by Kaira Rouda
“He’s sick today,” the young man said.
“Sick?” Dorsey said. “Ah, ok, thanks.” Jack had never been sick the entire time she’d known him. As soon as her Explorers Club outing was over, she’d go find him in his cottage, bring him some soup if she could manage it. And she’d tell him everything was going to be OK, just like he’d done for her so many times since they’d met.
Fortunately her little explorers were young, five and seven, and there were only two. Slow walkers, perfect for her aching body.
“These are shell sacks, where baby shells grow,” Dorsey said, holding up what looked to be snakeskin left behind by a large reptile. It was already hot, trickles of sweat ran down her back between her shoulder blades.
“Ick,” said the older of the two girls. Their parents had dressed them in matching bathing suits, hot pink and white striped, with matching pink sunhats. They were like bright little Easter eggs on a field of brown sand and shells.
“Don’t say ick. Touch it. Be brave. It’s important for girls to know how to take care of themselves,” Dorsey said, a reminder to herself more than a lesson for the kids. She had driven the girls in the golf cart to the southern end of the island, near Bloody Point. Now, as they trailed behind her on the beach, she walked toward the spot where she and Jack had made love and her stomach clenched with the memory.
Dorsey knew she had to find Jack, as soon as possible. She realized he’d called in sick because he was mad at her and her big mouth. Why had she told Steve the truth about them, she wondered again. She’d make it right. Take the fall, leave the island and report Steve. She wondered if his fingerprints could be lifted from her neck? She supposed she could ask the sheriff. But no, she didn’t need to stir up more trouble for Jack. She needed to fix things. To help him. He owed Steve money somehow and without his job, he’d never be able to pay him back. This was the job of his dreams, the life of his dreams and because of her, it was slipping away. She’d fix it.
“I’m cold. It looks scary over there,” said the younger one sitting next to her on the cart.
“That’s called the backside of the island. When we round this point, we’re outside the plantation. But don’t worry. Some very nice people live in those woods,” Dorsey said. “There’s a cemetery up on that little hill, too.”
“Yeah, and snakes, and alligators, and bugs and ghosts,” said the older girl. She stopped. The younger one froze too.
“We want to go back,” the younger one said.
“Look, what’s that?” the older one said, pointing into the thick woods.
“What? What did you see?” Dorsey asked, walking to stand beside them while looking into the dense trees.
“It was a man. And he didn’t have clothes on,” said the older one. “I’m scared.”
Dorsey followed their gaze, the hair on her neck standing up while a chill ran down her spine. She pulled the two girls close to her. “I don’t see anybody, but we’ll go.” Oh my gosh, has he followed me here? Is Steve this crazy, this controlling?
Panicking, she said, “Let’s race back to the golf cart. Go.” When Dorsey rubbed the oogle in her pocket, she was able to run without pain as she tried to hurry the girls to the cart.
“Hurry, Miss Dorsey, I’m scared. Please hurry,” said the little one, sliding close to Dorsey so her sister could sit up front too.
“I don’t want to look back that way,” the older girl said.
“We’ll be back at the Kids Club before you know it.” Dorsey pressed the golf cart’s pedal to the floor, willing it to go faster and wishing she’d grabbed one without a governor added to keep the cart from going very fast.
Did the girls really see something, or were they just spooked by the end of the island? Little girls don’t make their bogeymen naked. They saw something. Instead of heading up to the road that meandered through the desolate pines and live oaks, Dorsey drove them back along the beach. Against the rules, but she was spooked, too.
When they finally arrived, Dorsey hustled the girls into the Kids Club, though she had watched the rearview mirror all the way down the beach and hadn’t seen anybody following them. Dorsey’s college helper, Suzy, met them on the porch.
“Miss Suzy, these two need a very special lunch with extra French fries,” Dorsey said.
“We saw a naked man in the woods,” the younger one said.
“Miss Dorsey?” Suzy asked.
“Miss Suzy, I’m headed right now to tell Steve about it. These two think maybe it was a man who’s lost and can’t find his house or his clothes,” Dorsey said, winking at the other woman. “We’ll have Sheriff Smith go find him.”
“That’s a good idea,” Miss Suzy said, shooing the girls inside the cottage and giving her a frightened look. “Y’all be sure to tell Mr. Steve right away, Miss Dorsey.”
“I will. Bye girls,” Dorsey said. Before heading back to the inn, she took a detour, she needed to check on Jack. As she drove past the rows of sunbathers on the beach, Dorsey thought about how intrinsically trusting they all were. Sitting there, drinking what was brought to them, defenseless in their flimsy, bright-colored vacation clothing. And the kids, running back and forth from the water to their parents, building castles.
Maybe the girls saw a wayward golfer, using nature as his restroom, she thought. That’s probably all it was.
She knocked on Jack’s cottage door and then walked inside when he didn’t answer. His bedroom door was closed but she opened the door quietly, hoping not to wake him if he was sleeping. The shades were pulled, but she could see his gorgeous body outlined in his bed.
Dorsey sat down carefully at the foot of the bed.
“Aaah!” Jack yelled, bounding up, fists drawn.
“Jack, it’s me,” Dorsey said, jumping backward off the bed, jarring her sore ribs and hip.
“My God, why are you sneaking around?” Jack said, sighing and lying back down.
“Are you still mad at me? Whoa, what’s wrong with your eye?” Dorsey said, standing over him, realizing Jack’s left eye was swollen shut.
“Yeah, black eye, concussion, I just need to sleep,” Jack said, closing his right eye.
“You’re supposed to stay awake, I think? Right? Jack, what happened to you?” Dorsey asked, reaching for his hand. It was cold and damp. He didn’t squeeze back.
“The nurse checked me out, gave me some pain meds. I really just need to sleep,” Jack said. “I’ll be fine once the swelling goes down. No big deal.”
“Did somebody attack you, tell you to stay out of their way?”
“Something like that. Didn’t even see it coming. I had just sent the rest of the clean-up staff home for the night, had turned out all the lights and bam, someone hit me from behind. The nurse thinks it was some sort of metal pole or spike, maybe what we use to set up the wedding reception tents? Who knows?”
This was all her fault, she realized. She was happy he couldn’t see her bruises and he hadn’t noticed her lip. She knew she had to leave him alone, let him get over this, get better.
“I’m so sorry, Jack. I’ll request a transfer, you’ll be fine,” Dorsey said, leaning over and kissing his forehead gently.
“Hope it’s not too late,” he said, rolling over so his back was to her.
She’d ruined everything by confessing her love for Jack to Steve. Tears streaming down her cheeks, Dorsey made her way out the door and back to the golf cart. She knew she had to leave the island, start over again. She would tell Steve she was leaving in the morning. That would save Jack’s job and everything would work out fine. Dorsey walked carefully past the front desk—passing by Paula who was flirting with an overweight, bald golfer—and slowly climbed up the stairs.
“Steve is in a meeting, Miss Pittman. Perhaps you could come back later?” his assistant said with an artificial smile once she’d made it up the stairs and to his office door.
“This is important. I’ll have to go straight to Sheriff Smith if he’s too busy to see me,” Dorsey said, slow
ly turning to leave.
“Just a minute,” the assistant said, and then picked up the telephone. “Miss Pittman needs to speak with you.”
“Do you have an Advil?” Dorsey asked and Steve’s assistant gave her two and a bottle of water before showing her in.
“Now what, Dorsey?” Steve asked. Sheriff Smith was sitting in his conference room. Perfect.
Steve looked like Mr. Rogers with a hangover. Cardigan sweater, white t-shirt, both wrinkled. Even his Top Club nametag was pinned on crooked today.
Could she accuse Steve of attacking her, and Jack? In front of the sheriff? She had no proof. All she could do was keep him around by telling him what the girls saw. “I’m not sure it’s anything, but two children and I were on the beach, near the tip of the island at Bloody Point, and the little girls saw a naked man watching us. I didn’t see him, but I believe them,” she said. “There are a lot of dangerous people on this island, I’ve found. In fact, I want a transfer, Steve.”
“A flasher at Bloody Point?” Sheriff Smith said, slapping his wide leg. “If this doesn’t just beat the band.”
“But you didn’t see anything, right? And a transfer is out of the question for you,” Steve sputtered, looking at the sheriff.
“I believe the little girls, and so will their parents. And I deserve a transfer much more than Jack does,” she said.
“Great, we’ll have to give them their stay for free, and they’ll leave the island. This is a disaster,” Steve said. “No more bad publicity. And the answer is no.”
Dorsey was tired of the double conversation. She wished the sheriff would catch on, but apparently, he never would.
“Like I said, son, I’m retiring in a month. Nobody’s taking my place, least not yet,” the sheriff said. “I don’t pretend to know what’s going on here, not on the front of the island. Didn’t used to be this way. Used to be only forty people lived here. Knew ’em all by name. All got along too, black, white, whitish-black, blackish-white. Now, new people. New money. Y’all create plantations, put up fences and expect to divide us, keep out the folks who live here. But we were here first. And now, we ha dat lan’ ent wu’t.”
Dorsey looked at Steve; he looked back at Dorsey and then said, “Miss Pittman hasn’t heard Gullah spoken before.”
“Actually I have,” Dorsey said quietly. “I’ve been studying it. It’s beautiful.”
“I agree,” the sheriff said. “Steve, have you heard it or just read about it?”
“Well,” Steve began and then stopped.
“That’s sad, son,” the sheriff said. “Gullah is the name of a people and the name of the language spoken by them. It’s from the slaves brought here from West Africa and then mixed with English dialects. It’s an English creole, and you can only find it spoken on the Sea Islands of Georgia and South Carolina. I picked some up living here, working among these people. You could learn a lot from these people too, if you cared to. It’s always wise tuh set tuh de af’ de boat. Good day.”
After the sheriff left, Dorsey was alone with Steve. She knew without a doubt he was her attacker – and judging from the look in his eyes, he knew that she knew the truth.
“Look, Steve, I’m here to request a transfer. I know I haven’t been the model Top Club employee here, but I will be if you will give me a fresh start. Just recommend me to a sister resort. That’s all I need and I’ll leave here and won’t look back,” Dorsey said. “Jack has given his heart to this place, this is where he wants to be. Kick me out, OK? You don’t need to hurt anyone else to make your point.”
“Oh, aren’t you cute,” Steve said, standing up and walking to the windows behind his desk. “Everything here is my decision. I decide who stays, who goes. If I want you to stay, you will. Do you understand?”
“No, I don’t,” she said, tears popping up in the corners of her eyes. She dug her fingernail into her palm to make them stop as she hurried out of his office and down the stairs. Outside, the sun was sliding lower in the sky. Dorsey was sure the bruises were beginning to show through her makeup. Her forehead throbbed and her lip was swollen. The Advil couldn’t handle everything that hurt.
She drove the Kids Club golf cart to her cottage, and makeup reapplied, she decided she looked about as good as she could. She didn’t know what to do next, where to turn. Jack was mad, her head was pounding, her stomach was growling but when she opened the refrigerator, it was empty. Dorsey glanced at the calendar tacked up in the kitchen and realized, with a start, that Tade would be arriving in the morning. Had it really been three weeks since he’d left? She’d pack her bags, stay one last night, and take the ferry in the morning. Dorsey dropped into the kitchen chair and put her head down on the table.
She had no idea how long she’d been asleep when Jack appeared in her cottage, pulling her into his arms and then kissing her hard on the lips.
“Ahhh,” Dorsey cried, before she could stop herself, pulling back and covering her lips with her hands.
“Dorsey, what is wrong? What happened to your lip?” Jack said, concern flooding his beautiful face. His left eye was still swollen shut.
“The little girls and I were flashed at Bloody Point, and like you, somebody jumped me last night and warned me to mind my own business,” she said, and then the dam broke and the tears began washing away her carefully applied camouflage.
Jack didn’t say anything, just held her tight. After a while, he walked her to the couch and sat beside her until she’d calmed down enough to talk.
“I’m OK, really. Just scared. What’s going on in this place, Jack?”
“Tell me what happened to you,” Jack said, his jaw tense.
As Dorsey told him the details of the attack, he couldn’t sit. He paced back and forth, angry.
“I can’t believe I wasn’t there for you,” he said, shaking his head.
“You were probably knocked out by then. And that was my fault,” Dorsey said.
“We’re sticking together from now on,” Jack said. “And we’ll either make it right here, or leave here together. Deal?”
“I’m so sorry, Jack,” Dorsey said, dropping her head into her hands, the tears coming again. She didn’t tell him she was leaving. She couldn’t. But it was the right thing to do.
“It’s not your fault,” he said, sitting down beside her on the couch.
“Yes, it really is all my fault,” Dorsey said hugging him gently.
Chapter 18
Jack
The next morning, they both called in sick and stayed in bed together, laptops open. The problem for him was leaving early meant breaking his contract and he’d owe back the money Steve had advanced him. Jack knew his mom had used the money to pay off her mortgage, it was gone and he couldn’t get it back. If he could transfer to another Top Club resort, though, he knew he could figure out a way to work it out. It was the only way now that Dorsey had been attacked. When he saw the bruises on her neck, her swollen lip, well, he had been speechless. Without proof, he couldn’t accuse Steve. Not yet. He’d get the proof they needed, somehow.
“How odd,” Dorsey said, looking at her computer screen. “The history of this island is so volatile. People through the centuries discover it, try to tame it, try to make it their own, but fail and end up leaving. The only people who have managed to stay have been the former slaves, convicts, all sorts of crazy people.”
Jack looked over at Dorsey, using only one eye as his left eye was still mostly closed. The skin around his eye had started to turn exotic colors of purple and blue. He supposed he would now join the ranks of people who fail to make it on Indigo Island, unfortunately. But Dorsey was more important.
“I’m not letting you out of my sight from now on. Understand?” Jack said, running his hand through her hair. Nobody had ever filled the emptiness inside him like she did. Just her touch calmed him, filled him with peace.
Dorsey nodded and nuzzled her head into his shoulder as he squeezed her tight.
“You’re so lucky he let you go,
that nothing else happened,” Jack said, kissing her tenderly. “I’m going to do some research, see what’s open at the other Top Club resorts; we’ll transfer somewhere together.”
“I don’t want you to do that for me,” she said. “And don’t you owe Steve money or something?”
“Well, sort of. But I’m going to figure it out. I’m doing it for us. This is crazy shit going on. We can do better,” Jack said, as he rolled out of bed, lost in thought. Jack thought about the other job offers he had turned down, but reminded himself he wouldn’t have meet Dorsey if he had taken those paths. Everything would work out fine. He just needed a plan, and a job, so he could take care of his mom. And Dorsey.
By mid-afternoon, he had seven job applications sent out and one interview lined up for the next week. They’d be fine. But he’d miss this place. Indigo Island had his heart, even as Steve was trying to destroy it.
That afternoon after work, Tade, Jack and Dorsey sat on a bright blue blanket on the beach, eating turkey sandwiches and drinking water, beer, and wine, respectively.
“Are you guys ready yet?” Tade said, his ten-year-old energy reserves back to full power after his meal.
“OK. This time we’re going to beat him,” Dorsey said, giving Tade a high five.
“Jack’s a kissy boy. We’ll beat him,” Tade said. Jack grabbed him, hoisted him over his shoulder, and started toward the ocean.
“No, no. You’re not a kissy boy. Help, Dorsey!” Tade screamed.
“I’m just a kissy girl,” Dorsey said laughing. Jack winked at her, thinking how beautiful she looked in the pale blue sundress she was wearing, her laughter filling his heart. She would be a great mom, he knew.
Times like these, like this evening, when it felt as if they were the only ones on the island, made Jack’s spirits soar. He could almost imagine himself as a father, even though he’d had no role model. He almost could forget about Steve and his irrational warnings. Life at this moment became a muted sunset: calm, soft, and happy. But at the same time he knew if they had to leave, they would do it together.
