by Alan Marble
He still felt some strange lingering doubts about returning to Florida, about trying to settle back into his life. Even if the police had cleared him of all wrongdoing, there was still the violent memory of Sam’s murder, there was still the memory of being attacked in his own apartment and the place being wrecked. He did not know if he could ever return to those places and feel safe, if he could ever feel whole there again.
If there were any other options, however, he could not think of any.
After only a few moments alone he heard footsteps behind him again, and wondered if Abe had decided to rejoin him when he heard a much softer, more pleasant sort of voice behind him. “Jonah. I haven’t thanked you yet,” Rebekah said quietly, meekly.
Jonah did not turn to look at her right away. He felt a strange lump forming in his neck, and was hesitant to turn and meet her gaze, afraid of what she might say, afraid of what he might see in her eyes. “That’s ok,” he croaked softly. “I was just … helping out the best I know how.”
The pregnant silence seemed to sully the beauty of the night, but he remained fixed on the view of the moon against the water, waiting in silence for her to speak up again. “No, Jonah. What you did for me back there was … well, you have no idea what it was like, being under that spell. Seeing everything like it were through someone else’s eyes, feeling someone else’s emotions, needs, and desires. It wasn’t like I was being controlled, it was like I wanted to do those things. It’s … frightening, to think back on it. I’m sorry.”
“It’s ok,” he repeated, shrugging his shoulders a little lamely. “Like I said, I was just doing what I could to help out.”
“Thank you,” she repeated again, more softly.
Turning his head fractionally, just enough to see the dance of moonlight against her face, he nodded. “You’re welcome, then.”
Another long, uncomfortable silence passed, and Jonah once more turned his gaze out to sea, resting against the handrail. He half expected her to head back inside, but out of the corner of his eye he saw her step up to the railing as well, resting her hands there and looking out in the same direction. “It’s peaceful, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” he agreed, mumbling.
She didn’t seem to be put off by his recalcitrance, just nodding as she stood there. “I grew up near here, actually. On one of the islands up north of here. Quiet, beautiful … I miss it in a lot of ways. It’s changed so much though, you’d hardly recognize the place anymore …”
He realized she was trying to make small talk, and that fact made his stomach start to flutter. She’d warmed up to him once since that awkward stay in the motel and he’d managed to foul things up once before; he feared that one slip of the tongue would result in the same. “What are you going to do, now?”
Turning to look at him curiously, she blinked. “What do you mean?”
Jonah shrugged. “You don’t have to look after me anymore, so what are you going to do with all of your free time?”
“Oh,” she replied, nodding with a faint smile. “Well, I’ll just settle down and relax for a while, I suppose. Get back to my line of work.”
“What do you do?” He turned again to look at her, slightly curious.
Shaking her head, she laughed softly. “Oh, you’ll never believe it. I make wind chimes. Sell them online. It’s not a lot of money but it’s fun, and people seem to enjoy them, too, so, it works out.”
“Wind chimes? Really?”
“Really,” she said, nodding. “I can show you the website later if you want.”
“Sure,” he responded, managing a brief smile before he felt the awkward silence creeping up on him once more. Casting his gaze back out to sea, he felt his grip clenching on the handrail a little tighter than was necessary; his heart fluttered in his chest again as he tried to think of something else to say, something useful, something that he would not regret saying later.
He was half afraid that he’d take too long, that she’d get bored of the silence and retreat inside with the others again, but she was the one who actually spoke up first. “There’s something else I wanted to tell you, Jonah.”
Swallowing down a breath, he turned slightly to look at her over his shoulder again, his eyes widening some. “Yeah?”
“Seafood.”
It was neither what he hoped nor feared to hear, and in fact it caught him completely off guard. He was so confused by her response that it served to disarm him, make him feel suddenly less nervous about what it was she was going to say, about what was going to happen, and he just blinked at her oddly. “Seafood?”
“Something you said. Or, at least, something that I think you said. I can’t remember clearly,” she said, furrowing her eyebrows as she seemed to be thinking. “My favorite food. It’s seafood.”
He remembered. It was one of the things he had uttered to her while he was trying to get her to break out of the spell, trying to get her to remember who she was, who he was. He had pleaded for her, said he wanted to get to know her. Wanted to know her favorite foods.
She remembered, too, it seemed, and he couldn’t help but to blush a little, hidden in the moonlight. After a brief pause the ferry shifted as it rounded a corner, the lights of Seattle coming in to view from across the sound. Shifting his own weight with the boat, feeling his hand slide against the handrail and nudge up against her own, he tore his eyes away from the sight of the glimmering city and gazed at her with a little smile, letting his hand slip lightly over hers.
“I hear Seattle’s got some great seafood.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Long a fan of all things sci-fi and fantasy, Alan finds time between work in the IT field and work in the domestic field to share that love with others through writing. When he’s not dreaming up his next tale or getting his nose stuck in a great novel, you might find him indulging in a few interests such as astronomy, travel or good food.
