Dark Beach

TWO





“This is so good.”

“Oh yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Jenny leaned back in her chair, enjoying the moment. “I could do this every day: warm butter, lobster, ah.”

“What is it with this creature?” Ron put a juicy forkful of sweet lobster meat into his mouth, savored it, swallowed and then delicately dug for another. “I mean, why on Earth did people think they could ever eat this? Look at its claws and antennae? They look like mini-monsters—devil’s spawn. I guess it explains why this used to be food for the poor. Did you know it was used as fertilizer in some places?”

Jenny sat up. “I’m eating fertilizer?” she deadpanned.

“Yes.”

“Over-priced plant food! Thanks for ruining the moment.” Jenny put her fork down and fixed Ron with an exaggerated frown.

Ron took an even bigger bite. “Who knows what might be popular in ten, twenty, thirty years—dachshund?”

“Now, stop.” Jenny pointed her fork at her husband, and he pointed his back, laughing.

Kip, in the highchair next to her, giggled and went back to drowning her fries in a pool of ketchup.

“Would you care for another glass of wine, sir?” The waiter stood between them. Disregarding the fork-duel, he gestured to the two half-full wineglasses on the white-clothed table.

“Yes, yes. Same as before.”

“And you, ma’am?”

“Umm.”

“Oh, honey, come on! Have a glass of wine. Enjoy yourself—we’re on vacation.”

“Umm … well … okay.”

“Good, two glasses. She’ll have what I’m having, it complements the crustacean.”

Jenny sighed absentmindedly, thinking she’d have to pretend to sip it slowly.

“What?” Ron asked.

She composed herself. “Nothing.”

“Come on, I can tell something is on your mind. Out with it.”

“I have something to tell you.”

“I knew it. I knew it! You’ve been too quiet today.”

“I went to the doctor…”

Ron’s cell phone vibrated. Jenny could hear it buzzing against the chair. She paused, then said, “Go ahead, you can answer.”

“No. We’re at dinner. I don’t want to interrupt our first date out here.”

The phone kept trilling, demanding attention.

“God…” Ron opened it up. “It’ll be quick. I’ll be right back. I promise, honey. Promise.” Ron fumbled in his jacket pocket until he found the fancy electronic nuisance. “Hello?” he said, as he hurried away from the half-empty dining room and his beautifully dressed wife.

“Wine, ma’am.”

“Thanks.” She muttered under her breath, “I can’t believe he took the call.”

“Excuse me, ma’am?” The young, dark-haired waiter tried not to seem interested, but his eyes frankly assessed the attractive, petite woman in striking blue before him. She looked too good to ignore.

Jenny glanced up at him, thinking he looked as if he were genuinely sorry for her, which actually made her feel slightly better. She smirked slightly.

“Can I get you anything, ma’am?” He paused a little too long, but waited patiently.

“Yes. A dessert menu—that’ll do it.” She turned to Kip. “You want something sweet? I need something sweet,” then, under her breath, “with a hint of bitterness.”

“We only have sweet, I’m afraid,” said the waiter, who must have heard her.

“Fine, anything.”

Jenny stared at the swollen girth of the wineglass before her, the light streaming through the clear, yellow liquid. She ran her finger along the edge, sensing the slight imperfection along its lip. Then she knocked it over. It splashed a topaz streak across the table and wine dripped down onto the tiled floor.

“Oops.”

No one had even noticed.

The drive back to the beach house was silent. Ron was too distracted by the phone call; Jenny too relieved that his forgetfulness had prevented her from telling him her news. Kip was asleep in the back. She watched the sun dip down into the sky, sinking in oranges and pinks.

“Do you want to see the jetty? I love the jetty.” Ron pressed his foot harder on the accelerator.

“Now? But it’s windy and cold. What about Kip?”

“You can wear my coat. You’ll be toasty warm. I’ll be by your side and the sun is setting. And Kip will be fine in the car; she’s asleep anyway and we won’t go out of sight. I don’t want to miss a beach sunset.”

Jenny felt a twinge of fear. “As long as it doesn’t get dark.”

Closing the car, they hurried to a pile of gargantuan black rocks that stuck out into the water. Ron kicked off his shoes and socks, and Jenny bent down to ease off her heels.

“Look at it.” Ron grabbed her hand and pulled her to the ocean’s edge. She glanced the sun, and then back at the car. It was still; no one was around. She turned to the horizon again. The sun had almost hit the ocean, its colors intensifying, refracted through the clouds. They stood there, speechless, watching the ball of light vanish into the unknown.

“Do you want to climb up on the jetty?” Ron asked.

“I don’t think I can get out of it, can I?”

“Nope.”

He helped her up, onto the nearest behemoth rock, carefully climbing behind her and trying not to slip on the slick surface. Ocean spray surrounded them, its icy drops enlivening them.

“I’m soaked now. My dress!” Jenny complained, smoothing down the deep blue fabric. She peered towards the car again—still the same.

“Your dress is blue—what are you worried about? No one’s here but us.” Ron took a step towards her, lowered his head. “Live a little. You’re so worked up tonight.”

“I can’t help it. You took that work call at dinner.”

“I had to take it.”

“You always have to take it.” Losing her balance, she fell forward, into the arms of the man who loved her, who had always loved her.

“I’m sorry.”

She felt his heart pounding against hers as he held her there, on the brink.



* * *



“May I sit?”

“No.” Jenny shook her head but did not look up.

“You know, you can take a break. This is college. You’re supposed to have fun every once in a blue moon.”

The young man before her looked baby-faced, much younger than the men who usually flocked around her.

He held out one hand and pulled out a chair with the other. “Hi, I’m Ron.”

“Ron, I’m busy. And you don’t look like you belong here.”

“I don’t?”

“No.” She returned her attention to her studies.

“But … soon I will.”

Jenny couldn’t help but laugh. “I knew it. I just knew it.”

“What?” Ron’s voice deepened a little and he hooked his thumbs in his jean loops.

“You’re still in high school.”

“So.” He sat, stretching his legs out casually before him.

“I’m way older. Not your kettle of fish.”

“I like fishing.”

Jenny giggled.

Buoyed by the positive response, he kept going. “Can I have your number?”

“You’re what? Eighteen, at the most?”

“And counting.”

She nodded. “I’m sure.”

“So, that’s a yes.”

“Um, see, I’m twenty-one, and I have just one year left. We’re too far apart. You’ll be a freshman next year. You’ll get caught up with all those cutesy little virginal girls, all bright-eyed, all looking for trouble.” She snapped the textbook shut on the table. “I’ll be busy trying to get the hell out of here, because if I have to write one more paper, I don’t think I’ll be able to stand myself.”

Ron took a step back.

“Okay, okay.” She sighed. Picking up a pen, she tore a scrap of paper from a foolscap ring binder and scrawled on it. “You’re cute. Here’s my number. At least you’re legal.”

“Thank you!” Ron took it happily and folded it neatly into his pocket. “You won’t be disappointed.” He walked away, triumphant.

Jenny opened the textbook again and tried to refocus but the words all blurred together on the page. She shook her head. “Boys!”



* * *



The indoor hot tub was very hot. Jenny sat on the edge, naked, her body illuminated by the pale light of a single white candle. She wondered how to tell Ron that she wasn’t allowed in the hot tub. Maybe I should just tell him now. Ron had disappeared to bring wine and snacks.

Steam billowed up from the tub, covering the glass doors that faced the ocean. They were open just a crack; the sea air was so crisp she didn’t want it to seep in, but she still wanted to hear the rhythmic waves. She stood and made her way to the light switch, dimming the lights, and then moved to the French doors to gaze down at the empty beach. It was beautiful. Isolated. Down on the dune, a sudden movement rippled the long grass near a sullen, lone rock. Was that a rock? It resembled someone crouching. She shivered and pulled the doors shut as faint footsteps sounded on the stairs.

“What did you do about that door?”

“How’d you know I was there?” Ron said, sounding disappointed.

“I heard you sneak up the stairs, and I expected it.” Jenny leaned over into the tub and wet her hands, wiping the warm water up her arms, torso and neck. “I don’t feel right, leaving Kip down there. Not with the door wide open.”

“It’s fine.” Ron couldn’t help but watch the curves of her slim body as she leaned over. “I nailed it up. Found a hammer in the garage. It’ll hold until we get the locksmith out. Wine and cheese?” He set a bottle and platter down on the nearby vanity.

Jenny flashed him an inviting smile. “Sounds good. I’m starved.”

“Even after our big dinner?”

She nodded.

“Hop in,” Ron said.

“Not just yet. It’s too hot. I’ll just sit here a minute.”

“Open the doors then.” Ron threw them wide open and then joined her. They watched each other, both enjoying a bite of Camembert and cracker.

So perfectly fit in every way. Jenny admired her husband’s body as he sat on the side of the tub. All that working out, she thought.

Noticing her gaze, Ron slid into the bubbling water.

“Blue wineglasses. Blue everything.” She gestured to the glass of red wine, now a deep purple, which she had set down on the edge of the tub.

“Nana’s favorite color. She’s a big water person.”

Jenny laughed. “I can tell, and she likes fishermen.”

“Fishermen?”

“Yes, by the front door—that quote.”

“I don’t know what that’s from. It wasn’t there when I lived here.” Ron took a swig of wine, following it up with a bite of extra-mature cheddar.

“What did your grandfather do?” Jenny dangled her legs in the tub beside him.

“He was a cattleman. They had a ranch down south, but it wasn’t doing well. He consolidated and they came up here in the early sixties, when Rocky Shores started up. Ironically, the land here before was a cattle ranch. It was a compromise to come to the ocean. He preferred the open fields, in with the dirt, on his horse, but my Nana had only been to the ocean once. She fell in love with it. It captured her heart. Apparently they bickered for a good many years about coming out here.”

“And she won.”

“Yes, she won. Seems to me she had a big say.”

“Maybe she had a secret romance with a fisherman.”

“No! She wasn’t like that. She was proper, strict at times, had me doing chores for even looking at her the wrong way.” Ron tucked his hands behind his head and leaned back into the heat and the bubbles. “Do you want to meet her?”

Jenny frowned. “You mean she’s here. Now?”

“Yes, but not now ... tomorrow. Her retirement home is in town. Busy Bee Meadows—something like that.”

“Cute name, although they’re not really busy bees, are they?”

Ron chuckled. “No. But we could be.” Jumping up, wet and all, he scooped Jenny up in his arms and carried her over to the mahogany-framed bed.

“Ron!” she squealed.



* * *



“That was … exactly what I needed.”

They lay entwined, sprawled on the wet sheets.

“But look at the mess we’ve made.” Jenny splayed out one hand, rubbing it across the sheet, feeling the warm damp beneath her. “I’ll have to wash all this tomorrow.”

“Who cares! It’s all ours, or it will be soon. Everything in here will come with the purchase.” Ron stood and flung open the French doors to let the freezing, salty air blow in. “Hurry, back in the tub.”

“Christ!” Jenny stumbled back to the tub, dangling her legs back in. “You’re nuts.”

“It’s great. I love the extremes.” Ron downed the rest of his wine. “Do you want yours?” He touched her glass.

“No, I’m fine. Not in the mood for it. But I do want some of that chocolate.”

At the push of a button, the jets fired up. “As I said before, I want one of these in our bedroom,” Jenny said.

Ron nodded, feeling the wine and wondering why she didn’t get in. Then, with a yawn, he stretched out to fill up the space, the jets warm against his back. “As soon as we get back, I’ll build you one. It’ll be huge, massive. We can invite the neighbors over.”

“Ha! No way. Just us. You and me.”

From outside, Charlie let out a whimper.

“Okay, you too, Charlie. Are you cold?” Jenny squinted at the small black dog, shivering away in the corner. “Oh, look at him.”

Standing and wrapping herself in a towel, Jenny then searched the room. “Here’s a blanket.” She pulled a crocheted blue-and-white rug from a rocking chair that faced the ocean and tucked it around the dog. “There you are, you poor little sausage dog, you. Can we close the doors?”

Ron swirled the wine in his glass and looked up at her, his eyes heavy-lidded. “Uh-huh.”

Jenny returned to the hot tub and rested her hand on his strong shoulder. “Do you want to go to bed?”

He didn’t answer.

She nudged him.

“Yes…”

“Where? The bed is wet.”

“The lookout has a fold-out bed.” Ron pointed up, towards the ceiling. That’s where I’d sleep as a kid. The hex room.”

“Hex room?”

“That’s its nickname—for the shape, not because it has a hex on it.”

“Oh, thank goodness for that.” Jenny helped him out of the tub and, arm in arm, they made their way upstairs.



* * *



The sun came out, finally rearing its head at the most inconvenient time.

“Ugh.” Ron pulled the scratchy woolen blanket over his head. “I have a headache.”

“What?” Jenny rose from the rocking chair and snuck under the covers with him, enjoying the sudden heat.

He grumbled something.

“I can’t understand you from under there.”

Ron pulled the blanket back down regretfully, peeping over the top. “My head hurts. I have a headache.” He retreated back into hiding.

“I’ll go get you something. Don’t worry.”

“Mamma.” A small voice drifted up from below.

Jenny jumped to the call, padding downstairs, leaving her sorry husband behind to wallow.

“Oh my girl, look at you and your rosy little cheeks.” Kip rolled around in her bed, looking as adorable as she always did, with the exception of occasional temper tantrums.

“Do you want some cereal?”

Kip sat up suddenly, clapped playfully. “Ya.”

“Okay, let’s go. Daddy has a sore head; we have to get him water too. First, I need my robe, though.”

After a long search through her stuffed suitcase, which was still propped against the couch in the living room, Jenny found the robe and returned to the kitchen.

Kip was waiting patiently at the table for her bowl of Surprise. “Hungry, Mamma. Hungry.” Kip hit the table with a plastic spoon.

“I know, I know. I’m a-hurrying. Here.” She poured some golden flakes into a plastic bowl she’d retrieved from a cupboard.

“Sugar! Sugar!”

“Just a little.”

Kip ate almost as quickly as she poured it, immediately requesting more in that high-pitched, demanding toddler tone.

“Here”—Jenny poured more—“enjoy it while I go give daddy his water.”

The suitcase was way too heavy to haul up to the bedroom, so Jenny just snatched up her toiletry bag and a glass of water and made her way up the three flights of stairs to the hex room.

“I’m outta breath.” She sat next to the lump beneath the covers and held out the glass. “Here. I have painkillers.”

“No, not yet.” Ron drank deeply. “I’m just dehydrated, though I wouldn’t mind my sunglasses.” He squinted and held one hand up to his eyes. “Do you know where they are?”

“In the car.”

He gave her a longing look.

“Okay, okay. I will go get them, but you have to bring my case up; it’s too heavy for me.”

“Yes. I’ll do anything you ask of me … in the shade.”

She laughed. “Anything, hmm?”

“Oh, come on. Help me out here. Throw me a limb.” He clutched at her arm, snuggled against her.

“But you’re not drowning.”

“I am. I am. I’m drowning in misery, in cheap wine. God, cheap wine!” Ron ran a hand over his face and groaned.

“In that case. I’m not sorry I didn’t have any.” She smiled.

“You’re lucky—that’s what.”

“Fine, I’ll get them. And then I’ll make you some pancakes.”

“Oh, God. Oh, GOD!” Ron hurtled up from the bed. “I’m going to be sick.”

“Hold it in. Hold it!” Jenny stared frantically around the hex room, looking for something, anything. “There’s nothing here, Ron. Hold it!”

“I can’t.” Ron leaned over the side of the bed and let loose.

“Oh, Jesus! Are you sure there’s no hex on this room?”

The only response from him was another unpleasant bout of heaving.

Jenny finally noticed that her morning sickness had passed. The irony.



* * *



The only thing to do was get on with the day. After a few sulky hours, Ron finally got up, showered, and ate some plain toast. Jenny, Kip and Charlie had already been to the beach and back again.

“We’re out of milk.” Ron closed the fridge.

“I thought there was a full gallon in there? I bought a full gallon.” Jenny sat on the blue sofa in the little living room, her back to the kitchen, enjoying the warmth of Kip’s body as the child napped on her lap.

“There was a full gallon, but now there isn’t.”

“That’s odd. Did you drink it?”

“No. That’s why I’m asking you?”

“You didn’t ask me anything. You just told me there’s no milk. And I didn’t have any today, so…”

“What happened to it then?”

She could tell by Ron’s tone that his level of annoyance was ratcheting up again.

“I don’t know. How am I supposed to know? I’ve been out.”

“But I thought I heard you downstairs earlier. You’ve been gone this whole time?”

“Yes, I have. It must have been a ghost.”

“That’s weird. I know I heard someone.”

“You have a hangover. You must have dreamt it. You’re the one who’s been here, lying about like a big heifer.”

“Heifer? Are you kidding me? I’m a heifer now. I took you out last night, and that’s what you have to say.” He raised his voice. “Heifer!”

“And you soaked two beds and puked all over the place, and I have to clean it all up.”

“Oh, Christ!”

“Shhhh.”

“No I won’t shhhh. I can’t believe you,” Ron snapped.

“I’m on vacation! What do you not get? I’m on vacation, and you have created work for me—more work than I do at home.”

“Oh, here we go.” Ron sat down in the rocking chair, facing her.

“Yes.” Jenny looked away and said under her breath, “Here we go.”

“Why don’t you get a job then? Then we’ll see how much you complain.”

“God, Ron! Why does it always have to come back to that? I have to get a job, now? You’re the one getting such a big promotion that I don’t need to work.”

“Exactly, you don’t need to, but you’re not grateful for it either.”

“Whatever! Screw you.” Jenny eased out from under their sleeping daughter and stormed off.



* * *



“So tell me? What are you majoring in?”

It was summer and it was hot. Jenny casually wiped a bead of sweat from her neck. “I’m going to be a CPA.”

Trees encircled them, the hot pine smell perfumed the air, the chirp of grasshoppers and birds was their background music.

“Nice.” Ron, in khaki shorts and a white polo shirt, lay prone on the tiny blanket they shared. His feet dangled off into the underbrush and his absent-minded kicking had worn a small trench beneath them.

Jenny looked over at him, examining him. His skin was perfect. His body well built, although still slight. She wondered what he would look like older—more muscled, perhaps.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

She hesitated, trying to think of something less personal—after all, this was their first date. Nothing came forth. “Nothing. You?”

He couldn’t help but smile. His eyes skimmed her tight pink summer dress and then flickered back up to meet her gaze. “Me?” He paused.

“I was thinking about what you’d look like older,” she confessed.

“Now why would you want me to be older? Didn’t you come out with me here because I’m younger?”

She flipped over, moved her elbows up to block the sun, or to cover her face—to cover embarrassment she couldn’t hide.

Ron took the cue. Rolled up next to her on his side, he put his arm over her waist.

“You’re too hot,” she whispered.

With that, he tried to kiss her, but she moved away.

“I don’t kiss on the first date.” Jenny propped herself on one elbow, on her side, and they both faced each other, inches apart.

“Can I be the exception?”

He looked so fresh, but he acted older. Jenny couldn’t fathom where it came from. She raised one brow. Ron moved his head in closer, holding his lips close to hers, but he didn’t do anything. She tilted her head just a little as he pressed his lips to hers. She had kissed many others, but it still felt like a first kiss—still tied her stomach in knots. He pulled back a little, still keeping his face close.

“I want you,” he whispered, and stroked her cheek.

They kissed again, this time longer.

The rest of their time in the woods, out in the middle of nowhere in the Cascade Forest, was innocent, although spent not saying much at all.



* * *



“I knew I’d find you up here.” Ron stood all the way back in the hex room as Jenny leaned up against the glass and regarded the view. “Careful on the glass there; don’t lean all your weight on it.”

She stayed put. “I love it up here. It’s like I’m all alone, and there’s nothing else whatsoever. I haven’t felt this way about a place in ages. I mean, I love our home, but you know—it’s just so much better out here.”

“You and Nana would get along very well.” Ron stayed where he was, knowing better, still hearing the undercurrent of anger in her tone.

“Look at all the people out there, walking along. I wonder if they all live here? Or are they just visiting? It’s impossible to tell; they’re all so pale. It must be hard to manage a tan in this weather.” She rubbed her arms. “I need to work on mine, badly.”

“You can go sunbathe. It’s not always so bad. When the weather’s good, it’s really good. You could be as dark as you want.”

“I don’t want to be too dark, just a bit of color.” Her tone eased a little.

“Come here.” Ron put his arms out. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight anymore.”

Jenny hurried to him, snuggled in to him. “Me neither. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Oh, honey. Come on, I’ll help you clean. We’ll get it all done, then we’ll go pay a visit to Nana.”



* * *



Busy Bee Meadows was a pale peach stretch of a building on the non-ocean side of Rocky Shores’ spit. It had water views, but only of an expanse the width of a medium-sized freeway. It overlooked more homes on the other side of the narrow inlet. Still, it had a better view than most, and it was always full, with low patient rotation.

“She’s been here how long?” Jenny asked as she parked the car.

“Years now. Maybe like five years or something.”

“But who takes care of the beach house?”

“Oh man—that’s right. I forgot about her. We didn’t have to break in.” Ron slapped his knee. “She has a good friend in town somewhere who has a set of keys. Her name is … hmmm ... it’s not coming to me. I’ll ask Nana. We’ll need to get the keys from her.”

“Well it’s too late for that. I barely slept last night with just some boards on the front door. I ended up in bed with Kip. Now, this woman, she can come in at any time?” Jenny asked, concerned.

“Yeah. Considering I can’t remember her name, it probably wouldn’t have mattered. Wonder what she’ll think if she finds out I nailed the door shut. What a mess. We’re lucky crime rates are low here. Anyway, remind me to ring the locksmith to come out and fix it.”

Jenny nodded. “Sure.” Her mind was elsewhere, thinking of the strangers that could possibly access her prospective home.

Ron pressed the buzzer. Waited. It was a longer wait than anticipated. He pressed again. “Hello?” he enquired of the intercom.

“Busy Bees Meadows, how may I help you?” came and old woman’s voice, slightly odd in tone.

“Uh, yes. We’re here to see Geraldine James?”

The tone increased in pitch, excited. “Oh, come in. Come in.”

The door unlocked with a soft click. The smell hit them with a fist.

“Jesus.” Jenny whispered, one hand to her nose. “What is that?”

A frail woman in a lavender dress greeted them and Jenny promptly gathered her manners and dropped her arms to her side.

Jenny had dressed up—dusk pink, tight-fitting skinny pants beneath a white blouse. Kip looked as cute as ever in a pink dress by Jenny’s side and Ron wore pressed black pants and a baby blue button-up shirt.

“Hi! My name is Marilynn, and you are?”

“I’m her grandson. Ron.”

“May I see your ID please?”

“Sure. Here it is.” Ron shook his license from his wallet and handed it over.

“Thanks! Follow me. This way.”

The old woman hobbled down a beige-tiled hall. The stench became stronger; Jenny once more covered her nose with her sleeve.

“It’s so good to see new visitors. Gerry hasn’t had any in quite a while ... well, Mrs. Coggington does come to see her weekly, but, you see, Mrs. Coggington has been laid up with arthritis these past few weeks. She had a hip reconstruction you see, and well … I did pay Mrs. Coggington a visit myself and took her some of those chocolates she likes. I know she likes them, because she brings them in for Gerry, although Gerry can’t eat them. This way now.”

“Thanks.” Ron was at a loss for words.

“Gerry just had surgery. She might not be able to speak yet,” Marilynn warned.

“Surgery?” Ron asked.

“Yes. They removed all her teeth.”

“You removed her teeth?”

“Yes, uh…” Marilynn paused before a door with the number 946 on it. “The last of her teeth had to be removed from decay,” she whispered.

Jenny and Ron’s eyes widened.

“Yes. You see, Gerry won’t let anyone brush her teeth anymore. We tried everything! She wouldn’t even let her favorite nurse, Sue, do it. Of course, she got an infection—deep down in the root. The dentist suggested all her teeth be removed, because soon they’d all be in decay.”

“Are you kidding me?” Ron whispered back, loudly. “She has no teeth at all. How does she eat?”

“I’m sorry.” Marilynn stared down at the linoleum floor. “I thought you would have known, being family.”

“Excuse us a minute.” Ron took Jenny by the arm and led her and Kip away, around the corner.

“What the hell?” He shook his head.

Jenny shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never been in a place like this. Maybe they do this?” She put two fingers to her temple and rubbed. A slight headache was forming, along with a whiff of nausea. “Do we have to go back in there? What is that awful smell? It’s like something f*cking died in here.”

“Shhhh, don’t say that. People may hear you.”

A nurse in magenta scrubs adorned with some ugly floral print passed them. Kip waved at her happily. She ignored the child; they all watched each other.

“Ron, seriously, I don’t think I can take this.”

“But it’s my Nana. We have to go in there! She may pass at any moment. I mean, Jesus—her teeth. She’s already lost her mind.”

“What do you mean?”

“I wasn’t going to tell you.” Ron bit his bottom lip.

“What? Come on?”

He shook his head. “She has Alzheimer’s.”

“Oh! ... oh.” In all their years together, Ron had never mentioned that. “Really?”

“Yes. It’s the family secret. I was hoping we’d go in and she might be lucid or something, but with this tooth thing, hell. I don’t know why my mother never told me about this. She knew we were coming here.”

“You said it’s the family secret; your mother is obviously ashamed or something.”

“What the...? Well, let’s go in.”

Jenny stopped him. “No. You go first. I’ll wait out here and come in soon. Is that all right?”

“That doesn’t sound like a question.”

It wasn’t so bad sitting outside the room waiting; Kip kept her company. The child swayed back and forth and fidgeted, sat up, got down, tapped on this, looked at that. Watching her, Jenny felt glad she was out here with the young, not in the room with the old and decrepit. Something about nursing homes gave her the creeps in general. She did not want Kip to see any of it.

The door opened and Ron stuck his head in. “She’s good. She looks fine, but she’s a bit confused. Come in, but I don’t think you should bring Kip. I’ll wait out here with her,” Ron said.

Jenny looked down at Kip, who was busy picking at something on the peach leathered bench. “Okay, I guess.” came her answer, despite the sense of terror welling up inside her.

With a deep breath in, and a fluff of her collar, Jenny opened the door to room 946. A lump lay still under the peach covers.

In the far corner was a small, rickety chair. Jenny took it, crossed her legs, and folded her arms. She was hiding, but from what or from whom she didn’t know. The pull-around privacy curtain was tucked back neatly behind the patient’s bed. Part of her wanted to go over there and pull it shut.

The lump moved.

Tightening up even more, Jenny closed her eyes, and said, “Gerry?”

There was no response.

“Gerry. I’m Jenny, your grandson Ron’s wife. He was just in here.” She opened her eyes to peek. Everything was still. The only sound was a dull ticking. Oh no, there is a clock in this room! Jenny thought. Who’d want to know the time in a place like this? This is no place for time. It’s a place to lose yourself in your thoughts, or in the ramblings of your failing memory.

There was a sudden movement, something at the head of the bed, just under the sheets.

“Gerry?”

It was killing her—the ticking; she couldn’t take it. Jenny tiptoed to the head of the bed.

“I know you’re under there. What are you doing under there?” She tried to sound nice, pleasant.

There was a fleshy snap.

Jenny backed up. A single drop of blood seeped through the pale apricot sheet.

There was a whimper, then another snap and more blood.

“Gerry?” Jenny pulled back the sheet.

The shrunken, white-haired woman’s face was smeared with crimson as she picked the stitches from her gums. Jenny stared, horrified, not even seeing the fist that came out from nowhere and popped her straight in the gut.

“Jesus Christ, you punched me!” Jenny yelled. “What are you doing?” Shielding her abdomen, she backed up further.

Gerry licked her lips.

Jenny frantically searched the room for the nurse call bell. “It’s got to be here somewhere!”

Gerry stared vacantly and kept picking at the stitches.

“Stop that, Gerry! You’re hurting yourself. Here it is, Jesus Christ.”

Jenny pushed the big red button and left the old woman to her fascinations.



* * *



“My God, honey. I’m so sorry you had to see that. She was fine when I went in. She just sat there looking out the window. I talked to her, told her about our lives a bit. I just don’t know what to think about all this.”

Ron backed the car out of Busy Bee Meadows and Jenny’s panic subsided a little. Ron was thinking of only one thing. “Chinese?” he asked.

“I have blood on my blouse.”

Ron didn’t even look. “How’d that happen?”

“Your Nana punched me, right in the ... here.” Jenny placed both hands over her belly.

“She what?”

“I know, right.”

Ron shook his head. He was driving, but he wasn’t particularly aware of the road. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine; luckily she’s weak. I think everything will be okay. I mean in there. I think it will be fine.”

Ron accidentally crossed the yellow line and then swerved out of the path of an on-coming car.

“Watch out, where are you going?” Jenny looked back to check on Kip, who was just sitting there, staring out of the window.

Nervously, Ron shook his head. “Okay, okay. I just can’t get over it. When you left, the nurses tied my Nana to the bed. They tied her down so violently. I didn’t know they did stuff like that. I’ve only seen it in the movies—you know, when they put those insane people in padded cells and straitjackets. This is just a nursing home.”

“You didn’t see what she was doing. It was completely, utterly mad.” Jenny covered her face. All she could see were sharp teeth coming on.

“Stop it. Stop it. Go away,” she pleaded quietly. “I don’t want to see you … please.”

“I can’t go away; I’m driving. What are you talking about?” Ron asked.

“The teeth, I can’t get rid of them.” Leave me alone, she silently begged, but the mental image wouldn’t fade. In her mind’s eye, the whale turned, flipped its tail above the water and sucked her down, down into the dark with it.

“Jenny!” Ron pulled over and stopped the car. He got out and hurried to his wife’s aid, unbuckling her seat belt and pulling her out onto the verge. Her eyes were shut, her breathing rapid. “Jenny! Wake up.”

No reply.

“Honey! Wake up! Wake up! I know you’re in there … Jenny.” He was at a loss for what to do.

Choking for air, Jenny tried to swim away. The water was thick as mud and the massive whale hung suspended in it, facing her, smiling at her, it’s teeth so sharp and its eyes black and empty. She reached out to touch it, but it was just out of reach.

Her eyes flew open.

“Oh my God, honey. Honey? You’re okay, you’re okay,” Ron babbled, rocking her back and forth.

“What?” Jenny looked up him. He was red-faced and sweating. A car passed, slowed, and then continued on.

“You fainted or something. I don’t know what happened.”

“How long was I out?”

“Just a few minutes. What happened? Do you remember?”

“No. I don’t remember a thing. Where are we? Why am I on the street?”

“I pulled you out, to get air. Wait … I don’t know. I just had to get us out of the car. Are you okay? Should we go back? Do you want to eat?”

“Eat what?” Jenny sat up, feeling slightly dizzy.

“Chinese food,” said Ron. “We’re almost there.”

“I don’t want to go in, not like this. Look at me.” Jenny looked down at the bloodstain on her shirt. Memories of the nursing home flooded back to her. “Your Nana … we saw her.” Jenny shook her head. “Can we just get takeout?”

“Yes, we can. Do you want me to take you to a doctor?”

“No. No way. That is the last place I want to be after what happened earlier. Anyway, I am a little hungry, and I’ve heard this place is the best joint in Rocky Shores.”

Ron sighed, relieved to hear Jenny’s tone lighten. “Yes, I’ve heard that too.”