Kraken (2 page)

The men from the boat ran over seconds later. The old man put his hands on his hips, pressing his lips together in two thin white lines. One sailor from the ferry knelt briefly beside the parts of Cameron’s body protruding beyond the RV’s front wheels, then turned around to face the old guy. Will caught the glance that flickered between them: resignation, frustration, annoyance.

Will walked about twenty feet away from the RV and sat down, cross legged, putting his head in his hands and closing his eyes. A shadow fell on him.

“Are
you
okay?”

The voice was warm and deep and full of concern.

Will shook his head.

“Can I call someone for you?”

Will starkly realized the only person there was to call was now living on an island with no phones. There hadn’t been anyone else, not for a long while. His mom had died when he was eighteen. Always the forward thinker, she’d left enough life insurance to make sure he could study whatever he wanted at college, with enough left over to buy his studio apartment. There had been boyfriends in the years before Parker, but never for long. Will thought he’d come to terms with the fact that he just wasn’t very lovable. Or sexy. Definitely not sexy.

He felt a body lower itself to the graveled tarmac next to him.

“I saw. I’m so sorry. Was he your . . . “

Will opened his eyes. The tall man next to him radiated tightly-wound energy, as if ready for movement. His sculpted biceps and shoulders pushed against the soft knit cotton of his shirt. Dark brown hair sat in an artfully messy style, the kind that took a two-hundred-dollar haircut and organic product to achieve, compared to Will’s variety of messy, which required dime-store shampoo and borderline levels of self-care.

“Oh. No. No, I just met him. Apparently his name was Cameron.”

“Fuck, that was Cam?”

“You knew him?”

“Sure. Islander born and bred. His boyfriend— partner, I guess, is too. I thought Cam might have left, though. Haven’t seen him for a few weeks. It’s kind of a volatile relationship.” The man shook his head. “Sorry, I do go on. I’m Aiden, anyway. It’s Will, right?”

“Um, yes? Have we met?”

“You don’t remember? I guess I did fill out a bit.” The guy smiled at him

Will smiled back. He didn’t want to be rude, but he was obviously being confused with someone else. The man had one of those faces that looked familiar, but Will knew he would have remembered anyone in his life who looked like
that
. Maybe he did catalogue work. Or had a tumblr dedicated to impromptu shots of him looking like an underwear model. It was certainly possible. It was ludicrous how sitting cross legged, in a gravel car park, in front of a potential crime scene, Aiden looked utterly unruffled, as if he were happily slumming it until his chilled Chablis and portable marquee arrived any minute now.

They sat together in silence while the RV mom spread a cheerfully-blue plastic tarp over the gray lot with its dark red embellishment. A few diners from the cafe drifted down to gawk. A lone police car drew up.

At length the old guy from the ferry came over. “The sailing will be delayed, I’m afraid. It’ll be a couple more hours. You might want to wait for tomorrow. You got somewhere to stay? There’s a couple of motels on the other side of town.”

“Oh.” Will was disappointed out of all proportion to the news. Suddenly the thought that the island was right there, so close, made it very difficult to consider turning around and going the other way. “Do the cops want to talk to me?”

“Nah. A lot of people saw what happened. A tragic accident.” The old guy wandered off again, walking over to talk to the hands from the ferry. A couple of them headed off up the road. To get dinner, maybe, Will thought.

“I was going to head off now, if you wanted to catch a lift with me,” said Aiden.

“Oh, my car’s just over there. I’m sure I can find the motel.” Lucky he’d brought a book. Proust would definitely last for longer than an evening.

“Oh, no, a lift to the island.”

“Really?”

There was no way to keep the hope out of his voice. Aiden nodded towards the near end of the wharf, and Will spied a sleek blue runabout, twenty-five or thirty feet long. A tiny yellow inflatable was lashed to the foredeck.

“You live over there?”

“Off and on. But I’m running over tonight, anyway, if you want a lift. Where are you going?”

“Oh. I don’t even know. Hang on.” Will loped over to the ferry where the old guy was helping a red-headed man stow parcels and pallets. “Excuse me. Where was I going? Where is the Bennett place?”

“Swansea Bay. You going over with Aiden?”

Will felt a surge of relief. “Yeah. You know him? So he’s not a murderer then?”

The two men laughed. “Oh, you’re safe enough with
him
. Even though he’s not an islander. Gonna build houses over there, he is. Good luck to him.”

“Well . . . I’m going to get a lift over with him. So, don’t wait for me later. Thank you though.”

“No refunds!” the old guy piped.

“Oh, okay.”

“Be seeing you, then.” The men chuckled as they resumed their work.

Will grabbed his bag, and walked back over to Aiden. “Swansea Bay, apparently. That okay?”

“Sure. It’s not too far from me.”

Aiden jumped aboard, holding his arm out to give Will a hand climbing down from the wharf. Will stumbled as the boat rocked slightly under his weight, and Aiden grasped him around the waist for a second, steadying him before he found his balance. Will clutched at Aiden, his breath coming in panicked gasps. Aiden’s hands were warm and gentle.

“Woah, are you all right?”

Will shut his eyes and shook his head.

“What’s up?”

“I’m just . . . I have issues with deep water. Any water, really.”

“Would you like to wait? Take the ferry?”

Will
wanted
to get off, but something in him, suppressed for years, desperate and needy, was so close to the surface now, he couldn’t make himself say it. If it was a choice between putting up with the trip across, and staying here, well, there wasn’t a choice. He shook his head.

“Look, let’s tuck you down here, all right?”

There were boxes stacked in the cabin and along the sides of the cockpit. Aiden found a gap for Will and his bag, and sat him down out of the wind, where Will didn’t have to look at the water. Aiden started the engine with a push of a button, untied the lines from the wharf, and gently put her into gear. The men on the wharf by the ferry each raised a hand in a casual goodbye, and watched as they gently puttered down the river. It was a relief to round the bend and let the scene at the tiny harbor drift into memory.

Tall poplars full of spring foliage grew right up to the steep riverbank. Aiden kept a low speed.

“The guys from the ferry said you were building houses over there?”

“Yep. I bought some land a few years ago, and I’ve just subdivided it. You should come by and have a look.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll be here very long. Just the weekend.” He wondered at that himself. What was he hoping for? Was it an apology he wanted? Did he want to ask Parker to take him back?

“Well, it’s an open invitation. It’s on Sandpiper Point.”

Will shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t know the island.”

Aiden narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure?”

Will smiled. “Yes, I’m pretty sure. I’ve never been here before.”

“Oh, sorry. You look like someone I used to know. My mistake.”

The river abruptly widened and the open sea was before them.

“You still okay there?”

Will nodded.

“I’m going to open her up now. It’ll be kind of loud. Tap out if you want me to slow down or stop.”

The engine’s grumble was too loud for casual conversation, but to Will’s relief the motion of the boat was actually smoother now. They skimmed over the waves, through them, no longer being rocked up and down. The occasional splash sent a fine wisp of spray flying along the side, but Will sat warm and safe in his niche. He enjoyed looking at Aiden, a smile on the big man’s face, moving his body slightly to compensate for the boat’s movement.

Will searched Aiden’s profile, trying to place him. Maybe he did know him. Something about Aiden’s face definitely looked familiar. Aiden turned his head and caught Will looking at him. He smiled at him as if they shared a secret. Will couldn’t help himself returning it.

“Hey, we’ve got visitors,” said Aiden. He throttled back, and brought the boat to a standstill.

“What? Fuck, what? What’s wrong?”

Aiden knelt down and grabbed Will’s hand.

“Hey, it’s okay. Just come and have a look, all right?”

Aiden coaxed him to his feet. Ahead in the west the sun was touching the highest point of the island, balanced perfectly, ready to sink behind it. A splash echoed about ten feet off the starboard side. Will flinched, but Aiden held him fast against his strong, warm side.

“Look.”

A dark arc, a lithe, muscular segment of a circle, rose out of the choppy water surrounding the boat, and sliced back down. A gasping spray, and another slice of steel, this time with a wide flat tail powering it back down into the ocean. Dolphins. Dozens of wild dolphins cavorted around the boat. Will took a step closer to the edge. Aiden went to release him, but Will grabbed for his hand in reassurance. A smooth shiny melon rose out of the dark water with a squee and a wet release of breath. Will startled, and Aiden clasped his hands around him. Will sank back against him, sharing their heat.

A dolphin leapt out of the water, so close Will thought for a second it would land on the deck. “Look!” he said, pointing.

He could feel Aiden’s smile against the side of his head.

“I see,” said Aiden. “Aren’t they amazing?”

The splashing was behind them now, and Aiden swung him around to see the pod moving slowly off to the south. Will couldn’t stop grinning. He turned his head to look at Aiden, so happy to be sharing the moment with someone. They watched until Will wasn’t sure if he could still see them, or if it was just the whirling seabirds. He abruptly realized how close he was to Aiden, and pulled away regretfully, settling himself back in his seat.

“Almost there,” said Aiden.

Will nodded, and tucked his head in against the cool evening. Now the sun was behind the island it was getting colder, even though he was out of the wind.

The main harbor ran like a gash down the center of the island, like an egg with a crack in it. It was long, and narrow enough to swim across, even for a mediocre swimmer. Dozens of shallow bays lined each side, interspersed with high promontories. Aiden cut the speed back so that Will could hear him.

He pointed to port.

“That’s me, in there. You can’t miss it. I’m starting to build a wharf. We’re putting the pilings in next weekend.”

Will nodded. They continued up the harbor, to the very tip, where it separated into two deep v-shaped bays, the water dark yellow from the mud beneath the shallow water.

“Well, this is you,” said Aiden, bringing his boat into a well-built jetty. Will blanched at the sight of the plastic garden mesh on the wharf steps, presumably to stop feet slipping. If well-seasoned islanders needed extra grip it did not bode well for him, in his suede Tod’s high-tops.

“It’s lucky I found you,” said Aiden.

“I don’t believe in luck.”

“You should give it a try some time.”

Will shook Aiden’s hand. The fingers were warm and comfortable against his. Will suddenly wished he had a reason to beg off, but he didn’t want to live with the anxious gnawing still lodged deep under his skin.

“Thank you,” was all he could think of to say.

Aiden helped him up, and then with a wave he was pulling away, disappearing into the gloom. Will wondered if he was imagining the regret in Aiden’s eyes.