The Widow's Walk (30 page)

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Authors: Robert Barclay

BOOK: The Widow's Walk
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Constance stood and raised the glass to one eye. The day was sunny and bright, allowing her to see a good distance. As usual she first examined each sailing vessel plying the harbor, but none carried a red pennant.

She then cast her gaze farther out to sea, where the pickings were always harder to identify. There she saw two more vessels, perched on the horizon. To her experienced eye, the first looked like a small cargo ship, and was therefore too small to be a whaler. The second was a bit more difficult to ascertain. When she finally saw the sun glinting off two rows of menacing cannon along the port hull, Constance put her down for an American naval vessel.

She was about to take the glass from her eye when she heard a voice calling to her. At first she thought it was the ocean breeze wafting through the structure, for when the wind was just right it sometimes tricked one's ears that way. Then she heard it again.

Look again,
the unknown voice seemed to whisper.
Look again . . .

She returned the glass to her eye and scoured the horizon. This time she saw a third ship there, only recently appeared. As Constance examined her, her heart beat faster.

At first she couldn't be sure, but after a time she thought she saw the tiniest bit of red, flying high upon one of the masts. Bright red, she later realized, and perhaps shaped into a triangle. Her mind racing, she hoped against hope that this was real, and not some Cape Horn widow's mirage. She stood that way for another hour, straining to see it until at last she was sure. With tears of joy streaming down her face, she ran back downstairs as quickly as she could.

After more than two full years at sea, the
Intrepid
had finally come home.

Chapter 34

“Hyaaah!” Eli Jackson shouted as he snapped his buggy whip again.

Eli disliked using the whip on the horses. However this was no ordinary day, and so he cracked the whip again, urging the two stallions faster. Constance sat behind Eli in the carriage, holding on to her windblown bonnet as best she could. It had taken her mere seconds to hurry downstairs and order Eli to prepare the carriage. The moment Constance got settled, Eli snapped the reins across the stallions' haunches, and they went charging down the road.

Constance was nervous beyond all reason. The ship she saw was the
Intrepid,
she had been sure of it. In all the time she had spent searching the ocean, no previous vessel had ever flown a bright red pennant. Even so, she couldn't help worrying about how she might live, if her beloved Adam had indeed been lost at sea. Although she had not seen the
Intrepid
sink, she had seen Adam swept overboard, which in turn breathed fresh life into the
mora mortis
and exiled her to a place between worlds
.
And because the
Intrepid
was arriving today, nearly a full week before she was supposedly lost, Constance had absolutely no idea what to expect.

Despite that terrible flashback she and Garrett shared, even now Constance couldn't know whether it had been real, or just a dream. What does it all mean? she wondered. Would she and Adam at last share a warm bed this night? Or come the morrow would she have to don widow's garb and begin arranging a memorial?

When at last they reached the piers, the area was already a madhouse. Given all the wagons, sailors, carriages, and townspeople that had arrived ahead of them, Eli was forced to take their carriage three streets over. After tying the horses to a street stanchion, Eli helped Constance down from her seat. As she straightened her bonnet, he could see tears building in her eyes.

“Don't you worry, Miss Constance!” he said. “You look just fine! Cap'n Adam's gonna be mighty glad to see you!”

“Thank you, Eli,” she said as she put up her parasol.

She took a few quick steps down the street then stopped and turned around.

“Aren't you coming?” she asked.

Eli smiled and shook his head.

“No, ma'am,” he answered. “I can't say exactly why, but somethin' tells me this moment belongs to just you and the cap'n. So you go along now, Miss Constance. Go and collect your man, so that we can take him on home where he belongs.”

After giving Eli a warm smile, Constance hurried on down the street. When she finally arrived at the pier, it took some time to wend her way through the crowd, but she eventually found herself standing at the bow gangplank. There was so much noise and bustle that she could hardly hear herself think, but that did not keep her from looking up and reading the name of the ship. Finally, after so much time and heartache, she saw it. To her great delight, the name plaque read:
Intrepid
.

Constance immediately cast her gaze along the gunwale, but the bright midday sun made searching difficult. Men, goods, and seemingly endless barrels of whale product were streaming from the ship now, the entire scene near pandemonium as she desperately tried to find her husband.

She soon noticed someone standing near the top of the gangplank. His back was to the sun, which made seeing his face difficult. He seemed to be searching the crowd below, and as he came down the gangplank she instinctively ran to greet him. Yet when Constance looked into his face she was stunned beyond all reason, for the man standing before her was not Adam.

It was Garrett.

When he found her, his smile was joyous. He immediately took Constance in his arms, lifting her off her feet and literally twirling her around. When at last he set her down again, he stole a moment to look deeply into her eyes.

Bewildered to the point of speechlessness, Constance could scarcely breathe. Garrett was wearing the exact sort of clothing that Adam would've, had it been he who had just walked down the gangplank. She could even see Adam's scrimshaw necklace hanging about Garrett's neck.

“You're here!” he exclaimed. “You made it too!”

“Garrett . . .” she finally whispered. “Is it really you?”

Smiling again, Garrett placed his hands on either side of her face.

“Yes, Constance,” he answered. “It's really me.”

Her tears starting to come again, Constance asked, “But how can this be? I don't understand . . .”

“I'm sorry, Constance,” he answered, “but I wasn't completely honest with you before we leaped from the widow's walk. I couldn't be, if we were to have the slightest chance of finding each other again . . .”

Constance's eyes desperately searched his. “What—what are you talking about?”

Garrett produced an envelope from his captain's jacket and he handed it to her.

“What's this?” she asked.

“That's a letter from Brooke Wentworth,” Garrett answered. “She had it delivered to me shortly after our visit to Fairlawn. Please read it, Constance. It will explain everything far better than I ever could.”

With trembling fingers Constance unfolded the letter and began to read:

Dearest Garrett,

Please forgive me for writing this letter after the fact but I didn't know how else to approach the issue, given that Constance accompanied you to Fairlawn. Please know that everything I told you is the truth, and I hope that you and Constance have decided to take the leap of faith I described. Yet there is more that you need to know, and you will find it startling. I would have told you all this during our meeting, but I felt it best to inform you later, because it may not be something you will wish to share with Constance. I know of no other way to explain this, so I will say it as plainly as I can:

Simply put, I believe you are the reincarnation of Adam Canfield.

I know this comes as a huge shock, but in retrospect it makes perfect sense. The
mora mortis
describes this possibility in great detail. That is, the person who so loves the trapped soul might well be someone from that person's past reincarnated; someone whom the other loved very deeply. I know you will find all of this quite overwhelming, but you simply must keep an open mind while I explain.

By your own admission, ever since you met Constance, and even before that when you first dreamed of her, you felt an irresistible pull toward her unlike anything you had ever experienced. Moreover, you always had an immense love for Seaside. You also felt a compulsion to own it, to renovate it in the classic manner, and to live there for the rest of your life. In addition you accompanied Constance on several of her flashbacks, the most important of which was when you both saw Adam perish in the sea. The
mora mortis
wanted the two of you to witness Adam's death, so that you might truly begin understanding the nature of your situation.

This also explains the meaning of the flashback that I expect has always been the most puzzling for you—that is, when you were taken back in time and found yourself making love to Constance. I believe that this was yet again the
mora mortis's
way of trying to show you who you really are. Will you ever know with certainty whether you were Adam or Garrett at that moment? I doubt it. But if you are truly Adam reincarnated, does it matter?

In hindsight all these things make perfect sense and have convinced me that you are truly the reincarnation of Adam Canfield, reborn seventeen decades later, and ultimately destined to save Constance from her terrible imprisonment. Which of course also means that Adam did actually die in that terrible storm off Cape Horn. As I told you earlier, should the two of you leap from the roof, I have no way of knowing your fates. Yet if, as I fervently hope, you are the reincarnation of Adam, I pray that you and Constance will somehow find each other again. For you see, Garrett, your love for Constance and your purchase of Seaside were not mere coincidences. Instead they were a series of dynamisms caused by the
mora mortis
so the two of you might have a fighting chance to not only save her, but to also be together as you should. Your past was calling to you. It has been all of your life, and you at last heeded it.

There is one more item of which you should become aware. Again, I did not want to bring this up at the meeting.
The Book of Shadows
also states that should you and Constance take the leap of faith and succeed, each of you may take along several material things of this day and age. You need only know in your hearts what you wish to keep, and the process will unfold.

In closing, I wish you both all the luck in the world. It is vitally important that you two take the leap of faith from the widow's walk, because if you do not, Constance will truly die, and your soul will likely remain trapped forever. Should I never hear from either of you, my heart will choose to believe that you and Constance did indeed find each other yet again across the infinite expanse of time, for thinking otherwise would be far too painful. Good luck, Garrett, and God bless.

Fondly,

Brooke

Her hands shaking, Constance refolded the letter and handed it back to Garrett.

“My God . . .” she said.

Garrett nodded.

“Yes, Constance,” he answered. “Brooke was right. Adam Canfield is now as much a part of me as Garrett Richmond ever was. I can now do everything that Adam once did and I also carry all of his memories, just as I also carry with me all the knowledge and memories I garnered during my time as Garrett Richmond. I didn't tell you because I believed it would keep you from going through with it. If you knew, I feared that you would have done everything in your power to keep me out of harm's way—especially when it came to leaping from the widow's walk. However, because this was our one chance, I believed that we had to take it. I could only pray that we might somehow survive and be together again.”

“So you found yourself on the
Intrepid
as Adam,” Constance mused. “But what about the crew? Didn't they wonder who you were?”

Garrett shook his head.

“The moment we leaped from the roof I was sent back in time, and I arrived on the
Intrepid
the very instant Adam was swept overboard. I appeared to all the crew as Adam, and for them it was as if Adam never died. And although you still see me as Garrett, the rest of the world recognizes me as Adam. Only you, it seems, can tell the difference. Despite Adam's death, instead of sinking that night, the
Intrepid
miraculously survived the storm and the time line was altered. I was never so scared in all my life.”

As she stared at Garrett's face, tears began filling Constance's eyes.

“And despite knowing all the dangers,” she asked him, “you were still willing to risk your life for me?”

“Yes,” Garrett answered. “A thousand times yes. If I had it to do all again, my decision would be the same.”

“So Adam is . . . ?”

Garrett nodded.

“Yes, my love,” Garrett answered. “I'm sorry, but he's gone. He really did die that night aboard the
Intrepid
. It was meant to be. There was nothing about that night that either of us could have changed. I'm sorry about Adam, but I'm here now. I've come across time for you, and if you'll have me, I want us to be together.”

Although Constance very much wanted to believe him, she hesitated. She looked at him with beseeching eyes, remembering those days not so long ago when she was desperately trying to convince him of her own bizarre story. Now he was trying to prove his equally strange tale to her, and like Garrett had been, she needed something more to become a believer.

Garrett sensed her hesitation. After thinking for a few moments, he removed his captain's coat and handed it to her. Then he rolled up the left-hand sleeve of his shirt to a place between his elbow and shoulder. When he turned his arm toward Constance, he saw her gasp.

To her amazement, there was a mark on Garrett's arm that was an exact twin to the harpoon scar Adam had carried for so many years. The same one that Constance had claimed to find so endearing, the night of their wedding. The likeness was absolutely identical, and Constance now knew she had no choice but to believe Garrett's story. Yet again, her eyes searched his face incredulously.

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