Dovetail: A Novel(89)

“Well, of course. I remember everything you tell me. That day was notable because it was the day you agreed to be my friend. Quite a score for me. I like to think of it as my lucky day.”

“Really?” It was just the one word, but she sounded pleased.

As the boat banged against the rocky shoreline, Joe hopped out and dragged one end to ground it, then helped Kathleen out of the boat. She held up a red plastic flashlight. “Nice of the boat’s owners to leave this for us.”

“So we’re exploring?” he said, glancing back.

“There’s not much to explore, but we might as well look around as long as we’re here,” she said. They followed the cone of light down a wood-chipped path and came to a clearing with a firepit in the middle of it. Kathleen shone the light in an arc, revealing two picnic tables and a large metal garbage bin. On the ground was assorted trash: plastic bags, beer cans, and scraps of paper.

“Looks like the aftermath of a raccoon convention,” Joe said.

“More like a visit from some slobs. It was never like this when I came here as a kid. Honestly, how hard is it to pick up after yourself?” She moved the light around, stopping on what looked like a deflated balloon. “Is that . . . ?”

Joe got closer and inspected it. “Yup, it’s a used rubber.” He shook his head. “Kids today. We teach them about abstinence, but they don’t listen.”

“Gross. I was thinking of picking up some of this trash, but now I’m not touching anything.”

“Smart decision.”

“I hate to leave it like this, though. It makes me sad to see all this garbage. When I used to come out here with my mom, it was so lovely.”

Joe sensed the wistfulness in her voice. “If it really bothers you, we can come back tomorrow with gloves and work on cleaning this place up together.”

“You’d do that?”

“Sure, why not? I mean, if it’s important to you. It wouldn’t take long.”

“You know what I like about you, Joe?” Without waiting for an answer, she continued. “You really care about other people. When my house was broken into, you slept on the couch and fixed the door. At restaurants, you leave good tips. You hold doors open for people and are polite to everyone. You pay people compliments, even Marcia, who gives you a hard time. You’ve been a good friend to me.”

“Well, thanks. It’s easy to be your friend, Kathleen.”

“It’s not just me, though. When we saw Doris at the dance, you didn’t make any jokey comments to her. You just offered to fix her son’s wheelchair, and then you did it.”

“Yeah, about that. Did you know she has a child?”

“I did. His name is Randy.”

“I didn’t know. I feel kind of bad now for razzing her all the time.”

Kathleen said, “I think she gets a kick out of you. When I go to the restaurant without you, she always asks where you are.”

“You go to the Pine Cone without me?” he asked in mock indignation, hands pressed against both sides of his face.

“Just to pick up carryout.”

“Well, that’s okay, then.” Joe was thoughtful. “That wheelchair is a total wreck. She’s got it all duct-taped up. I got the wheel back in alignment, but it needs a lot more than that. If I had a few days and some replacement parts I could fix it, but I’m guessing Randy couldn’t go without it for that long.”

“Probably not.”

Joe looked beyond the clearing. “What’s the rest of the island like?”

“Trees and dirt.”

“You make it sound so enticing. You should be a tour director.” He deepened his voice. “And here on your left, you can see trees and dirt. On the right, more trees and dirt.”

“I call it like I see it.”

The sound of a motorboat cut into the conversation, and both of them stopped to listen. It grew louder and louder until it was apparent the boat was headed toward them. When the engine cut, Kathleen said, “I think we’ve got company. Some kids wanting to party, maybe?”

“Or a couple wanting to have sex on the picnic table?”

“Yuck. My mom and I used to eat at these tables. We’d bring a bag lunch, and I’d eat my chips and lemonade and peanut butter sandwich right here.”

“You’re not going to do that anymore.”

“You got that right.”

“We should go,” Joe said. “Give the new people their privacy.”

They were halfway down the path when they heard a rustling in the woods that eclipsed the sound of the breeze in the trees. Joe held out an arm to stop her. “Did you hear that?” When she nodded, he called out, “Who’s out there?”

They listened, but it was quiet once again. When they resumed walking, the rustling started again. Joe heard Kathleen’s breathing beside him; she’d moved next to him. She whispered, “I don’t like this.”

“Probably just a squirrel,” Joe said loudly, more to assuage Kathleen’s fears than anything else. He whispered into her ear, “Or some teenagers trying to freak us out. Let’s keep going.”

Her fingers trembling, she took his hand and kept the flashlight ahead of them. They went more slowly this time but kept a steady pace. Joe breathed easier upon seeing the rowboat at the end of the path. They were nearly there when they heard the stomping of heavy boots in the underbrush and the crash of someone coming out of the trees. The intruder came running at full speed and slammed into Joe, who was knocked to the ground with a force that took his breath away.