never find out.
When they returned to the front porch, they untied Dexter’s legs and dragged him
up to his bedroom. Dexter fought hard. He squirmed and jerked; he tried hard to pull
away from them with all the strength he had. But these young men were strong, and about
ten years younger than Dexter. The one with the dark hair leaned in, licked Dexter’s neck
and said, “If you care about that sweet little girl sleeping in her bed right now, you won’t
make a sound.”
Dexter’s body went still. Brighton’s face flashed before his eyes and he nodded
yes.
The dark-haired guy put his hand down Dexter’s shorts and squeezed his ass. He
smelled like he hadn’t showered in weeks, like raw onions, sauerkraut, and an assorted
cheese platter. “You just spread those pretty legs for us, and everything will be just fine.”
Dexter tried to speak; he mumbled as fast as he could. He wanted to tell them
he’d do anything they wanted if they left Brighton alone. His eyes opened wide and he
nodded again.
When they were in Dexter’s bedroom, they tied his arms to the bedpost. The one
with light hair pulled off his shorts and his running shoes; the one with dark hair ripped
his tank top off. Dexter closed his eyes; he was stark naked. He clenched his fists and
took deep breaths through his nose. And when the dark-haired guy pulled his dick out of
his pants, Dexter’s body began to tremble. He knew what they were going to do to him.
But his one concern at that moment was that the bedroom door was wide open. He didn’t want Brighton to wake up and see what was happening. He wasn’t sure what they would
do to her if she did wake up.
Dexter tired to motion with his head. He jerked it toward the bedroom door and
softly mumbled something incoherent. He was trying to say, “Close the door.” But they
weren’t paying attention. They both had their penises out now, and both were fully erect.
The one with dark hair rubbed his against Dexter’s naked thigh and said, “You’re gonna
like this, baby. We’ve been watching that hot ass jog down the street. We know you want
it bad, baby.”
When the one with the lighter hair rubbed his dick against Dexter’s naked hip, a
soft cry came from the other end of the house. “Dad, I had a bad dream,” Brighton
shouted. Her distant voice sounded fragile and apprehensive.
The dark-haired guy looked at the other guy and said, “You go take care of her
while I get him ready for you.” He sucked in his bottom lip and said to Dexter, “I’m
gonna split that pretty ass wide open, baby. I’m going to get you ready for my buddy.”
Then he bent down and licked the small of Dexter’s back. “You like that, don’t you?”
The light-haired guy stared down at Dexter’s naked body and grinned, then turned
toward the open door and said, “I’ll shut her up. I’ll be right back.”
But just as he reached the doorway, a strong gust of wind passed through the
room. It blew his light brown hair forward and slammed the door shut. He stood there for
a moment and stared. He turned back to the dark-haired guy and said, “What the fuck was
that?”
The one with dark hair didn’t get a chance to answer, because one of the wing
chairs rose from the floor, sailed across the room, and knocked into his body. He fell back on the bed and shook his head. Then the other wing chair went up and crashed into
him.
The guy standing near the door shouted, “Did you see that? Those fucking chairs
just lifted up by themselves. I’m getting the fuck out of here.” He reached for the door
knob and tried to open the door. He pulled and tugged, the handles went clockwise and
counter clockwise but the door would not open. “It’s not locked. I can’t open it. It’s stuck
or something.”
Dexter heard sirens racing down Commercial Street. He heard Marion run
upstairs and he heard Cleo barking. Marion shouted, “I called the police, Mr. Moore.
They are on their way right now. I’m going to lock myself in the bedroom with
Brighton.”
The two men looked at each other and panicked. The dark-haired one said, “The
window.”
When they ran to the front window, a large antique high boy jumped out from the
wall and fell on top of them. They didn’t know what hit them; there hadn’t been time to
avoid it. The high boy knocked them both out cold and pinned them to the floor.
Dexter was still tied to the bedpost. He heard the police cars pull up on the front
lawn and he saw flashing lights in the window. He looked down at the men unconscious
and pinned beneath the high boy.
When he looked up again, Captain Lang was standing in front of him. Lang untied
his hands and removed the gag from his mouth. He pulled Dexter into his body and held
him as tight as he could. “You’re okay,” he said. “Everything is fine. I told you you’d
always be safe in this house.” “I thought you were gone,” Dexter said. There were tears in his eyes and one
rolled down the side of his face. He rested his head on Lang’s chest and tried to catch his
breath.
“I’ve been here all the time,” Lang said. “I’ve just been very quiet, Dexter.”
Dexter heard someone force the front door open. A man’s voice shouted, “This is
the police. We are armed.”
Then Marion shouted, “We’re upstairs. Please help us.”
Captain Lang stepped back. “Put your pants on. You don’t want them to find you
naked. You’re a celebrity.”
Dexter looked into his eyes and said, “Are you going to disappear again?”
Captain Lang tilted his head and smiled. “No,” he said. “I’m back for as long as
you want me. I love you too much to ever leave you again.” He shrugged his shoulders.
“Maybe it’s a mistake. But my love for you is too strong to ignore, Dexter.”
Dexter smiled and reached down to the floor for his shorts. He hadn’t heard Lang
speak his name in a long time. “And I love you.”
* * * *
Later that night when the police were gone and the two guys were in custody,
Marion and Dexter both put Brighton back to bed. When she was settled and they were
on their way back to their rooms, Marion stopped in the hall and said, “Mr. Moore,
you’re going to think I’ve totally lost my mind. But I have to tell you this. When I was
tied up, I actually felt the ropes slip from my hands and ankles by themselves. I have no
idea how it happened. But that’s how I was able to call the police. And I have no idea how Cleo got out of the trunk of the car. I know they locked him in there. I heard them do
it. There’s something strange about this house. But in a good way, not a bad way.”
Dexter smiled and ran his hand across the back of his head. “I know exactly what
you mean, Marion. I feel the same way.”
Then he left her in the hallway and went back to his own bedroom. When he
opened the door, the wing chairs were in front of the fireplace and the highboy was back
against the wall. The room looked perfect. But more than that, Captain Lang was lying in
the middle of his bed. He was wearing his sea captain uniform. The cap was tilted down
and his feet were crossed at the ankle. He smiled at Dexter and reached out with both
arms. “I’d like to hold you in my arms for the rest of your life, Dexter, if that’s okay with
you. But I don’t want to rob you of the normal life you deserve. I couldn’t do that to
you.”
Dexter smiled and took a deep breath. “You’re not robbing me. Don’t you see that?
I don’t care about going to restaurants with you, or taking vacations with you, or the fact
that my life won’t be traditional. I only care about being with you for the rest of my life,
and living here in Keel Cottage. You’re not robbing me of anything. You’ll be giving me
what I’ve always wanted.” He crawled into Captain Lang’s open arms. He rested his head
on Lang’s chest and whispered, “All you have to do is promise to love me as much as I
love you. Nothing else really matters in the end.”
“That’s the one thing you’ll never have to worry about, Dexter,” Lang said. “I’ve
been in love with you since the day you walked into this house, and that’s never going to
change.”
Chapter Nineteen
On Dexter’s ninetieth birthday, Brighton drove to the Cape from Northampton. It
was a sunny afternoon in late May. A light breeze was blowing in from the bay and the
air smelled salty and fresh, with hints of impending summertime.
It was still cool and Dexter was wearing a heavy tweed jacket. He was sitting on
the porch so he’d know when they arrived. This was one of those times he missed Cleo
most of all. If Cleo had still been alive, he would have barked when someone pulled into
the driveway, and Dexter would have been able to wait inside the house where it was
warmer. He’d thought about getting another dog after Cleo died. But he knew it wouldn’t
be the same. Cleo had lived to be twenty-one years old and he’d died in his sleep. Dexter
had buried him behind Keel Cottage in the middle of a small rose garden.
Brighton was coming with her husband, Jasper. She had three grown children of
her own, and four grandchildren. She was an English professor at Smith College, the
same college where she’d received all of her own degrees.
When she pulled into the driveway at Keel Cottage, Dexter stood up from his
favorite wicker chair on the front porch and smiled. He was proud of his daughter and of
all her accomplishments. She could have gone into show business. With his contacts and
Michael’s contacts, it wouldn’t have been difficult to establish a career in Hollywood.
But she’d decided early on that she wanted to teach. Whenever he thought about the fact
that she’d gone to Smith, he couldn’t stop smiling. Dexter liked her husband, Jasper, too. They had been married for more than thirty
years. Jasper owned a large hardware store near Smith, a family business that was more
than one hundred years old. They’d met while Brighton had been studying for her
undergraduate degree.
Dexter reached for his cane and started walking down the steps to meet them on
the lawn. But Captain Lang said, “Wait for them here, Dexter. You’re not good with
steps. Let them come to you. You don’t want to fall and break a hip.” He still looked the
same as he did the day he’d first appeared to Dexter.
“I know how to walk down a small flight of steps, thank you,” Dexter said. His
hair was white, his body was thin and frail, and he tended to stoop forward when he used
a cane. His face had wrinkles and his eyeglasses were thick. But he was just as
determined as he’d always been. He gave Captain Lang a look, tapped the cane against
the rail, and said, “I think I’m capable of crossing the front lawn to meet my own
daughter.” As he’d grown older, he’d become stubborn.
Captain Lang rubbed his jaw and smiled. “Don’t talk to me,” he said. “They will
think you’ve gone senile if they see you talking to no one.”
Dexter laughed and said, “At my age, I couldn’t care less what anyone thinks.
And if I want to talk to the man I love, I will.” Then he smiled at Captain Lang and
winked.
By the time he turned around again, Brighton and Jasper were at the bottom of the
stairs. She looked up at him and smiled. “Happy Birthday, Dad.” Then she climbed the
steps and kissed him on the cheek. Dexter shook Jasper’s hand and said, “Let’s go inside and wait for the others to
arrive. I had the housekeeper prepare coffee in the living room.”
This birthday celebration had been Brighton’s idea. She’d invited Dexter’s old
friends: Michael, Elliot, and James Campbell. There weren’t many friends left. But the
most important ones were still around. They were all going out to dinner at Dexter’s
favorite restaurant in Provincetown. Michael had already arrived from the West Coast
and was walking around in town. Elliot only lived a few blocks away. And James
Campbell had moved to Provincetown when he’d retired from publishing twenty years
earlier. He lived up on the east end.
When they went into the house, a pleasant young woman with long brown hair
greeted them in the hallway and told them she’d bring the coffee into the living room.
Dexter smiled and thanked her, without using her name. He called her “Dear.” Captain
Lang was standing near the staircase. He shook his head and smiled. “You forgot her
name again, Dexter, didn’t you?”
Dexter smiled at Brighton and ignored Lang. “Let’s go into the living room. The
housekeeper will take care of everything.”
Captain Lang said, “Her name is
Judy
