Wednesday, January 17, 2018

T

he next morning blue sky diced the clouds. The daytime yawned over the horizon, tired to repeat; but when the air undressed the fading mist like dropped pajamas before a morning shower, the bay house appeared in the distance and I jumped up on the rickety boat screaming—

"JACK!"

I pulled for the oars at my feet, pushed the water out from under me, and the canoe pulled steadily and then sped along the water that had changed from black to a clean gray.

I don't know if the feeling inside me was hope, because a part of my heart was still locked in the almost certain notion that my lover was dead. But even just to know the truth was enough to keep me motivated to press onward for the bay house.

I ignored the blanket over George's corpse. I even tried to ignore his horrible stench of death that wafted from the bow as the wind carried it. I just tried to taste as much sea-salt air as I could to distract myself from the fear that when I found both Travis and my lover dead in that house, that I would have no reason to live. And I would die.

The house came closer, and closer, until finally the four-story structure blocked out the sky and cast a shadow over the canoe. The path ended at the broken wooden patio of the second-floor den. The canoe bumped into the bay house.

I jumped out of the canoe as fast as I could, leaving the corpse in the boat behind me. I gripped the sliding door of the den and leapt inside. The room had a smell of death in it. And when I found the source of the stench I nearly fell backward out the door again.

The moans of the sea reverberated through the walls. My arms, as cold as they were, crackled now like burning wood. There was a body covered with a black blanket on the couch. Its feet poked out.

I knelt to the floor and my vision faded to the tears.

The walls seemed to cry out.

They were Travis's feet.

I stood to my feet, and tried to find hope like a little violin in the empty chambers of my chest. Losing the will to go on. I hoped I would find Jack, and recover it.

I hoped Jack didn't give up.