“Jimmy,come back over here. You’re making me nervous.”
“No.”
Sheblinked. Hadn’t expected that.
“Jimmy,please.” He’d made her come all the way down here to fetch him. Wasn’t thatenough affirmation for him? What more could he expect? “Come back to the housewith me.”
“She’sdown there, Ash.”
Ashleybit her lip. She’d assumed Jimmy was playing with her, getting her to the lipof the ravine so she would talk about why her father had killed himself. Hedidn’t seem interested in that anymore, though.
“Sheneeds help.”
Ashley’sshallow breathing echoed in her ears. “You’re scaring me, Jimmy.”
“Shewants someone to bring her home.”
Realityseemed to fold as she recognized Rollo’s words. She tried to summon anger, butfailed. Her voice sounded panicked. “Jimmy, get in the car right now. We’ll getthrough the funeral and be home by tomorrow night.”
Helooked up at her. “Why?”
“Whywhat?”
“Whywould I want to go home? You’re just going to dump me when we get there.”
Sheswallowed. “What are you talking about?”
“I’monly here because you didn’t want to be alone for your father’s funeral. Onceit’s over, you’re done with me.”
“That’snot true. You know that’s not true.”
Jimmyheld her gaze for a moment, then looked back into the ravine. “Now who’slying?”
“Jimmy—”
“Bringher home, Ash.” He leaned forward, stiff as a falling tree. Ashley couldn’tfind the breath to scream as gravity took him and the blackness swallowed him.It seemed like forever until he landed.
Ashleystepped back and dropped to the ground. The headlights flooded over her,illuminating the trees and making strange shadows among the leaves. “Jimmy,”she said.
Shewants someone to bring her home,Rollo had said, and Jimmy had said it, too. Had Mary picked off her father andthen Jimmy to bring her here? Is that what was happening here?
Jimmyhad said he could hear her singing. Ashley listened for a long time, but allshe heard was the thump of someone closing the passenger door.
Shestood, but couldn’t make herself turn around, sure she’d see a face watchingher from the passenger seat.
The Stranding Off
Schoodic Point
R.C. Mulhare
October30th, 1863
The late October skyhung like a pale blue bowl inverted over the ocean waters of the Gulf of Maine.Lavinny Sterne rowed one of the fishing dories of her great uncle SeamusMalone’s fishing schooner, the Sunny Green, with her partner, TeagueWashington sitting in the bow, plying the second set of oars. Seagulls wheeledabout, their creaks and caws drowned out by the creak of the oars as they triedto swipe at the bucket of bait in the well of the dory. The sky wouldn’t remainclear nor the weather calm for much longer. The fishing crew would hole up forthe winter, before the cold wind of November blew in and froze Frenchman Bay,which lay between Schoodic Peninsula and Mount Desert Island. One last catchand the cash from it along with her nest egg from the season would provide forher mother and sisters and brother for the winter. With her father away in theShenandoah Valley patching up the soldiers fighting Johnny Reb, someone had tostand as the man of the house. Ma could tend to the women and children ofWinter Harbor Village, but her needlework wasn’t as keen for the kind ofinjuries the hands experienced.
Thusin the middle of the spring, when Malone needed another hand on one of hisdories, Lavinny had offered to take the oars. She’d spent enough time diggingclams with her grandmother and on the water with Ma’s Pa before the grippe tookhim from them five years ago. Then, she helped Grandpa’s brother when he tookcharge of his schooner, but not ‘til this summer had he let her go to sea withhis crew. Ma had objected at first.
“Therecould be work for you on shore, or digging clams.” She’d warned her aboutsomeone on the crew having malicious intentions. But Malone had given his wordto throw anyone off the boat who so much as looked at Lavinny wrong; includingdropping the cad in the middle of George’s Bank and leaving him there for thesharks. That did little to quell Ma’s concerns, despite Lavinny’s decision.Nearly every time they pulled in with a catch, they found Ma walking the quay,watching and waiting, like one of those widows in the old ghost tales, keepingwatch for a ship that would never come back.
Lavinnyhadn’t minded; if anything, it charmed her. Until Ma tried to talk her out ofthe job yet again. Ma had proposed she find a husband, either in town or bypost, to provide for her and make the household a little smaller Lavinny hadtossed that notion over the side.
“Iain’t having myself shipped overland to Minnesota or the back end of beyond,like a parcel of wool or a box of salt cod, and I ain’t going down to Arkham tosee if your Ma’s people can set me up with some dandy who’s never hoistedanything heavier than a pen,” she’d said. The one time she’d visited Father’sfamily in Arkham, she’d pitied her laced-up lady-cousins in their unwieldycrinolines. If that’s how they did things among the so-called civilized worldof the flatlanders, she’d take the rustic ways of Maine. “Besides, it wouldleave you and the little ones on shortened circumstances.”
Teagueraised his oars, looking to her, the movement calling her back to the here andnow. “This a good spot, Lavinny?” he asked.
“Gooda place as any this late in the season,” Lavinny said, raising her own oars.Teague took up the bucket of bait, standing and dumping it into the water.Lavinny raised the net from the bottom of the boat, shaking it out and castingit over the ripples, watched it sink. Now came the hardest part of fishing,waiting for the fish to find their way into the net. Lavinny set to worklooking over the spare net for worn spots to mend, while Teague dug out a ballof twine against any needlework they had to do.
Thelines tethering the net to the boat twitched. Lavinny set aside her work andstood, balancing carefully, reaching for the lines closest to her. Teaguedropped his mending to grab the further lines. When they hauled in the net,they found only a handful of haddock and a few halibut, but this late in theseason the fish were running deeper
