Summer's Passing (13 page)

"Listen Beth," Beckie said. "If I wanted to get my job back, and it's not a sure thing, just asking, do you think there'd be a problem?"

"Absolutely not. Whenever you're ready, just give us a couple of days notice. I'm sure Maggie would welcome you back with open arms."

"Thanks." We slid out of the booth. "I'll let you know," Beckie said before the two hugged again.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Some older guy came in here a couple of weeks ago asking about you."

That stopped both of us in our tracks. 

"When was that?" Beckie asked.

"Like I said, it was about two weeks ago. I didn't talk to him, Jill did, but I think he wanted to know if you still worked here."

"Jill comes in at four, is that right?"

"Yep, sometimes a little later."

"I'll call her," Beckie said as we turned to leave.

"Wait! I just remembered. He left a note. Hold on a second." Beth went to the bar and disappeared behind it.

"Probably just a former customer of yours," I told her, but I doubt she believed me, if the look on her face meant anything.

"Found it!" Beth stood, waving a small envelope in the air. 

"I'll get it," I said and walked to the bar. Things were going so well. Beckie seemed so happy, but the mysterious man ruined things. It could be nothing, but I doubted it. 

I held on to the envelope and we said nothing as we walked outside.

"You read it," Beckie said, once we stood on the sidewalk.

The word Rebecca had been typed on the front of the letter. I ripped it open from the top and unfolded the paper within.

I silently read the printed words before I refolded the paper and stuck it in my pocket.

"What did it say?" Beckie asked.

"I'd rather not say," I told her, with complete honesty.

Beckie took my arm. "Will it change anything between the two of us?"

"No," I answered. "It won't."

"Then spit it out, Monroe."

I looked her in the eyes. I've found, in the time I have known Beckie, that her eyes give away all her secrets. I would not tell her that. It was my secret to keep.

"It says
I know where you live
. That's all; just those words." 

The return trip to the car became a chance for both of us to indulge our own thoughts. We walked the opposite side of the street, checking out the shops with little or no interest. I needed to pick up something of importance in Port Grace, and the window of opportunity was closing fast. Luckily, the store next to my destination grabbed Beckie's attention.

"Paintings," she said. "They sell paintings here. Let's check them out."

"Tell you what," I said to her. "I need to call my dad real quick. It's been a few days. How 'bout if I meet you inside, in about ten minutes?"

"Okay," and she darted through the store's open door.

It took me a bit longer than ten minutes to find what I was looking for but I need not have rushed. Beckie hadn't even made it to the rear of the store when I caught up with her.

She acted as if I'd been standing next to her the entire time. "Look at this one, Doug. It could be you."

The painting, one of the hundreds lining the walls and floors, was of a man standing in a field in front of a cottage. He wore clothing that reminded me of a time long ago. He leaned on the sword he held in his hand, and a large bow was draped across his back. A quiver full of arrows graced the ground beside him. 

"He looks like I imagine you in ten years’ time," Beckie added.

"There does seem to be a resemblance," I said, and there was, though I'll admit to a feeling of pride at the comparison.

She moved close to me and whispered in my ear."It's eighty dollars. You think the store would hold it until I get some money coming in? Maybe I can put it on layaway or something."

After the tension of the note, her somewhat comical conspiratorial tone made me smile. As I said, she's quick to heal.

"How about if I buy it for you and you pay me back when you start working?" 

"Deal." She held out her hand and we shook on it. 

At the counter, Beckie asked the store owner, an older gentleman who introduced himself as Samuel, where he came across the artwork. 

"Truth be told, I don't know where that painting came from; an estate sale, maybe. The wife and I go to several around the country each year. Don't recognize the artist either, though it's a fine piece of art."

"I think it looks like my boyfriend." Beckie held it up next to me. "What do you think?"

Samuel adjusted his glasses and bent forward. He examined the portrait carefully before turning to me. I must admit, I felt a little uneasy having this stranger eye me up. His head went back and forth several times before he announced his verdict. 

"One and the same, I'd think. I've often told Gloria we have twins of ourselves living in the past."

I hated to burst his bubble, but I felt I must. "This painting can't be that old. The artist," I looked at the name sketched in the lower corner, "this Rachel Cain, must have added the period clothing."

"Perhaps," Samuel said. "Let's ask your girlfriend." He smiled at Beckie. "Do you think the man in the portrait wore these clothes, or do you think our artist wrapped him in her imagination?"

She studied the painting. "He wore them, of course. I've no doubt of it."

"There you have it." He clapped his hands together. "Case solved."

Beckie carried the bag containing the painting close to her side as we walked to the car. Every now and then, I caught her sneaking a glance at it, as if she couldn't believe it was hers.

At exactly four, Beckie called Maggie's.

We sat on the beach house porch, Sophie on Beckie's lap, a beer on mine. She took the phone from her ear and cupped the mouthpiece.

"She just walked in," She whispered to me. "They're getting her."

A short while passed before Beckie began talking again. "Jill, it's Beckie. How have you been?"

The answer to that particular question must have required some explanation because it took a while before Beckie said, "I'm fine too, thanks for asking."

She moved the phone to her other hand. "Listen, I understand you talked to someone who was looking for me not too long ago. Can you tell me what the guy looked like?"

Beckie gripped the phone tightly as she listened. She stared blankly at the gulf. "That's it then? That's all you remember?" A pause. "Okay, I'll call you soon, promise." She put the phone down.

"Well?" I asked her.

"Nothing helpful. She could only recall that he wore old clothes and smelled of body odor. He had a gray beard and long gray hair and looked to be in his fifties maybe. She called him a raggedy man."

"Was her description any help? Did it sound like someone you might know, like your father?"

"None of the above," Beckie said.

A seagull fluttered to a landing on the sand not far from us. It pecked around until it found the scrap that drew it there. 

I saw Beckie watch the bird until it flew away in search of a more substantial snack. 

"Do you think my father might have sent somebody here to look for me?" She asked. 

"I'm not sure why he would do something like that," I answered.

"You don't know my father. It sounds like something he might do."

Actually, I thought I knew her father rather well, from her vivid recollections of him. At one time, years ago, he seemed quite possessive of his daughter. I wanted to think he was past that, but who knew? The person Beckie talked about seemed mentally unstable at best. Could he have sent someone to find her? Maybe. 

"Then again, it could be just a good old fashioned haunting, you know, a ghost or something. I almost wish that were the case. Crazy, huh?"

"There's still the 911 option," I said.

"Yeah, there's still that," she added.

We didn't say anything for some time. The sand and the water held my attention and the raggedy man held my thoughts.

Beckie was first to break the silence. "I'm going to take a short nap before dinner. How about we eat something later at The Sand Trap?"

"Sounds like a plan," I said.

"I really don't want to be alone right now," Beckie added. "If you want to join me, I'll make it worth your while."

"Now there's an offer I can't refuse," I said and finished my beer in a few large gulps. I belched afterwards.

"Are you sure we haven't been married for like twenty years or so?" She asked as she stood.

"Not certain of it," I said and belched once more for good measure.

We did manage to squeeze in a quick nap. Afterwards, we took a shower together, while Sophie sat on the sink counter and bathed herself in turn.

We dressed casually for the evening, shorts, t-shirts, and sneakers. Sophie spread out on the bed as if she owned it, sleeping soundly, and I checked both doors and the windows, making certain they were secure.

Beckie wouldn't admit it, but I'm sure she felt the same way I did, that this might well be our last walk from the beach house to The Sand Trap. No matter what the future held for us, the beach house would certainly not be a part of it.

As luck would have it, Eric and the tank top twins caught up with us on the beach, at about the halfway point.

Cassie and Eve ran past us as if we were invisible but an out of breath Eric stopped beside us.

"Hold up a minute," he gasped, clinging to my shoulder for support.

Beckie looked at him and shook her head. "We might need to place that 911 call after all," she said. 

"Toss him in the water," Eve yelled from in front of us. "That will revive him."

"I haven't fainted!" Eric yelled back before a coughing fit hit him. "Not yet anyhow."

Beckie and I waited until Eric signaled his full recovery with a thumbs up before we continued walking.

"So, what's your game plan?" I asked him. "Summer's winding down."

"We've got through September in the house. Then the owner comes down. I guess I'll have to find another accommodation at some point soon, and maybe even a job."

Eric said the word job as if it was a curse word.

"How about the two of you?" He asked.

"We haven't decided yet. We may stay here or we may move somewhere else. We'll need to clear out of the beach house soon no matter what," I said.

"It looks like we're in the same boat. Hey, maybe we could all move in together some place."

I glanced over at Beckie. She was desperately trying to suppress a smile without succeeding. It appeared she would be of no help.

"Let me get back to you on that one," I said.

"Just think about it is all I'm asking," Eric added.

The Sand Trap crowd began to arrive when we sat at the table on the beach. The sky had yet to turn to ebony and the last of the sunset's colors fought a losing battle with the fast approaching night.

Beckie and I each had the house special, a Bahama Burger with fries. I had a draft beer, Beckie an iced tea. Eric joined us for the meal. He claimed he had eaten earlier, but that didn't stop him from bumming fries from Beckie and I. Eve and Cassie, their energy levels still far from peaking, danced together by the bar. It was, all told, a typical night at the Trap.

Neither Beckie nor I would admit it, but we both stole glances toward the surf, from time to time, after darkness enveloped us. If restless spirits did indeed call those sands their own, tonight they were elsewhere. The beach remained deserted.

We didn't stay there long. I suggested we head back to the section of the surf that, for this night at least, belonged to the two of us. Beckie agreed and we bade Eric, and maybe The Sand Trap, goodbye.

We held hands as we walked. Occasionally another couple or a group of people passed us with a nod or a "How's it going?"

We were close to the house when another couple passed us near the breaking waves. The man and woman were elderly, maybe in their seventies or eighties. It was hard to tell in the dark. I nodded to them as they neared and they nodded back.

As they strolled by us, I heard the woman say something that puzzled me. Beckie heard it too. It stopped her in her tracks. Beckie turned around. "What was that?" she asked.

The man and the woman both stopped and faced us. Both wore smiles. "I said, you're healing nicely," the woman said.

"How did you know I was in an accident?" Beckie stood her ground as the woman approached her. She slowly brought her hand to Beckie's cheek and touched it lightly.

"My dear, I didn't know you were in an accident," she said.

"But how?" Beckie began before the woman touched Beckie's lips. 

"There is one more obstacle ahead of you," the woman continued. "One more test you must pass. The two of you are more powerful than the one. Remember that." The elderly woman removed her hand from Beckie's lips before rejoining her companion. 

"Now," she said to her companion. "You were telling me about another of your adventures, were you not?" They joined hands and disappeared into the darkness.

"Are there always going to be more questions than answers?" Beckie asked me as we sat on a blanket beneath the stars.

"It appears that's the way of our lives so far," I answered.

"She seemed familiar to me, that woman. Why is that? And why am I to be tested? What's that all about?" 

"More questions than answers," I said, but more than questions danced about in my head. The apprehensive feeling that came and went so easily had come back strong. This time it felt as if it might stick around for a spell.

"We'll wait here until they return." Beckie leaned against me. "I have more to ask her. She left too quickly."

I needed to change the subject. I had a plan mapped out for this night and no amount of weirdness would stop me from carrying it out. I decided to get right to it before the woman and her mysterious words returned.

"I need to ask you something, Beckie."

She lifted her head. "Another question? Just when I thought I'd get a break."

I held her hand and shifted around until I knelt in front of her. "I hope you don't mind me being on two knees instead of one?"