Happy dramatically punctuated that dissertation by passing out cold.
Chapter 27
"You okay, kid?" asked Martha solicitously as she wrapped Sam’s shoulders in a heavy, yellow slicker.
Sam shivered. The wind had blown up an incoming gale and the evening air was thick with clammy mist. She automatically clutched the oversized slicker to herself. Everyone and everything all around her was now banked in an opaque film of fog.
"We’re in for one hell of a squall," Martha commented unnecessarily.
Sam turned to watch Fed and two other men hauling an anesthetized Happy none too gently from the lighthouse. Everyone had dispersed now. Gone on home to their waiting wives, suppers and beers. It was a disgruntled Mink Olenberg who’d been overheard to say, "Shit, we almost had us some excitement here."
Hours later Sam knew she was losing control of herself. She had wanted desperately to talk to Martha about it, but somehow, she hadn’t been able to find the right words. Martha had seen her home and safely settled with a warming cup of tea in her lap before she had reluctantly returned to her family.
There just hadn’t seemed to be any way to say, "Guess what? Per is either an angel or an alien ......... I can’t decide which," without sounding like a complete lunatic.
So instead, Sam had smilingly insisted to Martha that all was fine and let her go home.
With Happy so out of commission for the remainder of the evening, she had brought Spike home with her - for both their sakes. "Come on, good boy, you must be famished."
There was something comforting about the sound of the solid padding of the animal’s paws as he followed her down the foyer to the kitchen. The sidelights around the front door rattled loudly in a strong gust of wind. In the brightly lit kitchen, Sam opened a can of beans and franks for Spike, pouring most of it into one of her mother’s Spode dishes before placing it on the braided rug.
Picking up a tablespoon, she sat on the counter and proceeded to dig the remaining beans out of the can, licking the spoon thoroughly after each bite.
Companionably, the two ate their cold dinners in silence for a few minutes.
The lights only had to flicker once for Sam to know they would lose the electricity at some point that night. Perfect, she muttered, getting down from the counter and going into the pantry for candles. Much to her relief, she found a good stock compiled there. Even though everyone on the Island had been enjoying electricity for fifty years now, to this day no one really counted on it always being there - especially when they needed it.
Sam had placed the last candle into the brass holder when, after a final weak wavering of the lamps, all went utterly dark.
Automatically patting her jean pockets, she tried to locate her lighter. "Oh, great time to decide to give up smoking," she said outloud. Spike whimpered in agreement. Blindly rummaging about on the shelves, she located a half-filled box of kitchen matches. But before she had a chance to strike one, Spike was barking ferociously. Putting her hand on his back in the dark to steady him, Sam could feel his hair standing upright along the entire length of his spine.
"Easy, boy ..... easy," she murmured, stroking him gently. As much as it killed her to admit it, Spike’s sudden barking had spooked her. Barely daring to breathe, she stood stationary in one place, listening for whatever it had been that Spike may have heard.
The only sounds that came to her were of the heavy rain, wind and the anticipated creaking of an old house withstanding yet another nor’easter.
Nothing uncommon.
Emitting a sigh of relief, Sam turned to retrieve the matches she had dropped onto the table.
It was then that she saw him.
It was a form that was darker than dark. If he hadn’t been moving she probably wouldn’t have seen him at all as he silently approached the front door and lightly tried the handle. Frozen in place, Sam stood in the kitchen with a reassuring hand on Spike, staring down the unlit length of the foyer. Gently, she heard the door knob turning first this way and that. Then, nothing. Only silence. Straining to hear any movement at all, Sam waited.
Suddenly, Sam screamed as Per’s face was pressed tightly to one of the sidelights. She didn’t know if he could see her or not in the absolute blackness of the kitchen - and she really didn’t care. Some distant animal instinct she never knew she possessed screamed in her mind - RUN NOW.
Sam did just that. With Spike literally hard on her heels, she wheeled about and fled through the back kitchen door out into the obscurity of the night and pounding rain. Skidding clumsily off the slick back steps, Sam went down hard - right on her ass. She struggled frantically to get her footing on the drenched lawn. The unrelenting force of the wind tore her hair out of it’s braid and whipped it across her face. Somewhere over her head, she heard the agonizing crack of an immense branch as it was mercilessly severed from an aged oak tree.
Unsure of her sense of direction in the storm, Sam made for the gazebo. Once inside, she and Spike were able to safely camouflage themselves behind the thick screen of snarled bittersweet.
Shaking uncontrollably, Sam hunkered down in the dankness with her arm around Spike. She just needed to wait now. She had become so acutely attuned to the dog that she knew he was going to growl before he actually did. Spike sat back on his haunches, his head down, emitting a low rumble that slowly built in crescendo to an eerily high and mournful howl.
The structure’s entire side exploded with a suddenness that took Sam totally by surprise. Splinters of wood and fragments of shrub flew in all directions. Sam turned her head and quickly closed her eyes, protecting herself as best she could. When she opened them once again, it was to see Per towering menacingly above her.
Sam scrambled frantically to first her knees, then feet, charging headlong out of the gazebo. This time she didn’t know if Spike was with her or not. Terrified and beyond all rational thought, Sam was only aware of the heavy pounding of her feet on the damp earth. She quickly lost all track of her whereabouts in the murky darkness that surrounded her from all sides. Glancing back over her shoulder, Sam tried to define Per’s outline anywhere behind her in the blackness.
That was when it happened. Although, even if she had been looking straight ahead, it still wouldn’t have changed anything. The combination of darkness and fog made it impossible to see more than a foot in front of her in any direction.
All that Sam knew was that one moment she was firmly on the ground and the very next she was treading nothing but air.
Chapter 28
Gradually, Sam came to. It took her a few moments to acclimate herself. What the hell am I doing at Martha’s? She thought as she gingerly endeavored to sit up.
"Heh, don’t rush it." Martha scurried to the couch to assist her friend.
"You’ve had quite a nasty ordeal."
"Martha? What ......... ?"
"Hush," soothed Martha, gently pushing Sam’s hair back off her forehead, "you sleep now."
The next time she awoke the sun was streaming in through the windows.
The storm is over, was her first thought.
"She’s awake, Mom!" Kevin Jr., proud to have been the first among his brothers to discover that fact, loudly shouted to his mother.
"That will be enough yelling, son." Martha hurried to Sam’s side and shooed the boy away.
Carefully, she helped her friend sit up, banking her back with pillows. After an initial flash of dizziness, Sam felt fine. She tucked her legs comfortably under herself and asked, "What am I doing here, Martha?"
Martha turned to look at her friend with concern. "You don’t remember?"
She continued at Sam’s negative shake of her head. "Per brought you to us. In the middle of the night. Said you’d had some kind of an accident out by the cliff."
Sam stirred. Rapidly, faint images started pressing themselves in upon her. She weakly sat back against the pillows and closed her eyes for a moment. She’d been running in the storm. She could remember being afraid ..... very afra
id .......
for her life. Because of what? Or whom? Per ........... Per had been following her. Sam sat up straighter as memories from the previous night’s events rushed back to her. Jesus Christ, she had it all now.
She had been trying to get away from Per. She had thought he was going to hurt her. But the fog had been so bad she hadn’t been able to see where she was going.
My God, she thought completely stunned, I ran right off the fucking cliff!
Quizzically, she looked down at herself. A scratch here and there - her jeans, caked with mud, a bit worse for wear - but certainly nothing major. She could vividly recall the unnatural sensation of unrestricted nothingness around her heavily falling body. Why aren’t I lying in a broken heap on the rocks? She bewilderedly questioned herself.
Because of Per. That was why. With a shock that physically jolted her entire body, Sam distinctly remembered what had happened next. Per had come off the cliff after her and caught her rapidly descending body up into the safety of his arms.
The son of a bitch could fly.
Chapter 29
Everything about him exuded melancholy. There was no longer any point in carrying on the pretense. His identity had been discovered by both Sam and Happy.
Not that he really minded all that much. After all, it had been tiresome impersonating a human. So many exhausting emotions that had needed to go into the part in order to perform well. For many year-spans now he’d been playing that charade. Yes, Per was wearied.
Primarily, he was weary of humans. Per found them, overall, to be a tiring race.
In all the time that he had lived among them, they had never understood. As a whole, they were a race who firmly believed they existed with the absolute right to be happy. They have never comprehended that true happiness was not a right at all - it was an achievement. Something that needed to be diligently worked towards with integrity and principles.
Per sighed heavily. There was no denying that in all of his duration spent on this planet he had formed close relationships with a few, special humans. People who, when their lives had stopped, he had missed for a very long time afterwards.
Samantha was, perhaps, the most special of all. To Per, she embodied all that was fine and exceptional about the human race.
When he was younger, he had eagerly and utterly unsuccessfully tried to help guide various humans he had met to a more righteous path. Once, years ago, he had even been severely admonished by the Assembly for his endeavors. After all, he was there as an observer only and as such was expected to maintain a hands off attitude. It had taken many years of co-habitation on Earth before Per was able to admit to himself that this was a race who would never entirely evolve spiritually. Sadly, they would never learn how to bring about their own fulfillment. It wasn’t that they didn’t have a fine potential. It was just that the human race, as a whole, was a race devoid of consciousness.
Yes, he would honestly miss her when the time came. And the time was coming soon.
He had been foolhardy to have impulsively saved her life the previous night. To what purpose? He had only prolonged the inevitable.
Ruefully, Per gave himself a mental shake. He had a great deal to do. He needed to prepare for the final Event.
Chapter 30
In the end, it was the absolute realization that it was all over that resolutely made up Happy’s mind.
He’d lived a lot in his eighty plus years - it had been one hell of a continuous party. Looking back over it all, Happy couldn’t find too many regrets. He’d always done the best with whatever he’d been dealt. More importantly than that, he’d never whined.
Sure, he would have liked to have had a family like most men. Especially now, in his last years, it would have meant a lot to have children and grandchildren about. But for decades now Happy had been telling anyone who asked that he’d just never found a woman who suited him well enough. The real truth of the matter, though, was that no self-respecting woman would take him and his habits on for any memorable length of time.
"Suppose this is as good a time as any to face up to my drinking problem." He mumbled sullenly to Spike, who licked his hand anyway.
Good, old Spike. Happy gave the dog a vigorous scratching behind his ear. Hell, a man couldn’t ask more from a steady companion. He didn’t argue, didn’t complain and never once got upset when he came home stinking drunk.
Wanda and Sam were the only two people who meant anything at all to Happy. At least, he corrected himself, Wanda HAD meant something. Now that she was gone, he knew that nothing would ever be the same for him again. His and Wanda’s friendship had gone back a lot of years. He’d gotten sort of accustomed to it after all this time.
And as for Sam, well, she was like the kid of his own he’d never had.
Guess there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for her.
Well, old man, he smiled grimly to himself, let’s see if that’s true.
Happy shut Spike up in the rusty Ford Fairlane, leaving the windows cracked just enough to allow air to seep through but not enough for the dog to escape. He rubbed Spike’s head apologetically before closing the car door, "Sorry, boy. You can’t come with me this time."
Determinedly gripping his Winchester, Happy set out to find Per.
Chapter 31
It was late afternoon before Martha gave her grudging permission for Kevin to drive Sam home. By then, Sam had a massive headache that was only being compounded by all the children’s noise.
Exuding a sigh of relief, Sam leaned momentarily against the inside of the door savoring the silence around her. Slowly, she made her way to the kitchen. The back door had been left wide open from the night before, but aside from a thoroughly soaked kitchen floor and rug, there was no major damage done. Swans Island didn’t have much of a crime rate. Sam shut and locked the door before going up the back staircase to her bedroom.
She had made up her mind. She was going to Boston. Jake would have to listen to her if she showed up on his doorstep. And if he wouldn’t, well, she would just find someone else who would. Somewhere, there had to be someone who would believe her.
Quickly, she stripped off the filthy and tattered clothes, kicking them into a corner of the bathroom as she gratefully stood under the steaming shower. After last night’s ordeal, the steady pounding of the water against her bruised body felt nothing short of therapeutic. She was heavily tempted to linger, but knew she needed to hurry if she intended to make the 4:15 ferry off the Island.
Stopping at her desk only long enough to collect the small disc and her data - filled bag, Sam was out the door in a record twenty minutes. She fumbled in her bag for the keys as she ran to her car. After a few moments of frustration she finally located them and hurriedly turned the ignition. The clock on the dash read 4:08. She was going to make it on time after all.
Sam rapidly backed the car up, spinning gravel out from under her tires as she did so. Throwing the gear shift into drive, she shoved her foot down hard on the accelerator. She had almost reached the end of her driveway when the exit was suddenly blocked by the unexpected appearance of the Volkswagen bus.
Even with both her feet jammed on the brake, Sam couldn’t stop the car quickly enough at that speed on the dirt. She braced herself as best she could as her car continued to slide and then loudly but harmlessly crashed into the old bus.
Per was at her car door before she could get it open. He said nothing as he firmly took Sam by the elbow and propelled her out of the car. Stridently, Sam tried to shake his hand from her arm but Per would not relax his grip on her.
She faltered, stumbling to keep up as he strode purposely back down the long drive towards her house.
By the time they had reached the porch, Per was practically dragging her.
"Come on, Samantha," he said tightly, as he pulled her up over the steps and through the front door into the house. Once inside, he relinquished his iron grasp on her arm.
Rubbing the blood flow back into her numb right arm, Sam fur
tively glanced about.
I could try to run, she thought. But she knew that would be useless. Even if she could somehow get out of the house away from Per, where would she go? She was on an island, for Christ’s sake. Where the hell was she going to run to?
Watching her closely, Per saw her eyes alter as she quickly discarded one notion of escape after another. He didn’t want to harm her, but he knew he could not let her go now.
"Do you mind if I sit down?" Sam asked him grimly.
Immediately Per’s body relaxed. She was accepting the situation with, if not absolute grace, at least good sense.
"Please," he said, pointing to the parlor.
But instead of sitting, Sam started frantically going through her desk drawers.
"What are you looking for, Samantha?" Per tensed, thinking about the gun she kept somewhere. He was relieved, however, when she produced an unopened pack of cigarettes instead.
"So much for quitting ...... " she mumbled as she lit one. For a moment she smoked in silence. Then, as if newly fortified, she resolutely turned and looked directly at Per.
"Who the hell are you?"
Chapter 32
Drawn out seconds passed as Sam waited for his response. The very house itself seemed to have taken on an oppressive atmosphere. Everything seemed to be suspended, as if anticipating Per’s answer.
Outside the wind had begun to come up once again, sighing loudly and rattling the parlor windows. It looked like nightfall would bring yet another storm to the Island.
When at long last Per did speak, it was not to answer her question at all.
"I’m truly sorry about your child, Samantha. I realize how much you wanted to have him." His face was filled only with compassion for her and the suffering he knew she had endured. "You must believe me when I tell you that was a mistake. A
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