Chapter 6

Several days passed and Mother, Daddy, and I quickly became accustomed to our new life. The local public schools let out and summer settled into full swing, meaning Marryat Island was hopping. People came from all over Ohio and Kentucky and even farther away to spend a weekend or several days or maybe a week at the lodge. Poverty was on the rise in a way the country had seldom seen, but plenty of people still had money.

With the official arrival of summer, our jitney bus added several runs to its usual back-and-forth route between the lodge and the train station. Sometimes I’d ride along to greet the guests and make them feel welcome, one of my favorite jobs. I enjoyed chatting with our jitney driver, a kindly Negro man by the name of Morris Tweed. He was the husband of one of our cooks, Annie Tweed, whose infectious laughter permeated the kitchen, sweet as the cinnamon rolls she baked up fresh every morning.

I didn’t have any one job at the lodge; each day I simply did what needed doing. I helped Mother and Daddy in the Eatery. I washed dishes with Annie; I waited tables, cleaned rooms, put freshly washed linens away in the linen closet. I swept the front porch, made change for boat rentals, showed guests to their rooms. When those who had driven to the lodge asked about a car wash, I directed them to the service station across the street, owned and operated by an old friend of Uncle Cy’s by the name of Calvin Fludd. In my spare time, I was allowed to enjoy the island or walk into town or join a game of croquet or volleyball on the lawn.

Never had I been so happy and at peace. Occasionally I thought about my old life and the friends I’d left behind, especially my best friend Ariel, who wrote me weepy letters about how much she missed me. I missed her too, and yet, that life seemed far away and like the torn edges of an early morning dream. The lodge and the island were my real life. This was the place I was meant to be, and I had little desire to look back at what I’d left behind.

On our first Saturday in Mercy, I was enjoying an early afternoon swim when I saw Marlene. She waved at me from the shore and then splashed her way to my side.

“I see you’ve finally braved the water,” she said with a laugh.

“Yes. It’s wonderful!”

“I’m afraid I can’t remember your name.”

“I don’t think I ever told you. It’s Eve. Eve Marryat. And you’re Marlene, right?”

“Yes, Marlene Quimby. For a little while, anyway.”

She took a deep breath and sank beneath the surface then came up shaking water off her curls. She threw up her arms and said, “You know what’s really wonderful, Eve?”

I had to smile at her enthusiasm. “No, what?” I asked.

“I’m free!” She pushed up on her toes and floated on her back, her face lifted to the sun.

“What do you mean, you’re free?”

“I have officially graduated. The ceremony was yesterday. I am finished with school forever!” She kicked her feet and paddled around in circles.

“Good for you,” I said. “So what will you do now?”

“Get married, I hope.”

“Get married?” I echoed. “Are you crazy?”

“Yes, yes, yes, I’m crazy!” she cried, emphasizing each word with a splash of her arms. “Crazy for my boy Jimmy.”

“But you’re too young to get married.”

She stopped paddling, looked at me, and laughed again. “I’m eighteen! I’m old enough. How old are you?”

“Seventeen.”

“So you haven’t graduated?”

“No, I have one more year.”

She poked out her lower lip playfully. “Poor you.”

I shrugged. “After high school, I intend to go to college.”

“Whatever for?”

“To earn a degree.”

“A degree in what?”

“I don’t know yet. Something that helps people.”

“Phooey!” she said. “You’ll end up getting married like everyone else.”

I frowned and shook my head. “I don’t think so. I don’t want to get married. I intend to have a career.”

She sank under the water and popped up again. “Well, Eve Marryat,” she said, “I’ve just learned something about you.”

“What?”

“You’re a liar!” She laughed loudly and down she went again.

I wasn’t sure whether to be offended or to laugh along with her. I decided to let it go. When she broke through the surface of the water, I asked, “So when are you getting married?”

She sighed an exaggerated sigh. “I don’t know for sure.”

“Well, are you engaged?”

“Not officially, no.”

“So whoever this Jimmy is, he hasn’t asked you to marry him?”

“Not yet. But he will. And soon, I think.”

“Well, if that’s what you want, then I hope you get it.” I was telling the truth. She seemed incredibly happy and her joy was infectious. We shared a smile. “By the way, Marlene, I met the red-eyed devil.”

She stopped splashing and gave me a disbelieving look. “You did? What happened?”

“Nothing. We talked.”

“You talked? What did he say?”

I thought about her question, my mind flipping through the catalogue of what Jones had said: “You can just pick yourself up off the floor. . . . Don’t dance in the ballroom. . . . I’m learning to fix radios. . . . I bet you’ve never seen anyone like me. . . .”

Nothing seemed right. So I simply said, “We’re cousins.”

Her wide eyes grew even wider. “You’re what?”

“Well, step-cousins.”

“You mean . . .” She looked around at the others splashing in the water near us and lowered her voice. “You’re related to that freak?”

I drew back. “He’s no freak. He’s very nice. Well, mostly, anyway.”

“But how can he be your cousin?”

“My Uncle Cy is married to his mother.”

“You mean that Cora lady?”

“Yes, Cora. She’s my aunt.”

Another glance around, another whisper. “She has the consumption, you know.”

“I know. But Uncle Cy has sent her to the finest sanitarium in the East. She’ll be all right.”

Marlene eyed me warily. “Well,” she said, “this is a surprise. Who knew the devil was Mr. Marryat’s stepson? He’s only seen around here once in a blue moon, you know, and even then he’s all covered up from head to toe. Only a few people have seen his eyes. I never have and I hope I never do.” She paused long enough to shiver dramatically. “Most people assume he’s some sort of hired help. You know, like Mr. Marryat feels sorry for him, so he allows him to work here and sleep in the attic or something.”

“He doesn’t sleep in the attic,” I said, rolling my eyes at her.

“How was I to know? No one really knows anything about him.”

“Maybe you would, if you talked to him.”

“He’s the one who won’t talk to anybody. He looks at the ground when he walks, like he wants to pass people by without being seen.”

“Listen, Marlene, he has a name, you know. It’s Jones, and I bet he’d talk to you if you said something to him. Anything. Just hello. You could give it a try.”

She smiled, shrugged. “Well, maybe. If I ever run into him.”

“You’re not afraid, are you?”

“Of course not.” She laughed, but it didn’t sound convincing.

Before I could say anything else, Mother appeared on the shore and called my name. “We could use your help for a minute in the Eatery,” she hollered. “We have a question about the supply list.”

“All right,” I hollered back, “I’ll be right there.”

Before I could take a step toward shore, Marlene leaped toward me and grabbed my hands. “Listen, Eve, we’re going to be great friends. I just know we are. And I want you to meet Jimmy. Tonight!”

“Tonight?”

“Yes. There’s going to be a band playing in the pavilion, isn’t there?”

I nodded. Uncle Cy was bringing in the first band of the summer season, a well-known group from Cincinnati.

“I’ll bring Jimmy and you can meet him, all right?”

“Sure,” I said.

“And he can . . .” Her face grew animated and she laughed.

“He can what?”

“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head. “You’ll see. Just come looking pretty and be ready to dance.”

“With Jimmy?”

She laughed again and swam away. I shook my head and moved toward shore.