The Possession (18 page)

She took my hands into hers and studied them, gathering her thoughts or, more likely, her words for them. “I just . . . I’m sure it’s more than tempting. That’s normal, it’s natural.”

Aunt dropped my hands and poked escaping hair back into her scrunchie as she leaned back in her chair. “I think you’re too young, Daphne. But in the end, what I think isn’t really going to matter. Just promise me you won’t make any decisions based purely on the fact that you have to leave soon. That’s not a good criteria.”

She leaned forward again and gripped my chin with affection. “You know you can come see me anytime you want. Even if you aren’t really coming to see me. And if what you feel is the real deal, it’s not going to die because you spend time apart. Not having sex won’t kill it, either.”

I nodded, all wise and grown-up-like. Then I threw my arms around her and we hugged tight.

The doorbell rang and we rose.

“Should I get that and bring him in? Or do you just want to leave?”

For some reason panic hit me. I felt my face freeze, eyes wide. I must have looked pretty pathetic, because Aunt made me sit down again. “Look up the comedy special for me, will you? I’ll get the door.”

I grabbed the newspaper and pulled out the television section as the outside door opened.

“Hi, Zach. Daphne’s in the front room.”

I buried my face in the paper. The fact that I couldn’t hear his response told me he was nervous, too. Aunt’s whispered voice soothed.

Like a mom.

I dropped the paper to my lap and anger flashed through my chest. It really wasn’t fair that both Aunt and Zach had been denied that opportunity.

They arrived in the doorway. I folded the paper with deliberate calm and stood. “Hi, Zach.”

“Hi.”

His hair was pulled back. He wore a teal striped button-down shirt. He had shoes on, not sneakers, and even with my heels, he was still taller than me.

“You kids want something before you go, or are you taking off now?” Aunt asked, keeping her place between the double doors.

“We have to get to the library before it closes,” Zach answered. “We should probably leave now.”

“The library?”

“Yeah. Oh, we’re going to the library, Aunt, then to get a bite to eat.” I looked to Zach, who nodded his head in agreement.

“Well.” I saw the bend of her head to hide her smile. “Have fun. Don’t be too late.”

“We won’t, Eddie.”

Aunt nodded, a lingering look at me, then headed up the hall. “Make sure you lock the door on your way out, Daph.”

At the car, Zach opened the door for me. Once behind the wheel, he put the key into the ignition but did not turn it. Instead, he looked at me from the safety of the other side of the car.

I took a deep breath. “We aren’t going to get all weird on each other, are we? I mean,” I swallowed, took a couple more breaths for good measure, “I like things the way they are. I don’t want to be nervous around you.”

I whipped my head away from him, my eyes fastening on the door handle. Did I actually just say that?

His hand slid down my forearm then covered mine. “I don’t want us to be nervous, either.” He tugged my hand. “I like us, too.”

My head turned slowly in his direction. When our eyes locked, he chased my fear away with his smile. “Nothing will change that.”

I met him halfway. Our lips connected, hearts joined, and a throbbing pulse overtook my worry. We almost got lost in it. I pressed the side of my face to his. “We’ll figure this out. Won’t we?”

He ran his hand over my cheek, across my neck, and down my braid. “We’ll figure it out.”

We separated, snapped in our seatbelts, and headed toward town.

The tiny, white-haired Mrs. Rice was gracious. “Oh, I might have just what you need. Can you come back at closing? Eight o’clock? We can go around the corner to the Historical Society headquarters. It shouldn’t take long.”

Zach and I conferred, then thanked her. “We can do that. Thanks. We’ll be back at eight.”

It was six o’clock.

“Where should we go to eat?” I asked as we headed down the library stairs.

“Waves?”

Tim E.’s Waves was a relatively new place, but all the kids had already adopted it as their own. It had sort of a beach shack/concession stand atmosphere with awesome music in the jukebox. Burgers, fries, pizza, and clam cakes were the popular menu items. Everyone went there.

“Sounds good.”

The waitress gave us a horseshoe booth distant enough from the jukebox that we could hear each other talk without yelling. We’d barely had time to start a conversation, though, when a group of four descended on our table.

They split into twos and surrounded us.

I recognized Roselea, and the blond kid Jake, who hung out with Chantal. Zach seemed to know the other guy. The dark-haired girl was a mystery.

“Hey, Zach,” Roselea slid in beside him and grabbed Zach by the arm, “make room. We’re joining you.”

Zach crinkled his brow and removed her hand. He’d gripped my hand beneath the table and squeezed reassurance, but his eyes were fastened on Jake.

Jake had entered my side of the booth and now sat beside me, the dark-haired girl on his other side. I moved as close to Zach as I could without climbing into his lap. He started to speak, but Roselea cut him off.

“Zach, you know Mickey. Jake.” She pointed to the dark-haired girl. “And that’s Jake’s girl, Emma. Guys, this is Zach’s girl, Daphne.”

But she wasn’t looking at me. She was watching Zach. To see his reaction to her introduction, no doubt. Zach ignored her, exchanging greetings and acknowledging the introduction to Emma. He turned to me. “Mickey’s a friend, from the Barrens.”

I nodded to let him know I understood we’d have to ride this out. The waitress hurried over, but we assured her it was okay that they stayed. We decided we’d each pick a menu item and share.

She took our order. As soon as she left the table, Jake leaned forward earnestly. Zach frowned and Jake looked to me. He got the message that he was too close and angled away.

“Look, man, I’m really sorry about what happened,” his gaze darted to me again, “at the library. I told Gary he was a real shit.”

“Yeah, that was cold,” Mickey chimed in.

I felt heat break out across my chest and start to rise up my neck, but my hands grew cold and clammy. Zach pressed his thigh to mine.

“Jake would never be in on something like that,” Emma added, and rubbed Jake’s arm. “He wouldn’t.”

Roselea piped up, “I do know Jake wasn’t involved.” She looked first at Zach, then at me. “He was up to Bar Harbor that day.”

Zach broke his silence, his tone final. “I know.”

I think each of us at that table understood—Zach had done his homework. He knew exactly who had been in on it. And he didn’t want it discussed any further. Jake leaned back and Emma slumped against him in relief.

“So who wants to pump some change into the juke?” Roselea raised her eyebrows at each of us, resetting the stage. When Jake and Emma had collected everyone’s quarters and requests and walked away, Roselea caught my attention with a tap to the arm.

I eyed her. She waved me close. We leaned toward each other over the table. I braced myself.

“I just want you to know, Daphne. I’m sorry, too.”

Her eyes held sincerity. I nodded acceptance; that unexpected bonus should not be brushed aside.

We actually had fun with them and the time flew. Before we knew it, eight o’clock was almost on us. We excused ourselves, Zach gave them our share of the bill, and we left.

Mrs. Rice waited in her car at the library curb. We followed her around the corner and entered the Historical Society. The low watt of the foyer bulb lent an eerie glow to the polished wood floor. She hurried past the first door on the left and flipped a switch in what looked like a small cubby.

The room to our right lit up.

We were greeted by a six-foot by six-foot reproduction of the layout of the lighthouse and its property as drawn in ink on parchment in 1799, in tandem with a twentieth century aerial view photograph. The photo had been taken during the winter months, providing a maximum view with so many of the trees bare of their leaves.

“Wow.”

“No help though, Daph. We can’t carry that home to study it.”

“Oh!” Mrs. Rice peeped like a happy chick. “I have this. You can borrow it, as long as I have it back by the weekend.” She gazed at us solemnly. “And you promise to take good care of it.”

“Yes. Of course,” we agreed.

She unlocked a glass case by the doorway and removed a thin volume. “Here. It’s a bound, mimeographed reproduction of the original, but it’s still quite old.”

“Oh, Mrs. Rice!”

“Thank you.”

We pumped her hand until it nearly fell off. I looked again at the title.

Bay Head Light, Property and Buildings.

A sudden rumble caught our attention. Light flashed through the windows.

A storm brewed.

The storm raged in high gear by the time we reached the lighthouse road. We splashed through deep puddles, noses almost to the windshield to keep on the road. Ruts caused us to pull our faces back to avoid smacking the glass. Tension was palpable.

Every streak of lightning brought my eyes to the tree line, worried that one would soon crash down upon us.

“Drive, Zach. Just drive,” I reassured, letting him know I kept vigil. I did not want to stop and get stuck out here in the elements.

We made it to the keep. Zach pulled up alongside the porch, garage side, and we ran up the stairs. I opened the door and Rowdy dashed out past us and disappeared around the corner.

“Rowdy!”

I looked at Zach. “Get Aunt. Meet me out back. We can’t leave him out here.”

Zach grabbed my arm. “Let’s go through the house to the connecting buildings. You can get Eddie. I’ll head for Rowdy.”

The wind blew a squall into my face.

“Okay.” I nodded, not sure he’d heard.

“Daphne! The door’s locked.”

The rain lashed viciously and lightning streaked the sky. The storm must have sucked the door closed. I scrambled for my keys, but they weren’t in my bag. We were wasting too much time.

“Let’s get Rowdy. I’ll find my keys later,” I yelled over the wind.

We pushed our way to the backyard. I spotted Rowdy over near the lighthouse, scrambling under the fence.

“Rowdy!” I yelled. “Heel!”

The dog froze, turning in my direction. Suddenly, he dropped to the ground, groveling and snorting at the lighthouse base.

The rough water smashed the stone barrier, cresting the rocks to splash up onto the lighthouse. Rowdy whimpered. I called to him again, smacking my hand against my leg.

Without warning, everything went dark.

My eyes flashed upward, along the lighthouse tower.

The light was out.

The light never went out.

I had to go up and fix it. Light the light.

“No!” The voice rang out through the storm. “I will go. Take cover.”

Everything around me shrunk. I stood still, but it felt like the space around me pulled inward. Lightning flashed and I was helpless; my day gown whipped around my legs, my heart constricting.

“Vincent!”

But he did not hear me. I had lost my child. I would not lose my husband, too. The light was my responsibility. I would not give them reason to blame him for that failing, as well.

I lashed my shawl around me and fought my way toward the lighthouse door.

Another wave swept in and Vincent was gone.

“Nooooooooo!”

I stood immobile, disbelieving. The next wave swept in, spitting him back, dashing him against the lighthouse. I raced to his side and hooked my arms beneath his. I would drag him back to the safety of the yard and get help.

Except there would be no help.

I would have to leave him and I could not leave. I would not have him die alone and I had to light the light before others died, as well.

“Dear God,” I bellowed, dragging my love bit by bit from the jaws of the sea, “what have we done to deserve this? What have I done?”

Nothing. We had done nothing wrong. He would not have fashioned us one for the other if it were not good, not meant to be.

Anger roared through me, taking my breath. I fought it back. I must keep a cool head if we were to survive.

A dog growled. My vision blurred.

Someone clung to the fence. I lowered my gaze to Vincent, but he was not there though he weighted me still. Shocked, I looked to the fence again, clearly visible in the flashing light.

The light had relit? Impossible!

Fence? This property did not boast a seaward fence.

“Stop it! Stop it now, Dorothea. Go away. For God’s sake, go away. Zach needs me.”

He had hooked his feet around the lower rung of the fence, interlocked, and reached out toward Rowdy who cowered at the base of the solitary scrub bush near the cliff. It was perhaps the single thing that had saved the dog from going over the edge.

I staggered to the fence and fell to my knees. Wedging my knees beneath the rung, I patted Zach’s ankle then wrapped my arms around his leg. His foot slid from the fence as he stretched farther and managed to get a hand on Rowdy’s collar.

The dog belly-crawled toward us, shaking with cold and fear. I held onto Zach until he was able to grab onto the fence and pull himself around. He crawled back between the rungs of the fence and into my arms.

The three of us huddled on the lawn, a shaking and shivering heap. We struggled to our feet. Zach looked toward the lighthouse door, but I shook my head and yelled above the wind, “Too dangerous. Too close to the sea.”

He nodded and, one arm wrapped around mine with hands gripped tight, he latched onto Rowdy’s collar and started us toward the oil house. The wind now at our backs, it seemed to push us toward safety, making our trek easier.

The oil house door wouldn’t budge.

We felt our way along the building, clinging, to the backhouse door. No luck.