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.She looked tiny, like a little paper doll in a big white envelope.Her eyes were closed, and thin black wires trailed out of her ears.At first, I thought they might be some kind of medical paraphernalia, but then Arlen went to the bed and touched her shoulder and her eyes popped open.She reached up and pulled the ear buds out of her ears.“Oh my goodness.Seychelle!” She fumbled in the covers on the bed and lifted up a small box.It was a cassette player.She pushed a button on the machine and it made a loud clack in the otherwise quiet room.Her voice had been little more than a whisper.“Hi, Mrs.Sparks.I brought you a cake.” Next to her bed was a long narrow table on wheels just like they have in hospitals; I set the box on the end.“It’s angel food, just like you used to bake for us.”It was the strangest thing I thought of when I got closer to her.Under her eyes were hollows the same size as the bags under her husband’s eyes, and I wondered if they could fit together when they kissed.It was a stupid thing to think, because it was pretty obvious there hadn’t been much kissing in this house for a while.She wore a red scarf on her head, and the bright color made her skin look the color of dried putty.“Thank you, dear.”“What were you listening to?”“I can’t read much anymore.My eyes tire too quickly.I listen to books now on audio.”I smiled at her.“Should have known you wouldn’t be in here watching the soaps.”“No, I’m listening to Treasure Island.I’ve always loved that story.”“It’s good to know some things don’t change, Mrs.Sparks.”“You don’t think I’ve changed?” she asked, the surprise evident in her voice.“Sure, you look different.I expected that.But you still act the same and, as usual, that’s what puts a smile on other people’s faces.”“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”“Good, because I meant it as one.You know, I’m sorry I haven’t been by before now, but I didn’t know you were sick.”“Well, now, why would you? You haven’t lived here in years.”“But I should have been checking up on you.I’m sorry.”“Dear, we old folks expect the young ones to grow up and move away.” Her eyes closed, and she sighed.“There’s nothing wrong with that.”“But I only moved a few miles away and I feel bad.I mean, you were like a mom sometimes when I didn’t have one, and I should have been like a daughter when you needed one.”It occurred to me then how capricious nature was— bestowing motherhood on those like the women in my family who make lousy mothers, and denying children to a woman like Sarah Sparks.She shook her head and opened her eyes.It seemed to require a great deal of effort.“Seychelle, you were always so hard on yourself.You didn’t owe me anything.You children gave me more pleasure—”She didn’t finish the sentence.Her breathing was slow and regular.She was asleep.I straightened the covers and set the cassette recorder on her table.“Likewise, Mrs.Sparks,” I whispered.I found Arlen in the kitchen fixing himself a roast beef sandwich.He asked me if I wanted one, and then without asking he poured us both glasses of a dark Cabernet.He put the bottle on the table, too.“She’s got this morphine pump,” he said.“When it kicks in it knocks her right out.She’ll just drop off in midsentence.The cancer’s in her liver now.”“It must be really hard taking care of her.You look exhausted.”“I should have taken them to court.” He reached for the wine bottle and refilled his glass.“Who?”“Motowave.It’s all their fault.”“What do you mean?”“When they canned me, I got depressed and there I was moping around, feeling sorry for myself.I didn’t pay any attention to the fact that my wife was sick again.We didn’t get her to the doctors quick enough because she was trying to take care of me.”“That doesn’t sound like the best logic.”“She wouldn’t be like this if it wasn’t for them.The bastards—” It sounded like he’d been about to say something more about Motowave, but when he spoke again, the anger was gone and his voice was flat.“I can’t stand just sitting here watching her die.”He drank off the rest of his second glass and reached for the bottle again.He hadn’t touched his sandwich yet.“Arlen, why don’t you eat your sandwich? I want to tell you about an idea I have.”He took a bite and chewed with his mouth half open.“Okay.What is it?”“I have a friend who is a nurse and she needs a place to stay.You have a three-bedroom house and you really could use some live-in help for your wife.You’d really like this woman, and I know your wife would love her.”By the time I left, I had settled Arlen into his recliner to sleep off his lunch and Catalina had a place to stay.I stopped by Sailorman on my way to Jeannie’s, to see if they had a manual for my little Nissan outboard.When I walked into the store, I ran into Tia from Offshore Marine Towing standing in line at the register.“Hey, Seychelle.I’ve been trying to get hold of you.You haven’t been answering your phone or the radio.”“I’ve been out of town.Just brought the Power Play up from Key West.”She shook her head.“I heard about Nestor.That was awful.I didn’t know you were down there.”“Yeah.” There wasn’t anything else to say about it.Certainly not anything that I wanted spread around as gossip.“The reason I was trying to reach you is that there is something happening tomorrow I wanted you to know about.”“What?”“The Marine Industries Association is sponsoring a symposium on maritime salvage laws over at the International Game Fish Association headquarters.Starts at three.Think you can make it?”“Tia,” I said drawing her name out into a long whine, “that sounds like something for the big corporate boys.I’m just a small business.I fall asleep when I go to business meetings.”“Sey, this is for everybody.You’ve seen it.You know how our business has been growing.Not everybody who’s been jumping in lately knows the business like you do.”“What you mean is, it’s a symposium on piracy [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]