thicker as I neared the noisy waves. At last I made out Sarah’s hazy shape perched on a boulder by the water’s edge. She called out good morning in a surprised voice and I waved, concentrating on my steps. No falling in the ocean today.
“Did I wake you?” she asked apologetically. “I couldn’t sleep so I came to sit for a while.”
“No, I never heard you. I just couldn’t find you so I decided to look here.” I took a chilly seat on a smaller rock beside hers.
“I’m glad you did. You’ll want to see this.” I asked her ‘ See what?’ and she pointed up to the brightest part of the gray sky. “The sun will burn off all this fog as soon as it gets going and we’ll have a beautiful day. Crystal clear. I thought we’d go into town, maybe even take the ferry over to the island, see some of the tourist towns.” We discussed plans enthusiastically for a few moments before we both lapsed back into quiet, looking over the ocean. Stakes of blinding light sliced through the clouds and hit the rippling water. “There it goes…” Sarah said, and sure enough, the cloying mist spread like a great bird extending its wings, lifted off the sea, and disappeared. It took no more than ten minutes. “You never get used to her,” Sarah commented in awe. “She flattens our houses, sinks our ships, wears out our men, and still, we wake up just to look at her.”
I gazed at Sarah, more mesmerized by her words than the ocean. A question mounted in my chest, overflowed to my lips. “Then why did my mother leave?” Gulls cried raucously and fell through the sky as Sarah turned her head away from me. I watched the locks of her rumpled morning hair flutter against her shoulders.
“She couldn’t forgive us. Couldn’t forgive me. We all failed her. It took me a long time to see that.” Sarah turned back to me, a plaintive look in her eyes. “I can’t tell you the entire story, Jennifer, because I don’t know it all. I was gone for a lot of it. I’ve waited twenty years to hear what really happened. But I can tell you what I know.”
I looked squarely into her eyes and then down at my toes which pulled up, to avoid the spray. “Do other people know? Am I the only one who has no idea what happened here?” That question was indefinably important to me.
Sarah inhaled thoughtfully and pushed her lips together. “Lots of people have a piece. You might be the first one, oddly enough, in the right situation to put the puzzle together.” She looked harder at me like there was a riddle to solve in my face. “Imagine that. The one who didn’t even know there was a puzzle,” she murmured before she scooped up her shoes from the floor of broken seashells and slid down from her rock. “But you should at least have a good breakfast in you before we delve into the dark mysteries of your family, agreed?” She smiled brightly.
“Fair enough,” I agreed and stood, brushing off the seat of my pajamas.
“Good! Lobster and eggs?” She laughed before I could answer. “Truly, the best of Maine is wasted on you, Jennifer,” she called as she sprinted lithely over the slick terrain like a skipping child. I stumbled less gracefully and caught up to her when she paused at the top of the beach. “I might be able to tell you why she left, but I can’t tell you how.” Her inscrutable expression swirled with emotion as she looked at me.
We walked back to the house and Sarah made an egg soufflé while I showered and dressed. While Sarah dressed I perused the bookshelf, wondering how to pick a line for the reading that night when two sharp thumps resounded on the porch steps and the screen door opened with a loud click.
“Sarah?” A girl’s voice called loudly. “Sarah.” This time louder with impatience.
The water was still running in Sarah’s room so I crossed the living room and opened the front door. A little girl, no more than five, with curly red hair frowned at me. Before I could say a word she blurted, “Are
“Did I wake you?” she asked apologetically. “I couldn’t sleep so I came to sit for a while.”
“No, I never heard you. I just couldn’t find you so I decided to look here.” I took a chilly seat on a smaller rock beside hers.
“I’m glad you did. You’ll want to see this.” I asked her ‘ See what?’ and she pointed up to the brightest part of the gray sky. “The sun will burn off all this fog as soon as it gets going and we’ll have a beautiful day. Crystal clear. I thought we’d go into town, maybe even take the ferry over to the island, see some of the tourist towns.” We discussed plans enthusiastically for a few moments before we both lapsed back into quiet, looking over the ocean. Stakes of blinding light sliced through the clouds and hit the rippling water. “There it goes…” Sarah said, and sure enough, the cloying mist spread like a great bird extending its wings, lifted off the sea, and disappeared. It took no more than ten minutes. “You never get used to her,” Sarah commented in awe. “She flattens our houses, sinks our ships, wears out our men, and still, we wake up just to look at her.”
I gazed at Sarah, more mesmerized by her words than the ocean. A question mounted in my chest, overflowed to my lips. “Then why did my mother leave?” Gulls cried raucously and fell through the sky as Sarah turned her head away from me. I watched the locks of her rumpled morning hair flutter against her shoulders.
“She couldn’t forgive us. Couldn’t forgive me. We all failed her. It took me a long time to see that.” Sarah turned back to me, a plaintive look in her eyes. “I can’t tell you the entire story, Jennifer, because I don’t know it all. I was gone for a lot of it. I’ve waited twenty years to hear what really happened. But I can tell you what I know.”
I looked squarely into her eyes and then down at my toes which pulled up, to avoid the spray. “Do other people know? Am I the only one who has no idea what happened here?” That question was indefinably important to me.
Sarah inhaled thoughtfully and pushed her lips together. “Lots of people have a piece. You might be the first one, oddly enough, in the right situation to put the puzzle together.” She looked harder at me like there was a riddle to solve in my face. “Imagine that. The one who didn’t even know there was a puzzle,” she murmured before she scooped up her shoes from the floor of broken seashells and slid down from her rock. “But you should at least have a good breakfast in you before we delve into the dark mysteries of your family, agreed?” She smiled brightly.
“Fair enough,” I agreed and stood, brushing off the seat of my pajamas.
“Good! Lobster and eggs?” She laughed before I could answer. “Truly, the best of Maine is wasted on you, Jennifer,” she called as she sprinted lithely over the slick terrain like a skipping child. I stumbled less gracefully and caught up to her when she paused at the top of the beach. “I might be able to tell you why she left, but I can’t tell you how.” Her inscrutable expression swirled with emotion as she looked at me.
We walked back to the house and Sarah made an egg soufflé while I showered and dressed. While Sarah dressed I perused the bookshelf, wondering how to pick a line for the reading that night when two sharp thumps resounded on the porch steps and the screen door opened with a loud click.
“Sarah?” A girl’s voice called loudly. “Sarah.” This time louder with impatience.
The water was still running in Sarah’s room so I crossed the living room and opened the front door. A little girl, no more than five, with curly red hair frowned at me. Before I could say a word she blurted, “Are
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