Speaking of sheds. I talked to Ursula. She told me she hadn’t experimented with any of her new powers since that day at the bridge. I think that suits Dominic just fine. Frankly, I think her newfound powers scare him. Probably should. It scares me to think of the things she can do but doesn’t yet know it. Seems to me if she sneezes and farts at the same time, she could start World War III.
But I digress. I wanted to tell you how my life had changed after that day on the bridge. Immediately afterward, I mean after we went to the Perc and ate meatballs until we were seeing them in our dreams, immediately after that, I felt a sense of excitement, an exuberance I hadn’t known in years. It lasted all of twenty four hours, until the sadness rolled in again.
I found myself, once more, despondent, heartsick and lost. I started going back to that one place where I could be alone with my thoughts, back to shores where ancient spirits of the sea welcome me without prejudice. Back where my heart can beat in rhythm to the empty drum that is my lonely, wretched soul. Back to Gloucester Beach.
It was after six o`clock. The tide had gone out and was on its way back in. A pale moon rode the waves on the horizon, awaiting a chance to steal the night.
It had been ten days straight this time. Ten days, ten nights that I’d come to my jetty to watch the waves. The tides they vary, but only in time. The show is always the same. Always satisfying.
I named the Jonah crab, did I mention that? I call him Jerome. Cheeky, I know. He still scurries ahead of the waves just before they break on the rocks. It’s a game he always wins. At least I think it’s him. I’ve come to realize he has at least one look-a-like, a brother, I think. I call him Paul, you know, like the walrus?
So, there I was last night at the beach, on my jetty, watching the waves and feeling as one with the spirits. Carlos and Dominic had tried calling me, several times. I never answered. I figured they were worried about me because earlier in the day I had left my front door wide open. I don’t usually do that, but a squirrel snuck in when I went out to get the mail. I didn’t want to lock him in the house all day, and possibly all night, so I left the door open.
Anyway, as I said, the tide was on its way back in. Jerome the Jonah crab had made his last appearance of the evening and the sunset show was nearly over. I started picking up my things when I heard the unmistakable sloshing of legs through the knee-high surf.
It was Carlos. I was sure of it. I could smell his cologne. I felt sorry then that I hadn’t answered his last call. After all, he was only expressing concern for me.
I figured what the hell, I’d make it up to him. Maybe buy him a drink at the old Crab Trap on the beach. We could make fun of the barkeep and laugh about how much he looked like Tiny.
I waited until I heard him climbing the rocks, huffing and puffing like the old man he is. It was cruel, I know, seeing I was just about to climb down myself. But he was invading my space, not the other way around.
“Sorry I didn’t answer your call,” I said. I didn’t turn around to look at him because I didn’t want to laugh. I mean I do have a heart. “But you could have left a message, you know.”
“I would have,” he said, “but I didn’t have a phone.”
“Oh, my god!”
I looked back over my shoulder. He was just a silhouette against the setting sun, no details, no features but for his broad shoulders, his wide stance and his strong hands planted on his hips.
I stood to face him, still blinded by the sun. I could feel the wind at my back, pushing me toward him. The spirits were guiding me. My eyes pooled with sea mist, so I told myself. I caught my breath, which until then I hadn’t realized I lost.
And then it escaped me, the one word I thought would never part my lips again.
“Tony?”
# # #
Dana Donovan grew up in New England where folklore and superstitions can mold a town’s history as much as its people. He exploits that phenomenon in all his books, perpetuating the enigma of small town life and the belief in all that dies is not dead.
For news and updates on new releases, follow Dana E. Donovan on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Dana.E.Donovan
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