Pieces of Hate (A Wendover House Mystery Book 4) by Melanie Jackson Page B
Authors: Melanie Jackson
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gotten
nearly as much done as I had hoped.”
I felt guilty.
Ben really didn’t look well.
“Thanks for
everything. I should have something for you on Saturday.”
“Good. I need
to put this baby to bed. I have other deadlines. By the way, do you want to ride
over to Goose Haven with me tomorrow? You could practice your speech on me if
you wanted.”
“Thanks. That
would be great.”
Chapter 9
The whyspers came from all around—at sea. From land, above, below. When we
heeded them not they turnd to slurs and snarls that
seemed to draw ever closer. Those below decks heard them too as well as
scratching at the syde of the ship where something threatnyng tried to gain admittance. Even down in the lazarette they heard the snarls and scratching as if giant
rats gnawed at the timbers.
—from the unbound journal of Halfbeard
The weather was lovely for Founders Day. I wondered if I would get credit
for it. Certainly I would have been blamed had it stormed.
Barney knew that something was up when I took the step of putting on
makeup and he began to look concerned. He wasn’t used to being left alone and
it caused me some guilty pangs. I just hoped Kelvin would be a good enough
babysitter since Ben was going to be away too.
Going on the theory that an easy walk is not an attractive walk, I was
wearing moderate heels and a slightly tight skirt. My neckline dipped a couple
of inches into a tasteful V but even the Reverend Burke could not claim it
plunged and my arms were covered.
I had decided against wearing a costume. There hadn’t been time to dig
out something appropriate. It seemed best that I should go as myself and not
feel self-conscious when Bryson and I dined later.
A glance at my watch said it was time to go so I propped open the back
door, put food in the already empty dishes, and headed for Ben’s cottage.
Ben was quiet on the trip over, withdrawn though not angry. That silence
was unlike him, but since I had a head full of my own thoughts, I decided not
to try and draw him out. Anyway, what was there to say? The box had to go back.
The various groups coagulated into colorful clots along the street and
condensed around the stage, mostly sorted by era but sometimes by color, as in
the case of the choirs. I have noticed that there is ecumenical harmony at
official functions, probably because everyone agrees to pursue a separate but
equal doctrine. At least in public. What they feel in
their hearts is another matter. As far as the world of the mainland is
concerned, the Catholics love the Methodists and everyone enjoys pancakes with
the Baptists and snow cones with the Episcopalians.
The stands were full of tourists from both the U.S. and Canada who
were looking for some wholesome entertainment. They would get it too. I bet the
pageant wouldn’t have one witch, execution, pirate, or sea monster in it. There
would be no ugly histories reenacted in the play. They would learn a lot about
fishing and pine trees, and in a punctual manner since
the program would by God start on time.
Mr. Hazeltine , chairman of the Committee for
Better Motion Pictures , took the
stage to introduce me. The man is an utter and extreme bore and isn’t
particularly well informed about local history, but it hardly matters. He
sounds like Sean Connery and always gets asked to narrate plays and introduce
speakers. The only holdouts are the Catholics who won’t ask him to call Bingo
on account of his being a Methodist.
My speech wasn’t long, but I don’t think they wanted it to be. I spoke
mainly to Harris and a little to Ben who were both in
the audience, since I don’t like public speaking. The words were sincere and
the crowd not critical, either because they knew me, or because they didn’t, so
I got a lot of applause and was able to escape before I got sunburned.
The all-church choir took the stage next and sang “State of Maine Song,”
which I had never heard before. After that the choirs separated by
nearly as much done as I had hoped.”
I felt guilty.
Ben really didn’t look well.
“Thanks for
everything. I should have something for you on Saturday.”
“Good. I need
to put this baby to bed. I have other deadlines. By the way, do you want to ride
over to Goose Haven with me tomorrow? You could practice your speech on me if
you wanted.”
“Thanks. That
would be great.”
Chapter 9
The whyspers came from all around—at sea. From land, above, below. When we
heeded them not they turnd to slurs and snarls that
seemed to draw ever closer. Those below decks heard them too as well as
scratching at the syde of the ship where something threatnyng tried to gain admittance. Even down in the lazarette they heard the snarls and scratching as if giant
rats gnawed at the timbers.
—from the unbound journal of Halfbeard
The weather was lovely for Founders Day. I wondered if I would get credit
for it. Certainly I would have been blamed had it stormed.
Barney knew that something was up when I took the step of putting on
makeup and he began to look concerned. He wasn’t used to being left alone and
it caused me some guilty pangs. I just hoped Kelvin would be a good enough
babysitter since Ben was going to be away too.
Going on the theory that an easy walk is not an attractive walk, I was
wearing moderate heels and a slightly tight skirt. My neckline dipped a couple
of inches into a tasteful V but even the Reverend Burke could not claim it
plunged and my arms were covered.
I had decided against wearing a costume. There hadn’t been time to dig
out something appropriate. It seemed best that I should go as myself and not
feel self-conscious when Bryson and I dined later.
A glance at my watch said it was time to go so I propped open the back
door, put food in the already empty dishes, and headed for Ben’s cottage.
Ben was quiet on the trip over, withdrawn though not angry. That silence
was unlike him, but since I had a head full of my own thoughts, I decided not
to try and draw him out. Anyway, what was there to say? The box had to go back.
The various groups coagulated into colorful clots along the street and
condensed around the stage, mostly sorted by era but sometimes by color, as in
the case of the choirs. I have noticed that there is ecumenical harmony at
official functions, probably because everyone agrees to pursue a separate but
equal doctrine. At least in public. What they feel in
their hearts is another matter. As far as the world of the mainland is
concerned, the Catholics love the Methodists and everyone enjoys pancakes with
the Baptists and snow cones with the Episcopalians.
The stands were full of tourists from both the U.S. and Canada who
were looking for some wholesome entertainment. They would get it too. I bet the
pageant wouldn’t have one witch, execution, pirate, or sea monster in it. There
would be no ugly histories reenacted in the play. They would learn a lot about
fishing and pine trees, and in a punctual manner since
the program would by God start on time.
Mr. Hazeltine , chairman of the Committee for
Better Motion Pictures , took the
stage to introduce me. The man is an utter and extreme bore and isn’t
particularly well informed about local history, but it hardly matters. He
sounds like Sean Connery and always gets asked to narrate plays and introduce
speakers. The only holdouts are the Catholics who won’t ask him to call Bingo
on account of his being a Methodist.
My speech wasn’t long, but I don’t think they wanted it to be. I spoke
mainly to Harris and a little to Ben who were both in
the audience, since I don’t like public speaking. The words were sincere and
the crowd not critical, either because they knew me, or because they didn’t, so
I got a lot of applause and was able to escape before I got sunburned.
The all-church choir took the stage next and sang “State of Maine Song,”
which I had never heard before. After that the choirs separated by
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