Envious Moon(29)

A moment later, I heard them. I sucked in my breath and held it. They were on the path. Two, maybe three, men. Loud voices. I looked to my right through the dark and the rain. I couldn’t see anything. Then I saw the fuzzy yellow glow of a flashlight in the fog. It was gone and then there it was again. There would be no reason for them to come in here, unless they saw my footprints or the drag marks from the bag. I released my breath and held it again. I heard them clearly now. They were even with me on the path. I saw two beams of light. One of them said, “How much farther?”

“It’s got to be right here,” the other said.

Then they were gone. I exhaled. I sat still until my legs began to cramp. I shifted and stretched them out in front of me. I stared into the blackness. I didn’t dare move. I had nowhere to go.





Sometime before dawn the rain stopped. I only noticed it when I realized it had grown quieter. At first I didn’t attribute it to the rain. It had been over an hour since the men took what I think was their third pass on the trail that led to the cove. I had spent my time trying to stay awake. Now and again I caught myself drifting off where I sat under the raincoat. Once when I woke I noticed the silence. The only water falling was the drip from the branches above. I spent my time considering my options. My only goal was to reach Hannah. I knew I could not go to the house. I wished I could get to a phone. I would call Victor and find out what they knew. I thought about trying to steal a skiff from one of the two island harbors. Piloting it back to the mainland. But then it occurred to me that if they were looking for me like this, they already had Victor. And Berta knew they were looking for me. And Captain Alavares too. Returning to the mainland wouldn’t do me a lick of good.

My time was running out here. Soon it would be light and when it was light I would not be able to hide anymore. They would bring more men and maybe even dogs. Regardless, they would find me and when they did the jig would be up.

All I wanted to do was to see Hannah. I thought if I could see Hannah then maybe everything would be okay. If they found me, there was no way they would let me see her. But maybe if I went to them, it would be different. Maybe I could make a deal. I will talk to you, tell you what you want to know. In return, I want to be alone with Hannah. Let me explain all that happened. Let me tell her how much I love her, and how love can trump anything, even this.

I allowed myself the cigarette I had denied myself for the last five or six hours. I took my time and savored it. Through the trees in front of me the night was starting to lift. The fog was still heavy but things were turning from black to gray. I smoked and I took solace in the fact that at least I was going to the one place where Hannah was. I didn’t know what other choice I had.





I discovered something new about fear that morning. As I have said before, I had been afraid many times. Both at sea and on land. But my fear in the past had always been somehow tied to choice. I could choose to jump off the bridge with Victor to the waiting water. I could choose to not show up for the boat and the trip to the Grand Banks. Though, of course, once at sea there was not a lot I could do. The ocean was going to dictate what happened to all of us. But that morning, walking up the trail from the cove to the great house for the last time, I was not afraid. That’s the honest truth. A sense of calm and resignation came over me. And I think that’s because all the choices I had made led to this one place, this one lonely walk across rain-soaked earth.

What transpired next was something straight out of a movie. I emerged out of the heavy fog from the side yard of the great house to find a driveway filled with police cars. Sheriff cars, state police cars, a large white van. Men stood in small groups talking. I saw Sheriff Riker leaning against one car sipping coffee out of a styrofoam cup talking to three state troopers. There were men in suits. No one saw me. I stopped at the edge of the grass. All of them were engrossed in conversation. I took a deep breath, and then I shouted, “I want to see Hannah.”

Everyone stopped talking all at once. All heads turned toward me. Time seemed to grind to a halt for a moment. They all just looked at me. And I must have been a sight, sitting in the rain all night. I thought about shouting my request again, as if they did not hear me the first time. But then Sheriff Riker stepped forward from everyone else and he calmly said my name. “Anthony,” he said. “Let us see your hands, okay, buddy?”

And just like in the movies, I slowly raised my hands over my head. I opened my palms for them all to see. “I want to see Hannah,” I said again.

“One thing at a time,” Sheriff Riker said. “I need you to do me a favor, Anthony, understand?”

I nodded.

“Get down on your knees now, Anthony. Keep your hands above your head, just like that. But get down on your knees.”

I did as he said. I slumped to the ground onto my knees and my oilskin bag slid off my shoulder and I let it fall next to me.

“Okay,” the Sheriff said. “Just stay there, Anthony. Two of the officers are going to come to you now. Nod if you understand.”

It seemed pretty clear that I understood since I went to my knees but I nodded anyway. Two of the state troopers, huge men in gray uniforms with jackboots, came toward me from the driveway. When they reached me they did not say anything. One of them took my hands from above my head and he pulled them down behind my back and I felt the cuffs go on, heard them snap into place. The morning was coming on but not yet here, the fog still heavy and the air the color of pigeons. The ocean was right there but you couldn’t have seen it if you wanted to. I was on my knees, two troopers looming above me. I looked over at the house. Men talked all around me but to me it was all empty chatter. My eyes flitted up the fa?ade to the turret window. No light on inside. No sign of Hannah anywhere. The empty glass in the rising misty morning didn’t reflect a damn thing.