Evercrossed kbaa-4

by Элизабет Чандлер

  ʺI heard about you,ʺ Will said, ʺfrom Kelsey and Dhanya. Funny thing, Ivy didnʹt mention you at all.ʺ Guy looked from Will to Ivy, then back again. ʺAnd nobody seems to be missing you,ʺ Will went on. ʺI wonder why a nice guy like you hasnʹt been reported missing by friends or family.ʺ

  Guy nodded calmly. ʺIt would make you think theyʹre glad to be rid of me.ʺ

  ʺIt hasnʹt been that long,ʺ Ivy said quickly. ʺJust since Sunday — a week. Maybe your friends and family think youʹre away on a trip and they havenʹt been expecting to see or hear from you.ʺ

  Will turned to Ivy with a look that said, Youʹre crazy to buy this story.

  Guy gave her a sardonic smile. ʺHow did you get to the hospital?ʺ Will asked Guy. ʺSome people walking a dog found me unconscious and called an ambulance.ʺ

  ʺFound you where?ʺ

  ʺLighthouse Beach,ʺ Guy replied.

  ʺIn Chatham? Last Sunday, in Chatham?ʺ

  ʺMonday, really,ʺ Guy corrected him. ʺJust after midnight.

  ʺMust have been one helluva busy night for the EMS!ʺ

  Guy frowned. ʺWhat do you mean?ʺ

  ʺI sure hope you didnʹt meet up with another car on Morris Island/ʹ

  ʺWill!ʺ Ivy said, recognizing the accusation behind his statement. ʺThatʹs ridiculous! They never found the car that hit us.ʺ

  ʺAnd they never found out who this guy is,ʺ Will responded, ʺor why he canʹt remember anything, and why he was lying unconscious a short distance from where your car was totaled.ʺ Will paced the room, then stopped and turned toward Guy. ʺIʹm sure you have a good reason for leaving the hospital wearing Ivyʹs shirt. I’d think it would be a little small for you.ʺ

  ʺIt was,ʺ Guy said. Ivy recounted the situation seeing that with each detail she gave. Will was growing angrier. ʺLet me get this straight,ʺ Will said incredulously. ʺYou helped him sneak out of the hospital before he was released by his doctor — probably still needing medical attention, and before, of course, he paid any bills.ʺ

  ʺI followed my instinct,ʺ Ivy replied, feeling defensive. ʺI took a chance on another person. Maybe you should try it sometime!ʺ She saw the hurt on Willʹs face. Guy leaned forward slightly, catching her attention. ʺYou said the laundry room was off the kitchen?ʺ

  ʺYes.ʺ He nodded and headed out the door. ʺWill — Will, Iʹm sorry,ʺ Ivy said. ʺI see how upset you are. I just… felt so bad for him.ʺ Will swallowed hard.

  ʺYou remember how terrible it was for me last summer, when I couldnʹt remember things — when everyone else thought Iʹd tried to kill myself, when I couldnʹt explain how Iʹd gotten to the train station. You were so good to me. You believed in me when nobody else did. You took care of me. Guy has no one to believe in or care for him.ʺ

  ʺThe difference is,ʺ Will said quietly, ʺI already knew you. I knew the kind of person you were.ʺ Ivy nodded. ʺYes, yes, youʹve got a point. I admit… I acted irrationally.ʺ She didnʹt add that, given the chance, sheʹd do it again.

  Will walked over and sat on the sofa next to Ivy. He put his arms around her, pulling her close to him. ʺSometimes, Ivy, you scare the hell out of me.ʺ

  Twelve

  ʺDO YOU THINK GUY WILL COME BACK?ʺ BETH ASKED, a half hour later as she and Ivy walked through the fruit trees along the path to the innʹs parking lot.

  ʺI donʹt know.ʺ Ivy looked over her shoulder at the cottage swing, where she had left Guyʹs backpack. After exchanging apologies with Will, she had checked the laundry room. Guy, his money, the angel coin, and all his wet clothes had disappeared. The red towel had been left on the washer, and the backpack in the cottage.

  ʺHeʹs staying at Nickerson State Park, which is a long walk from here,ʺ Ivy told Beth.

  ʺWe could take his pack and bedroll to the visitorsʹ center. Maybe they have a lost and found.ʺ

  Ivy shook her head. ʺGuyʹs not the kind to check it out He pretty much stays out of sight.ʺ Bern looked at Ivy sharply. ʺWhy?ʺ

  ʺJust does.ʺ Beth frowned, but she didnʹt say anything more. Ivy was sure that Will had told Beth about his meeting with Guy. Beth had relayed to Ivy Willʹs excuse for not joining them in Provincetown, claiming he was anxious to work with his new watercolor paper. But Ivy knew how much Will had wanted to see the town, an artistsʹ haven. Despite the apologies, he was still upset.

  The hour‐long ride to the end of the Cape was uncomfortably quiet. Ivy changed CDs several times, as if she could find the right music to regain the easy connection she usually felt with Beth, and was glad when they finally pulled into a parking space.

  Provincetown was as colorful and quirky as advertised. Ivy and Beth strolled in and out of the small shops and galleries that crowded its narrow streets. On the surface it seemed as if things were returning to normal between them, as they pointed out to each other the paintings they liked, the odd pieces of sculpture, and handcrafted jewelry made of mystical sea glass. At about five thirty Ivy and Beth bought two raspberry iced teas and carried them to the breakwater at the end of town. Its black boulders, flat on top, stretched a mile across Provincetown Harbor, making a rocky footpath to Long Point beach on the curling fingertip of Cape Cod. Just beyond halfway, the point at which most walkers turned back, they sat down on a smooth rock. Behind them were the crescent of Provincetownʹs low buildings and the tall needle of Pilgrim Monument. Ahead were the lighthouses of Wood End and Long Point.

  Ivy played with her straw, then dove into the conversation she felt they couldnʹt avoid any longer. ʺI guess Will told you about the fight.ʺ Beth glanced sideways at her. ʺYeah.ʺ

  ʺI was surprised at Will, the way he acted toward Guy.ʺ

  ʺHow did you expect him to act?ʺ Beth asked. Ivy heard the prickliness in her friendʹs voice. ʺUnderstanding. Guyʹs in a really bad situation.ʺ Beth didnʹt reply.

  ʺHe doesnʹt know who he is or where he belongs. He tries not to show it but heʹs scared. You can understand that, canʹt you?ʺ After a moment, Beth nodded.

  ʺGuy has no idea what happened to him. Beth, I need a favor. Would you use your psychic gift like you did last year for me, and touch the clothes Guy was wearing when he was found, to see if you could access clues about what happened? Would you help him?ʺ

  ʺHelp him?ʺ She sounded angry — disdainful— not like Beth. ʺYes, him. Beth, you canʹt automatically adopt Willʹs view of others.ʺ

  ʺ1 donʹt,ʺ she snapped.

  ʺIʹm sorry,ʺ Ivy replied, ʺbut in this case, you are blindly accepting what Will says. How can you judge Guy? You havenʹt even met him.ʺ

  ʺHow can you trust Guy?ʺ Beth countered. ʺYou donʹt even know his name.ʺ

  ʺBut I know his. . heart,ʺ Ivy said. ʺIʹm not psychic like you, but I can sense the goodness in him.ʺ

  ʺWill told me that you helped Guy sneak out of the hospital — skip out without paying bills, and worse, leave without understanding why he was there. Ivy, he was in a violent fight — Will saw his bruises and the cut along his throat.ʺ Ivy looked away.

  ʺFor all you know,ʺ Beth continued, ʺGuy could have killed somebody.ʺ

  ʺWhat?!ʺ

  ʺIvy, this isnʹt like you,ʺ Beth said, ʺto turn your back on Will—ʺ

  ʺIʹm not turning my back on him!ʺ

  ʺ—and take up with some guy who is obviously using you. I don’t know what is going on, but you havenʹt been yourself since the accidentʺ

  Ivy turned to her friend. ʺI could say the same thing about you.” Beth ran her hand along her gold chain with the amethyst and fingered the stone. Letting out a long breath, Ivy gazed at the sea lapping against the breakwater.

  ʺIvy, listen to me,ʺ Beth said, her voice pleading rather than angry now.

  ʺSomething is very wrong. I canʹt shake the feeling that something terrible is about to happen.ʺ ʺLike what?ʺ

  ʺI donʹt know.ʺ Bethʹs voice quivered. ʺBut you must be careful. This is no time to trust strangers.ʺ Ivy laid her hands gently on her friendʹs. ʺI know what Iʹm doing. If s time for you to trust me.”<
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  WHEN THEY ARRIVED HOME, IVY SAW THAT GUYʹS backpack and bedroll were gone. Beth regarded the empty swing with a look of apprehension and peered through the screen door before entering the cottage, as if Guy might be waiting inside.

  Following her in, Ivy was surprised to find Will there, sitting on the sofa, working — the puzzle. ʺHey, Will.ʺ

  ʺHey. Have a good time?ʺ he asked. ʺYeah! The art is awesome,ʺ Ivy replied, hoping to sound upbeat and easy with him. ʺYouʹd love it there.ʺ

  Will studied her, as if trying to tell whether things were ʺrightʺ between them, then said, ʺThereʹs no way you can see it all in one trip, so maybe youʹll want to go a second time with me. How about it?ʺ

  ʺOf course!ʺ Ivy sat in a chair facing the coffee table. ʺAnd this time, with plenty of cash. I saw about ten sets of earrings and an armful of bracelets I liked. I could do all my Christmas shopping there.ʺ She leaned forward and pushed a puzzle piece into place.

  ʺBeth, come sit down,ʺ Will invited. ʺI have an idea I wanted to talk over with both of you.”

  Beth had reached the kitchen and turned back reluctantly. ʺIʹve been thinking about next Sunday,ʺ Will said as Beth perched on the edge of the sofa.

  ʺTristan’s anniversary and how to honor him. They allow bonfires at the National Seashore. And thereʹs a beach called Race Point, which seems right for him. What do you think?”

  Ivy knowing how hard Will was trying, felt tears rising in her. ʺItʹs a great idea.”

  “I was thinking of picking up the permit Tuesday afternoon at the visitorsʹ center.ʺ Will looked hopefully at Ivy. ʺHow about that and dinner in Provincetown?ʺ

  She smiled at him. ʺPerfect.ʺ Beth rose silently and returned to the kitchen. Will turned and gazed after her. ʺBeth, are you okay?ʺ

  ʺFine,ʺ she called back. Ivy leaned close to Will. ʺSomethingʹs really bothering her.ʺ ʺI think itʹs the anniversary,” Will said, reaching for Ivyʹs hand. ʺShe went through a lot with us. You canʹt just erase memories like that. Things will be easier for all of us after the twenty‐fifth.ʺ

  Ivy looked down at her hand resting in Willʹs and nodded silently, wishing she could believe that the way he did.

  Thirteen

  LATE MONDAY MORNING, SPLASHING THROUGH A puddle in the innʹs lot, wondering whether Guy had found shelter during a late‐night storm. Ivy threw a bag with a beach towel and music books into the backseat of the Beetle. ʺHey, just in time!ʺ

  Ivy jumped at the sound of Guyʹs voice. ʺYou sure are easy to sneak up on,ʺ

  Guy observed, emerging from the shrubs surrounding the innʹs parking lot.

  ʺWhat were you thinking about?ʺ

  ʺMusic,ʺ she lied — no point in feeding his ego. ʺIʹm headed to practice.ʺ

  ʺWhat direction is that?ʺ Guy asked. His clothes were damp and wrinkled, his backpack slung over his shoulder. ʺChatham. I use the piano at a village church.ʺ

  ʺCan I get a ride that far?ʺ

  She double clicked her key. ʺDoorʹs open. Whereʹre you going?ʺ she asked, as he stowed his backpack in the rear seat.

  “Lighthouse Beach.ʺ

  ʺHave you remembered something?ʺ

  ʺNo,ʺ he replied. ʺI was hoping I might if I saw the place.ʺ Ivy thought about offering to go with him, but she had come to think of Guy as a cat, a creature who comes to others only when heʹs ready. Guy was wearing his old shoes again.

  As Ivy pulled out of thr lot, she glanced through her rearview mirror at the new shoes, still tied to his pack. ʺDid I get the wrong size?ʺ

  He followed her eyes. ʺYup. But they make a nice souvenir.ʺ

  ʺWe can exchange them for a pair that fit,ʺ she said. ʺWe could, but thatʹs a lot of trouble. And if youʹd like to have them back,ʺ he added with a sly smile,ʺ I have a hunch theyʹll fit Will.ʺ

  ʺIf youʹd come into the store with me,ʺ she replied brusquely, ʺI wouldnʹt have had to guess your size.ʺ They didnʹt speak again till she reached Route 28.

  ʺSo… if you practice music during the summer, you must be pretty serious about it,ʺ he said. 1 am.

  He twisted himself around in his seat to reach the books. His arm brushed hers, his body hovering close in the small car. For a moment Ivy felt dizzy, overwhelmed by a powerful sense of his presence.

  He grabbed a music book and turned forward again in his seat. She was glad he was thumbing through it and didnʹt see her biting her lip, trying to focus on the road.

  ʺSo, what kind of music do you like?ʺ she asked. ʺI mean, other than an off‐key version of ʹIf I Loved You.ʺ He laughed. ʺI donʹt remember, but my favorite band is Providence. No, wait — thatʹs the next town over from the hospital.ʺ

  She laughed with him. ʺWill you play for me?ʺ he asked. The request surprised her. ʺI play mostly classical.ʺ

  ʺDonʹt worry,ʺ he said with a wry smile. ʺI canʹt remember what I like.ʺ

  A few minutes later she parked the car in the church lot ʺI need to get the key from the rectory.ʺ Guy followed her to a small, shingled building that was attached by a covered passageway to the church. Its windows were open and Ivy could hear the doorbell ringing inside. Then Father Johnʹs voice called from behind another building. ʺIn the back!ʺ

  Guy, who was wearing jeans, quickly pulled the cuffs of his sweatshirt down to his wrists. They found the priest in the garden, wearing denim overalls, his hands caked with sandy dirt, his high cheekbones shining with sweat and sun.

  Ivy introduced him to Guy. Father John held up both hands apologetically and gave a slight bow. ʺMy day off,ʺ he explained. ʺYouʹre working awfully hard for that,ʺ Ivy observed. He smiled. ʺA labor of love.ʺ

  Inside a white picket fence was a large vegetable garden. A trench, partially dug along the outside of the fence, had bags of peat and humus piled next to it.

  ʺIʹm putting in roses,ʺ he said, gesturing. ʺOf course, we have the Rugosabeach roses — here on the Cape. Itʹs very foolish of me to be digging holes in the sand and bringing in black soil to grow tea roses.ʺ He shrugged and smiled. Ivy saw Guy relax a little. ʺYouʹre here to play,ʺ the priest guessed, reaching for the set of keys that hung on his belt. ʺWould you bring these back as soon as youʹve opened up?ʺ

  Guy went with Ivy as far as the church door, then offered to return the keys.

  Fifteen minutes later, when he hadnʹt come back to the church. Ivy sighedsudden departures seemed to be Guyʹs favorite way of saying good‐bye. Having finished her exercises, she pushed Guy out of her mind and focused on the new music assigned by her teacher. She worked hard, and her tentative fingering became more certain. Ivy never got over the wonder of feeling a song grow under her hands.

  An hour later, gathering up her music, she heard the church door open. Guy walked toward her, looking pleased with himself. ʺIʹve got a job.ʺ ʺYou do?ʺ

  His face gleamed with perspiration and there was a smear of dirt down the front of his sweat‐shirt He pointed in the direction of the garden, his hand coated with sandy soil. ʺI was helping him out — just for something to do. And he asked if I liked that kind of work. Heʹs going to set me up with one of his parishioners whoʹs looking for summer help.ʺ

  ʺGreat! He didnʹt care if you had references?ʺ

  ʺI made up a name and cell phone number/ʹ Guy replied.

  ʺWhat?ʺ

  ʺWith a little luck, the man wonʹt bother to check.ʺ

  ʺIt’s just that—ʺ Ivy didnʹt finish her statement. The bruise on Guyʹs face had faded beneath his tan and was barely noticeable. It was a breezy morning, and it may not have seemed odd to the priest that Guy hadnʹt removed his sweatshirt or rolled up his sleeves to work.

  ʺYou donʹt trust me/ʹ he said. ʺWill has been filling your head with doubts—ʺ

  Ivy felt defensive of Will. ʺDonʹt blame him. Iʹm quite capable of doubting on my own.ʺ Guyʹs eyes met hers, then he threw back his head and laughed. ʺYouʹre so honest!ʺ He sat down in a pew, draping his arms across the back of the bench.

 
ʺPlay something for me. I have a strong feeling Iʹm not a classy guy and will be easy to impress.ʺ

  ʺThe song you were humming was from a musical. 1 have a pile of Broadway songs home in Connecticut.ʺ She flipped through the books she had brought, looking for something light and melodic. ʺA guy I loved once liked musicals.ʺ

  ʺYou donʹt love him anymore?ʺ Ivy met Guyʹs eyes. ʺNo, I still do. I always will.ʺ

  ʺHe dumped you,ʺ Guy guessed. ʺHe died.ʺ Guy dropped his arms from the back of the church bench. ʺIʹm sorry — I didnʹt realize. . How?ʺ he asked gently.

  ʺHe was murdered.ʺ Guy rose to his feet. ʺJesus Christ!ʺ Ivy took a deep breath.

  ʺIs that a prayer? Youʹre in the right place.ʺ Guy continued to stare at her, and she made herself busy looking for music. ʺThisʹll work— Brahms.ʺ She began to play.

  Guy circled the piano, still staring at her, his hands in his pockets, then he strolled down the side aisle. He stopped at each stained glass window and seemed to study it.

  Was he reading the images or peering through them. Ivy wondered; was he seeing the present or catching glimpses of the past? More than ever, her past with Tristan seemed to intrude into her everyday life.

  Focus on the present, she told herself, and glanced toward Guy. Focus on someone who needs your help now. Maybe the music would relax his mind and allow him to recall bits of what he was repressing.

  She finished Brahms, and continued with music she knew by heart: the first movement of Beethovenʹs Piano Sonata, Number 14. By the final measures Guy was standing behind her.

  ʺYouʹre playing from memory,ʺ he said as the last note faded. Ivy nodded.

  ʺI canʹt remember my own name,ʺ he observed, ʺbut you can play an entire song from memory.ʺ

  Ivy swallowed hard. Better to have the pain in her heart forever than to lose her memory of Tristan — Guy had taught her that much. ʺIt’ s a song you love, or maybe one he loved.” Guy guessed.

  Ivy closed the piano and gathered up her pieces of music. ʺYes.ʺ

  ʹʺMoonlight Sonata.ʺ Guy said. ʺThe first part of Beethovenʹs Sonata Fourteen.ʺ