For years, she has tried to run from the image of her father, like the fruit did not fall far from the tree, but on this trip, she is finding that she is more like him than she first thought. Like her father, she left her family and her life in Boston, abruptly, to come to Scotland. The clues he left behind, like the pocket watch and note hidden behind a painting were designed for her to find because she knows him best. Uncle Tobias chose me, it dawns on Melody, because I am just like my father. The thought is as unsettling as it is true.
Her eyes burst open with fervor. No wonder my eyes were in no rush to open, she thinks, it’s dark and ominous. While her eyes adjust to the indistinct tones of acutely faint light, a sudden revelation jogs her memory, “Nell!” Her voice punctures the mute silence of the room with a soft yell.
In a more subdued tone, as if the walls might be listening, she utters, “It was Nell.” Her eyes flutter as a flood of memories rolls in with abandon like a sea wave. “She brought me here.”
It is troubling for Melody as it is somewhat embarrassing to recall that a girl of fifteen years outsmarted her. But she can not prevent the memory from flowing in. Squinting with perceived pain, she thinks back to the night Nell followed her and admitted watching Melody for some time now. Melody questioned how on such a small island someone could go unnoticed, but Nell had a record of events ready, events that only someone following her would know. Then Nell revealed that her mother knew what happened to Mr Sanders – Melody’s father.
At first, Melody did not trust Nell and now she knows she should have trusted her instincts. Why did I get on the boat with her? She sighs her frustration remembering hopping on a small power boat with Nell. Deeply hurt by the treachery of someone she trusted, Melody aches as she realizes that was the moment she lost out.
Nell knew all along that she was not going to help me. Melody’s heart beats faster as her blood pressure rises. She is livid with herself. How could I fall for it? Nell tricked me. She brought me all the way to this island just to dump me here and leave me for dead.
When Nell sped off, Melody was in despair. It was as though Nell sailed off and took with her the last trickle of hope Melody had of finding her father; deep into the seas she went as Melody watched hope disappear with Nell. And there she was, stuck, destitute on an island that she does not even know the name of.
Then, a thought trickles in, “Did anyone see us leave Deacon Island together?” She wonders. A few moments of contemplating and replaying her final minutes on Deacon Island pay off. There were two fishermen that Melody remembers passing by at the dock. They stood out to her because they were out very early in the morning, checking on their sail boat even before McCorrie had checked on the Blue Elm. They didn’t say anything, but the scruffy helmsman in dark blue corduroy overalls and a matching cap, with a strawberry blonde, thick beard and bushy eyebrows did acknowledge her with a smile and a nod. His teeth were off-white but his smile was gentle.
She can’t say she had seen them before, but it is common for fishermen to dock at Talon’s Point temporarily, then pick up sail with their bows headed to another island.
After that, she can’t recall running into anyone else. Please God, can you have one of those men come and rescue me or at least tell Morrison where I am? Melody utters her silent prayer. In many ways, God has been her one constant companion on this journey, it just feels right to call on Him now in her hour of need.
When her eyes adjust to the obscure room, she carefully analyzes her surroundings. The murky ambience slows her down until she can capture uneven walls dipping in and veering off at parts, almost naturally formed. It looks like she’s in a cave.
She has to take a closer look.
Gently, she glides her arms like beams to support her body as she sits up. They are weak, but sturdy enough to hold her ascent into a sitting position. Then she sees it, a smoldering light, dimly glowing from just beyond her feet. Where am I? She ponders, cautiously, wondering if the light is pointing her to an entrance to the cave.
Suddenly, a sharp pain shoots through her head. “Argh,” with one hand she clenches her head, pressing it to stop the throbbing. Melody has a splitting headache, at once, she leans back on her elbows, woozy from something, like she has been drugged.
Instantly, she smells it as though it is still over her mouth. The chemical lingers in her nostrils and she knows it well. It’s the same one she used in her medical archeology class when they studied ancient forms of anesthesia. The smell is sweet and it’s pleasant to the taste.
“Chloroform. I was drugged?” She questions. Then, turning to her side, in the direction the light is shining from, she sees a rag, sniffs it, shocked to learn her findings are correct. Chloroform inhalation of this magnitude, won’t last more than twenty-four hours in the
