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I nod.
“I’m told by the crew that the waves are picking up again.”
“I understand.”
And still…it’s near impossible to imagine what fate awaits me.
At half past three, nearly the entire village gathers outside the café to shout goodbye. I’m fighting tears and losing as Anna and Kayti, Freddy, Holly, and Dot walk Charles Carnegie and I to the dock, where we find Mark Glass waiting with three trunks of my belongings—and dear Baby. She’s wearing a lappy, her bow collar, and a leash. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a sight more beautiful.
I can’t help weeping as I squish wee Kayti and inhale her lovely baby scent. I was there when she was born. Now I’ll miss most of her life. Anna’s eyes well as I pass sweet Kayti back into her arms.
I hug Holly again. “Don’t forget to write me,” she says.
“I’ll send all sorts of trinkets,” I promise.
Freddy and Mark Glass load my trunks into the largest of the island’s fishing boats. Anna steps in, followed by Dot and Charles Carnegie. He holds his arms out for Baby, and I smile a bit as I hand her over. Then I’m in a padded seat. I’m holding Baby as Mark fires the motors up, and soon we’re off.
It’s a large boat. Perfectly safe, I tell myself. I stroke Baby’s soft head as my belly quivers with each swell that lifts the boat up toward the white sky. Dot rubs my back, and Anna smiles like a doting mum. After all that’s happened, she seems genuinely pleased for me—which brings me enormous peace.
My eyes well again as my yellow and blue chariot comes into clearer view.
“Someday I’ll come get you in a plane and take you to get tacos.”
“You can’t land a plane here. There’s no air strip.”
“Not all planes need landing strips.”
“I want a glimpse inside,” Dot says to Anna.
The odd contraption’s called an Albatross. I’m told it floats like a boat and flies like a plane. When I first spoke to Mr. Carnegie by phone last week, he explained we won’t be making any stops en route to Cape Town. We’ll be airborne for some four hours and twenty minutes. I don’t think of what will occur after. One thing at a time for me, beginning with the tethering of our fishing boat to the sleek Albatross.
A door on the plane’s side opens, and, with great care, we file inside. It smells like leather and fine things and flowers, and it looks like something from a magazine. I spot bunk beds carved into one of the walls, a table sporting a yellow bouquet with an anchored vase, and a sleek screen displaying urban images as crisp as those on Declan’s phone. The floor is short, tan carpet. Hanging from the ceiling is a lamp that looks as if it’s made of crystal.
Two female crewmembers emerge from a dark hall-like space. They’re wearing crisp, navy blue uniforms and high-heels that draw Dot’s eye.
“Welcome aboard,” one says.
“Which one of you is Finley?”
I raise my hand, and from there they’re fussing over Baby and me, and I’m saying more goodbyes.
“Call immediately—the moment you land in America,” Dot murmurs.
“I demand a call tonight,” Anna says. “The very moment you reach Cape Town. I know you’ll fly out again nearly immediately, but please do call.” Anna’s face crumples, and that’s all it takes. I’m weeping as I cling to Baby, and slowly—and too quickly—the Albatross clears out.
Mr. Carnegie—Charles, he keeps insisting—offers me a tissue, and I wipe my eyes and try to smile kindly at the crewmembers. He shows me to the bottom bunk bed, and I find it’s piled high with pink pillows and soft-looking blankets. There’s a glossy screen in the wall beside it and a bucket of what’s perhaps snacks perched in a corner. I sit on the bed’s edge, and he hands me a bottle of water and a small pill.
I frown at it, and he gives me Declan’s smile, sans dimples. “It will only last a few hours. He wouldn’t hear of you being uncomfortable.”
Charles tells me how to work the TV and what movies it plays, but I don’t start a show. After we’re finished talking—he’s assured me I’m safe and the pill will only make me sleepy—I swallow it and curl over on my side. Baby hunkers down beside me. I cross myself, pull the soft covers over my shoulders, and before the plane leaves the water, my eyes close.
Nineteen
Finley
I awaken feeling…soft. And a bit thirsty. When I blink around the small, pastel-colored space, I feel a muted jolt of shock. I note the dull sound of an engine, and the way my bed bumps a small bit, and my belly clenches with fear.
Oh, what have I done?
