Kiss River (31 page)

Monday, May 11, 1942

W
hat have I done???? Was it the right thing to do? I am not certain I’ll ever have the answers to that question. All I know is that I feel terribly sick. I threw up all last night, and now I’m lying here in this strange bedroom in a strange house in a strange town, and I can hear Dennis and his sister, SueAnn, talking in the living room, although I don’t know what they’re saying. I’m sure they’re talking about me, though. SueAnn was shocked when I arrived, that I know, but she’s been kind to me, and she’s the one who brought the chicken rice soup that’s getting cold on the night table next to me. I can’t eat yet. I can’t imagine ever wanting to eat again, actually.

One thing I didn’t know about Dennis is how extremely Catholic he is. I mean, I knew he wore that scapular thing, and I knew he always went to the Catholic service up in Corolla, but I had no idea what a big part of his life religion is. SueAnn is the same way. She’s a nurse at a Catholic hospital. There are little statues of Jesus and Mary all over this house, and pictures of Jesus with his heart showing. I feel like I’m in a whole other country.

So much has happened, although it’s only been a little more than a day since I last wrote in this diary. Yesterday morning, after I woke up from the hideous dream about Sandy clubbing my parents to death, I went out to the beach to where Dennis was camping. I told him I wanted to take him up on his offer to go away with him to High Point. He looked surprised, to say the least. He asked me why I’d changed my mind, and when could he talk to my parents about it. I said I would only come on the condition he
never
talked to my parents about it and that we never came back to the Outer Banks. He said he couldn’t do that, couldn’t just take me away without letting them know. I started to cry, or maybe I already was crying. But I really started sobbing then, and he could tell that I was in a panic. He kept asking me, “What’s wrong? Are you in some kind of trouble?”

He probably thought I was pregnant, the way I was carrying on. (I just realized I’d better hide my diary here even better than I hid it at home.)

“I found out something about the war, something that puts me and my family in danger unless I go away,” I said.

He frowned at me. “What could you possibly have found out that would—”

I interrupted him. “It doesn’t matter. And I can’t tell you. Please don’t ever ask me again. Just let me go away with you.”

He stared at me a long time, then he finally nodded. “All right,” he said.

“And you promise me we won’t come back here? That you’ll find someplace else to camp out on the weekends?”

He nodded again. “I have a feeling if I came back here, I’d get arrested,” he said. He sounded like he was talking to himself. Then he asked me, “When can you go?”

“Tonight,” I said. “I’ll sneak out and meet you on the Pole Road. Okay?”

“All right,” he said.

I had something else to do before I could leave. I needed to somehow get the message to Mr. Hewitt that Sandy was the traitor he was looking for. I was so upset about this. How could I turn Sandy in? I kept remembering all the loving things he’d said to me over the past few weeks. I remembered that beautiful night
in the boat. Was he really just using me? I couldn’t believe it. But the horrid way he’d treated me the night before made me know he was not the man I thought he was. And I couldn’t let them keep on thinking that Mr. Sato was the spy when it was really Sandy. Still, I couldn’t go over to the Coast Guard station to tell Mr. Hewitt. First of all, Sandy would see me and know what I was up to. Second of all, Mr. Hewitt would be angry that I tried to talk to him in front of the boys.

I also couldn’t leave him a note on the lens, because it was only Sunday, and he wouldn’t be checking for my next note until Tuesday night. That left three days for my parents to go up to the lens and find the note. So I did something that may work but may not work. I went up to the lantern room with the ruby necklace Sandy gave me. A ruby is one of the few things that can cut glass. For a moment, I wondered if maybe he’d given me a fake ruby. I was about to find out. Right where I usually stuck the note for Mr. Hewitt, I carved Sandy’s name. His real name, of course, which I have now cut from the early pages of this diary with a razor blade, in case anyone finds this book and learns who the traitor is and turns him in and gets me and my family in trouble with the Germans. I am so scared. I hope I’m thinking straight!

The truth is, I don’t know if Mr. Hewitt will see the carved name or not. Part of me hopes he never does. Part of me can’t believe Sandy could be evil. I did my halfhearted best to let Mr. Hewitt know. Whether that works or not is up to fate, I guess.

I left a note for Mama and Daddy. I told them I was going someplace where I could get a better education and someday go to college and become a teacher. They think I am running wild. I will let them think that this is part of it. So I didn’t even write that I loved them or that I would miss them, and both those things are very, very true. I did write that I would be safe, though. I just had to add that because I couldn’t stand the thought of them worrying about me.

I didn’t talk the whole drive to High Point. It took forever, and I felt sicker with every mile. Once we got to this house, where Dennis lives with SueAnn, I threw up the entire night. I was just so scared at what I had done. Leaving home, turning in Sandy, everything. I took only my diary, some clothes and the ruby
necklace, which I now know is real. How could a man who gave me a real ruby necklace ever hurt me??? I just don’t understand.

Dennis and SueAnn both know how sick with worry I am, and they are not pressuring me to tell them anything. I’m grateful for that. SueAnn is the kindest person. She said to me, “You just let us take care of you, honey.” So that is what I’m going to do. I can’t think of any other choice I have, anyway.

G
ina had never seen Shorty’s parking lot so empty. Apparently, everyone invited to Henry’s eightieth birthday party had heeded the warning to leave their cars around the corner so that the guest of honor’s suspicions would not be aroused. She parked close to the side door, however. She’d had enough trouble with the twenty uncooperative balloons in her car already. She did not want to risk losing any of them on a long walk from the street.

It was going to be a struggle to shift her mind from thoughts of Rani to this party. She had not heard back from Mrs. King, in spite of leaving the woman another message on her answering machine. But this afternoon, she’d received an e-mail from her friend Denise, in Hyderabad.

“The children are still here,” Denise had written in her e-mail. “But I know they may be moved to the state orphanage any day. Rani remembers you. She keeps asking where ‘Mommy’ is. One of the new ayahs speaks English, and so she
translates for me. I’ve told her to explain to Rani that you are waiting for her, and that you think about her every single day.”

Every single minute.
Gina had cried when she read the message, first, with relief that Rani had not been moved and that Denise was still there to keep an eye on her, and second, over Rani remembering her as her mommy. This was so unfair. So cruel to both child and mother.

She turned her focus to extracting the balloons from her car, and she was soon walking toward the side door of the restaurant, holding tight to the long ribbons. Once in the back room, she let them go, and a couple of the early guests began arranging them so that they were spaced evenly against the wooden ceiling.

It was six-thirty and the back room was already filling up with partyers. The room was closed to the public for the evening, but it hardly mattered because most of the back-room regulars had been invited—with the exception of a couple of pool players who had been good friends with Brock. A game of pool was already under way, and a couple of guys were throwing darts that she hoped would not puncture any of the balloons. Walter and Brian were engaged in a game of chess, which they promised to abandon as soon as Henry arrived. The table with the chessboard had been shoved to the far end of the room, and small square tables, complete with green linen cloths and simple floral centerpieces, had been brought in for the party. The tables were set as elegantly as was possible at Shorty’s, and the chef was making stuffed flounder and pasta primavera for a crowd.

“Gina!”

Gina turned at the sound of her name to see Maggie O’Neill running toward her from the side door. She bent over to receive the hug Maggie apparently intended to give her.

“Hi, Maggie,” Gina said, delighted by the enthusiastic greeting. They had met only once, that night on the dunes, and she was surprised at being recognized by the girl, much less hugged. The rest of the O’Neill family was walking toward her, and Gina held her hand out to Alec.

“Thanks so much, Alec,” she said. She had not spoken to him since he’d changed his mind about helping her raise the lens. It had amazed her how quickly things started to happen after he
made a few phone calls to the right people. That man had clout. She wished he had used it a month ago, when she’d first asked, but at least it was forthcoming now. There was more money than was necessary to accomplish the task. Not only had the lighthouse association come through, but the tourist bureau, a few of the banks, and Dillard Realty as well.

“You’re welcome,” Alec said. “When is it going to happen?”

“Monday, weather permitting.”

“Will it be going to the Graveyard of the Atlantic Museum?” he asked.

“I’ve asked the lighthouse association to see if they can find a place for it up here, somewhere in the northern beaches, if at all possible. Otherwise, yes, it will go there.”

“What time is Henry coming?” Olivia asked, and Gina glanced at her watch.

“In ten minutes,” she said. “Clay and Lacey should have picked him up by now, and they’re bringing him over, ostensibly for a birthday dinner with just the three of them.” She turned to the crowd. “Listen up everybody!” she said loudly. The chatter in the room quieted down and people stopped what they were doing to look at her. “They should be here around seven,” she said. “Lacey is supposed to come in first to let us know they’re here, and then we’ll get ready to shout ‘surprise.’ All right?”

The guests nodded as they returned to their games and conversations.

“How is Lacey doing?” Olivia asked her.

“She’s fine,” Gina said. “Still a little black and blue, but not in any pain.” She knew that Lacey had been afraid to come to Shorty’s tonight in case Brock showed up. But Brock had left town, it seemed, probably to find himself a good plastic surgeon to fix that face of his. The night before, Gina had given Lacey the massage she’d promised her on her birthday. Lacey had needed it. The muscles in her shoulders had felt like knotted ropes beneath Gina’s hands. The incident with Brock had taken something out of her, and Gina thought that was probably for the best. Lacey needed to be shaken up a little.

The other person who was a bit nervous about tonight was Clay. This would be the first time that she and Clay would be to
gether as a couple in front of Henry, and he was worried about how the old man would react to the realization that his granddaughter’s widower had moved on.

“Why don’t you talk to him about it?” she’d suggested when he told her his concern, but she knew that was hard for Clay to do. Even if he
did
talk to Henry, the old man would most likely respond with little more than a grunt. If ever there were two men more suited to one another with regard to communication, it was Clay and Henry. Clay could talk to
her,
though, and that was all that mattered. They’d grown closer in the last few days, and they’d slept together every night in his bed, since it was a queen-size and hers was a double. They were using condoms now, of course, neither of them able to believe they hadn’t given birth control a thought that first night. But she had her period now, as she’d expected. She was not good at getting pregnant.

They didn’t talk about the future, and that was a relief to her. She didn’t want to think about the fact that she was due back at her teaching job in a month. It was hardly her priority at the moment.

“There’s Lace,” Alec said as Lacey walked through the door from the main room of the restaurant. The bruises on her face were still there, though barely noticeable in the back room’s dim light. Gina watched Lacey’s eyes dart to the pool table, and she could see the relief in her face when she realized that Brock was not present.

Lacey gave her younger brother and sister quick hugs, then came over to where Gina was talking to Alec and Olivia.

“We’re a little early, sorry,” she said to Gina. “I told them I needed to run ahead of them to use the rest room, but they should be in here any second.”

“Everybody!” Gina said again, clapping her hands together, reminding herself—and probably everyone else in the room—of the fact that she was a teacher. “Be quiet now. Clay’s bringing Henry in.”

A hush fell through the room, just in time. Gina could hear the two men on the other side of the door leading from the main restaurant into the back room.

“What’s this door doing closed?” Henry was saying. People in the back room chuckled softly to themselves. Henry opened the door and walked in, Clay right behind him.

“Surprise!” The sound was loud, with Maggie’s voice rising above the rest. “Surprise, surprise, surprise!” she said, hopping up and down.

Henry grabbed his chest as if he was going to keel over, but he was laughing. “What on earth?” he asked as people began to sing. Gina couldn’t help the wide smile that spread across her face. The dapper old man looked so pleased. He stood arrow straight as they sang. His narrow tie lay neatly against his pressed white shirt, and he held his straw fedora in front of him.

The party was a great success. Gina helped another waitress with the serving, and she liked the comfortable feeling of having something concrete to do. When she was not running around with trays of food, she was with Clay, whose finger was still splinted and whose face still bore the scrapes and bruises from defending his sister’s honor. Clay held her hand and was affectionate with her despite Henry’s presence. And Henry noticed. He spotted Clay stealing a kiss from Gina and she heard the old man say to him, “You still have great taste in women.”
Bless him,
Gina thought as she walked out of the room to get another tray of food. With just a few words, Henry had done his best to put Clay at ease.

After dinner, Henry opened the cards and gifts people had brought for him. He had nearly finished, when there was a sudden
thud
in the back of the room, and everyone looked in the direction of the sound.

“Walter!” Brian stood up, walking quickly around the table at which he’d been seated with his friend, and only then did Gina see that Walter had fallen forward out of his chair and lay crumpled on the floor. She got up from her own seat next to Clay and ran toward him, but Olivia and Alec were there first. Everyone backed away a bit, silent and shocked, as Olivia and Alec stretched Walter out on the floor. Olivia checked his neck for a pulse, shaking her head at her husband.

“I’ll do the compressions,” Alec said, quickly unbuttoning the old man’s shirt.

“Call an ambulance!” Gina shouted over her shoulder, to no one in particular.

“Is he dead?” Maggie was standing at her side, and Gina put
an arm around the girl, thinking through how to answer her, but Lacey appeared next to them before she could say a word.

“Come on, Jack and Maggie,” Lacey said, exchanging a knowing glance with Gina. “Let’s go outside for a while.”

“What’s Mom doing to him?” Maggie asked as she followed her older sister to the side door. Lacey held the screen door open, letting her younger siblings walk out ahead of her, and Gina didn’t hear her answer.

The sounds were terrible. Gina could hear Olivia’s breath pouring into Walter’s lungs, and Alec grunted as he pressed down on the man’s chest. Murmured conversations filled the room, but there was no sound from Walter at all.

Henry had moved over to the table where Walter had been sitting, and he and Brian sat next to each other quietly. They were looking into the air, not at the scene on the floor, and Gina wondered what they were thinking. Walter and Brian and Henry were all fixtures in the back room. It was hard to imagine the place without any one of them.

Come on, Walter,
she thought to herself.

Clay moved close to the threesome on the floor. “Can I take over for one of you?” he asked Alec and Olivia.

“We’re okay,” Alec said, pressing down on Walter’s frail-looking breastbone, and Clay stood to one side, waiting to see if he was needed.

Minutes passed. Finally the sound of a siren could be heard in the distance, and just as the medics raced into the room, Walter sputtered, coughed and started to breathe on his own. The people in the room let out their own breath in a collective sigh of cautious relief. Olivia sat back on her heels, her face damp and white. Alec put his hand on the back of her neck, beneath her hair, and pulled her toward him to give her a kiss on the side of the head, and the simple gesture touched someplace deep inside Gina and made her throat tighten up.

The medics lifted Walter onto a stretcher and took him out the side door to the ambulance. Olivia said she would follow in her car, while Alec drove Jack and Maggie back to their house.

“I’m taking Henry home,” Clay said to Gina, once his father and stepmother had left. “And I’ll probably stay with him awhile.”

She nodded. “I think he’s more upset than he looks.”

Clay squeezed her shoulders. “I think we all are,” he said. “Come over to his house when you’re done here, if you like.”

“I will,” she said.

Slowly, and far more quietly than when they’d arrived, people left the restaurant. Gina and the other waitress stayed behind to clean up. The silence in the room was overwhelming with everyone gone. The balloons had congregated in four places on the ceiling, probably because of the location of the air-conditioning vents, and the neatly arranged tables had been shoved this way and that to make room for the medics and their stretcher. Walter’s wheelchair was still at the table where he’d been sitting, a half-carved decoy lying near it on the floor. She had never seen the chair without the old man in it, and it looked sad and strange.

“You go on,” the other waitress said to her as she started to clean up.

“Oh, no,” Gina said. “I can’t leave this mess for—”

“Go.” The waitress pushed her physically toward the side door. “You need to go be with your loved ones.”

Gina thanked her, then walked outside to her car.
Your loved ones.
The words made her smile, and she turned the key in the ignition and headed over to Henry’s.