This One and Magic Life (22 page)

“Yes.”

“Who was he?”

“I don't know, honey.”

He's lying, but Dolly doesn't mind. She rubs her wet hand against her shorts and asks, “Have you ever heard, Papa, that psychologists say we marry ourselves?”

“And you look at your mama and me and wonder about it?”

“Well, yours is the only marriage I have to go by. Do you think it's true?”

Donnie thinks for a moment. “Probably. I think your mama and I are opposite sides of the same coin with the edges beginning to blur.”

And Bobby? Dolly feels the familiar rush of pain. There were no dividing lines, Bobby. What you did to yourself, you did to me.

“Everything will turn out fine,” her father says, reading her thoughts. Dolly reaches over and pats him on the leg.

They are now in the ship channel with no barge or large boat in sight. The few sailboats and small fishing boats are clustered near the beach. Donnie cuts the engine down. “Here?” he asks. Dolly nods.

Donnie turns off the motor and they drift. Waves slap against the boat; seagulls squawk above them.

“The current here will take her to the gulf,” Donnie says. Dolly nods.

Donnie picks up the plastic bowl and takes the top off. I scarce know which greater be, what I keep of you, or you rob of me. You are robbing me, Artie. “Do you want to say anything?” he asks Dolly. She says no. “Do you want to sprinkle some of the ashes?” Dolly again shakes her head.

“Then I better get to it. I'll need you to move, though, so I can put some on that side.” Dolly sits on the back of the seat.

“I commend my sister to you, Lord,” Donnie says. “I loved her. We all did. We ask that you be merciful to her and grant her eternal rest. May your light shine on her forever. Amen.”

“Amen,” Dolly says through tears.

Donnie holds the container over the side of the boat and lets some of the ashes fall into the water. Then a few more. Finally, he shakes the bowl. Dolly hears a noise that sounds like a fish feeding. Then he moves to her side of the boat and does the same, this time holding the container upside down and finally dipping it into the water to rinse it out.

“Look,” Donnie says. “Look, Dolly.”

Dolly looks behind them. The drifting ashes have formed a wishbone that is gleaming golden in the last rays of the sun. Artie would have loved this, she thinks. The light. It was what she was always trying to get on canvas. Now she's part of it. Goodbye. Goodbye.

They sit quietly for a few minutes watching the wishbone widen, change shapes, get caught in ripples.

“Let's go home now,” Donnie says.

“Not yet. Let's wait for the sun to go down. It's almost to the horizon.”

At that moment a breeze springs up and the wishbone's forward motion quickens toward the light. The hot, cold, dangerous, forgiving light.

“Lord!” Dolly stands up and shouts. “Lord! Here comes Artie!”

They drift until the last chord of sun disappears and Dolly says, “Okay, Papa. We can go home now.”

And they do.

“
I DECLARE I LOVE THIS TIME OF THE DAY,” SARAH SULLIVAN
says. She is sitting in a yellow canvas chair at the end of the community pier. The setting sun is making her hair golden.

“Anybody else want this last tomato sandwich?” Thomas Sullivan asks.

“I'll half it with you,” Carl Jenkins says.

“Okay. Will, lend me your knife.”

Will Cates fumbles in his overall pockets for his knife and hands it to Thomas.

Sarah leans back and closes her eyes. “When the breeze comes up like this, it makes you feel like you're floating.”

Thomas reaches over her to give Carl his half of the sandwich. “Ana,” he says to the dark-haired girl sitting on the pier with her feet dangling in the water, “did you have enough?”

“Plenty.” She splashes the water slightly; her toenails are painted bright red.

“It sure is taking Artie a long time,” Carl says.

Sarah laughs. “She's pulling herself together.”

Ana laughs, too. “That Hektor is crazy. He got half of her blessed and buried.”

“I think it was sweet.” Sarah turns to Will. “Don't you want me to hold Toy a while?”

“No. She's asleep. She's fine.”

“That's a beautiful christening dress, Will,” Ana says. “I think it's prettier than the one May had.”

“Thank you.” Will rocks back and forth in his blue canvas chair, holding the baby against his chest.

“The ladies of the church made it in one day. Amazing.” Sarah reaches for her glass of iced tea.

Thomas leans forward. “I see a boat coming in. It's probably Donnie and Dolly.”

Sarah looks toward the boat. “I hope so. Dolly doesn't need to get chilled.” She turns to Carl. “I think she's going to stay here and marry the doctor.”

But Carl isn't paying any attention to his mother-in-law. He's listening to the music from the Grand Hotel. They're playing “Sweet Caroline.” When Artie gets here, they'll dance. He hasn't danced in a long time. Which is all right. It's pleasant here.

“Who knows?” Thomas says.

But Sarah insists. “She'll marry the doctor and have a dozen children. We'll be great-grandparents, Thomas.”

“So will I,” Will says.

“I keep forgetting that.” Sarah smiles and sips her tea. What does it matter?

“That's my favorite dress, Sarah,” Thomas says. It is, of course, the black velvet dress without a back that Hektor remembers so well.

“I know.”

Carl gets up and walks to the edge of the pier. “I wish Artie would get here.”

A man in a white dinner jacket is walking down the beach.

“Have patience.” Ana stretches. “Listen to the music.”

Sarah looks at Carl's uniform. “You know,” she says, “it's amazing how those Korean uniforms still look good. Still stylish.”

A teenage boy joins the group and sits beside Thomas. “What's going on?” he asks him.

“We're waiting for my daughter. What's going on with you?”

“Don't know. I was just riding my motorcycle.”

Thomas nods. “It happens.”

“You want to fish?” Will asks the boy. “I've got an extra pole.”

“Might as well. It's nice out here this evening.”

“Always is,” Ana says.

“There's tea and almond pie,” Sarah offers. “The tomato sandwiches are gone. We can get some more, though.”

The boy shakes his head no.

“Hush, little baby, don't say a word,” Will sings to Toy who has begun to stir.

“It's them,” Thomas says as the boat pulls closer to the pier. “It's
Gravy Boat
. Artie will be here soon.”

“It's nice out here,” the boy repeats.

“What's your name, son?” Thomas asks.

“Joe Murray.”

“You Eugene Murray's grandson?”

“Yessir. He's going to be wondering where I am. My whole family is.”

“No, he's not. Go on and cast. See what you catch.”

“Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird,” Will sings softly.

Donnie brings
Gravy Boat
into her berth. He and Dolly get out and tie the boat up.

“Dolly's going to be fine,” Sarah says. “Look how much she looks like me.”

“May's going to be fine, too,” Ana says.

The lights come on on the pier. A slight eastern breeze stirs the banners on the boats. The boy pulls in a five-pound catfish.

Sarah reaches over and takes Thomas's hand. “It's a lovely evening.”

“I wonder where Artie is,” Carl says.

Thomas smiles at him. “She's be here in a little while, Carl. We've got all the time in the world.”