Antonine was standing a few feet back from the front door, taking in Bill and Bonnie’s fancy house with an uncertain look, as if wondering whether she should even be here.
“Hi,” she said.
Wow, I thought, she actually seems a bit nervous.
Was it really possible that this fascinating girl was nervous about seeing Dylan Maples? Maybe seeing him, but not me. The units were both gazing at her with huge smiles, which I thought was a bit much.
“Come on in,” I said.
“I’d rather not. Could we go to the beach?”
I didn’t have any problem convincing Mom and Dad to allow us to go. In fact, they even let me off of the big trip to Campbellton. The four of them were planning to have lobster somewhere and visit some things that had to do with the Battle of Restigouche—which actually sounded pretty cool—and I was going to miss that, but I could tell Mom and Dad thought it was important for me to have time with Antonine.
Bill and Bonnie didn’t look too pleased about me missing the trip. They came out to the door and had a proper introduction to Antonine, but they seemed kind of snobby about it, or at least Bill did. On the surface they were all warm and friendly but Bill took a look at my friend in her plain T-shirt and jeans and didn’t even bother to shake her hand or say anything more than “hello” and “how nice to meet you” and that sort of crap. They didn’t ask her one word about where she lived or what school she went to or anything like that, though Bonnie did add that she hoped to see her again.
Ten minutes later, Antonine and I were on the beach, well rid of the adults, at least the Bill and Bonnie part, though Dad had nearly embarrassed the pants off me by wishing me a “great time, champ,” right in front of Antonine.
“What are you the champ of?” she asked with a grin as we hit the sand.
“Anyone’s guess.”
We didn’t talk very much at first, just walked along the beach toward Youghall, which was kind of our area, I suppose. It was funny, usually when I’m with someone and there isn’t a lot of talking, it feels really uncomfortable, but it didn’t with her. We just walked, fairly close to each other, saying nothing, for the most part just looking out at the water.
When we got to Youghall, we sat down on a log and then really started to talk.
“I think we should investigate the ghost ship,” I said. I figured that was a daring thing to say, given how much she didn’t even want the topic brought up.
She just stared at me for moment. I was sure I’d blown it. Finally, she sighed. “You are probably right. I should face this whole thing. Maybe if I learn more about it and think about why my Dad might have thought he interacted with an illusion, I can live with it a little better.”
“Do you want to talk more about your dad? About what happened at the end?” That was another tough subject, but I had the feeling that she hadn’t discussed it at all, with anyone, and needed to express her feelings about it. It was as if I were suddenly that Dr. Phil guy on TV, exploring a personal issue for someone. I was definitely not Dylan Maples.
At first she didn’t respond to that either, but then she started to speak and everything came out in a waterfall of words.
“Like I said, it was only about a month ago. He had not been feeling well for a while. He was never particularly good with stress and we were having a hard time financially, getting calls from the banks. We are fine now that he’s gone. Life insurance.”
She could barely get that out, but she steeled herself and kept talking. She was tough. I thought of how little she had said about her headache after knocking herself woozy in the boat.
“He never really fit in here. Even though we are such a mixture of people and think we are so welcoming, I can actually name people who treated him differently from others because he was black. He could feel it. He just kept working, though, day after day at his part-time teaching job. He was pretty embarrassed by that, since he had such a good position in Alabama. He never said so, he was quite an old-fashioned man about it all, but I could tell.”
She paused again for a while.
“He was such an amazing dad. I believe he is still here, with me and Mom.”
“I have a friend like that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Someone who died.”
“Tell me about him.”
“He was just a guy; a goof like me. His name was Bomb Connors.”
“Bomb? That’s cool.”
I could have kissed her for that. Although, I could have kissed her for just being alive and sitting there, too.
“He was killed in a head-on collision on the big highway that runs through Toronto. What are the chances of that?”
“Not good.”
“It kind of…broke my heart.” Holy crap, I couldn’t believe I said that, nor could I believe that tears were welling in my eyes. This was an emergency! I looked out over the water and tried to remember some Leafs stats.
“That’s understandable,” she said…and took my hand.
Holy, holy, holy, holy.
You cannot imagine what that felt like. I knew she was strong and likely played lots of sports and yet her hand felt like it was made of cream or something. I just about fell off the log. She squeezed my hand and then let go. That was probably a good thing since I was literally speechless when she was touching me. If she had asked me anything then I would probably have sounded like Chewbacca when I answered.
“Your friend is still with you, Dylan,” Antonine said. “The most important things in life are the invisible things, the things that touch your heart. Dad used to say that all the time. We all get caught up in visible things…you know, clothes, money, businesses, politics, that sort of thing, the way we look, what race we are, what culture we’re from. Dad said those things weren’t important. He used to insist that you needed to hold on to what mattered to you deep inside and that was all that was important in the end. He was a very spiritual man. I believe all those things he said. He is with me. He walks beside me every day. To be honest…I see him sometimes—as alive as he was in life—a sort of ghost. I’ve never told Mom that.”
“I…I see Bomber sometimes, too.” I didn’t tell her how vivid it was and that he talked to me when I was really down, or about Grandpa’s ghost, or the one I’d seen in Newfoundland, because I didn’t want her to think I was really nuts.
She smiled. Then she sighed. “I don’t get along too well with other kids in my school, at least I haven’t recently. I have always felt different. I have a few friends, but no one close, so keeping my dad, my best friend, in my heart, is pretty important.”
Wow, I thought, how could this person not have many friends?
“No boyfriend?” I asked. Man, my mouth had been out of control lately. I seemed to be saying any crap that came into my head. Do any guys ever come up to girls and just ask them if they have a boyfriend?
“No,” she said, and she blushed a little.
“That’s hard to believe,” I said. I had no idea who was talking. It certainly wasn’t Dylan Maples or me. It was some guy from the movies or something, who I was imitating. Somehow, I just felt compelled to say these things to her.
“Thanks,” she said, very quietly. “But I don’t have a lot of time for boys. Schoolwork is what matters to me. Both Mom and Dad drilled that into me.”
“Oh, yeah,” I said, “top marks in the school, right?”
“That’s right.” She looked proud, not an ounce of embarrassment. I thought that was very cool too. I could not help again reflecting on how I had let my marks slip lately. I made a little vow to do better.
We didn’t say anything more for a while. We were both looking out over the water toward the horizon where we had encountered that illusion, that ball of fire. I wondered why I had seen it. Was I that upset about things? Had I desperately wanted to see what Antonine had seen?
“I’ve been struggling for a while now,” I whispered. I had stopped thinking that it wasn’t me talking. It was Dylan Maples and me, one and the same. “It’s almost gotten to be like social anxiety or something. I spend a lot of time in my room. And I’m not the nicest person these days, pretty cynical, I guess. We came out here so I could get away from things.”
“And you met me,” she smiled.
“Yes.”
“And you saw the burning ghost ship of Chaleur Bay…twice. You and I saw it together.” She didn’t have to say anything else. I remembered the legend about intertwined fates.
“Antonine…I know I said we should check out the ghost ship more and I know we saw something, both nights, something weird, but I really find it hard to believe that it was anything other than an illusion of some sort, or just a fire on the water.”
I knew I wasn’t being honest with her. When she’d been lying dazed on the boat the other night, I knew I’d seen an actual ship on fire and a burning woman too. I had heard her screaming. I just didn’t want to admit it. I think I was desperate not to.
“I told you what Dad and I saw when we were close to it. You can laugh at me if you want,” she said.
“No,” I replied instantly, “I…I believe you. I…have a confession.” I took a deep breath. “I saw something in detail as well, the night we chased after it…after you hit your head…it looked like a woman on fire at the front of a ship too.” I sighed. “I just haven’t been able to tell you.”
Her eyes had been defiant. Now they softened.
“Thank you for telling me now.”
“I think we need to try to figure this out, Antonine, somehow.”
“Would you do that with me?”
I felt like saying I would do anything with her, but I just nodded. Her eyes grew a little misty again. She reached a hand toward her throat and pulled out the pendant on the necklace she was wearing. I had noticed the small glittering silver chain before, which hung down under her T-shirt. I saw now that the pendant was a small silver cross. She reached behind her neck and pretended to take the whole necklace off.
“My father gave this to me,” she said so quietly that I could barely hear her. “I could never part with it. But somehow, I want you to have it too.”
She reached over, her face up very close to mine, smelling like lavender or something, and pretended to put the invisible necklace around my neck and fasten it.
It was funny. I could feel it hanging there.
“Please,” she said, “don’t ever take it off.”
I swallowed. Even Alice had never offered me anything like this.