The Language of Sand

He thought for a second. “Even though the atom was first proposed by a Greek philosopher in 500 B.C., it wasn’t until 1857 that a scientist identified what he called a ‘negative corpuscle,’ an electron, the first atomic particle. That’s a fancy way of getting to the point, which is that there are a lot of things we can’t see, but they’re there. So many things we can’t taste or touch or hear, but they’re there. Since I was a kid, folks have claimed they’ve seen the ghost of Mr. Jasper. I don’t know anybody personally who has. Can’t say for certain anybody does. That’s how a story becomes a story. People talking about something until what may be fiction becomes fact. Even if nobody ever does see Mr. Jasper, that doesn’t mean he isn’t here.”

“I did something,” Abigail admitted. “I moved the oil pail in the lamp room. It was a test to determine if it would move back by itself. Not very scientific, huh?”

“Did it move?”

“I’ve been too nervous to look.”

“Would you feel better if the pail was in the same place?”

“I’m not sure. I wanted some sort of corroboration, I suppose.”

“Will you feel better if you find out one way or the other?”

“I’m not sure about that either.”

“Want me to check for you?”

“Would you?”

Bert nodded, happy to oblige.

“You won’t be scared?”

“What scares me is that.” He pointed to the ocean and the horizon beyond.

“The hurricane?”

“I don’t understand much in this world. I do understand physics. A hurricane is a force of nature. Nothing else that can compare.”

“You’re afraid of this hurricane.”

“You can be afraid of the known or the unknown,” Bert replied. “Me, I pick the known. Then again, if I’m choosing, I’d pick not to be afraid at all.”

“Me too, Bert. Me too.”

 

  usufruct (y? z frukt?, –s–, yz?y–, ys?–), n. Roman and Civil Law. the right of enjoying all the advantages derivable from the use of something that belongs to another, as far as is compatible with the substance of the thing not being destroyed or injured. [1620–30; < LL usufructus, equiv. to L usu, abl. of usus (see USE (n.)) + fructus (see FRUIT)]

The caretaker’s house looked like a condemned building. With the plywood covering the windows and the chipping paint, a casual observer would have guessed it was uninhabited. Abigail had to remind herself she lived there.

“That’s that,” Denny declared, hammering in the final nail. “You’re as ready as you can be.”

“Only I won’t be able to see the storm coming.”

“You won’t have to see it,” Bert told her. “You’ll be able to hear it.”

“That’s the worst,” Denny agreed. “Sounds like the whole world’s crashing down on you.”

“Not helping, guys.”

“Sorry.”

“We should get going,” Bert hinted to Denny, who was reluctant to leave.

“You got everything you need?” Denny asked. “Nothing else we can do? Nothing?”

“I think I’m set.”

Then Abigail realized she didn’t actually have any of the things she needed. She’d left Merle’s store without getting supplies for herself. She’d also forgotten to go to the market for food and water.

“Um, maybe not.”

“I’m heading through town.”

Denny opened the passenger door to the truck as if he were her personal valet. He wasn’t taking no for an answer. So the three of them squeezed into the front seat, with Abigail wedged in the middle.

“Where do you want me to drop you, Abby?”

“At Merle’s, please.”

Bert clucked his tongue, the way he did at the laundromat. “Might want to hit Weller’s first. They’ll be running out of essentials shortly. If they haven’t already.”

“I’ll be at the Kettle when you’re through,” Denny told her as they clambered from of the truck. “You can come