Chapter 23
Harper’s dream-self carried two heavy buckets, each filled with human waste and sick, up the steep wooden steps from the bowels of the ship to the deck.
With practiced routine, she poured the contents over the side of the boat, into the same ocean where the fish and crabs fed on the body of her child so far below the waves.
Figures moved around her, not concerned with her presence, deckhands going on about their business.
She knew she had precious few minutes in the fresh sea air, but leaned against the taffrail trying to pull as much of the clean ocean air into her lungs as possible.
He would be waiting for her below, the man with the rough beard.
Harper’s dream-self knew this as sure as she knew the buckets would soon fill again with waste.
He would be waiting in the curtained-off cot with the one port hole that leaked salt water but still gave a glimpse of the outside from the dark hell that had become their reality.
He would be waiting with his britches off, his stinking breath, and rough hands.
He would be waiting. Harper’s dream-self leaned far over the taffrail, watching the water beat against the sides of the ship.
She could join the child, sink to the bottom of the ocean where his body rested, join him with the fish and crabs, become one with the salt and ice of the sea.
From behind her a voice pierced her consciousness.
Harper felt herself turning to see a pair of apple-green eyes set in a rugged and worn face.
The figure spoke words that Harper could not hear, and with a gentle hand pulled her away from the rail.
She felt a bolt of lightning shoot through her spine at his touch, but also the dread of survival.
Harper felt herself reeling away from the image, the dream spiraling farther into the open sky where the two figures stood facing each other on the deck of the ship surrounded by the sea.
Harper knew instinctively that a series of little earthquakes was not necessarily an indication that a big one was headed their way.
If anything, it was thought that the little rattlers were releasing pressure, stabilizing the area.
Still, Harper was shook. She’d never felt earthquakes like this, even on research runs in Alaska.
Five a.m., still a bit early, but she was awake.
Harper rolled out of bed, careful not to bother Polly, and pulled on her running pants and shoes.
After scrawling a note to Kyle in case he too couldn’t sleep, she exited out the front door.
Harper loved this time of the day. No one was awake, no one knew where she was, although she supposed, as she jogged down their street and into the heart of the village, with phones, watches, and whatnot, no one was hidden entirely.
Harper paused as she passed the grocery store. Shuri had done most of the shopping and Harper had not had much reason to stop, but the lights were on and she saw Hedy walking amongst the aisles with a clipboard and pen, her reading glasses perched on her nose.
Harper took a deep breath. Einar had said they were friendly, now was the time to see. She went to the front door and to her surprise, it was unlocked. As she entered, she heard Hedy’s ancient voice from aisles.
“Not open yet, give me an hour.”
“I just wanted to make sure you were alright? With the quake this morning?” Harper called out hesitantly.
Hedy came around the corner with her clipboard, her face a combination of confusion and annoyance.
“Why wouldn’t we be?” she asked curtly.
“I was just checking. I can help you clean up if it knocked anything off your shelves, or anything …” Harper trailed off, feeling supremely foolish all of a sudden.
“Knocked over a display by the counters, if you really want to be of use.” Hedy nodded to the counter where boxes of macaroni lay strewn on the floor.
“Yeah, I mean, happy to help,” Harper answered, relieved.
“Bad back, can’t bend over like I used to, stock boy’s not in till nine.” Hedy returned to her clipboard.
Harper crossed to the boxes and began arranging them back on the display table in a manner she hoped was close to what it had been. One had spilled open.
“Do you have a broom?” she called out.
“Behind the counter, supply room, go on back,” Hedy answered.
Harper felt like a trespasser as she found a little mop closet in the back hallway; boxes littered the floor, lists hung on walls, a calendar with a painting of a kitten in a basket stared at her from the back of the door.
“You got it?” Hedy asked from the counter, and Harper jumped.
“Yeah, I’m good,” she said as she took the broom and dustpan, and went to start on sweeping up macaroni. Hedy sat on a stool behind the counter, watching.
“Einar said you were a good one,” she said approvingly.
Harper smiled. “I’m okay. None of us are used to earthquakes like this.” She swept the last of the macaroni into the pan.
“Maybe you can get the rest of the floor while you’re feeling helpful, stock boy won’t be in till nine.” Hedy grunted.
Harper nodded, it felt good to be of use.
The research lab had felt like she was spinning her wheels, and except for the recent excitement, she had largely spent the last three weeks staring at computer screens and pretending to be busy.
As she swept the aisles of the small grocery, Harper was hit with another wave of familiarity.
Not déjà vu like at the manor, but the idea of working and living in this place.
It felt natural, like she had returned home.
“I see you’ve lost one of your people,” Hedy said in a softer tone as Harper returned to the front with her very full dustpan.
“Yes.” Harper nodded as she emptied it into the trash. “We had an injury. We’re in a bit of a holding pattern.”
“It’s more than that, I think you know it’s more than just that.” Hedy put her checklist down and looked at Harper. Her dark eyes, so like Einar’s, held the same kindness even if you had to look deep to find it.
“What do you mean?” Harper asked softly.
“You should listen to what Blódughadda is trying to tell you. I remember your mother from so many years ago, you look like her. I knew you’d make it here one day,” Hedy said, and then she looked out the window. “Oh look, Dorothy is here with the bread. Do take a cinnamon roll for your trouble.”
Harper was struck silent as a squat woman with a tray of baked goods maneuvered her way into the grocery.
As Harper walked slowly up the hill to the house, two cinnamon rolls in a brown paper bag, she thought about what Hedy had said.
Even apart from the fact that here was someone who had known her mother, remembered what she was like as a girl …
what was Bell trying to tell her? The quakes, the rogue wave, Shuri’s accident, Polly’s dead thing, could all of it be for the purpose of scaring them off?
A warning? Of what? And what did Hedy mean by knowing she would make it to Bell one day?
She had a sudden urge to go to Bell Manor, to talk to Lady Bell, to talk to anyone who knew this place.
Einar had mentioned that Anna was sometimes at the pub, the storm was in a lull.
The roads to the manor were open, maybe it was a good time to get out of the house for a bit.