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David Dun: The Black Silent

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David Dun The Black Silent

The Black Silent: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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"Who is he?" he asked Sherry.

"Just came a day or so ago. Calls himself Rafe something. Thinks I sold him my body just because he bought my stereo. I told him I didn't want to sell it. Told him it wasn't worth a thousand, but he insisted. And then after he took the stereo, he got real ugly when I wouldn't have dinner with him."

"That other one," she said, meaning the smaller man, who'd already disappeared, "I guess is trying to take up pimping."

"So he's not with the heavyweight champ here."

"Not regular, I don't think."

The insanity was starting to make a little more sense.

"What's this guy doing on the island?"

"I don't know, but he's got friends."

Sam nodded.

Rafe what's-his-name was coming around. When he got up, he kept his eyes pointedly away from Sam, brushed himself off, and walked straight away.

Sam went back and resumed his reading until he felt the weight of someone else's gaze.

Without looking he knew that it was Haley, her brunette curls and eyes like bluish green silk, which were perceptive and inquisitive, and that once might have held just the proper mirth. Sam

hadn't seen that light in her eyes in a long time, not since the Fourth of July, 1994.

She had missed the "Mud Head and Rafe Show" and that was just as well. She would have insisted on fighting.

Following his capture and torture and the death of his wife, Anna, Sam had decided on San Juan Island as the site of his convalescence. His relationship with his uncle Ben and Haley turned out to be the perfect balm. In his growing-up years, he on occasion came to visit Uncle Ben and now-deceased Aunt Helen, and quickly grew fond of them.

During the summer of his twelfth birthday, he had spent the entire three months working with Aunt Helen on the landscaping and Uncle Ben had taken time from work for a number of salmon fishing expeditions. There were various other visits and more salmon. For a time, when she was nineteen and he was twenty-nine, he and Haley had almost been an item. Over his recent months on the island, Sam had found this dormant bond with Ben was growing. Haley was more complicated.

Life had kicked Haley to the ground, but Sam admired her because she kept trying to get back up. The prestigious Sanker Corporation had thrown her out in disgrace, claiming she'd stolen the work and ideas of her fellow scientists. That was shocking because she was the adopted daughter of the eminent Dr. Ben Anderson, also at Sanker, known to be the straightest of the straight.

Sam knew that Haley's life had been a strange mixture of ups and downs. Before her adoption at age nine, life had been very tough. With Ben and Helen her intelligence flourished. By sixteen she could fly Ben's float plane and run any boat that floated.

Academically she excelled, obtaining a Ph. D. degree in marine biology at age twenty-seven.

Because of her success, Sam knew the last great fall was very hard.

For the present she had taken to operating a bicycle and motor scooter-rental business thirty feet from Sam's sitting spot. She owned it, and had part-time employees, but lately seemed to be showing up herself. Sam's return to the island had just followed Haley's expulsion from her job and concurrent ostracization from local scientific society. She hadn't wanted to talk about the scandal much. He glanced her way and waved. She used that iron will of hers to return a good smile left over from better days and waved back.

Then she came closer.

"Can I interrupt your work a moment?" she asked.

He, of course, had no work during his recuperation but his learning, to which he was devoted. In response he put the book of early-island history aside. He was studying the history of the place, what grew in each microclimate, when it bloomed if it did, the resident birds, the migratory visitors, what was in the sea and what was beside it, the terrestrial life, the mammals, the invertebrates, the habits of each, and their place in the order of things. It was an ambition.

If Haley's face was looked at in an unguarded moment, the symmetry of it was pleasing, and the slight round of it and the softness in it had the look of caring. She was only thirty-two and beautiful. In her smile he saw the residue of pain. Lately she was always very welcoming, and when he looked at her, it was starting to feel like Irish cream in his coffee. That Fourth of July in 1994 passed through his mind again. He nodded.

"Of course," he said. "What's up?"

"It's about Ben," she said.

From the corner of his eye he saw Ben Anderson's lady friend and personal assistant, Sarah, approaching, the fourth member of their little family. Sarah was an attractive, forty-five-year-old redhead who looked in her late thirties and always had a good word at the right moment. She was sincere, soft-spoken, and liked corny jokes. Additionally, she was a fitness fanatic and had the strong elastic body to prove it.

"I assume Sarah's arrival is no coincidence," he said.

Ben, Haley, Sarah, Sam, and Haley's best friend, Rachael, had created something of an extended family.

Haley nodded. "I asked her to come."

It may have been Haley's tone, or Sarah's appearance here on a Sunday but Sam had suspected something was up. Also the bicycle-rental business was virtually shut down this time of year and Haley's appearance to repair a bike was a little thin. Sarah lived on Lopez Island, and on Saturdays she didn't typically cross San Juan Channel in her little runabout until later, about the time Ben typically quit his weekend work. Sarah worked for Ben, had for years, but Sam figured there was something growing between them.

Sam stood. Together he, Haley, and Sarah adjourned to the uphill side of the veranda in front of the sidewalk-servicing window of the local coffee shop.

They placed their orders, then retreated from the window to wait.

"Haley looks like a brunette version of Cameron Diaz in that hat," Sarah said, referring to Haley's tam-o'-shanter. Haley always wore a hat of some sort.

Haley gave a smile as if she didn't believe it.

"Haley wanted to talk," Sarah said, "and I did too. Although I have to admit that I'm feeling a little guilty because I didn't mention this talk to Ben. He and I are having dinner tonight after I, quote, 'finish some chores at home.'"

She had Sam's interest. He looked to Haley for an explanation.

"We're worried about Ben," Haley said.

"How so?"

"Well," she said, "he is not acting like himself. He's keeping things secret. Actually, he's keeping everything secret. From me, from Sarah. We want to know if he's told you anything he didn't tell us."

Sarah nodded in agreement.

"Ben doesn't talk much about his work," said Sam. "What do you think is going on?"

"I think he's got more on his mind than his work. Or leaving Sanker."

"You might be right," Sam told Haley. "You know the rumors-that Ben's discovered some sort of longevity secret."

"You heard that?"

"Only vaguely," Sam said. "From everything you do know, do you believe Ben discovered some kind of magic bullet to slow aging? I mean, for significant lengths of time?"

Sherry had their coffees ready, but no one moved to get them.

"Let me put it this way," Haley said in a lower voice. "If you conquered cancer in North America-I mean completely conquered it-you would only increase average life expectancy about 3.5 years. Heart disease is better, but still only about seven years. Isn't it shocking that by eliminating these two big killers, cancer and heart disease, we're only talking a little over a decade of extra life? The real miracle, if someone could pull it off, would be 'youth retention.'"

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