Envious Moon(23)

One morning as she dressed for work, I lay in the bed and looked around the remarkable room. It was square where the door from the hallway led into it and then it curved outward until it reached the turret. The high ceiling had an ornate border. At its center a pattern of pale blue and gold swirled around the large light fixture. Walls painted an eggshell blue. A few minutes later, Hannah came to me and told me I had to get up.

“How ’bout I just wait for you to return?”

“Not today. The cleaning service comes.”

“Come back to bed,” I said.

“I have to go. I’m going to be late already.”

I reached for her and she feigned like she didn’t want me to but I pulled her down on top of me. “Stay,” I said.

“I can’t, Anthony. I have to go.”

I kissed her forehead. “Come on.”

She shook her head and broke free and stood up. “Don’t stay in bed too long. They’ll be here soon.”

After Hannah left I closed my eyes, only for a moment, I told myself. But I fell asleep and when I woke I heard voices in the hallway. And they were not just any voices, but the voices of my home. Women with Portuguese accents.

I dove out of bed in only my shorts and I ran to the closet and slipped inside it, closing the door behind me. They were in the room now. The closet door was partly ajar but I didn’t dare close it all the way. I had left my clothes on the bed, and my boots were on the floor.

There were two of them. Through the slightly open door I saw hands on the bed. I moved deeper into the closet, trying not to make any noise. Her clothes were all around me now, and I could smell her soap on them. It was a smell particular to Hannah, and I had already learned to love it. A figure passed by the door and then came back and I got a good look at her. It was Maria, a girl I had grown up with in Galilee. We had gone to school together from kindergarten until I dropped out after tenth grade. The other woman sounded older. I heard her say something and then Maria was out of sight. I pictured Maria. She had sweet brown eyes. Stocky-legged but pretty. The kind of girl Berta always wanted me to marry. I had not seen her in a while, though I knew her father. He was a fisherman on a small boat that caught pollock and other bottom-feeders for the big companies.

The older woman came into view and I did not know her. She was short and heavy, curly dark hair in a hairnet. She held my shirt and my pants in her hand, lifting them up like they were garbage. She said, “Algum tem estado se divertindomuito.” Someone’s been having fun. I heard Maria laugh and then the sound of a vacuum. I exhaled.

I didn’t move until I was certain they were gone. I never told Hannah about the close call, probably because I didn’t want to remind her how different we were. That I grew up with her maids.





Later that same afternoon, I grew antsy with the same routine. I grew tired of the beach. I didn’t want to fish anymore. I paced around at my camp smoking for a while and a darkness came over me. Maybe it was seeing Maria in that house. Wondering what Maria would have thought had she opened the door before I had a chance to wake and found me in the bed. Something about this idea soured the happiness I had been feeling. I paced around and I thought that it might be a good idea to go see Hannah. I didn’t want to wait until the evening when she got home. I wanted to see her now, just to be pulled back to where I was before the maids shattered my sleep.

I had not been back to the village since I arrived on the island. I went to the general store near the lighthouse for food and cigarettes, but my only other interaction was with Hannah and the great house. The village was where Sheriff Riker was. And the roads were where Sheriff Riker patrolled in his car. But my need to see her that afternoon outweighed any concerns I had about running into him.

And so I walked that long island road again, as I had that first day. I wore my hat low over my eyes. I winced every time a car approached but the only cars I saw belonged to islanders and to tourists.

When I reached the edge of the village, I turned down one of the side streets. I had not bothered to ask her where the ice cream store was, but I knew there were only a few commercial blocks on the island. I didn’t remember seeing it on the Main Street in front of the ferry but I thought this side street would lead me to the other set of stores that I did not pass that day. As it worked out, the store was on the side street itself, a small clapboard building next to other small clapboard buildings that housed clothing stores, delis, and little storefront restaurants. A small red sign had Benny’s written across it in script.

When I opened the screen door, I did not see Hannah. There were two plain-faced girls that looked like sisters behind a wooden counter. The only customers were a family, a tall, athletic-looking man and his equally tall wife. Two blond boys. I went to the counter.

“Can I help you?” one of the plain-faced girls asked.

“I’m here to see Hannah.”

The girl looked puzzled. I knew it was the way I appeared. Shorts with work boots on. Dark skin. She turned toward a room in the back I couldn’t see and she called her name. In a moment Hannah came from the right, wiping her hands on a dishcloth. She could not disguise her feelings. I already knew her well enough to read her face. She did not light up with the sight of me. She did not want me here and when she smiled, it was weak and forced. To my right one of the plain-faced girls handed ice cream cones across the counter to the tall man. She whispered hello.