Marcia Talley - Sing It to Her Bones

Hal flipped the master battery switch and toggled on the cabin lights. A light came on over the U-shaped galley to my right. Connie’s stainless steel sink gleamed; the Formica counters shone. Everything would be put away, of course, including the knives in their neat little compartmentalized drawer over the sink. I frantically surveyed the cabin, looking for possible weapons while Hal rummaged about in the navigation station. He opened a bottom drawer, stuck his hand in, and came out with a fistful of sail ties.

“Forward.” His voice was calm, but seeing the sail ties heartened me. He was only going to tie me up, not kill me. At least not right away. Where there’s life, there’s hope . Well-meaning visitors used to comfort me with such drivel when I was struggling with my recovery in the hospital. What a twist of fate this was.

“Let’s get this show on the road!” Liz yelled from above. “Drive this thing out of here.” We had been idling in the slip, untied, for only minutes, but it seemed like hours to me. I heard the pitch of the engine change as Connie shifted into reverse and began backing Sea Song out of her slip.

I was uncooperative, twisting my body away from him, while Hal secured my hands behind my back. His frustrated grunts gave me satisfaction.

He ordered me to sit on the floor of the forward cabin, a space about three feet square. He tried to secure the cabin door, but space was so limited, he couldn’t close it with me sitting there. He could have ordered me to stand up, of course, but then he’d have to contend with the faulty catch. Connie had knotted string around it to hold the door open so it wouldn’t bang about while we were under way. Hal must have decided it was too much trouble. “Stay here. Don’t move and you won’t get hurt.”

“Sure, Hal. Like I believe that. I’d be curious to know what you plan to do with us. I think you owe me that much.”

He was standing, towering over me, filling the door of the tiny cabin as snugly as a cork. I was aware of everything about him from the Dock-Siders on his feet to his bare knees and khaki shorts, from his leather belt to his plaid cotton shirt. Our eyes met, and even in the dim light from the forty-watt bulb behind me, I thought I saw something there. A flicker. Hesitancy?

Hal knelt in front of me. I squirmed as far from him as I could against the bottom of the V-berth, where I could feel the gentle vibration of the engine against my back. Hal smiled and touched my cheek with his fingertips, dragged his fingers down slowly to touch my chin, then my lips. I turned my face aside, wishing I could move away from him. His face loomed large in front of me, and suddenly his hand tightened on my chin, turned my face to him, and his mouth was on mine, pressing my head back against the berth. I couldn’t breathe. When the kiss was over, I wanted to wipe my mouth, but I couldn’t do it.

“I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I met you, Hannah.”

I wasn’t aware that I was crying until I felt the wetness on my cheeks. Hal brushed my tears away with the gentleness of a lover. “I was hoping I’d have a chance with you. I really was.”

I briefly considered playing along with him but figured he would see through my act in a minute. “Cut out the crap, Hal. If you cared for me at all, you’d get yourself out of this mess. Talk to Dennis. Tell the truth. Take your lumps.” I remembered when I said it that Hal didn’t know we had discovered Pegasus ’s secret compartment. If we could just get word to Dennis, Hal would pay for that stolen kiss with many, many years behind bars. Right now, though, neither possibility seemed very likely.

Hal rocked back on his heels. “I worried when you started asking questions all over town. Particularly when you started talking with Chip. I just wanted to discourage you, is all. Thought a little swim in the bay might convince you to go home.”

“So you tripped me? Why would falling overboard make me want to go home?”

He shrugged.

“And were you responsible for running me off the road, too?”

“No. That was Liz’s bright idea. I never thought your life would be in jeopardy. Liz said they’d just frighten you a little, but I should have known.” He searched my face, as if looking for understanding. “I really cared about you.”

I noticed Hal’s use of the past tense and shivered.

“I’m only sorry I didn’t meet you earlier. There’s chemistry between us, Hannah. You feel it, I can tell. This kind of chemistry doesn’t come along very often.”

With difficulty, I kept my face impassive, thinking, The only chemistry between you and me right now, buster, is saltpeter, charcoal, and sulfur, and the last time I looked, that spelled gunpowder . I remembered Hal had said he’d had only one serious relationship since Vietnam. Could it have been with Katie?

Hal had stood and turned to go.

“Hal, tell me something.” He looked back at me over his shoulder. “Why did you pay for Katie’s abortion?”

In the dim light he looked confused, like a little lost boy. “She didn’t want the baby.”

“ You were the father of that child!”

He squatted down in front of me again, tracing a finger almost absentmindedly along my slack-clad knee. “Yes, but she wasn’t really interested in me, Hannah, an old, broken-down Vietnam vet. She wanted to marry that young Bible thumper. She didn’t even tell me about the baby until after Chip turned her down.” His voice was almost a whisper.

“Turned her down? You mean he wouldn’t marry her?”

“No. He wouldn’t sleep with her.” Hal knelt before me, head down, staring at his hands.

So that had been her plan! Katie thought she could trick Chip into marrying her, but when he refused to sleep with her, she would never have been able to pass the child off as his.

“I’d have married her. Been a good father, too. But she was only interested in me for-”

I thought I could fill in the blank. “For drugs?”

Hal’s eyebrows shot up. “How’d you know?”

“Bill Taylor told me.”

“Bill! It figures. He was sweet on Katie, too.” Hal’s knees popped as he stood up. “Well, it doesn’t matter now. None of it matters. When she called me an old man and made it clear that she’d never really loved me, there didn’t seem to be any point in pretending anymore.” He shrugged. “So I gave her the money.”

“Hal, it’s not too late. Tell Connie to turn the boat around. Let’s go home.” I toyed again with the idea of coming on to him, of making him think there might be a chance of something between us, but something had died in his eyes.

“I don’t think so, Hannah. It’s too late now. Too late for everything.”

As he left the cabin, he flipped off the lights, plunging the V-berth into darkness, leaving me alone, struggling to free my hands. Knowing I had to come up with a plan.

I hadn’t thought about Jamie DeMella foryears. That’s why it was all the more surprising that I’d think about him now while trussed up in the dark, all alone in the forward cabin of a pirated sailboat. When my father was stationed in San Diego, Jamie had lived next door. We played together after school. One summer I’d organized a neighborhood circus to raise money for the Red Cross. Jamie was supposed to be ringmaster but decided at the last minute that he’d rather be a magician. He’d bought a junior magician kit at the PX, one that came with a top hat, a wand, a deck of trick cards, some brass rings, and a string of silk scarves. He practiced for hours in his backyard until his bratty little sister refused to cooperate anymore. Then he asked me to be his assistant. For the event I agreed to dress in my ballet tutu and hold his equipment, but I drew the line when he wanted to saw me in half. We were both ten. I didn’t think he had the experience.