Mackenna on the Edge

by Djuna Shellam

  No matter how she tried to rationalize it, she came to the same conclusion over and over and over again. She had overreacted. Alice did tell her—she just didn’t hear her. If she hadn’t been so selfish and self-absorbed she would have seen that Alice was trying to save them. Wasn’t she? And maybe if she hadn’t driven Alice so far away would she have come back to her sooner? What would their lives be like today?

  Regret. Angst. Self-loathing. Gut-wrenching pain. Falling… down… down… down into the lower depths of despair. Mackenna reeled from the revelations of Alice’s diary and the subsequent releasing of buried pain. The fragile ledge that she had been teetering on for so many months was crumbling beneath her, only now she had not the slightest desire to scramble to safety. Feeling so desperately sad and bereft she allowed the inner turmoil to simply swallow her whole without a fight. No struggle. Complete surrender. Her emotions and mental state were in complete ruins.

  As if the wounds were freshly inflicted, she sobbed. She wailed. She keened with the howling wind, though oblivious to anything around her but her own treacherous agony—not sight, sound, or environment. Her present world had all but disappeared. In every way conceivable, so had the world she had created for herself for the last seventeen years.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Feeding the Fishes

  Drenched to the bone and completely exposed to the elements, Eve clenched her teeth and tried to will away the rapidly encroaching seasickness, brought on by the rough seas. The relentless tossing about of the small deep-sea fishing boat she had finally managed to hire for the three hour trip to Catalina—a trip that was already nearing four-and a-half torturous hours—was taking a toll on her physical well-being. For six hundred dollars, Eve thought The Captain of the weathered vessel could at least have offered her some Dramamine to ease her discomfort. She was out of luck in that regard—he was used to ferrying hardened sea-going fisherman and not delicate landlubbers such as herself. All he had to offer on board that was even remotely medicinal was a bottle of rum, which she promptly declined.

  With the storm still roiling, though not as violently as the day before at the height of the winter squall, Eve knew she was fortunate to find anyone willing to brave the trip in this treacherous weather. It was too much to expect five star treatment—she was resigned to that dreary fact—but resigned or no, it didn’t make her stomach or head feel any better. She peered ahead, hoping to catch sight of the island through the low clouds, but saw nothing. Too late, she realized she shouldn’t have tried so hard to see what obviously wasn’t there. Suddenly, Eve leaned over the side of the boat, gripping the railing for dear life until her knuckles nearly popped out of the skin on her hands, and retched violently as the driving rain pelted her face like a million stinging needles.

  The weathered, scraggly captain quietly observed his younger and innocent customer who was busy heaving over the side of his boat, and chuckled to himself as he competently motored the boat through the choppy water toward their destination. He considered accepting her offer the day before, oblivious to danger, but he knew she couldn’t have handled the intensity of the storm. Today was proof his instincts were right on.

  On her knees, Eve hung limp over the rail without regard to falling overboard or drowning or any other possible fatal occurrence. She tried to ponder her involvement in the whole Mackenna affair, hoping a mental diversion would lessen the severity of the next inevitable round of sickness—“feeding the fishes” as The Captain described it—but her hopes were dashed almost immediately as she once again heaved mightily over the side. As she struggled against the seemingly endless waves of illness, the sound of the engine laboring against the small but constant swells and the endless pitching of the boat became an unfortunate part of her.

  “Hang on, Miss,” The Captain hollered over the sound of engine and weather. “We’re almost there.”

  That’s all she could do was hang on. Now, all she could hope for was that Mackenna was hanging on as well.

  ~/~/~/~/~

  Heavy rain continued to beat down on the multi-million dollar mega-yacht, securely anchored offshore at Avalon, though it was sometimes rocked violently by the ever-churning sea. Alice’s diary lay closed on the bed at Mackenna’s side where it had lain undisturbed for several hours. Over the course of the previous evening she had read every single word Alice wrote, cover to cover. She was still lost in the past, having relived every wonderful and horrific moment of her short time with Alice. The more she remembered, the more she became wracked with overwhelming pain and guilt. For seventeen years she had managed to successfully repress the truth, burying it deep into the darkest recesses of her mind; but the reality of it consumed her now so completely, her only surviving emotion was that she could not live with the truth.

  How could she live with herself, she wondered as she wept. Her whole body hurt from the deep, wretched sobbing. Despite being completely wrung dry of tears, she continued to weep—crippled with grief, loss and absolute guilt. She deserved to be dead, she reasoned with whatever reasoning powers she had left, and did not deserve all this wealth considering her sins. She deserved nothing. Her punishment—never to reconcile with her parents, always alone, forever guilty, and left with all their money—was too severe.

  Yes, it was her punishment, and now that she knew everything—the truth—she just couldn’t live with it. It was too painful. Realizing Alice was lost to her for all time was the ultimate punishment for her reprehensible and self-destructive behavior so many years ago. It was so clear to her now. Her mind swam with “if onlys.” If only she hadn’t alienated Alice, trying to win her back. If only she hadn’t needed to be drunk to cope with losing Alice. If only Alice had realized it was all because she was dying inside and couldn’t live without her. If only Alice knew everything—but she didn’t. Alice’s diary proved that beyond any doubts she might have had before. If only…

  Mackenna dragged herself up off the bed and carefully made her way upstairs through the entertainment room and out to the deck, all the while steadying herself against the lurching vessel and her own weakness. Finally outside, the wind-driven rain drenched her clothing within seconds. She immediately slipped on bare feet as the yacht lifted from a powerful swell only to swiftly crash down again. The violent motion of the ship caused her to fall awkwardly, first into the door jamb of the main cabin and then onto the deck, bruising her arm and smashing her aching leg, but she barely noticed.

  Pulling herself off the deck, Mackenna managed to navigate herself, though limping badly, up to the bow of the yacht, facing the open sea, and stood at the rail. She held onto the waist-high railing for support while the wind whipped at her clothing and hair, and contemplated her imminent demise. She looked toward the mainland as if looking for the ultimate answer, but because of the thick fog, all that was there was a memory.

  It would have been better, she conceded, if The Katie Mac were way out at sea, far away from civilization so her body could never be found. She didn’t want to be found. She wanted her body to be ripped apart and consumed by frenzied sharks. She wanted her pain to be torn and chewed away from her body. Lacking the base energy and the strength to even attempt to get the yacht out to the open sea by herself, Mackenna glumly accepted her options were limited. It didn’t matter, though, she decided quickly. The weather was harsh enough where she might not ever be found anyway. Yes, yes… she was to blame and now she had to pay, and here was just as good a place as anywhere else to end it.

  ~/~/~/~/~

  “Is that it?” Eve shouted to The Captain as she pointed to the black-hulled Feadship anchored just off the coast of the now visible Santa Catalina Island. The yacht, despite its enormity, was being greatly affected by the storm.

  “Yeah, see the name,” The Captain hollered back, “just under the bridge—The Katie Mac? That’s it, Missy.”

  Eve was awestruck at the size of the mega-yacht, especially as they drew closer. She wondered, would she ever get used to Mackenna’s wealth?


  The Captain whistled through his teeth and said over the labored sound of the motor, “You got some kind of friends, Miss. Nice lil’ boat there. Not smart, though, to park her this side of the island in this kind of weather. Bound to get some kind of damage. Shoulda taken her to the lee side. That’s what I woulda done,” he added. If it was my boat, he thought to himself. He was immediately filled with envy as he guided his boat closer to the luxury yacht.

  Consumed in her own world of self-reproach and despair, Mackenna was not aware of a small vessel approaching the bow of The Katie Mac. From below, the horrified occupants of the decrepit boat had a clear and frightening vision of her as she slowly climbed up onto the ledge and over the other side of the railing with grim determination.

  “Oh my god!” Eve screamed as soon as she caught sight of Mackenna. “Hurry, for godssakes hurry! Get me up there! You’ve got to get me up there!” Eve’s seasickness was immediately forgotten as the green tinge in her face was promptly replaced with the chalk white of fear. She implored The Captain to do the near impossible while alternately shouting to Mackenna to stop, but her pleas were hopelessly swallowed by the wind and rain.

  “I don’t know how close I can get, Miss!” The Captain shouted over the roaring wind while he struggled with the small craft. “I might tear up the yacht, and God only knows what it’ll do to my boat.”

  “I don’t care if your goddamned boat sinks, okay? ” she shouted back, her tears mixing with the rain. “Just get me the hell up there—I’ll pay you whatever the fucking hell you want, just get me to the goddamn ladder! Please,” she begged. “And hurry!”

  The Captain looked first to Eve’s pleading and desperate face, and then up to Mackenna who stood frozen in a crouch on the outer edge of the bow as she gripped the wooden railing behind her knees for support. He knew what he had to do—he didn’t have a choice. He slammed the throttle into high and shouted over his shoulder to Eve. “I’m gonna slip right by the back of the boat, right? You got two seconds to get the ladder—you miss it you swim, all right? Then I’m goin’ around the bow—if she jumps I’ll be there to pluck her stupid rich ass out of the drink. Got it? Got it?” he yelled.

  “Yes, yes,” Eve yelled back at him as she quickly moved into position, all the while keeping an eye on Mackenna. “Thank you!”

  “And one more thing,” he yelled above the din of the storm and motor. “If my boat here gets even the teeniest scratch on it, it’s gonna cost her, all right?” He shot Eve a kind grin and nodded toward Mackenna. Jumping off a monster like that? Shit, he thought, she can afford anything.

  Within the next minute The Captain was up alongside The Katie Mac and deftly maneuvered his boat close enough to the rear of the yacht for Eve to jump over the side of his boat and onto the yacht’s rear platform. It should have been pulled up for the storm, he thought, but was glad under the circumstances it hadn’t been. Once Eve leapt onto the Katie Mac, he hesitated for a brief moment in order to give her a safety net without the vessels touching, then began to negotiate his boat through the rough waters toward the bow of Mackenna’s ship.

  On all fours, Eve clung to the narrow slippery deck as The Captain pulled away, his boat violently bobbing to and fro as he distanced himself and his boat from The Katie Mac. Eve hauled herself up the stainless steel ladder to the deck of the yacht just as fast as she could, her own safety in jeopardy only briefly when she slipped on a rung in her haste and nearly lost her grip. Her heart was beating double-time hard against her chest as she finally lifted her fatigued body up onto the deck. Rain continued to drive down from the heavens, as the storm seemed to be escalating, with the wind whipping the flags wildly above her head, and not-too-distant flashes of light followed closely by rumbling thunder.

  Eve ignored her mounting fear as she wound her way through the length of the yacht and stumbled toward Mackenna, praying the whole way that Mackenna would stop and listen to her before doing anything drastic. She was filled with anxiety, afraid she’d come so far just to be too late—too late for Mackenna, and too late for herself.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Hanging On

  She was ready now. Mackenna stood at the very tip of the yacht’s bow, consumed by the elements. Pelted by rain, whipped by cold wind, she knew in her heart she was prepared to make the ultimate decision. Though no longer the least bit religious, in times of crisis, Mackenna’s Catholic upbringing would reappear. It never failed, that when frightened or challenged with making certain questionable decisions, base elements of her religious indoctrination would momentarily rise up and take control of her. Horrible thoughts of Hell and Purgatory would flit through her subconscious before she was able to wrest back her autonomy.

  This time, though she was able to successfully ward off the traditional Catholic beliefs, she could not entirely cast off the deep-seated belief that ultimately she was a sinner and that a payment of some sort was required. So what if suicide was considered a sin, she reasoned, because she wasn’t a believer anyway. Mackenna had reached a level of madness in her decision that it was time to end it all—end her own suffering and pay for her transgressions. There was nothing left for her to do. She was ready. It was going to be so easy, she decided. She looked up into the stormy sky above her, allowing the large raindrops to assail her face, and became filled with an incredible calmness in the midst of the external and internal storms. She had made her peace with Mother and Papá, Alice, Fiona, Prairie…

  The sudden appearance of a small fishing boat bobbing almost uncontrollably just below her abruptly interrupted Mackenna’s serene train of thought, its motor chugging heavily in the rough water. The battered vessel, in severe need of a paint job at the very least, was operated by a man she had never seen before who merely stared up at her. With one hand she angrily waved him away, but he only continued to stare as he gripped the wheel of his boat and battled the churning water.

  “Go away,” she yelled down to him, and waved more vigorously, but he made no effort to move his boat from her path. “Damn you—move! GET AWAY!” Mackenna began to weep again, now from frustration and anger. “Get away from me,” she yelled, emphasizing each word.

  “Em… Mackenna!” Eve shouted.

  Mackenna whipped her upper body around, startled by the sound of Eve’s voice, and nearly lost her footing. She scrabbled to maintain her balance on the narrow ledge, shocked to see Eve standing on the deck right behind her. “What… what are you doing here?” Mackenna cried as she edged away from Eve and turned around to face her. “Get out of here, Eve! GET OUT!”

  “I can’t, Mackenna, I can’t leave you now,” Eve said, crying. She instinctively reached her hand out to Mackenna but immediately withdrew it as soon as Mackenna pulled dangerously away from her. “Oh god, I’m sorry—wait… Mackenna, please, come back over… Please,” she begged.

  Mackenna looked over her shoulder only to find the man and his boat still bobbing directly below her, and then back at Eve who was again standing directly in front of her. There was no where to go unless she wanted to fling herself onto the mystery boat, but that was not part of her plan. She wanted to drown on her own terms, and she most definitely didn’t want to be saved by some scruffy man and his scruffy boat. This was wrong. It was all wrong. She clung to the railing and wept as the wind blew her body to and fro like a poorly wrapped sail cloth.

  “Mackenna, please come back on deck and talk to me,” Eve pleaded.

  “I can’t,” Mackenna wailed.

  “Of course you can—I’m here now, you can talk to me, Em,” Eve coaxed, trying to keep her voice as gentle as possible against the howling wind.

  “I’m being punished… and… I… I can’t take it anymore,” she screamed over the weather. “I can’t go back, Eve. I can’t.” Mackenna carefully turned her back to Eve and focused on the boat below.

  “You can—you can,” Eve cried. “Come and talk to me. Okay? I have something really important I have to talk to you about, Mackenna—but you have to come over here f
irst.”

  “No. Go away Eve.”

  Eve moved closer and gently touched Mackenna’s arm.

  “Don’t touch me! Or I swear, I’ll jump right now, Eve. I swear…” Mackenna’s demeanor became threatening and desperate at the same time.

  Eve jumped back quickly, pleading with Mackenna as she backed away as far as she dared. “Just let me talk to you and then, I promise—I swear to god—you can do whatever you want. Okay? Please. Please, Em—Mackenna… come over and let me talk to you…”

  “No, Eve. Talk to me here or not at all,” Mackenna said over her shoulder, her voice raised in defiance.

  “I can’t… I can’t. It’s too wet and cold out here and I can’t shout anymore—I’m begging you, please climb over. Just for a little while and I promise, you can do whatever you want after I tell you what I have to tell you. But you can’t do… anything—not before I talk to you—you have to hear this first.”

  Mackenna stared down at the boat and then out beyond toward the California mainland, which she still could not see, and realized she was trapped. She half turned around and looked into Eve’s face, filled with worry and concern, and shivered.

  She had to admit she was freezing. She was so cold her hands were turning blue, her feet were beginning to feel numb, and her ears were ringing from the wind and cold. She tightened her grip on the railing. She wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer anyway, she reluctantly admitted to herself. Favoring her aching leg, Mackenna began to turn herself around so she could climb over the railing.

  Just as she changed her grip, the wind gusted hard and the bow abruptly lifted straight up on a large swell and crashed down, listing starboard and throwing Mackenna completely off balance. She grabbed frantically at the railing but missed. Her bare feet slipped out from under her as she was violently hurled off the ledge.