by Unknown
In spite of the closed door, Hannah could hear them as they started singing again. This time it was “Sweet Caroline”, one of their favorites. Usually, hearing them sing made her smile, but now she only felt a pang and walked over to the porch’s railing to gaze out at the tableau of the sand and boardwalk and water, framed on either side by tall tasseled marsh grasses. The sun was winning its fight to shine through the haze more and more, the fog finally burning off.
They had caught three fish, two flukes and a winter flounder, and, after Pam took care of the grisly business of cleaning them out back, had breaded and fried them for lunch and served them with potato chips and tubs of Buddy’s store-made coleslaw. As Hannah had expected, Pam had brought back at least a week’s worth of food and two weeks’ worth of wine from Buddy’s, and had cracked open a bottle as soon as they got back from fishing, pouring liberally into wine goblets and proposing a toast to the fish.
“To Walter, Charlie, and Fred, the kind fish who have given up their lives so that we may feast. May they rest in peace and swim happily ever after in fish heaven where the water is clear and all the plankton know their name.”
“Hear, hear!”
“Blub, blub!”
To Hannah, all of it felt like an artificial vacation, her mother and her friends too jovial. What was this all really about anyway? She didn’t need to witness their fabulous friendship; she’d been watching it all her life. What she needed were answers. Why did her mother keep her at arm’s length? Really why, not some excuse about her past. Hannah was deeply saddened to hear that her mother had suffered so much at her own mother’s hands, but she also knew Keeley was capable of loving with an open heart in spite of her abusive childhood. She loved her three friends with abandon, she was lavish with her friendships with everyone else, she threw herself one hundred percent into her marriage with Ben. Why not Hannah? Why this trepidation that was in everything between them?
And now Hannah had been ejected from the kitchen, pushed out of their inner circle once again. She was tired of it. Tired, and, honestly, angry. She formed fists and simply let them rest on the sun-warmed wood of the porch railing, letting the crisp October air cool her down. She had been tempted to tell them all to go to hell in there, as they laughed and sang together. Tell them all just to go back to their oh-so-important lives. She would pick up her own pieces, figure things out somehow. After all, this was her lot in life, she might as well get used to it.
At least she had Daniel. Or did she? Would he run off, get tired of her eventually? If he did, would she be able to stand it? If she opened the door the rest of the way, walked through it with him, would there be any way to get her safety back? Because there was a certain safety in being alone. No one could hurt you if you didn’t let anyone close enough.
Just then, the front door was pulled open. Hannah didn’t turn around. She listened and realized that they weren’t singing anymore and the banging from the kitchen had stopped.
“Hey, Hannah,” Keeley said through the screen. “Come in. We’re going to play Kamikaze Uno. And I’m going to whip your butt.”
Hannah didn’t turn around. She was afraid to even speak. The words she was dying to say, hateful and angry, waited at her lips.
“Come on! You remember Kamikaze Uno? We played it when you and Daniel came. You know, it was my genius behind the whole Kamikaze idea this summer,” Keeley said, raising her voice when she said the last sentence in order to be overheard inside.
A muffled protest came from the sun room. It was probably Amy or Pam, who usually came up with the twists they made on games.
Hannah stood very still.
The screen door springs squeaked as her mother walked out on to the porch.
“Hannah?”
Hannah shook her head.
Keeley walked over and put her hand on Hannah’s shoulder. “Are you being a party pooper? Come on-“
Hannah spun around. “What? I don’t want to play Uno! Kamikaze whatever. I want to talk to you. But I can’t because it’s a party. It’s always a party. We never talk anymore, just the two of us. Even when it is just the two of us, it’s chatter-chatter-chatter. Nothing important. Nothing that matters! God forbid we’re serious for five seconds. Well, I’m tired of it, Mom. I love you, but…” she said, taking a long shuddering breath before continuing. “But I don’t think you love me. I think you want to.”
She breathed a minute, searching her mother’s face while her own trembled. “You know that song, “I Can’t Make You Love Me”? Well, I can’t. I can’t make you feel something you don’t.”
Keeley brought her hands up and clasped them in front of her face. “Oh, honey. Of course I love you. What would make you think such a thing?”
“What would make me think that? Why am I always the crazy one? There’s something going on. There’s something you’re not telling me! I can feel it. Stop lying.”
Keeley started to shake her head and Hannah bolted past her, stumbling a little on the steps and then running up the path toward the boardwalk.
“Hannah!”
Hannah turned off the path, stepping on the boardwalk, when she heard her mother’s running steps behind her. She stopped, panting. “What?”
“Can we just talk tomorrow? I promise we’ll talk then,” Keeley said, jogging up to her.
Hannah looked at her mother. Keeley’s brow was furrowed, a rare look for Captain’s Pollyanna. “Why? Why not now? No, I know. Because you think I’ll forget. This whole little shitstorm will blow over and the sun will come out and everything will be just rosy. Well, Mom, that’s not going to happen.”
“I’m not – it’s just better to wait until-“
Hannah put up her hand to stop her mother. “Don’t wear yourself out. I get it. Listen, you guys have a great time. You’re leaving tomorrow night, right? I’ll come back then and get a ride home with Aunt Pam. Or to wherever I end up living. But right now I need to be alone and think. Is it okay if I go to the Barefooter house? I know it’s your precious place.” She couldn’t help but sneer when she said the last words.
Keeley shook her head and crossed her arms. “I can’t believe your attitude. All I can do is hope that this is the full moon and not you. Not the daughter I raised.”
The words popped out. “Yeah, you raised me well between the times you abandoned me, leaving me alone, just a little girl, all alone in our house. Sometimes for days. They call it child neglect.”
Keeley looked as if she’d been slapped, her mouth forming an o.
Regret piercing her as soon as she let the words out, Hannah turned and walked away, feeling the heat of her mother’s gaze on her all the way down the boardwalk.
Chapter 51
Pam felt ridiculously happy - high really. It was the wine in part, but mostly it was just being together again on Captain’s, especially with Hannah. She adored Daniel, but she had to admit she was possessive of their baby and loved that they had her all to themselves for today and tomorrow before heading back home tomorrow night.
To top it off, she’d talked to Ruth that morning and she was happy to keep an eye on Jacob for as long as Pam was on Captain’s. She was even willing to stay at their house instead of her own next door so Jacob could be in his comfort zone. Thank God for Ruth: retired and recently widowed, she was able and more than willing to help Pam out in a pinch. Pam also sensed how much Ruth craved some kind of family – her own children grown and her husband gone - and made a point to include her neighbor as much as possible, inviting her over regularly for dinner or just to chat over coffee on the back deck, the occasional clatter of Jacob bowling around the house clearly music to Ruth’s ears.
Pam sat down at the table in the sun room with Amy and Zooey, cleared now of their lunch and the hurricane lamp that usually sat in the middle to make room for their card game. Keeley was getting Hannah, who was out on the front porch. Zo was shuffling the two decks they used for Kamikaze Uno, their latest invention that involved the typical rules for the game, but
you could go “Kamikaze” to win, trying to collect as many cards as possible rather than be the one with none. The person who successfully pulled off a Kamikaze won instead of the usual winner.
To go Kamikaze, you had to have a Wild card and you had to secretly hide it under your butt where you were sitting, the card providing evidence later that you went Kamikaze. Otherwise you were just plain losing and had to collect the points. This was tough to pull off as they long ago made the rule that if you had to draw two, you also had to get up and dance the tango by yourself around the table singing, “Takes Two to Tango” and then the card would be sitting there on your seat for everyone to see. If caught, you lost the Wild card and were in a worse spot than ever with all those other cards piled up in your hand.
“Hannah!”
Pam snapped to attention. That was Keeley, her voice sounding panicked. “Uh, oh. That didn’t sound good.”
“What?” Zo said, looking up from the cards she was shuffling.
Amy jumped up from her seat. “That was Keeley. Yelling for Hannah.” She ran over to the window that looked out over the front yard. Pam and Zo jumped up too, and ran over to join her.
Hannah and Keeley were standing on the boardwalk facing each other. Hannah’s hands were in fists at her sides and her whole body was rigid, her face thunderous. Keeley, on the other hand, looked lost and young, her hands splayed wide out as she looked up at Hannah. They were talking intently, Hannah’s voice clearly angry, but Pam couldn’t hear what was being said. Then Hannah turned and stalked away, heading down-island. Keeley stood, watching her go. They couldn’t see her expression, only the side of her head, her face hidden by her thick golden hair.
“Whoa,” Amy said.
“Oh, no, what happened?” Zo said. She started walking toward the front door, but Amy grabbed her arm.
Amy said, “Wait. Did, um, did Keeley talk to you about the full moon yet?”
“Full moon? No.”
“Well, I guess I’ll have to be the one to tell you, considering what just happened. Um…, Pam?”
Pam was staring, open mouthed, out at where Keeley still stood on the boardwalk. What had just happened? Everything was fine a minute ago. It was fabulous, in fact. Then, bam! She was stunned. She turned, hearing the conversation and then her name being spoken through her shock. “Yeah?”
Amy had that gentle-but-firm look she got with her kids. “Would you please go talk to Keeley? Make sure she’s okay? I need to talk to Zo. I have a feeling this full-moon theory Keeley has isn’t a pile of new-agey crap after all.”
“Full moon?” Pam repeated dully. The wine was clouding everything, making it hard to think.
Amy shook her head. “I’ll tell you later. Right now, someone needs to talk to Keeley. Would you, please?”
Pam blinked, and shook her head, trying to clear it. “Of course,” she said and nodded. “I’ll go.”
As she walked numbly through the living room to the front door she heard Zo say, “What moon? What are you talking about?”
Pam stepped outside and felt the cold October air hit her. Like a splash of cold water, it woke her up a little. She muttered, “Whoo, better. Okay. Let’s go find out what the hell’s going on.”
She rolled her shoulders back, put her chin up and started walking quickly up the path. Just as she reached the boardwalk, Keeley turned around. Her face was pale, her eyes wide and staring. Her mouth was open in an o-shape. Pam stopped in her tracks, surprised. She had never seen that expression on Keeley’s face. What was it? Confusion. But Keeley was never confused. Wrong, maybe, but always convinced, certain.
“Keeley?”
Keeley looked at Pam, and blinked, her mouth relaxing. “Oh, hi Pam. I, I’m…just….”
Pam waited, but Keeley stood there, staring again.
“Are you okay?” Pam took a step toward her.
Keeley jerked. “Oh!” She looked blankly at Pam.
“What happened? I just saw Hannah take off. Is everything okay?” Pam swore at herself for asking such a question. It was stupid, the question of a stranger. “I mean, everything’s obviously not okay. What just happened between you two? Everything was fine a minute ago.”
Keeley was staring again. “Uh,” she said, and looked down. “Hannah, uh, she’s upset. It’s the full moon.”
The full moon again. “What are you talking about?”
Keeley looked back up at her, and color started to come back into her face. “The full moon. It makes people crazy.”
Pam had to laugh. “That’s some old myth.”
Keeley shook her head. “No, it’s true,” she said in a wondering voice. “Too true.” She looked off at the water.
“Are you going to tell me what happened? Where did Hannah just go?”
Keeley continued to stare out at the water, the wind blowing her blond hair in her face. For a minute, Pam started to wonder if she was going to answer at all. Then Keeley said, “She went to the Barefooter house. She needs some alone-time.”
Pam barked out a little puff of air and disbelief. “She’s just been alone for a month. Or almost. Three weeks. That’s a hell of a lot of alone-time.”
Keeley looked back at her. She seemed to have regained herself. “No, she needs it. Some of the stuff she just said was…unbelievable. All I can say is that tomorrow morning Zo and I will go talk to her. She’ll be fine for one night there at our house. There are plenty of blankets, she won’t freeze. That little girl needs a time-out, actually.”
“Oh, come on. She’s a little old for that. She’s twenty two.”
“She’s not acting like it,” Keeley said. “Honestly, I don’t know what’s going on with her.”
Pam looked past Keeley down the boardwalk, but Hannah was out of sight. “Shouldn’t one of us go to talk to her? Straighten this out?”
“No. Zo and I do need to sit down with her, but not while she’s like this. Let her cool off. I need to cool off. In fact, I need a drink. You do, too. We all do. Hannah told me we should have fun, among all that BS she was spouting, and that was the only thing she said that made any sense. Come on, Pamster, let’s go play some Kamikaze.” Keeley tilted her head at the house and made a let’s-go gesture with her hand.
Pam felt discombobulated. She didn’t want a drink. What she wanted was a cup of coffee. Her head was spinning. “You’re not going to tell me what happened?”
“How can I? I don’t know either!” Keeley said with a wry laugh as she started past Pam, touching her arm as she passed. “Come on, let’s go play. Enough drama.”
Pam turned around and followed Keeley back into the house feeling as confused as ever, getting the coffee perking on the stove before sitting down to play cards. She wondered if she should have insisted on hearing the whole thing, but at the same time she knew Keeley wouldn’t budge. That was just how she dealt with anything negative: she killed it with sunshine and movement.
This time, though, no matter how bright and cheerful Keeley was, the afternoon’s mood had grown dark and the game never took on its usual ramped-up competitiveness and hilarity. Instead Amy looked worried, Zo looked angry and would barely speak while they played, and Pam never felt fully “there”, even after three cups of coffee. Only Keeley was twittering along like a bird, not a care in the world, while Hannah stewed in their little house at the tip of the island, alone.
Chapter 52
Hannah paced back and forth between the kitchen and the living area of the Barefooter house. It was such a small space, it only took nine strides of her long legs to complete the u-shaped path from the back of the kitchen, through the door the connected the two rooms, and the short length of the living-slash-sleeping space. The house had seemed larger when she was little, just right for her and her mother when they were spending all their summers there. Now she saw what a tiny shack it really was. It was amazing how many people could fit in it when the Barefooters held their parties.
The blistering dangerous anger that had gripped her only thirty minutes a
go was gone, and in its place was the open raw wound of what she had said, one infected with both grief and guilt. It was out. Keeley’s shocked face wouldn’t leave her mind’s eye. Intellectually, she had known that her mother didn’t remember her periodic disappearances all those years ago, leaving her child alone in their house in Fairfield. But her heart didn’t believe it. There had to be some glimmer of recognition, some understanding of her crime as a parent.
Hannah flung herself down on the couch and lay there. The tears had receded. She hurt drily, pain without outlet.
It was her fault she was miserable now. Her greedy heart’s fault. She could be back at Aunt Pam’s, laughing and watching the antics of her Barefooter mothers. They weren’t perfect people. Her mother had failed her all those years ago. Keeley probably didn’t love her as much as Hannah wanted her to. But if there was anything she had learned over the last three weeks on the island, surrounded by the evidence, it was that she had been loved. Was loved. Why couldn’t that be enough? Why couldn’t she just forgive and be grateful? Now she couldn’t go back, not until tomorrow. Even then, how would it be?
The cold air was pushing through her sweater and jeans, her breath puffing in front of her face in little dissipating clouds. She hadn’t taken a jacket; she didn’t take anything with her in her flight. She got up, went to the trunk in the corner that held the blankets and the old cotton hammock they used to sleep on. She wrapped a blanket around herself and put the others on the end of the couch for that night.
At least she wasn’t hungry, wouldn’t be for hours. She sat back down on the couch, thinking of the four of them at Pam’s. Were they playing Uno? Did her godmothers know about the argument? About what she had said? Her mind returned to her mother’s reaction, the utter innocence of her shock and what it implied.
