by Rick Hautala
After John and Barry got the figures they needed, they drove back to the office. Barry insisted on listening to the radio to see if any reports mentioned the find at the site. But even during the drive home after work that evening, John hadn’t heard anything about the discovery of bones, human or otherwise, on Glooscap Island that afternoon.
When he got home, he complained to Julia about a splitting headache, but he had one more unpleasant surprise to cap off a perfectly awful day. He went up to the attic to get the dead rat and found, instead, that the trap had been pulled to the limit of its anchor chain. Still clenched in the jaws of the trap was the rat’s shredded hind leg, but the rat was nowhere to be found. He realized immediately what had happened. It had chewed off its own leg to get away. Judging by the streak of crusted blood on the floor, it had crawled over to the eaves. No doubt it would die of its wounds, and no doubt the family would soon smell the dead rat as it rotted somewhere inside the walls.
Just fucking great, John thought as he went back downstairs to find the Tylenol.
THIRTEEN
Fish Bait
I
“What’s the matter?”
Coming out of the darkness, the voice made John sit up quickly and spin around. Air caught in his throat with an audible click.
“Nothing,” he said when he saw Julia standing in the living room doorway.
“Something’s gotta be the matter,” she said, coming around the edge of the couch and sitting down beside him. “It’s almost three o’clock in the morning. Most people don’t sit up at this hour unless something’s bothering them.” She put her hand on his knee and gave it a squeeze, but he pulled away from her.
Outside the picture window, the steady flashing of the lighthouse drew their attention. John was unnaturally stiff as she wound her arm around his neck and snuggled up to him.
“Is what happened out at the site today getting to you?”
Both the six o’clock and eleven o’clock news had covered the discovery of bones at the Surfside Ledges condo site. Although neither report had specified whether or not they were actually human bones, the implication based on the caginess of the state trooper they interviewed was that they were human. The trooper’s final comment had been, “We haven’t ruled out anything yet.”
John took a breath and shook his head. When he shifted uneasily on the couch, Julia noticed a soft crinkling sound, like crumpling paper. She almost said something but then thought better of it. He was upset about his work or maybe …
“Are you nervous about going out with Randy today?”
“Not really,” John answered, his voice sounding distant and hollow.
Yesterday afternoon, Randy had called to confirm that John was coming out lobstering with him in the morning. After supper — against his will — John had called back and agreed. He wasn’t sure why … maybe just to get it over with so Julia would stop nagging him about it.
“Everything at work’s going okay?” Julia said. “I mean, other than those guys finding those bones.”
“Sure,” John said, nodding stiffly. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“So why are you sitting here at three o’clock staring out the front window?”
John looked at her, and even though she couldn’t see his face clearly, she knew that he was angry.
“I’ve got a lot on my mind, if that’s all right with you.” He shifted forward and almost stood up, but then he sank back down onto the couch, his chest heaving shallowly.
“John … Honey …” Julia took his hand and squeezed it. “If something’s the matter, you can tell me.”
“Nothing’s the matter.”
This time he did stand up, and as he did, Julia heard the crinkling sound of paper again coming from under the cushion John had been sitting on. He was a black silhouette as he strode over to the window and, clasping his hands behind his back, stared out at the black expanse of night and ocean.
Julia remained on the couch, but then, when she shifted to stand up, she tried to make the motion appear natural and uninterrupted as she slid her hand under the cushion. Her fingers brushed against a sheet of paper, which she pulled out, quickly rolled into a ball, and palmed before walking over to John.
“It’ll be good for you,” she said, carefully keeping the hand holding the piece of paper away from him. She was burning to know what if anything was on it, and not being able to read it immediately convinced her all the more that it was connected with John’s agitation.
He looked at her over his shoulder and laughed shallowly.
“Yeah … Sure. Go out there on a freezing cold morning, in the predawn, for God’s sake. Get myself soaked and freeze my ass off … probably get frigging sick again, too, to watch Randy haul up his traps. What a great time it’ll be.”
“Yeah, but the fresh air will be good —”
“If it’s so goddamned good, why don’t you go instead? I’ll stay home where it’s nice and warm and dry, and you can freeze your ass off.”
“Randy didn’t invite me,” Julia said. “Besides —”
“You think this’ll be a good chance for me and Randy to reconnect, huh?” He snorted and shook his head disgustedly. “Big fucking deal.”
“Well …”
“Wait a minute!” John snapped his fingers, his hostility flashing like summer lightning in his eyes. “I know what.” He slapped his hands together, making a loud crack. “We’ll both go. Randy won’t mind one more passenger.”
“John, I don’t think —”
“No.” He held up his hand to stop any more protest. “No argument. You’re coming.”
“John …”
“If you don’t go, I don’t go. In a while, once I’m sure he’s awake, I’ll give him a call and ask. Even better. We’ll see if Ellie can come along so we can make it a regular party. Agreed?”
Julia shifted her eyes away from her husband and back out into the predawn darkness. She was earnestly wishing she had stayed in bed, left him alone in the darkness downstairs and not seen him until he came back from lobstering. Also, she was burning to know what if anything was written on that piece of paper. She couldn’t help but wonder if it, rather than work, was why John was acting so strange.
Julia clenched her fists, then cringed when the paper made a crinkling sound. John seemed not to notice because he was pacing back and forth, getting more and more excited by his idea.
“You’ve been telling me what a great thing this will be,” he said, practically laughing. “Well … here’s your chance to experience life on the open ocean.”
Julia was silent for a lengthening moment as she considered the corner he had neatly backed her into. Finally, she grunted her agreement.
“Yeah … Okay. I’ll go as long as you can convince Ellie to go.” Her fist hiding the piece of paper tightened. “You’re supposed to be down at the wharf by four-thirty, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You’ve got a deal. I’ll put on a pot of coffee, splash some water on my face, and whip up some breakfast. By the time we’re done, you can give Randy a call and see if it’s all right.”
“Fine,” John said. “You might want to put together a few sandwiches, too. I have no idea how long we’ll be out.” He turned and headed for the stairs. “I’m gonna take a quick shower to wake up, although it’s after we’ve been on the boat that we’ll both need to be hosed down.”
Julia was happy John was heading upstairs because it would give her time to read what was on the paper and replace it before he noticed it was missing … if he even knew it was there in the first place. What bothered her most was thinking there was something he was hiding from her. She had always assumed they had an open, honest relationship. If what she was clenching in her hand was very serious …
Well, she would have to see what if anything was on the piece of paper before she jumped to conclusions.
She waited in the kitchen, practically shaking with apprehension until she heard the sound of running water from u
pstairs. Her fingers were trembling as she unfolded the single sheet of notebook paper and saw what was written there. In strong, bold pencil lines, someone — it didn’t look like John’s handwriting. It looked more like a child’s — were the words:
I WON’T FORGET WHAT…
That was it.
Julia frowned as she turned the paper over, expecting to see more, but the back side of the lined notebook paper was blank except for the reverse impression of the heavy pencil marks.
That’s it? … That’s what’s bothering him?
She turned the sheet over and looked at it again.
What’s the big deal?
“I won’t forget what …”
From upstairs, she heard the sound of running water shut off, so with one last glance at the notebook paper, she refolded it and dashed into the living room. After sliding the note back under the couch cushion, she went into the downstairs bathroom to splash some water on her face.
As she put together breakfast, she kept turning over in her mind the words on the piece of paper. She had no idea what it meant or if this note was what had upset John in the first place.
It might be something else, like those bones they had found at the construction site … or perhaps he wasn’t getting along with someone at work or maybe it was something she didn’t have a hint of, like he was having an affair.
Impossible, she thought, even as a tingling chill danced between her shoulder blades.
But what if it was something like that? … What if he and … how about that girl he had dated in high school? …Abby? … What if they had gotten back together?
“Naw,” she said, shaking her head as she scrambled a batch of eggs with a whisk in a bowl.
Both he and Randy had said that Abby wasn’t living on the island anymore. No one had seen her since high school. Besides, John wouldn’t … he couldn’t be having an affair with her or anyone else. It wasn’t his style. It simply wasn’t in his nature. She knew him that well, at least.
Or maybe she didn’t …
Seconds later, the heavy clumping of John’s feet sounded on the stairs. After a quick detour into the living room —
For what? Julia wondered. To see if that note was still under the cushion?
— he walked into the kitchen as she was stirring eggs in the pan with the spatula. Leaning over the stove, he inhaled and smiled with satisfaction. Then he walked over to the wastebasket and dropped something —
What was that? Julia wondered, the sheet of crumpled-up notebook paper? … Is he in some kind of trouble … something he can’t talk to me about?
— into the trash, jamming it down to bury it under the broken eggshells and empty orange juice carton.
“I — umm,” Julia said. She had been about to ask him about the note but decided not to and concentrated on not letting the eggs burn.
“Yeah?” John said, about to pull out a chair and sit down.
“Would you out some dishes and silverware?”
“Sure thing,” John got the table set while Julia scooped out the eggs, buttered the toast, and brought everything over to the table.
But in the back of her mind all she could think was there was a problem here … a possibly serious problem because John was definitely hiding something from her. The only clue was that stupid cryptic note.
I won’t forget what …
Who won’t forget?… Forget what?…Did John write it?… Or someone else?… Maybe Bri? … What the hell was going on?
Like a worm tunneling through an apple, the tiny doubt that John was hiding something from her could get serious, she knew. How it could get serious, she didn’t dare guess, but like they said about one bad apple spoiling the whole barrel, one little secret between a husband and his wife could gain strength until, like an atomic chain reaction, it reached critical mass.
All she knew, as she and John sat down to eat, was that before they left to meet Randy and Ellie at the wharf, she was going to have to find out if the paper was still under the couch cushion or if that’s what John had thrown away.
Either way, she didn’t like the possibilities.
II
At the wharf, Randy and Ellie, both dressed as warmly as John and Julia, stood waiting for them at the head of a ladder leading down to a float where a small dinghy was moored. Randy directed John to the parking area by the boat yard and then climbed down to the float and busied himself with untying the small boat from the dock. Ellie waited on the wharf with Julia, a tight smile on her face. It was obvious she had had other — and better — things to do this morning.
“Mornin’ to yah,” Randy said, glancing over his shoulder as he tossed the mooring line into the boat and, kneeling, held on to the gunwales.
John was about to ask him to spare the “old salt” routine, but he kept his quiet as he stepped back for Julia and Ellie to climb down the ladder to the floating dock.
“You ever been out lobstering?” Julia asked Ellie once they were on the float.
Biting her lower lip, Ellie shook her head.
“Not since we got married, years ago. I’m not nuts about the ocean.” She spoke softly, but her voice carried in the early morning silence and echoed from the granite pier. “I took some Dramamine so I won’t get seasick.” She chuckled softly, glancing at her husband. “I’m a landlubber.”
“I am, too,” Julia said, wondering if she should take something for seasickness, too.
Pausing to look around, she was surprised by the contrast between the wharf area now and what it had been like the morning she and Frank had spent with Frenchie. Then, with the sunlight and brisk breeze, and boats putting into the cove and pickup trucks rattling on the dirt road, it had seemed an active, though certainly not thriving, workplace. With the sun not yet up, the sea gently lapping the underside of the float, and the air heavy with the smell of rotting fish and low-tide mud flats, it all seemed so lonely … and depressing.
Inside the stone well of the harbor, distant sounds were oddly muffled while the noise they made — even walking across the parking lot — was unnaturally magnified. Riding easily at their moorings in the predawn gloom, the lobster boats that had, in the daytime, looked so brightly painted and seaworthy now looked worn and beaten. Their thin layers of paint were flaking off like —
Like flesh off a skull, Julia thought with a shiver, surprised by such gruesome imagery.
Where did that come from?
She took a deep breath to steady herself and held her arms out for balance as the dock gently bobbed in the water.
“This sure ain’t gonna be what I planned,” Randy said, smiling as he glanced from his wife to Julia.
Julia started to say something, but when she shifted her weight forward, the dock began to rock harder. She braced her feet and held her arms out wider for balance. Once she was confident she wasn’t going to pitch over the side and into the harbor, she cautiously approached the dinghy.
“If there isn’t enough room, Ellie and I don’t have to go,” Julia said. She could feel John behind her, glaring at her back for even suggesting that they stay behind.
“Oh, no … no problem,” Randy said. “I only brought oilskins for me ‘n John, but you ladies probably won’t want to bait and haul, anyways. Plenty of room up front.”
If the smell of rotting fish had anything to do with the job at hand, Julia didn’t want to consider working. She wrinkled her nose at the thought.
“This is going to be a pleasure ride for us ladies,” she said. “You men can do all the hard work.”
“Thanks tons,” John said as he walked confidently on the dock to the dinghy.
“I’m all baited up ‘n’ ready, so let’s get a move on,” Randy said. “Watch it when you step into the punt. It’s none too stable.”
Julia placed her hand on his shoulder as she stepped over the gunwales into the little boat. She banged one of the oars with her knee and, when she tried to regain her balance, set the boat to rocking wildly. This time she knew she coul
d pitch overboard, so she made a quick grab for the rails. Steadying herself, and with Randy adding his muscle to it, the boat quickly stabilized.
“Where do you want me to sit?” she asked, scanning the grungy floor of the boat. There were empty beer bottles, lengths of frayed rope, and assorted rusty tools scattered about and floating in the bilge water.
“The bow or the stern,” Randy said. “Just watch out for that barrel there.”
“Not exactly luxury, is it’?” Ellie said, wrinkling her nose.
Crouching low, Julia moved cautiously toward the front of the boat. When she stepped past the barrel Randy had indicated, she glanced inside and immediately wished she hadn’t. Her stomach did a quick flip, and her breakfast almost made a hasty exit. The barrel was full of fish heads and tails connected only by their saw-toothed spines, and emitted the overpowering stench of rotten fish. She tried not to let it get to her. Otherwise, she’d be hanging over the side of the boat, emptying her stomach.
John waited until Julia and Ellie were settled in the prow before he got in and seated himself in the stern. He sat stiffly with his hands on his knees and inhaled deeply.
Randy obviously hadn’t even tried to keep up appearances with this boat. It had last seen a paintbrush five or six years ago. Dirty bilge water sloshed back and forth on the floor as their weight shifted back and forth, and all Julia could wonder was if the boat would fill up and sink before they made it out to the mooring.
Once his passengers were settled, Randy pushed off, leaped into the punt, unshipped the oars, and started rowing. Julia watched his back bend and his shoulders hunch as he pulled, strong and steady, on the oars. It seemed as though he had eyes in the back of his head because he threaded his way between the mass of moored boats apparently without looking. She glanced back at the receding dock and wondered why she had let John bully her into coming. The strong smell of bait and the rocking motion of the boat were doing one hell of a number on her stomach. She considered asking Ellie if she happened to have some Dramamine but decided to tough it out … if she could.
