Dark Light

I walked to the piano. There was a bowl of ice and another cloth compress on the stand next to her. I knelt and put my hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

She had been crying, and I could see a plum-sized lump above her left eye.

She used her hand to dismiss the subject. “Yes. But he did surprise me. I was terrified, of course, but I tried not to show it—remember my philosophy about men and wolves?”

Never show fear. I remembered.

“I inherited a little popgun of a pistol from Marlissa, and I managed to get it on him, but he wrestled it away before I could—”

Shoot him?

She didn’t finish. She looked at me. “What about you? Did you catch him?”

“Yes.”

Her tone became expectant, although she tried to mask it. “I hope you didn’t do something crazy—like kill him?” She looked at me suddenly, searching my face.

I said, “Almost. But, no.”

She nodded. “I don’t know why the fool didn’t shoot me. But it was the strangest thing, Doc. He had the gun, pointing right at me. Then there was a lightning flash, and…he got the queerest expression on his face. It was as if he’d been struck dumb.” The woman touched a gentle finger to her forehead. “He just stood there, staring, then he must have hit me. When I came to, I heard your truck leave. That’s why I called the police. I was worried you would follow him. And he was monstrous.”

No wonder the cops reacted so quickly when they spotted my truck at the ferry landing.

There was a box of tissues on the piano and she took one. She dabbed at her eyes, then blew her nose delicately, before standing and walking past me. She was bundled in a white robe, hair frazzled from the storm. “If you don’t mind, though, Doc, I’d prefer not to discuss it anymore. I’m not prepared for visitors, I’m afraid. And I have a lot to do.”

Outside, lightning flared twice. It illuminated her face…abandoned it to shadows…then illuminated her face again. I took a step back, and shook my head, trying to clear what had to have been a hallucination.

“Doc? You’re white as a ghost. Can I get you something?”

I said, “No. But I need to sit down a minute.” I walked to the bar and poured soda water over ice, intentionally not looking at Chestra. In the strobing light, her face had changed…no, it had appeared to change. One moment she was old, an instant later she was young. Old… young…dark…light.

Heller had stared at her instead of killing her. Had he experienced the same dizzying hallucination?

“Men,” I heard her say. “Hard on the outside, but so soft on the inside. Sit there and rest, dear.”

I plopped down in the chair near the piano. She patted my shoulder as she passed.

I felt distanced from reality.

Several hours had passed since I had sat aboard No Mas and taken a couple of puffs from a joint. I’d been in water that was dark and cold; I’d sobered. I was sober enough to realize the drug had affected me. But had it done this?

The drug had scrambled my sense of time. It had also intensified various fixations, and I’m tunnel-visioned to begin with, prone to what shrinks call OCB. So it had skewed my judgment, too.

Tomlinson covets varieties of cannabis that cause hallucinations. Could hallucinations be so emotionally authentic that they registered inside the brain as fact?

Was that why Chestra was behaving so distant now—as if our time together in the gazebo was something I’d dreamed? Or…was it because I had called her Marlissa?

I remembered Tomlinson telling me that she had ended their relationship when he’d done something similar…But, no, this was ridiculous. I was just tired and beat-up, that’s all.

I noticed something for the first time. The hallway was a chaos of clothing, personal items, and suitcases. Either Heller had made a mess of the place, or…

She saw my expression.

“Yes, dear, I am packing to leave.”

“What?”

“That’s right. It’s time. Thanks to you and your friends, I found out the truth tonight about Frederick Roth. I had no idea it would be such an emotional experience. Marlissa has become more than a hobby, I’ve realized. In a way, I’m her…custodian. It broke my heart when I was told Freddy abandoned her. Doc”—the woman paused long enough to smile at me—“you made Marlissa’s memory…her story … romantic again. Thank you for that.”

I said, “You’re welcome. But does that mean you have to leave, go back to Manhattan?”

“Let’s just say I’m going. Leave it at that.”

I stood. “Do you need help?”

She shook her head. “No, I want to be alone. With Freddy. I’m sure you understand.”

No, I didn’t. I put my drink on the table as she opened the balcony doors. I followed her outside. She was reaching for the light switch when I caught her. I placed my hands on her shoulders.

“Chestra. Why are you doing this?”

As I pivoted her, she reached for the switch again and turned on the lights. There were two flood lamps above the balcony doors, megawattage for security. They produced harsh, unfiltered beams that had a surgical sterility.

What she then did was intentional, like punishment. Chestra pulled me close, then tilted her face into the blinding rays, as if looking into the sun. She held the pose to make certain I had all the time I needed to see what she really looked like.

My reaction was involuntary: I stepped back.

This was not the woman I had lifted into my arms during the storm.

The woman smiled, still holding the pose, forcing me to look at her again. Something familiar was in her smile—the diamond glitter of her eyes? Yes.

“Don’t you agree, Doc? It’s time for me to be gone.”

Chestra expected me to turn away. I didn’t. I’d seen what she looked like in bright light, but I also knew how she felt and reacted when lights were dim. We had more in common than I had realized.

Instead, I put a finger to her chin and rotated her face toward mine. I held her there while my other hand found the wall, then the switch. The spotlights blinked off.

In the fresh darkness, the moon was huge, pale as a winter sun. She tried to pull away, but I wouldn’t allow it. I touched my lips to hers.

She smiled, and placed her hand on the side of my face. “Good-bye, Doc.”

Then she led me down the stairs to the front door.

After it closed behind me, I walked to the beach, alone. Wind pushed moonlight off the Gulf of Mexico, and I stood in the dark, listening, as the piano began, first tentative, then with more certainty, her voice matching the cadence of waves.

Never mind…

The sun is on the sea

In my mind

Waves wash over me

We’ll never know

All that we possess

’Til the end of time

We can only guess…

EPILOGUE

By the first week of October, the weather cleared, becoming typical of Florida autumns: tropic blue mornings, cool nights with stars, jasmine beneath a hunter’s moon. Beaches were silver. At night, palms were moon- glazed.