“What kind of good?” Felicia asked.
“I’d like to buy a new, larger capacity boat for the children going over to the mainland for school. Right now, they have to rely on the state-run ferry, which stops running at five on weekdays. This way, they could participate in after-school enrichment programs they miss out on because they don’t have a reliable way to get back to the island late in the afternoon.”
“I notice you haven’t said much about Oyster Bluff in all your grand schemes,” Felicia said.
“That’s my department,” Brooke spoke up. “You all know that Josephine had finally decided to sign over all the deeds for the houses she bought there over the past twenty years or so. I was working on that before she died. It’s complicated, but we’ll get there.”
“Felicia, it sounds like you’re still not really on board with any of this,” Marie said.
“I don’t want to sound ungracious, but it’s still hard for me to believe good can come out of all the destructive things that woman did,” Felicia said. “I know you mean well, Marie, but do you really believe you can just wave some money around and think that fixes things?”
Marie gave it some thought. “You’re right. Money won’t fix everything. It will certainly help with things like roofs and plumbing, but I’m under no illusion that I can turn Talisa into some kind of utopia. So I’m going to invest in brick and mortar, but I also want to establish an after-school tutoring program and a college scholarship fund for Geechee children on the island. Maybe that’s something you could get involved with. You’d sure be a great role model for them.”
“Too many children leave the island and never come back here,” Varina said sadly. “You know there’s only ten school-age children living at Oyster Bluff right now? When I was coming up, we had our own schoolhouse. Every house had five or six children.”
“There are no jobs to keep them here,” Felicia reminded her. “Talisa can seem so closed off from civilization. I remember I couldn’t wait to get off the island to go to school and drive through a McDonald’s and shop at a real mall.” She leaned back on her elbows and looked up at the sky with its dazzling array of stars twinkling in the blue velvet sky. “It didn’t occur to me that one day I’d choose to come back here just to get away from the fast-food restaurants and the malls and the traffic and pollution. And to be able to look up and see all these stars, so far from the city lights.”
“You’re a Geechee girl,” Varina said fondly. “Ain’t nothing you can do about it. You got salt water in your veins, and it pulls you back here just as surely as the moon pulls that tide.”
Felicia refilled her wineglass. “Maybe. Oh, hell. You know what? You’re right, Marie. It’s a start. It’ll make a difference.”
“We’ll make a difference,” Brooke said, taking the bottle from Felicia. “All of us.”
“Okay, I’ll toast to that,” Felicia said. She raised her cup, then clicked it against Brooke’s, who clicked hers against Lizzie’s, who clicked against Marie’s glass. Varina touched her glass to Felicia’s, completing the circle.
“Here’s to the High Tide Club,” Felicia said. “Here’s to us. And here’s to the ones who brought us here.”
“To Varina,” Felicia said, blowing her great-aunt a kiss.
“And Ruth,” Lizzie declared.
“And even Josephine, God forgive her,” Marie said, raising her glass.
“But mostly to Millie,” Brooke said, tears springing to her eyes.
They all drained their glasses.
81
October 1941
Russell had backed the pickup truck out of the barn. He was dressed in what Millie recognized as his hunting clothes—long-sleeved tan shirt, tan trousers with leather chaps meant to deflect the burrs and brambles of the island’s thick undergrowth, and stout boots. He was loading a pair of rifles into the back of the truck.
“I, uh, was looking for you. Where are you going?” she asked.
“Where does it look like I’m going?” He slammed the tailgate up and walked around to the front of the truck. “What do you want?”
She swallowed hard and gave him her a demure smile. “About last night. I’m … sorry. It’s just there were so many people around, and I was afraid Mother might catch us in the act.” She giggled innocently.
Russell opened the door of the truck. “Hadn’t you better get back in the house?”
“Why don’t I go with you?” Millie asked, placing her hand on his arm and giving it a slight squeeze.
“Hunting? Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t know the first thing about it. You’d probably wet your panties or faint if you heard a gun fired.”
She shook her head vigorously. “You’re wrong, darling. Papa was a great shot, and he taught me. And we practiced skeet shooting at boarding school.”
“Hunting isn’t the same as sporting clays,” Russell retorted. He looked up at the sky and seemed to consider her request. “It’ll be daylight soon. I should be up in a tree stand by now.”
“Let me come,” she wheedled. “It’ll be fun. My first kill.”
“All right, you can come along if you like.” He gestured at her clothing. “Will you be warm enough? I don’t want to hear you whining about the cold, and there’s no time to go back to the house to change.”
“I’ll be fine,” Millie assured him. “Anyway, like the song says, I’ve got my love to keep me warm.”
“Get in, then, before I change my mind.”
She clapped her hands softly. “I can’t wait to show you what a good shot I am.”
*
The old truck bounced and jounced over every rut in the crushed-shell road, jarring Millie so thoroughly she was sure she could hear her bones rattling. The headlights illuminated a narrow tunnel through the lush greenery.
“Where are we headed?” she asked.
“One of the colored boys showed me Gardiner’s tree stand just up the road here,” Russell said. He had one hand on the steering wheel, and the other arm was slung carelessly across her shoulders. “There’s a big buck—the fellows call him Zeus—an eight-pointer. I was out here early Friday morning and saw him, but before I could get a shot, something spooked him.”
“I’m sure you’ll get him this morning,” Millie said. His fingertips massaged her shoulder, and she cringed inwardly.
“Damn right I will. And I can’t wait to see the look on Bettendorf’s face when I show up with the carcass of his buck strapped across the hood of his truck.”
He whistled tunelessly as they rode through the inky darkness. “How can you tell where we’re going?” she asked, peering through the windshield. “There are no road signs, and it’s so dark, I’m hopelessly lost.”
“It’s just up here, where the road forks,” Russell said. “If you go to the left, that’s the road to the dock; to the right is where we’re going.” A hundred yards later, he turned the steering wheel sharply to the right, and several hundred yards later, he pulled the truck off the road. The headlights illuminated a path cutting through the tree line.
He cut the engine and jumped out of the cab. Millie joined him as he pulled the first rifle from the truck bed.
“Where—”
He clamped a hand hard across her mouth. “Quiet, goddamn it,” he whispered. “You’ll spook the damn deer.”
She nodded her understanding, and he removed his hand. “Now listen, because I’m not going to explain it again.” His voice was a harsh whisper. He pointed at a towering live oak across the meadow. “The stand is in that pine tree just up there by the oak. You can come with me, but you don’t say a word, don’t move, don’t breathe until I give you the nod. Okay?”
“Okay,” she whispered.
He sat down on the tailgate and pulled a flask from the inside pocket of his jacket and took a swig.
Picking up the rifle, he jammed three cartridges into the magazine before turning it right-side up again. He yanked the lever down and propped it beside him before taking another swig of bourbon. “See how I did that?”