by Devon Glenn
The being moved closer to Rahul, whispering in his ear, “Could you live on light alone?”
When Rahul opened his eyes, he was flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. If a trip to a celestial opening couldn’t keep his mind focused and his urges in check, he didn’t know what would. He usually felt alert and grounded after meditating, but despite the beautiful vision he had just shared with Dar, he emerged from his meditative state with a different feeling. It took him a minute to think of what to call it.
Unsatisfied.
Rahul looked at the group of women stretched out on their mats, their eyes still closed in silent meditation, and couldn’t help but feel relieved to be back on the ground, close to Dar in her physical form. He watched her chest rise and fall and wished he could rest his head on the warmth of her body, remembering how her cheek had felt against his just moments before.
He looked away from her and faced the back wall to count his breaths, the number of engravings on the pressed tin ceiling above—anything he could think of to take his mind off the desire he felt. Rahul had to admit that the way he had touched Dar during the lesson was crossing into dangerous territory.
“You may slowly and carefully return to the room,” he instructed the class. “Stretch your legs and arms, move your head back and forth, and when you are ready, you can stand up.” The class mumbled as they struggled to wake up and pull themselves off the ground. “How do you feel now?” Rahul asked Dar, which immediately woke Lottie from her meditation.
“Hot!” Lottie said. Rahul could not have said it better himself. “I’ll have our bartender fix some lemonade before craft time starts,” Lottie offered. “The ladies and I will be making wreath and flag decorations for the Fourth of July.”
“What is the significance of the Fourth?” Rahul asked.
“Our independence from British rule,” Elva explained.
“I’ll drink to that,” Rahul said wryly.
“Well, everyone’s free from tyranny while they’re on vacation, aren’t they?” Lottie said, hoping to redirect the conversation.
Rahul hadn’t been in America long, but it was long enough to see that this former colony was not much different from his home. In front of him, the beach was divided into two unequal parts, with the light-skinned bathers on one end, and the dark-skinned bathers on the other. Though there were no signs enforcing the division, he had to wonder which side of the beach he would be on if he were not here on official business.
But he was disarmed by Dar’s voice as she asked him sweetly, “Won’t you stay and have a glass of lemonade with us before we go our separate ways?” If propriety was the only thing keeping him from granting her request, there was an easy remedy for that. Once he had severed his ties with his business partner, he was free to do as he wished.
Outside, the ocean view on a perfect summer day had drawn a smattering of visitors who were sitting on the veranda, sipping glasses of cold lemonade. While Lottie disappeared into the restaurant to request a pitcher from the bartender, Elva sat beside Beth and patted her hand.
“Are you planning to visit your relatives like Miss Crossing suggested?” she asked.
“I think so,” Beth said with hesitation. “But I’m reluctant to travel south in such humid weather. Perhaps in the fall.”
Rahul saw Dar look over at the girl in alarm, but he knew there was little she could do to help Miss Johnson if the girl wasn’t willing to heed good advice. “How did you all enjoy the meditation today?” he asked instead, looking around the table to draw the other women into the conversation.
“I tried to concentrate on my breath,” Elva said wistfully, “but I was thinking about my knitting the whole time!”
Rahul nodded in understanding. No one would bother sitting on the floor counting their breaths if they didn’t constantly have worries like these running through their heads, however insignificant they might seem. “How so?” he asked to keep her talking, glad to have successfully redirected the conversation.
Lottie emerged from the restaurant holding a tray of lemonade in a pitcher and several glasses. As Elva answered Rahul, Lottie filled each glass to the top before passing it around the table.
“I was working on a pair of woolen booties for a new baby at my church when snap! I pulled too hard on a piece of yarn and broke it in two,” she explained. “I was so frustrated that I had to put it aside before the whole thing came unraveled.”
“You could tie the broken pieces in a knot,” Rahul suggested, “but if you rub the frayed ends together with a little bit of spit, the mended thread will fit seamlessly into the whole. The baby won’t feel any lumps.”
The others turned their heads toward him, suspicious of how this interloper in women’s talk had learned their language so quickly. “Do you sew, Rahul?” Elva asked, bewildered.
“No, but my family owns a textile mill,” he explained. “We manufacture jute. I’ve seen plenty of weak fibers break apart on the loom.”
“Oh! I had no idea,” Beth exclaimed. “How did you end up in Cape May?”
“I have business to conduct with Mr. Carl Digges, and my intention was to meet him in Washington, but my ship arrived too early,” Rahul said. “Eventually I learned that he was spending his holiday in Cape May, so I followed him here.”
It was only partially true. Rahul had been in Washington for about a week when he spotted the arresting photo of a young woman on the cover of a tabloid. From a wild tale that began with a goat and ended with a man crashing through a ceiling and landing on a crystal ball, Rahul had learned that there was a physic medium living in the very place that Mr. Digges was scheduled to arrive. He had decided it was worth a try to ask her why Priya was haunting his picture.
Elva chuckled. “What an adventure!” she said. “What do you plan to do now that you’re here?”
“I hope to spend as much time relaxing and enjoying the sea air as I can. I’m taking over for my father at the mill when I return.”
“Not before you sign our contract.” Carl Digges had appeared behind Beth and was rudely leaning over the woman’s shoulder to pass Rahul the paperwork. “You can keep your copy for your records. I’ve brought my own.”
“Brother, dear, you do know how to kill a party,” Lottie called. “Can’t this wait until later?”
“I’m afraid not,” Carl said. “I told George and Horace that I’d meet them at the casino at Sewell’s Point.”
“By all means, let me sign the paperwork now. I don’t mean to keep you here any longer than necessary.” Rahul couldn’t hide the disdain in his tone; he had crossed entire oceans to sign this form, but Carl couldn’t sit down for one glass of lemonade to chat with the person with whom he had been doing business for many years? Rahul took the paper from Carl’s hands and flipped through the pages to the blank line that was marked with an X. Rahul borrowed a pen from Carl, scribbled his signature on the line, and handed it back to him without regret.
“What is it that you do with the jute?” Dar asked after Carl had stuffed the contract in his vest. The conversation was becoming a polite tennis match of volleying topics to the next player before they became uncomfortable.
“We weave the fiber into gunny sacks,” he explained. “And other companies take the sacks we make and fill them with other goods—mostly cotton.”
“Then what do they do with the cotton?” Dar asked.
“Look at your skirts and you tell me.” Rahul gazed at the other women at the table when he said this. Although their skirts were long and straight, they gathered at the back in a way that made the women’s rear ends seem enormous. A round of giggles confirmed his suspicions that their curves weren’t entirely natural.
Carl sniffed and rubbed his nose. “There is too much pollen on this veranda. It’s aggravating my sinuses.”
“I’m sure the pollen won’t be able to reach you in the gambling hall,” Rahu
l said gently.
“Good day, then,” Carl said. He looked at Rahul as though he, too, should find an excuse to leave, but Rahul stayed planted in his seat. Now that they were no longer business partners, Rahul was under no obligation to play by Carl’s rules. And he knew exactly how he wanted to spend the rest of his time in Cape May.
While the others continued chatting, Rahul sat down casually next to Dar, and suggested an alternate plan for the afternoon in a voice that was too low for the others to hear.
CHAPTER 7
Horseshoe crabs and
a bathing machine
Summer in Cape May brought two things: tourists and horseshoe crabs. The clear sky turned the water a brilliant blue, beckoning to men and women to wade into the frothy waves. The sea tugged at their garments and loosened their hair, nudging them toward one another in a sanctuary of watery lawlessness, where the women could tread water near the admiring eyes of the men.
The horseshoe crabs were less subtle. They crossed the Delaware Bay each spring, riding the high tides under the full moon to reach Cape May between May and June. Their armored bodies scuttled across the sand in droves, the females digging holes in the sand to deposit eggs. These females latched on to the males, forming chains—living shell necklaces—as the horseshoe crabs dragged one another across the sand to fertilize their buried treasure.
The animals had helmetlike shells to protect their tender underbellies, their spiked tails pushing into the sand to keep them upright in the arthropod stampede.
To protect the swimmers’ tender parts, there were bathing machines. Made of wood, with four walls and a canvas rooftop, they looked like outhouses on wheels. These horse-drawn carriages wheeled their precious cargo to the edge of the shore and left the bathers behind to change into their costumes and descend tiny wooden ladders into the water, tethered to the cabin with a rope around their waists.
“I will meet you on the beach later this afternoon,” Rahul had said quietly to Dar while Lottie was pouring lemonade and Elva was speaking to Beth. “In one of the changing tents with the yellow stripes.”
“My mother would throw a fit if she found out,” Dar protested. “People would see us. The fish would see us.”
Rahul was one step ahead of her. “Aren’t the others preparing the wreaths and flags for your Independence Day celebration next month?” He hovered closer to Dar’s ear. “We’ll finally be able to float together on earth.”
Dar smiled at the memory of the two of them floating blissfully in the open ocean, miming the free stroke as they swam astral circles side by side. “I do have an old bathing machine,” Dar whispered. “I’ll have my driver take me to the beach, and I can meet you in the water.”
“Or I’ll climb in when your driver isn’t looking, and we’ll go down to the water together. If the water is empty, I’ll wade in with you. If it’s not, I’ll watch you swim.”
Dar did the geometry in her head, moving her body and his like puzzle pieces inside the machine. She blushed. “We can’t both climb in at once,” she argued halfheartedly. “We won’t fit.”
Rahul bore his amber eyes into Dar’s gray ones. “You would be surprised by where I can fit.”
With an enhanced mental picture causing a warm sensation beneath her skirts, Dar blushed and returned to the group, where Lottie had returned with another round of lemonade.
Lottie dabbed at the beads of sweat on her brow and sighed. “The heat is too scorching for this much stimulation,” she said. Spreading her fan to shield her lips, she turned to Dar with a look of urgency on her face. “I need you to distract the others,” she whispered. “Rahul is too shy; I think it’s time for me to make a move.”
Although she knew she would have to come clean with Lottie about what was going on with her and Rahul, Dar was so distracted by the sheer force of her attraction that she couldn’t quite put it into words. So Dar settled for allowing Lottie to chase her crush to its predictable dead end.
“Leave it to me,” Dar replied. She clinked her glass with her spoon. “Ladies, my mother has been too busy rustling up guests in Washington to oversee the preparations for this evening’s party,” she said. “I will, unfortunately, be bowing out of craft time. But Lottie said she’d check in on me in a few hours.”
Rahul smiled, catching her eye with a look of affection and anticipation. Dar set down her spoon, and her fingers just slightly brushed against Rahul’s. The unexpected touch sent an electric charge through Dar’s arm. In her mind’s eye she had the sudden, strange image of soldiers riding horseback across the beach, their leather-and-brass helmets gleaming in the sunlight, creating a barrier in front of the sea. One soldier looked up at her and winked.
“Three o’ clock,” the soldier said. Dar knew that the flag event would start at two o’clock, giving Rahul just enough time to make an appearance in the hotel before going to Dar’s house and sneaking into her bathing machine. To give him time, she would wait an hour before she announced to her valet that she was ready for a swim.
Nearby, Lottie shot her friend a look of gratitude, and it was understood that Dar didn’t really expect Lottie to show up at her door. Though I doubt she’ll find Rahul at his, thought Dar. Lottie’s face was shining with infatuation for Rahul, who regarded her with an amused smile. Her interest in Rahul blinded Lottie to the woman sitting next to him.
Dar’s cheeks were flushed; she adjusted the flowers on her bonnet haphazardly, like she was picking wildflowers in a meadow. Her fingers itched to move toward Rahul’s and feel the electric pulse once more.
Rahul looked at her faraway expression with understanding. “You will be missed,” he said.
CHAPTER 8
A loosened corset
Just as the grandfather clock struck three, Mrs. Fields poked her head into the séance room, looking with concern at Dar’s furrowed brow.
“Dar,” she said kindly. “You’ve shut yourself in this sweltering room all day. Would you like to take a turn outdoors? Get some fresh air before the sun goes down?”
The young medium smiled at her maid; she had calculated her plans for this afternoon right down to the minute. Now the time had arrived.
“The heat in here is oppressive,” Dar agreed. “I suppose I could use some refreshment.” She wiped off her Ouija board with a clean cloth, swept crumbs of biscuits from the tabletop with her hands, and looked up at Mrs. Fields nonchalantly. “May I go for a swim?”
Mrs. Fields looked surprised. “It is a little late in the day for the beach,” she thought aloud, “but if that is what it takes to lure you out of here, then I will fetch your costume and alert Mr. Fields.”
“Thank you,” Dar said, getting up from her seat and trying to restrain herself from racing down the hall, sliding down the bannister, and leaping into Rahul’s arms.
She waited calmly on the front porch while Mr. Fields attached the horse to the bathing machine, stealing an affectionate kiss from Mrs. Fields before she went back inside to tend to the house. Dar subtly looked around at every bush and tree, hoping to catch a lurking shadow, but the yard appeared to be empty.
“It’s ready, miss,” Mr. Fields told her. “Mrs. Fields put your costume in there for you.”
Dar’s heart stopped. If Mrs. Fields had put the costume inside the machine, she surely would have screamed bloody murder once she saw the grown man hiding inside. Rahul must not have made it in there. Fighting her disappointment, she twisted her lips into a fake smile for the sake of her valet. “Thank you, Mr. Fields,” she said. “I can let myself in—you stay where you are.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, hoisting his body into the driver’s seat and clasping the reins. Dar climbed gingerly into the carriage, shutting the door quickly behind her and latching the lock. Mrs. Fields had hung her swimming costume from a hook on the wall. Finding herself alone, Dar sank onto the storage bench inside in despair. “Damn,” she sighed.
&n
bsp; As the bathing machine made its slow ride across the sand to the water, Dar felt something rattle beneath her backside. She stood, startled, as the lid beneath her pushed up. “Hello?” she said. Peering into the storage area of the bench, she laughed with surprise to find Rahul, curled into a fetal position so that his body fit inside the base of the storage bench, his face beaded with perspiration from being confined in a small space for what must have been several minutes.
“I thought you would never find me,” he said with relief, but the look on her face at the sight of his body was worth every agonizing minute.
Her heart fluttering, Dar grabbed both of Rahul’s hands and lifted him carefully and quietly out of the storage bench. “What are you doing in here?” she said. “I thought you would be hiding in the trees.”
Rahul moved his feet to where she stood, his face just inches from hers. As the cart jiggled through the street, their bodies pressed against each other for balance. Dar knew the two of them would be alone for a period of time. She even envisioned them swimming together if the beach was empty enough. But she was not prepared for the feeling of his body so close to hers. She always thought that it would feel wrong to be so near a man she barely knew, that she would automatically recoil from an inappropriately timed touch, no matter how charming the man was. So when Rahul put his hands around Dar’s waist, she was surprised by how natural it felt. “I wanted to be completely out of sight,” he explained. “Everyone stares at me here. Why is that?”
“I suspect it is because they think you are handsome.”
“Do you think I’m handsome?”
“What would happen if I said yes?”
“I would try to kiss you.”
“In that case, you are the most handsome man I have ever seen.”
Rahul pressed his lips against hers, and Dar kissed him back, sighing as he moved on to her ear and left a trail of kisses down the length of her neck.