I didn’t mention the bracelet, but I did throw Charity’s name at them. ‘What are you going to do?’ I said to Jake as he held on to me. ‘What are you going to do, beat me up and rape me like you did Charity?’ ”
“And their reaction?”
“Jake was pissed, but he didn’t deny it. Then he called me a bitch and threw me to the floor. Charlene looked like she was enjoying it and said they’d be back.”
Peter runs his hands through his short hair. “You know where they found her, don’t you? Charity? Not far from your cottage in the woods on the other side of Gull Point. But why did she say her assailants were hippies? Why did she bear false witness?”
“I thought the same thing. Maybe she was afraid. Maybe they threatened to kill her.”
Dolman’s phone whistles and he looks at his text. “It’s Jed, at the marina,” he says. “Shit. What jerk would go out on the water on a night like this? I gotta go over there.”
He pulls his coat back on. “You stay here, Sara. They won’t look for you here. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Lock the door and turn out the lights. Pull all the shades.”
CHAPTER 47
Courage
As I push the door closed, I hear the island emergency siren go off on the tower behind the clinic, a long wail rising in pitch and repeating three times over, communicating the need for the island volunteer emergency squad to check their phones and follow the instructions texted to them by Jed or Dolman. The siren wails again. I pull down the blinds, turn out the lights and lock the door, then sit down with Tiger in my lap.
A few minutes later, I hear a rattle on the window and peek out to see water running down the glass. A huge wave has made it over the breakwall and across the narrow road.
Thinking that the Nelsons are not likely to come here with the weather so bad, I pull on my parka and grab my flashlight. When I step out . . . I almost fall on my butt again. The wave that made it over is already freezing and there’s a thin sheet of ice over everything . . .
I can’t help myself. I have to see what’s happening on the lake, so holding on to the side of the building, I creep up to the road. Splash, the spray hits me. Splash . . . Slosh . . . Splash . . . Splash.
The lake is in chaos. There’s no organization to the surf. Huge whitecaps race the wind, pushing chunks of ice in front of them. Boom. Boom. The little ferry, lashed to the dock, is rocking and rolling. It’s exhilarating and frightening at the same time. I want to howl with the wind and I do! “Ahhhooooo! Ahhhhooooo!”
Then I see a sight I could never have imagined. Four-inch ice needles begin to form on the rocks and as they grow they fall over and tinkle like a thousand tiny silver bells. I stand watching with my mouth open. When I reach down to touch them, I pull my hand away. The crystals are too cold! Too strange!
Crash! Another big wave leaps the breakwall, almost pushing me over. I’d better go back inside before my wet clothes freeze. I shine my light across the silver ice-covered road and creep back inside.
Inside Dolman’s office, I shake my wet parka, turn up the thermostat and sit down in the dark again, wondering what to do now. Peter said to stay put and there’s no way I want to ride my bike home in this weather, so using my flashlight I explore his books. Here’s one th
at looks interesting, The Last Policeman. I’m deep into the first chapter when the phone rings.
Pretending I’m a cop, I pick up the receiver. “Seagull Island OPP.”
“Hey,” a familiar voice responds. “It’s Jed. Quit kidding around. We have a potential disaster over here. I’m not sure how many people are on the loose sailboat, but the lake is so rough I’m afraid it will go down. Molly Lou is on her way up to the village to get you. I need you to set up a triage station in the tavern. Tell her the roads are a sheet of ice, take the turns slow or she’ll end up in a ditch.”
Twenty minutes later, Molly honks outside Dolman’s office and, leaving Tiger to guard the place, I carefully walk out to her Subaru and get in. “Jed says there may be injured at the marina. I wonder what’s happening.”
“I don’t know,” Molly says, leaning forward and gripping the steering wheel as we slide at the turn onto Middle Loop. “But I can’t stay. I left Little Chris home in bed. Big Chris took the pickup when the siren went off. I hate it when someone does something stupid and other people have to risk their lives saving them.”
“Is there a Coast Guard station here with a rescue service?”
“No, that’s the trouble. In the summer we have a Coast Guard boat, but it’s docked in Kingsville on the Canadian side now. Everyone on the island who owns a watercraft has already pulled his or hers out for the winter. All we have are two motorized inflatable Zodiacs the Coast Guard left, safe enough in the summer but not with the lake like this.” You can tell that she’s worried.
When we get to the marina, I hurry through the now flying snow toward the ambulance. It’s parked close to the docks with its lights still flashing, red . . . blue . . . red . . . blue. Jed stands in a yellow slicker with the hood up, a cell phone at his ear. Out at the end of the pier, the waves look like they are topping ten feet.
The Runaway Midwife Page 27