Strawberries in the Sea (16 page)

She asked him if he wanted to go to haul with her, but he preferred to finish repairing the roof and then go back to Sou'west Point to try some watercolors. He walked down to the wharf with her in the sunrise. The sky had the porcelain-fine translucent blush of a weather-breeder.

When she was putting on her boots and oil pants, Edwin stood contemplating the cultch in the fishhouse. She took his arm and shook her head at him. “Don't touch it. Go ahead and paint. When you're famous I can say I helped.”

He smiled and lightly squeezed the nape of her neck.

There was no one else out yet on this side of the harbor, but across on the other side Barry Barton and Terence Campion were talking as they rowed side by side to their moorings. By hurrying she got out of the harbor first, and headed around Eastern Harbor Point up Long Cove, singing as the sun rose above the woods. Going to work this way was pure indulgence, giving herself an extra sail, since most of her gear was well down along the southern side. The swell had subsided since yesterday, except for the boisterous play around the ledges and the constant rough action below the Head.
Sea Star
took them with insolent grace.

When Rosa finished hauling in Pump Cove and came out around Windward Point, Owen Bennett's
White Lady
was just leaving Schoolhouse Cove. He was at the wheel, a big man without fat like all the Bennetts, but the darkest she'd seen so far. He waved, smiling. His young son wildly swung both arms. The helper, who had a long bob and neat bangs, was more moderate in his salutations.

Goose Cove was shut off by a line of bright orange net floats across its narrow mouth. No wonder the boys were late starting out this morning. Amiably she wished them well. She had three traps in Goose Cove but they could wait. She went on toward Schooner Head, still the only boat out here. She anchored to her next trap and had a cup of coffee. There were just gentle swells now; the light surf broke without hostility on the rocks, withdrew and returned the way a cat's paws worked on a hospitable thigh as he purred himself to sleep.

She tested herself by imagining Seal Point at this hour. It was clear enough but with only one dimension; something seen on film, nothing to touch her or be touched by her. Con had been able to rent a boat to go hauling in, Edwin had told her, but since she didn't know the boat she couldn't visualize Con working. Daringly she summoned up the picture that had always threatened to split her brain in two: Con and Phyllis in bed together. But she lost her daring when she felt the sweat starting out on her neck and forehead and a faint squeamishness in her gut.

You're not clear yet, you chump, she told herself contemptuously. You never will be. Admit it.

She had her last ten traps to the west of the bell off the southern tip of the island, and she was hauling there when she saw Jamie Sorensen heading for her, smashing through the surge and throwing white water like a breaking ledge. He slowed a little distance from her, but still came on fast enough, with his gaff out to fend her off.

“What's the matter, warden?” she called across to him. “You want to underrun my gear?”

“Feeling pretty damn good, aren't you? Moved right in and settled down.” He gave her the hard blue stare she had come to expect from him.

“Look,” she said reasonably, “I never crossed your net this morning and bothered your herring. And you can't be jealous of what I'm making out of forty traps.”

“I couldn't care less about your traps. The first good blow you're likely to lose the whole gang anyway. They're too light for out here.”

“Well, look happier about it,” she urged. “Rejoice.” She reached out to unhook his gaff from the guard rail, and he said menacingly, “Wait a minute! Just look up there by the Devil's Den.” He pointed with his free hand toward the island.

She looked too, but not very hard. “I don't know where the Devil's Den is from here. Is Old Nick up there in person, doing a jig?”

“You can see two people on the skyline, can't you?” he snapped.

Edwin was unmistakeable. She'd know his long silhouette anywhere. He stood with his hands in his pockets at the very brink of the rock. Linnea was a little distance behind him. From this distance her long hair looked almost white. Rosa waved energetically but neither responded, and she realized they were looking toward Matinicus Rock.

She turned back to Jamie. He was staring up at the two on the cliffs, and she was astonished by the passionate rage he couldn't, or wouldn't, hide. “What are you so mad about?” she asked in wonder.

“Does he know she's only seventeen? And she's so damned impressionable—she doesn't
fall
, she
crashes
. What in hell is he up to?” he demanded. “Ever since he's been on the island she's been crazy as a coot. She's been pretty cute about hiding it, but last night she gave herself away. Matt Fennell came in and just mentioned that Webster went by their house on the way to the cemetery, and in about two minutes flat she was out the back door and taking the short cut. Left her friend behind.”

“You mean she was chasing
Edwin?
” Rosa played up her incredulity. “How do you know? Did Vic tell you? Or did you see them together last night?”

“Nobody told me anything, and I didn't see anything. I went out to look for herring.”

“How many do you think you've got?” she asked chattily.

“I'm not talking about herring this morning. I'm talking about
that
.” He looked again, squinting as if the sight seared his eyeballs like the sun.

“What is there to talk about besides the fact that they're standing about twenty-five feet apart on the tip end of Bennett's Island?”

“That's twenty-five feet too close. Now, either they made a date last night, or she chased him down here, and I don't like it.”

She made a genuine attempt to reassure him. “Look, I don't believe they made a date. Edwin never has been interested in young girls, and, besides, he's got a lot of things on his mind right now.”

“I'll bet he has.”

She ignored that. “And if she did follow him down there, or met him by accident, she couldn't be any safer unless she was at home with Big Brother. He's probably ignoring her like mad, and that's pretty easy for a deaf man to do.”

“Listen. I know a little something about men, being one myself. And I haven't lived all my life on this island, in case you think Seal Point is the Big World. I was four years in the Navy.”

“And saw the world.”

“Yeah, I did,” he said belligerently. “A hell of a lot of it, too. But I didn't have to go into the Navy to know that most guys who have something the matter with them, well, they think they've been cheated, they've been done dirty somehow, and it makes them—” He tapped his temple.

She felt her anger beginning and tried for a pressure point. She spoke gently. “You mean because Edwin's deaf he's not right in the head?” Then it slipped out. “What's
your
excuse?”

“You know what I mean, goddamit! I remember him from way back. He used to get these rages. He's your cousin, you ought to know.” He stared accusingly at her.

“He hasn't had one of those rages for a long time,” she said. “It was because he was so frustrated—he couldn't communicate, and nobody could reach him. That's ancient history now.” She remembered the other night's rage, but ignored it. “You ought to know, one of your aunts was the teacher who found out what was the matter with him. And he was only a little boy then.”

“Yeah? Well, he's a grown man now, and she's a schoolkid. I haven't chased a schoolkid since I was one myself!”

“I thought you said
she
was chasing him.”

“She wouldn't without encouragement.”

“You don't know much about girls, do you? Lots about herring, but very little about women.”

His blush deepened, which she hadn't thought possible. His ears were fiery. He seemed beyond words.

“Look,” she said severely. “I like Linnie. I like the other girls too. But I didn't ask them to my house in the first place. Now if you don't want your sister having any contact with my cousin, why don't you tell your folks to keep her on a leash until Edwin leaves? He'll appreciate that, if she's being a nuisance. Which she probably is.”

She turned from him and put her engine in gear. “You'd better let go,” she called back to him, “unless you want to be towed straight at the bell.”

He took back his gaff. This time she was the first one away, giving
Sea Star
her head and leaving Jamie in the wash. She ran directly east toward the surf piling on Sou'west Point. As she turned to go up the west side toward the harbor, she saw Jamie going off toward the south, as usual not favoring the boat. On Sou'west Point nothing human now stood against the sky. There were only the gulls circling like skaters at an ice rink.

She was shaky with delayed rage, but by the time she reached the harbor she had calmed down. She was still indignant about Jamie's view of Edwin, but Jamie as an over-protective and domineering older brother would have been upset no matter who the man was.

He had a hard life ahead of him, she thought patronizingly. If there wasn't a war on when he woke up in the morning, he went out and started one.

The mailboat had left, but there were still some children around the wharf when she sold her lobsters. Vic and Holly were alongside the car in a skiff, fishing for pollack.

“Where's your sidekick this morning?” Rosa asked Vic.

“She went off somewhere to get a start on her summer reading list.” Vic leaned so far over the side of the skiff her nose almost touched the water. “Are those sea anemones under the float? Opening and closing like that?”

“Ayuh.” Holly was busy chopping up a corned herring for bait. Vic continued to be so fascinated by the sea anemones that she couldn't converse face to face with Rosa. Her muffled voice came up. “Are they really animals, I wonder?”

Maybe Linnie
was
chasing Edwin. Well, she was safe enough, and before long she'd get tired of being ignored. There must be boys over at Brigport, even if she was related to most of those on Bennett's.

At home, eating a hard-boiled egg and drinking non-fat milk, Rosa achieved an objective irony. Her relatives had worried about her being entrapped by Con; she suffered because Con lost his head about Phyllis. There was the woman in Edwin's sketchbook to give her cause to worry about
him
, and Jamie Sorensen was running scared about his kid sister hurling herself at Edwin. But who was concerned about Jamie?

Maybe he's the brightest one of us all, she thought. Chasing herring.

Edwin came home in mid-afternoon with a good collection of sketches and watercolor studies. In one of them a girl crouched over a tide pool; it was hardly more than a few lines, but the long flowing hair indicated Linnie.

“Did you have company down there, or was that a hallucination?” she wrote.

“Real enough,” he wrote back. “But maybe I'm a hallucination to
her
. Her family all talk so much she can't believe in a man who doesn't.”

They both laughed. She was tempted to tell him about Jamie, but instinct warned her off; he mightn't find it so funny after all. She hadn't, at the first of it.

They took a walk to the Eastern End in the final exquisite hours of daylight to see Mrs. Steve Bennett, who had discovered Edwin's deafness and arranged his first training. That night they played cribbage without liquor on the table. Linnie and Vic came to the house during the evening; Vic was even more fidgety than usual, and Linnie had an air of silent defiance.

“I don't suppose you'll be playing and singing tonight,” Vic said tentatively.

“If I don't give Edwin a chance to skunk me, he'll cut my throat.”

Vic laughed, but Linnie's face didn't change. She had done her hair up on top of her head, which brought out the faintly oblique set of her eyes and gave her a strongly Scandinavian look. She seemed taller and older, but it was like a child going from five to six; she was still a child. She kept her eyes fixed on Edwin as if she didn't care who noticed. Rosa was as uncomfortable as Vic, but Edwin serenely played cribbage as if no one were in the room but him and Rosa. After a while Linnie got up and walked out.

“Good night,” Vic said with a little nervous laugh, and went after her. Rosa followed to the door. She felt guilty of rudeness, even though she hadn't asked them to come.

“Another night we'll sing,” she said. “I was too tired tonight anyway.”

“Everybody's tired, including me.” There was an odd dullness about Vic. “Maybe we need a couple of rainy days. Everything's so beautiful I'm worn out.”

Beautiful
, including Jamie? Rosa almost asked it. Instead she said, “Linnie's disappeared.”

“That's all right, I can find my way. She's feeling grim. She had a scrap with Gorgeous George tonight. Out in the barn, in loud hisses. I don't know what it was about,” she added, probably untruthfully. “Night, Rosa. See you.”

T
he rain came in the night, and in the morning there was no wind and the air was warm; the showers had become so light they were hardly felt on the face and hands, softly dampening hair and silvering the nap of sweaters as they silvered the grass. Edwin wheeled trash from the house out to Barque Cove, and they burned it down on the wet dark stones at low tide. After the weather-breeder's prismatic colors, today's sea was dead gray to the horizon, and in the preternatural stillness the ducklings whispered and whistled. The air smelled of warm beach stones in the rain, and wet rockweed.

Against the pewter sea and black ledges, the fire transmuted rubbish into glory. Edwin stood leaning on a pole gazing into the flames, whose red light fluttered and shivered across his face. The voice of the fire drowned out the ducklings' sounds. Watching a fountain of sparks, Rosa remembered the saying about man being born to trouble as the sparks fly upward, and she saw again the woman in the sketchbook.