The boys are leaving the island for three weeks: they’re going to a camp in northern Maine. It came about suddenly. One day everything was just as it’s always been and the next morning, this morning, Mrs. G announced at breakfast that they’ll be leaving in four days, taking a bus from Portland. Bea’s not sure what happened but she has a guess. She knows that William’s been spending time with his friend Fred, who’s already in college. Mrs. G rarely lets him come to the island so William’s been staying on the mainland more and more. One night last week Bea heard him come back late, almost at midnight, and by the way he crashed through the house, she knew he was drunk. It’s a miracle he was able to row the boat over and still be in one piece.
Both boys are furious about going. William, for obvious reasons. It’s my goddamn summer, he said under his breath, and Mr. G roared, in his quiet way, sending William to his room. And poor Gerald. He’s never very comfortable in new situations. It’s odd for such a generous soul. Please, Mother, he said, leaning across the table, please don’t make me go. I’ve already started organizing another scrap metal drive for next weekend. Oh, you’ll have a grand time, she said, waving her napkin in the air. I hear it’s such beautiful country up there. You’ll get to sleep in the woods, just like you do here. Bea can handle the scrap metal, can’t you, dear? As Bea nods, she wonders what Mrs. G really thinks. Doesn’t she know how hard this will be for him?
Bea doesn’t quite know what to think herself. In one way, she sides with Mr. and Mrs. G, if this is, in part, about Fred and his friends. They frighten her. Once, in the market, one of them brushed past her while she was waiting to check out. Hey, Chuck, he called to his friend. Here’s that British girl we’ve heard so much about. He gave her a look, up and down, and she hadn’t known how to respond so she just stood there, dumb and mute. Later, on the boat ride home, she thought up a million smart responses. She should have stood up for herself in the moment. William dismissed her when she told him later. He didn’t mean anything by it, he said. She didn’t tell him how the boy looked at her. What did you say about me? she asked, and he shook his head. Why would I talk about you to them, he said, and it was just the way he would talk to Gerald.
William’s always going on about wanting to go somewhere, to do something different. Now he has the chance to do just that. She’d love to go to northern Maine. To spend three weeks hiking and camping. But G, she feels for him. She knows how hard this is. She knocks on his door, in their code. G, she says, let’s row into town. No response. G, she says again, a little louder. Come on, let’s go. He opens the door, and he’s been crying. This stinks, he says, lying back down on his bed, wrapping rubber bands around his ball. Why do I have to do this just because they’re mad at Willie? I know, she says. But it’s only for a few weeks. She walks over to his window and lifts the curtain. The air is so clear that she can practically see the clapboard on the houses in town. You should be thinking about me, she says, stuck here with your parents. She turns around then to see him smile, and she’s reminded of that day on the dock, so long ago. How his smile had been the first thing that made her feel at home. Come on, G, she says again. Beat you to the boathouse!
Later, they sit on the town dock, before heading home. I was thinking earlier, Bea says, about the day I met you all. About how you came rushing up to say hello. William was being all proper but you were just you. You must have been scared to come here, Gerald says. I guess, she says. It’s such a blur now. Is it horrible, he asks, not looking at her, to have your father gone? Bea shrugs. I think it’ll be worse when I get home, she says. Here there’s little difference, right? She looks out toward the island. I hadn’t seen him in over two years. He hasn’t been part of my daily life. So it’s hard for it to feel real. Yeah, he replies. I get that.
What I can’t figure out, she says, is where he is. I talk to him, G. Is that weird? She wouldn’t talk about this with William. She can tell Gerald anything and knows that he will understand. He never judges. No, he says, laughing. I talk to myself. I think that’s way weirder. I tell myself: you need to do this, you need to do that. It’s like having Mother inside my head. They both laugh. Sometimes, Bea says, I feel as though my dad is right here, with me. That he helps me make decisions. I think that’s great, Gerald says. I wish I had someone to help me. Then he turns to her. In the sunlight she can see flecks of green in his eyes. William’s eyes are that same shade of green. But what do you think happens when people die, he says. Do you believe in that stuff from church, about heaven and hell and all that? Or is it just over. Is your dad just gone?
Bea has no idea. She’s even asked her father the same questions when she talks to him late at night, or when she’s out for a long swim or row. I wish I knew, G. But I don’t. So far I haven’t seen all that much evidence of that benevolent God they talk about. It’s hard for me to believe in the stuff at church, I guess. Yeah, he says. It’s hard to figure out. I’d like to believe, though, he continues, I really would. I want you to see your father again after you die. I mean, he says, waving his hands, pushing the air back, I don’t want you to die. But I want you to have the chance to be with your dad again.
Oh, G, she says. What a nice thought. Honestly, you’re just the sweetest. And Bea leans over and kisses him on the cheek. I couldn’t have asked for a better brother. I’m so lucky to have landed here, with you. Gerald’s cheeks are bright red and he doesn’t look at her but stares out at the ocean. I love Maine, he says after a pause. I want to keep coming here, summer after summer. I want to bring my family and my grandchildren. I want to die here and be buried on the island so I can be here forever. It’s the best place in the world. Bea agrees. To think that she could have lived her whole life and never seen this island. This place that feels like home. She loves the view from here, too, seeing the whole of the island, with the house hidden on the far side. A secret, of sorts, known only to a few.