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Chapter Twenty-Five
Good evening, my dear islanders!
We’ve got a big bit of congratulations in order this fine evening. Deb and Gage Breene are the proud new parents of a ring-necked conure! The new squawky baby comes in at just shy of 3 ounces and joins his big brother, Howard the Newfoundland, and big sister, Josephine the kitty. I could be wrong, but it sounds like there’s a food chain going on in their house. Hmm.
In other news, it appears Ms. Toni Swenson of Tiny Tykes Daycare received a ton of extra pipe cleaners and glitter. Due to space constraints, she’s setting up an afternoon of mom/dad/kiddo crafting and is looking for a weigh-in on dates. If glitter is illegal in your household, keep on scrolling.
Oh, our resident cop, Jay, and our fine heroes at the fire company, Teagan, Chris, Jennifer, and Raymond, want to remind you about the whole drinking and driving thing. They don’t want a repeat of last year, when … well, maybe this person should remain nameless—you know who you are—got too happy and parked their car in the fountain of the square. Get a designated driver, or just be jolly at home, people. You should know better.
And last, but certainly not least, If any of you missed Salty’z first ever karaoke night, you missed a night of fun and lots of off-key singing attempts. Even our local cryptid, Klahanie Bishop, got in on the act, albeit briefly, when she joined a girl group featuring Dani Whiting, and Dr. Helen Osmond, our village vet, belting out a somewhat pleasant rendition of “Dancing Queen,” a song only acceptable in such settings. Pretty sure it’s illegal otherwise. I understand the evening wound up with a bar-wide rendition of “Sweet Caroline.” Feel free to send me your recordings of everyone’s drunken warbles, and I’d be happy to pass along the talent…
The DJ followed up island news with “Friends in Low Places,” from Garth Brooks.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The Sanctuary eclipsed most of the land along the coast south of Noah’s place. From the trailhead, the hike wove its way through thick forest, before it looped around and offered a view about 50 feet above the coastline. The lowest tier of the path brought hikers next to the lapping waterline, popular during summer, deserted otherwise.
We edged our way down to the second tier where trees took a backseat to wheat-colored wild grass, rocky terrain, and the open expanse of Puget Sound. About 150 feet off the coast, a collection of boulders often attracted seals and sea lions who wintered in the area, while seagulls dove and shrieked year-round.
“There!” Noah pointed, and I lifted a hand to block out the white glare of a bright, late autumn sun to focus on the shift of color and movement. A moment later, several Steller sea lions revealed themselves against the camouflage of the rocky coast. Huge animals, a few of their gruff barks and grunts punched through the steady roar of ocean swells.
The Sanctuary had always been Noah’s quiet place, especially when his mom and stepfather would argue. As teenagers, I knew if he wasn’t home, there was a strong chance he’d be here, sitting on the boulder where we now sat, and watching the frenetic movement of the ocean, and any critters that chose to make their appearance known. It hadn’t even been uncommon for him to grab his camping gear, and disappear into the nearby woods.
“Look. We even have some loons looking for lunch.” Noah nodded down toward the waterline. Sure enough, there were a couple of the elegant birds paddling and diving. One surfaced, gulping something it had speared with its impressive dagger disguised as a beak.
We sat next to one another, touching, but not pressing, while seagulls floated on the air currents in front of us, diving down toward the water, but avoiding the loons. Seagulls never struck me as the smartest of birds, but that particular behavior seemed wise. Loons could be vicious.
“Seems like your walls are coming down, Klahanie.”
I turned to find Noah looking at me. “Maybe. I’m not sure yet.”
He nodded, and turned his gaze back toward the ocean. “You said you didn’t want to hurt me that day in the clearing.”
“Yes.”
“But, here we are, together again.”
I said nothing, choosing to study passing ferries in the distance. Both sounded their melancholy horns in tepid greeting. My being here with him was a tribute to the push and pull I’d felt for weeks.
Noah took my hands, my chilly flesh warmed by his. “I know this wasn’t part of your plan. I get that. But I’m going to admit something to you, and I hope it doesn’t sound creepy.”
“I’m sure it will, Mr. DJ.” I smiled at him, knowing it was strained. He didn’t smile back.
“I’m not sure if you remember, but the very first time I saw you was when your gram registered you for school. I was sitting in the office, waiting to talk to Principal Mokrey because I’d thrown wet, wadded paper towels at the ceiling in the bathroom.”
“Shame on you.”
“They’d stuck quite nicely, too, if I remember right. I’d even added a little bit of tempera paint for contrast.”
“No one appreciated your artistic vision, I gather.”
“No, they weren’t open to the experience, but that’s not the point. My point is I saw the most beautiful dark haired little girl, with the biggest blue eyes I’d ever seen. You huddled close to your grandmother, barely acknowledging anyone else. You did look right at me once, though. Even as a little kid, I saw such sadness in your eyes, and I felt your pain on almost a visceral level.”
I remembered that day. In a haze of emotions overwhelming and incomprehensible to a small child, I’d made eye contact with a cute little boy with gentle brown eyes. There’d been something calming about him, but I’d been so scared and confused, my attention had wavered. My parents had been buried less than two weeks prior.
“I got called in for my scolding, and when I got out, you’d disappeared.” He squeezed my hands. “When I got back to class, and found you sitting at my table, I knew I’d been given a gift. I just didn’t realize to what extent.”
“I do remember,” I couldn’t bring my voice above a whisper, my throat rough and constricted.
