picnic tables the Odd Fel ows erected especial y for the occasion in the bal field each year. Some of the older people always reminisced about the days when lobster was so cheap and plentiful that they would beg for something else. Ken Layton, Sanpere's resident historian, would remind everyone that around the time of the Civil War, lobsters, regardless of weight, were two cents apiece—and they pul ed in bigger lobsters then. It had al happened again this year and Sam had managed to eat two lobsters, since he was going to miss the Fish and Fritter Fry, but Pix had stopped at one to save room.
She lay back on the rough wool blanket, an old army blanket of her father's, and gazed up at the sky. You never saw so many stars in Aleford and certainly not even a quarter in Boston! She felt as if she were peering into a big overturned bowl and the milky white constel ations were tumbling out above her. The fireworks would have some competition.
Just as she was beginning to feel a bit sorry for herself, no kith nor kin by her side, Jil came and sat down. 'Do you have enough room for me?'
“I have enough room for ten or twelve of you,' Pix said, sitting up. 'Sam had to go back early and Samantha's off with her friends.'
“What a day! Business hasn't been this good in years.'
Jil was clearly excited. 'People stuck around after the parade and I even sold the lobster-pot lamp that one of the Sanfords made. It's been sitting in the store for years”
Pix knew the lamp wel . She had threatened to give it to Faith more than once and vice versa. Not only had the resourceful craftsman wired the pot buoy but he had attached netting, cork floats, and, as the piece de resistance, a whole lobster that glowed when the lamp was turned on. The plain white shade had been lavishly painted with yet more bright red crustaceans.
“That's great, especial y about the lamp.' Pix laughed.
“Don't worry,' Jil said, 'you can stil have one. He's bringing another one up tomorrow! If I'd known, I might have been able to sel them as a pair!'
“I doubt it. When you buy such an object, you like to think it's one of a kind.'
“The only thing about being so busy was that I didn't close for lunch or dinner. I missed the picnic and the fry.' Jil sounded very disappointed.
“I think I ate enough for both of us,' Pix said. 'And everyone at the parade and in your shop must have gone down to Granvil e for both. I've never seen so many people!
Mabel Hamilton told me they went through three hundred pounds of potatoes, a hundred and sixty pounds of fish, twelve gal ons of clams, fifty pounds of onions, and goodness knows how much else for the fry!'
“That's wonderful. Al the profits go to the scholarship fund for kids from fishing families, which real y helps the island. Those women are amazing. Think of al that peeling.”
But Pix was not thinking of peeling potatoes or any other vegetables. She was thinking of what Earl would say.
Seth Marshal was standing next to them, obviously waiting for an invitation. Jil gave it.
“You said there was room, didn't you, Pix? Why don't you sit down, Seth.' The woman actual y patted the blanket.
It wasn't that Pix disliked Seth. It was just not the way things were supposed to be. And come to think of it, Seth wasn't exactly flavor of the month.
He appeared to realize this and eyed his hostess a bit warily as he sat down.
“You do know we're pouring tomorrow,' Seth said.
'Yes, Earl told me this morning. I'l be there at seven. That about right?'
“You don't real y need to be, unless of course you want to,' Seth added hastily.
With the start in sight, Pix was feeling generous. 'Don't worry, I'm not going to hang around al the time. I just want to see the foundation go in and cal Faith.' It was the least she could do.
“No problem,' Seth replied.
Pix sighed. She had the feeling she'd be hearing this phrase often in the weeks to come. And Seth was also sitting awful y close to Jil . In the moonlight, his resemblance to one of Captain Kidd's mates was even more pronounced. Maybe Jil found him romantic. Pix thought him hirsute—and suspect. She started to think what he could possibly gain from Mitchel Pierce's demise—she'd never been happy with Seth's explanation for being at the site—
when a long shadow fel across the blanket.
“May I join your party?' Norman Osgood asked. Pix was delighted. She might have the chance to work in some of her questions, although with Jil and Seth around, it might be hard to steer the conversation toward Mitchel Pierce.
Jil had made it plain that she didn't want to hear anything at al about the subject whenever Pix had referred to the event.
“Are Addie and Rebecca watching from their lawn?'
Pix asked.
“No, Addie is stil not feeling wel and she needs Rebecca. I suggested they go over to the Medical Center or at least cal a doctor, but Addie won't hear of it.'
“According to my mother, neither lady has ever had any contact with the medical profession,' Seth said.
“That's amazing.' Norman was astonished. 'At their ages. Not even tonsils?'
“If they did have them out, the doctor did it in the kitchen, and since that meant a boat trip in Addie's case, it might never have been done”
Norman was stil shaking his head when the first rocket went up and they al said 'Aah.”
A huge golden chrysanthemum shape fil ed the sky and the petals dropped slowly toward the sea, leaving trails of golden sand. The show was spectacular. The finale was positively orgasmic and the cries of the crowd grew louder and louder as bursts of color and sound exploded overhead. Then suddenly, it was finished and only smoke hung in the air like dense fog.
Norman sighed happily. 'That was wonderful. I love fireworks, especial y over the water. I was in a boat on the Hudson for the Statue of Liberty display in 1986. Sublime, but this came close.'
“Have you lived in New York City al your life?' Pix asked as a way of starting her inquisition.
“No, my dear, I haven't, however you'l have to wait for the tale, which is a lengthy and enthral ing one. I told the Bainbridges I'd be back as soon as the show was over, and I am a little concerned about Adelaide. She hasn't been eating, and you know how she enjoys her table.”
Something must be wrong indeed, Pix thought.
'Please cal me if there's anything I can do. Maybe my mother could convince her to cal a doctor.'
“I doubt that the Almighty Himself could convince Mrs.
Bainbridge to do anything she didn't want to do, but if I think otherwise, I'l cal . Thank you.”
Pix had the peculiar feeling that Norman had become closer to the Bainbridges than she was—two people she'd known al her life.
Seth picked up on it, too. 'Who do you think is adopting who?'
“I'm not sure,' Pix said. 'Maybe it's mutual.”
Jil jumped up and said she was exhausted after her busy day. 'Al I want to do is col apse.' Pix said goodbye to them both and slowly began to fold up her blanket as she watched the crowd disperse—as she watched Jil and Seth go into The Blueberry Patch together.
Duncan Cowley was lying on the mattress in his secret cabin, staring up at the rafters. Long-ago inhabitants had carved their names and various epitaphs into the wood.
He'd painted over the ones on the wal s in disgust at such sentiments as 'Maine Sail Camp. I pine for yew.' He was disgusted tonight, as wel —and angry. What a bunch of pussies. They knew how important the ful moon was and stil his friends had deserted him for some stupid fireworks.
The cabin glowed with the candles he'd lighted. He looked at his watch. It was stil too early. He closed his eyes yet knew he wouldn't sleep. Restless, he got up and went over to the trunk.
He'd just have to do it alone.
It was a long wait until midnight. Pix had been tempted to cal Faith but didn't want to bother her. If she was home, she'd be weary after working the holiday. She hadn't had a chance to tel Faith about the blood red sails at the camp.
