Dark Water Rising (7 page)

I turned south by Ursuline Academy, and my heart nearly skipped right out of my chest. Ella Rose stood in front of me, about ten yards away, hair shining, blue eyes smiling.

“You must be Ben’s cousin,” she said, walking up to me. “Seth, right? I’m Ella Rose Covington. Henry told me what a good carpenter you are.”

I couldn’t seem to get my mouth open. “Um . . . Henry?”

“My cousin, Henry Covington. He said you work together?”

“Oh, that’s right. We do. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Thank you.” She gave me a bright smile. “You know, I think I saw you when I was swimming last Friday.”

I nodded, my thoughts a stubborn knot I couldn’t work loose. “I . . . um . . . think I saw you, too. You were in the water?”

“Yes.” She laughed. “And you were looking over the Pagoda railing, right?”

My head bobbed again. “I looked for you later, but I guess you were gone by then.”

“You did? That was sweet of you.”

She shot me another radiant smile, and a fierce flutter racked my belly.

“Will you be going back this weekend?” she asked.

“Yes, Saturday—Saturday after work, for sure.” I sucked in a deep breath, trying to still the quiver in my knees. “Will I see you there?”

“Oh, I’m sure you will—me and half of Galveston.” She laughed again, then tossed a quick glance at the academy. “Sister Agnes promised to help me with my Latin if I came in early, so I have to hurry.” She shifted her books. “See you Saturday,” she called over her shoulder.

“Yes, Saturday,” I said, waving.

I stood there by the road, staring after her. “Covington,” I muttered. “Of course. She’s Henry’s cousin. Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

A group of passing girls heard me and giggled. Red-faced, I took off for work.

Mr. Farrell put me with Zach and Josiah again. “At the rate you boys are going,” he said, “we’ll make our deadline and get that bonus yet.”

For the first time, I saw a big smile on Zach’s face. I guess he really needed the money with so much family to care for. It made me eager to make sure he got it, not that I couldn’t find a good use for the extra pay myself. I wondered if Ella Rose went to dances at the pavilion. If I ever hoped to take her, I’d have to look into buying some decent clothes, though after putting away three-quarters of my pay, the rest wouldn’t go very far. I remembered the way the Garten Verein had looked Friday night, and I could almost see Ella Rose standing under a leafy canopy in front of the pavilion, brilliant light casting a halo of silver around her like . . .

I felt a nudge, blinked, and Ella Rose disappeared.

“You all right?” Zach asked, his arms full of lumber.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” I ducked my head, hoping he wouldn’t see the sudden heat I felt in my cheeks. I grabbed the sawhorses and carried them up the stairs.

By afternoon, a few clouds had rolled in and the wind shifted to the north, bringing a hint of prairie and mesquite, hills and home. I breathed it in, but there was something else, too, tingling at the edge of my senses. I stood by the raised basement, letting the
feeling grow inside me, and remembered: A north wind always brought change.

Mr. Farrell must’ve sensed something, too. He stood on the gallery, looking out over the gulf, his face furrowed with an edgy bewilderment. I looked, too, but couldn’t figure out what had caught his attention. The tide was high and the water rough, yet despite the peculiar haze in the sky and the fresh northerly wind, the gulf still swelled and rolled onto the beach like it had since the day I’d arrived.

As the day wore on, we all seemed to move slower. The north breeze had done nothing to lessen the heat, as I’d hoped. In fact, it grew even sultrier, sitting heavy on my brow and in my chest, weighing me down till every breath was an effort. I soon forgot about Ella Rose, and by sunset, all I wanted to do was go home and fall asleep by the open windows.

I’d set the clock to go off earlier Friday morning, and when the alarm sounded, I jumped to turn it off. Lucas groaned, and Matt muttered, “Can’t you put a pillow over that thing?”

“Go back to sleep,” I whispered, jerking on my pants. I carried my best work shirt downstairs with me, washed up outside, and took extra care in combing my hair. There was a good chance I’d run into Ella Rose again this morning.

I headed for the kitchen to pack my noon meal and found Mama wrist-deep in bread dough. There’d be six brown loaves sitting on the stove when I came in this evening. She tilted her big bowl, turned the pale mound onto the floured table, and began the rhythmic push and fold of kneading. Kate, feet still bare, danced back and forth on the wood floor behind her.

“Would you take her to the outhouse before you go, Seth, so I can finish up this bread?”

I groaned. Didn’t she know I had a real job, now, like Papa?

“Mama,” I said, “I can’t keep doing this. I’m not a kid anymore.”

She paused slightly in her rhythm, and without ever looking up, said simply, “I know, Seth.”

I stared at her, waiting for something more, some glimpse of understanding. When it didn’t come, I grabbed Kate’s hand, pulled her to the door and down the stairs. By the time I got back in, Mama had finished her kneading and was packing my dinner. She smiled her thanks, but I was too irritated to smile back. Things would never change around here, and I had to face that fact. She and Papa might never see me as a grown man, no matter what I did. Without a word, I grabbed up my dinner and headed for the door.

The still-dark sky looked clear but felt unusually warm and humid when I left. I wasn’t two minutes
down the road before I was wiping sweat from my face and swatting mosquitoes. The bit of rain left in the gutters from Tuesday night’s storm had spawned some mean little devils, and they all seemed to have a rabid appetite for my neck.

The sun was up when I got to Ursuline Academy, but I saw no sign of Ella Rose. I stood waiting, my shirt streaked with sweat and my handkerchief grimy. After a short while, I finally saw her halfway down the block and ran to meet her.

I must’ve looked a mess by the time I caught up with her. She took one look at my sweaty face, laughed, and pulled a lace-trimmed handkerchief from her sleeve.

I stared at the embroidered initials in the corner, about to refuse her offer, but found myself reaching for it anyway, sliding it across my forehead and my upper lip. It smelled sweet, like lilacs. I started to hand it back to her, then saw what I’d done to her fresh handkerchief. My cheeks flushed hot.

“Keep it,” she said, pulling out a second one. “You might need it later.” She patted at the moisture beading on her own forehead and neck, then laughed at the sullied cloth. “Where does all this grime come from?”

I shrugged, smiling at the effortless way she’d set me at ease.

She glanced over at the academy and sighed. “I have to go.”

“See you tomorrow?” I asked.

She nodded, waved, and headed for school.

I tucked the handkerchief into my pocket and went on to work. Since I’d started out early, I was at the site long before anyone else. I climbed to the newly finished gallery on the last house, then up to the roof where Frank and Charlie had begun shingling yesterday evening.

I could see the whole city from up there, and recognized a lot of the buildings that Uncle Nate had pointed out on our trip from the train station. St. Patrick’s Catholic Church, with its spires still under construction, and Bath Avenue School. The Levy Building on Market and the Tremont Hotel. The twin towers of St. Mary’s Cathedral and, of course, the thousands of gray slate roofs.

I turned and looked east, following the curve of the beach toward Bolivar Roads, the great deepwater channel at the end of the island. A large freighter had just emerged from Galveston Bay, making its way through the Roads. The north wind blew great plumes of steam over her bow, and I watched till she became a dark spot on the horizon, all but lost in the wide green gulf. Then I heard voices.

The men were here, and it was time to go to work.

8

The north wind had swept clouds into thin wisps across the sky like fine white silk, and other than being hotter than usual, the day was turning out well. Like before, Mr. Farrell put me to work with Josiah and Zach, and again the three of us fell into that indefinable rhythm. Hammers rang, saws rasped, and the hours slipped away.

By evening, I heard a girl’s voice and looked over the balcony railing. My heart gave a wild thump and jumped into my throat. The girl was Ella Rose.

She stood below, talking to Henry and Mr. Farrell, but her face looked clouded and serious. Zach and Josiah walked down with me to see what was going on, and Frank and Charlie followed.

“The storm flag went up this morning,” Ella Rose said when she saw me. “I wasn’t sure if any of you had heard.”

Her hair billowed in the strengthening breeze, and
bright tendrils caught on her lashes and in the corner of her mouth.

“Are you planning to work tomorrow, boss?” Henry asked.

Mr. Farrell nodded. “If it rains, we’ll work inside.”

I glanced at the clouds tumbling in from the northeast. It was a good thing Frank and Charlie had finished the shingling today.

Mr. Farrell squinted toward the sun and checked his watch. “I guess we’ll call it a day, boys, and hope for the best tomorrow.”

“Are you walking?” I asked Ella Rose.

She nodded. “And you?”

“Every day,” I said. “If you don’t mind waiting while I put away the tools, I would be happy to keep you company. Josiah goes that way, too.”

A startled look swept across Josiah’s face. He helped put everything away, then took off north with Zach and his brothers.

“Where are you going?” I called after him, but he either didn’t hear or didn’t want to hear. I turned to Ella Rose and shrugged. “Want to follow the beach for a few blocks?”

She nodded, and I took her books.

We walked past the Midway and the giant bathhouses where only a few souls braved the waves this evening, riding huge swells that seemed to almost touch the
lamps suspended over the surf. There surely wouldn’t be any nude bathing beyond the lights tonight. Then it hit me. With a storm coming, there probably wouldn’t be any bathing tomorrow, either, of any kind. I glanced at Ella Rose, wondering if she’d already thought of that. Of course, we hadn’t made a real date, but even so, it would be a dark disappointment if a whole week passed before I had a chance to see her again.

“The waves look strange, don’t they?” she asked.

A strong wind pushed against my back as I looked out over the rough surf. I tried to see what was different, but I hadn’t been here long enough to know what was strange and what wasn’t.

“Usually, a north wind pushes the tide out, leaving hardly a ripple on the water. Mr. Farrell told me this evening that the whole gulf should be looking so shallow you’d think you could walk all the way to Cuba if you wanted.” She shook her head. “That’s not happening this time.”

I squinted out over the waves, wondering why this north wind was different. “But storms happen here all the time, so they can’t be all that bad, can they?”

She shrugged. “About fifteen years ago, a little town not far from here called Indianola was completely washed away, scattered all across the prairie. But everyone says it couldn’t happen again, and certainly not here in Galveston. We get storms and overflows all the
time, and they never last long or do much damage. It’s kind of exciting, really, watching the waves and seeing the water rise up in the streets and yards.”