Harbinger in the Mist (Arms of Serendipity) (17 page)

Her breakfast having been ruined, lunchtime found Lindsey famished. She made herself a grilled cheese and some tomato soup, careful to watch out for anything abnormal occurring as she cooked. Eli had gone for a walk so he didn’t join her, but he assured her he’d be close by should anything happen. She felt oddly exposed in the house all alone, though, so she ate on the servant’s porch, watching the mist float along the reeds of the estuary.

Eli and Lindsey met Maddie and Michelle at the barn as planned a little before 6:30 p.m. They loaded up a couple of blankets, small flashlights, a camera, and some drinks into Michelle’s Jeep and headed out to Kiawah Island. The drive to the beach was mildly uncomfortable for Lindsey as she was stuck in the little backseat beside Eli. He seemed content to be sitting so close, but it made her twitchy. She wanted to touch him, to maybe lean her head on his shoulder, but she couldn’t.  She was like a little piece of metal, and he like a strong magnet; it took all her strength to stay put. She began to count the reflectors in the middle of the road to take her mind from the tension.

Maddie twisted in her bucket seat so that she could see Lindsey’s face. “Hey, are you free Wednesday evening?”

“I’m off work, so yeah. What did you want to do?”

“I’ve been meaning to tell you but with the storm and the house and everything I kept forgetting. Mom and Dad are throwing a ‘Countdown to College’ party. Dad hosts a Lowcountry boil every year, but this year it’s more of a going away party for ‘Chelle since she’s moving in at Clemson on Thursday. They’re
saying
it’s for the both of us, but I’m not moving out or leaving town. I think they just don’t want me to feel left out.”

“Yeah, sure … I think. What’s a boil?” Lindsey imagined a large, communal hot tub.

“It’s an outdoor party with a shitload of seafood. Boiled, of course. Dad takes it above and beyond a traditional boil, though. He loves spending the day cooking and sees a party like this as a good excuse to expose friends and family food than they’re not used to and probably wouldn’t normally try. This year, he’s making gator tail bites, elk chili, and brown rice with quail medallions amongst other things. He’s been planning his layout and defrosting meat cuts since last Sunday.”

“Well, Dad does like to cook for people, but it’s also a little self-serving. He knows that Mom won’t let him go hunting this fall if the freezer is still full,” Michelle added as she turned off of the highway onto a long, two-lane stretch of road that twisted through remote marshlands. Men were wading in the mid-calf deep muck in several places. They each carried white five-gallon buckets.

“They’re harvesting oysters,” Eli leaned over and whispered. Lindsey nodded once.

They pulled into a public parking area just off the beach at dusk. They climbed out of the jeep and headed toward the shore. The girls each carried a flashlight, Eli walked behind them with the blankets and cooler. A few other people were walking the moon-lit beach, too. They were all watching for the same thing – a nesting Loggerhead.

Maddie pointed to the numerous houses that lined the coast. “See how they’re all dark? It’s illegal to have lights on facing the shoreline during nesting season because it confuses the turtles, especially the hatchlings since they use the moonlight shining off the water at night as a beacon.” She pointed toward a large crowd of beach combers. “A lot of these people out here are whistleblowers looking for homeowners violating the law.”

In various places where the powdery sand of the beach met oat-covered sand dunes were large posts sticking up in the air, each with a number written on it. The top of the posts were painted bright orange and carried a notice that said “TURTLE NEST. DO NOT DISTURB.” These posts were placed next to large, metal screens that were attached to the ground with wooden spikes.

“Hey, Madds, are those nests?” Lindsey asked.

“Yeah. The Kiawah Turtle Patrol checks the beach every morning for new nests. When they find one, they check it out, mark it, and cover it to keep raccoons and dogs out. But the holes in the wire are still big enough for hatchings to escape.

“How do they know where the nests are for sure? The eggs are buried, right?” Lindsey wondered softly.

“Oh, you’ll see,” whispered Eli so close to her ear that his warm breath lingered at her ear lobe. She wished he’d stop doing that, it was distracting.

They chose a spot next to a large sand dune and spread out the blankets. Eli sat and stretched his legs out, propping his body up on both elbows. Lindsey’s posture was much more tense; her knees were drawn up to her chest and her arms were wrapped around them tightly. For a couple of hours the only sounds came from the waves crashing on the moonlit beach and the lonely caw of the occasional sea gull. The girls ate chicken salad sandwiches. Eli settled for a mango, explaining that he didn’t eat meat. When they were done, the girls tossed the crusts of their bread to the hovering gulls.

“Here comes one,” said a female voice from a few yards away.

The twins stood up and quickly went to see. Eli took to his feet, too, and held his hand out to help Lindsey up. She accepted, for no other reason than to feel his hand in hers. To her surprise he held on to it as they walked to where a small crowd holding dim flashlights stood watching a turtle that was big enough for Lindsey ride.

“Look at the track that girl just made,” Eli pointed out. “That’s how they know that a nesting mother has visited. There will be tracks to and from the nesting location.”

He was right; the tracks were obvious. As she trundled up the beach, the Loggerhead’s nose dug a trench in the sand. That trench, combined with the indention from her the bottom of her shell and the shuffling of her flippers, ended up looking more like large tire tracks than something left by an animal. She stopped every so often to rest, then she would continue on up the beach. In the water, turtles were agile and graceful, but on land moving was difficult, time consuming, and apparently exhausting.

Lindsey was astounded not only by her size and determination to get up to the dunes, but also by her beauty. And she was beautiful. Her heart-shaped shell was a mixture of deep browns, reddish-oranges, and creams; algae was growing on it in several places. Her front flippers were a reddish-brown and cream. Her large head, with its thick, horny beak was reddish-brown, too. The underside of her chin and her wrinkled neck were much lighter.

She seemed oblivious to the awed audience around her as she dug in the sand. She had a belly full of eggs and no time to spend on modesty. She used her flippers to sweep sand away in a large arc. She dug and dug until she was satisfied that the hole she’d created was deep enough for her clutch. She backed up and began to lay her eggs. One by one the eggs, which looked like slimy ping pong balls, fell into their sandy nursery.

“Why is she crying?” Lindsey leaned over and whispered to Eli. “Does it hurt?”

“No, it doesn’t hurt. She’s not really crying at all; it’s more of a way to excrete the salt that she’d taken in from drinking sea water. It also flushes sand from her eyes.”

It was mesmerizing to watch and it wasn’t until after the turtle packed sand on top of the nest and began her descent back to the ocean that Lindsey realized that she had not only been holding Eli’s hand the entire time, but that she was leaning against him.

He let go of her hand and knelt on the ground. As the turtle shuffled by, Eli held his hand out so that her shell brushed against it. “Ah, Caretta caretta. Bene ambula et redambula.” he whispered.

She reached the ocean and was quickly engulfed by the dark, rolling water. The group dispersed soon after that. As they walked back to the car, Lindsey was aware of Maddie’s watchful eye. She wasn’t sure how she would explain the body language between her and Eli tonight because she wasn’t sure herself. 

She fell asleep in the Jeep on the ride home. She was awakened by Eli carrying her along the familiar path between the Robbins’ barn and Retreat house. The stars sparkled brightly in the inky black sky above. 

She tried to sit up, to get him to put her down, but he just whispered, “Shhhh. Go back to sleep. I’ll get you in safely.”

She barely remembered him putting her on her bed or covering her up.

The cell phone woke Lindsey the next morning. She looked at the caller ID with only one eye open.
Ugh,
she thought.

“Good morning, Maddie,” she said gruffly, her voice heavy with sleep.

“Get up. Michelle and I are going riding. We’re saddling up Rosita for you right now. Meet us at the barn in five.”

Lindsey looked at her clock. “It’s eight in the morning, Maddie. Can we do it later.”

“Oh, no, hot momma. It’ll probably be our last chance to ride together before Michelle leaves for school. So if you’re not here in five minutes, we’re coming to get you.” Maddie hung up.

Lindsey laid the phone on the nightstand and rubbed her face. She threw back the covers and paddled her way to the bathroom. Once she’d peed and brushed her teeth, she pulled her hair back into a ponytail and threw on some jeans and a t-shirt. 

The minute she was in the barn, Maddie handed her the reigns to Rosita. Lindsey was hesitant; the last time she’d ridden this thing, it went berserk.  But she had bigger things to worry about right now – she knew what the girls wanted to talk to her about.

“Don’t worry. We’re going to head down to the water’s edge today,” Michelle said, misreading the angst on her face.

They mounted the horses, the leather of the saddles protesting under them, and rode in the opposite direction of Retreat House. The minute they were away from the barn, Maddie started.

“So what is going on with you and padre?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Uh-huh. We saw you last night. Holding hands on the beach, leaning into each other, whispering. Are you corrupting the good father-to-be?”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I mean, I’d like to corrupt that!” Michelle interjected, slapping at the air with the ends of her reigns as if the leather straps were whip. Maddie shook her head in mock disgust.

“We are just friends. Seriously. We’ve formed this alliance thanks to that, that
thing
in the house.

“You told him about all that?”

Lindsey recounted what had happened the morning before and what Eli had said about it, how he had sensed something there when he first walked into the house.

“Wow. He ‘senses’ it. Is he psychic?”

“I don’t think so. Rather, if he is ready to devote his entire being to God, wouldn’t he be attuned to the spiritual world more so than the average person?” Lindsey pondered.

“Well, I definitely think that he’s as in to you are you are to him. Everyone on that beach last night could see it. Maybe God sent him here this summer to show him what life could be like without the collar, that he can still serve Him and have companionship, too.”

“It’s not like that, Maddie. We just met.”

“Maybe, you know, maybe it’s fate. Y’all could be soul mates.”

Lindsey rolled her eyes and Michelle made several more inappropriate comments before the topic of conversation turned to Michelle’s big move to the Upstate and the party at the Robbins’ house the next evening.  The girls had promised to help their mother prepare the backyard for the boil so they headed back to the barn.

An hour later, Lindsey found herself on the familiar path home, the heather beneath her feet was soft and squishy. She had a piece of hay in her hand and broke little pieces off of it here and there as she walked. She thought about what Maddie had said – that Eli was interested in her, too.
No
, she told herself.
He was just being protective
. He was trying to prevent her from being hurt by something evil. Wasn’t that what men of God were supposed to do anyway?

She watched a fat bumblebee buzz between the colorful clusters that had burst forth on the various bushes and shrubs that were encroaching the path thanks to the summer sun and daily rain showers. Birds chirped in the mossy canopy above.

Before long, Lindsey was mounting the steps to the front porch slowly, still lost in thought. She screamed when a set of hands grabbed her from behind and jerked her off the steps.

Eli held her against his chest for a second, his face buried in her hair, before placing her gently on the ground. He grabbed a stick and walked up the steps slowly. He swiftly placed the stick on the porch with one hand and then reached down with the other. When he stood back up, he was holding the head of a large snake. Its body – a mixture of dark and light shades of brown – coiled tightly around his arm. It’s red, forked tongue flicked menacingly.

Once the snake was away from Lindsey and Retreat House, Eli grabbed it by its tail with his free and jerked until its head snapped from its body. “Damned animal of demons,” he muttered and made his way quickly toward the woods on the other side of the house.

“Was … was it … poisonous?” Lindsey stammered when he returned.

“Aye. It was a Copperhead. I don’t know why it was up there. You were getting ready to step right on it.”

“But, you were behind me… how did you see it?”

“I just walked out on the porch. I saw it when you were about halfway up the steps. If had I yelled at you, you might have been startled and fallen or stepped on it anyway. I didn’t want to risk you getting injured, so I jumped the banister and grabbed you from behind. I was rather noisy. You didn’t hear me?”

“No… was it because of … the thing in the house?”

“I suspect as much. It seems to either have it out for you or it’s trying to antagonize me, see how far it can push before I leave. Perhaps both.”

Aimee poked her head out of the door and greeted them, interrupting the conversation.

“Hey, Barbara from next door just called asked if they could borrow some Hibiclens and Neosporin. Wind Dancer has a cut that Maddie is cleaning. Do you mind taking this back over to the barn?”

“No, Mom. I’ll take it.” She left Eli standing at the foot of the steps and her mother on the porch.

Maddie had Wind Dancer chained to the cross ties and was bathing her when Lindsey walked into the barn. She gave her friend the cleaner and ointment. She then walked over to the stall where the little colt – still unnamed – stood, watching her curiously.  She took a slice of apple out of Maddie’s metal feeding pail, and gave it to the baby horse.