Island of First Light

Brief Excerpt

... Freddy strode from one end of the wrap-around porch to the other and studied the sky. In the west-northwest rode Jupiter and Mars, both near the horizon, and a little higher, Venus. The moon, fat and full, glided high above Snagged Anchor Island to the southeast. ...He sat in his rocker, lit his new pipe, and started to rock. "Now ain't that beautiful?" he said to Caitlin, pointing the stem of his meerschaum toward the moon. 

She was sitting in her customary rocker, the one Agnes used to use, and rocking in unison with him. He was happy to see her in such a good mood after working so hard the last several days writing something.

"It sure is," she replied. "You know, it will soon be the fifteenth night of the moon. Many societies have special celebrations on this night...."

... Freddy said, only, "Eyuh." His chair creaked as he slowly rocked, struggling to find an appropriate answer. Goldang, he thought, she could talk on something awful once you wound her up. It was good.... 

Then Caitlin leaned toward him and said, “You know, Freddy, all I want is five hundred pounds and a room of my own.”

For a long time he thought about that, but could make no sense of it. “Eyuh,” he said. “Five hundred pounds of what?”

Caitlin laughed. “No, no. I mean British pounds…money. I suppose that’s two or three thousand dollars.”

“Well if that’s what you want, why didn’t you say, ‘I need two or three thousand dollars’? Why confuse the issue?”

“I was only speaking metaphorically.”

He knew what she meant, but he thought he’d make a joke because he didn’t know what else to say. “That something like in church?”

Again she laughed. How he loved to hear her laughter. Agnes, when they had first met, had a laugh like that. But it disappeared over the years.

“Never mind, Freddy,” she said. “It’s not important.”

“It’s important to me if it’s important to you.”

She smiled at him. “You’re sweet.”

“I have it if you need it.”

“What?”

“The two or three thousand dollars. It’s yours if you need it.”

“But I wasn’t asking you for money.”

“I have no use for it anyway,” he said. That old pain, like something clawing at his insides, hit him. He’d never touched the money he got from the insurance company for their boat after it ran up on String of Pearls and Jimmy died. Somehow there never seemed to be a right use for it. This was the first time he’d found something for which he would be willing to use the money; help Caitlin find whatever it was she was looking for.

Caitlin placed a hand on his wrist. It roused a vestigial pleasure in him. “Freddy, now listen to me. I was only quoting Virginia Woolf. It’s what she said about the things a woman needs in order to write.”

Freddy felt the conversation slipping away from him. He suspected Caitlin was trying to tell him something but was being indirect about it. Sometimes it had been like that with Agnes. It was a thing about women, he supposed. “Don’t know Virginia Woolf. Know a Trevor Wolf. Sailor over to Jonesport who sailed around the world.” It was all he could think to say.

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