Page 67 of Light of Day
The little girl in the pinafore tugging at her hand. The dark stormy night. The house moving toward the ocean. The word “telephone.”
It wasn’t some movie she’d seen as a little girl. It wasn’t her subconscious telling her that her home was unstable, as one therapist had suggested. It wasn’t about her missing father, her family issues, her ambivalence about the island, or her inner child trying to lead her toward her creative potential.
It was one of her great-grandfather’s stories.
He must have seen things on the island as a child, or maybe his own father, Hennessy, had talked about them. For whatever reason—he did drink a lot—Hector had told them to his great-granddaughter.
Did that mean it was all real? Or maybe partially real? Her imagination and her dream consciousness might have changed things.
When her mother finally relaxed, curled up on the recliner under a crocheted blanket, with continuous episodes ofTop Chefplaying on the TV, Heather pulled out her laptop and did a Google search.
“Move” and “houses” and “Maine.”
All she got was a bunch of real estate and moving company references, so she tried again.
“Move” and “houses” plus “Maine” plus “McPhee.”
An opinion piece from an archival site of old newspapers appeared on her screen.
“Efforts to rid Lightkeeper Bay of the iniquitous presence of incestuous and violent interlopers reached a new milestone today. Dr. Hennessy McPhee has been hired by the concerned citizenry to assess the mental fitness of said residents. Officials say he has developed a simple test involving very basic questions that each adult and child will be required to answer. He’s been empowered to report any incompetency he finds among the populace, if they can be called such, as they are reportedly living a licentious and sinful life away from the watchful eyes of God-fearing folk.
Our beloved Maine society will be much improved once the islands have been cleared of all such dens of iniquity. We wish Dr. McPhee fair skies and following seas as he bravely tackles such a mighty task. We join the respected entrepreneur John Carmichael in calling for Sea Smoke Island to be Dr. McPhee’s first stop. Such natural beauty should not be soiled by such beastly behavior as has been reported and confirmed by passing sailors.
As for those who ask, what are these folks to do if their unwelcome settlements are abolished? The solution is simple. Those who meet the criteria should immediately be transferred to an institute equipped to care for them. Those who do not should feel free to take their houses and move them elsewhere. We are not without mercy. But any community that has proven themselves to be such a menace to decent society must be dispersed.”
Signed, the Editorial Board of the Harbortown Press-Gazette.
Holy shit. She sat back and stared at the words on her screen. Hennessy McPhee had been part of an effort to uproot entire communities in the offshore islands of Lightkeeper Bay. He’d sent some of them to the School for the Feeble-Minded, and the rest had been forced to relocate their homes. They must have floated them away from Sea Smoke, and that was the story Hennessy had passed along, which had then turned into her recurring nightmare.
But how on earth could anyone get away with that? Was it an eminent domain situation? Wouldn’t the homeowners have fought back with every means at their disposal?
There was more to this story than met the eye, she knew it. But right now, she had to share it with Luke. She’d found that missing connection between her ancestors and his. Hennessy McPhee and John Carmichael had colluded to clear the way for the construction of the Lightkeeper Inn.
She could just call him. But this was so huge that she wanted to tell him in person. All was calm now. She’d double-locked the kitchen door, and would do the same with the front door when she left. The night’s drama seemed to be over.
Giving it a little more time, she did some more searches on her computer, until her mom was asleep, snoring gently in the recliner. She scribbled a note on a piece of paper and tucked it into the blanket.Went to Luke’s, be back soon. Call right away if you need anything.
As she was pulling her hand away, her mother grabbed it, making her startle. “What’s…what are you…”
“I need to talk to Luke about something. Will you be okay here for a little bit?”
Her mother’s sleepy gaze struggled to focus on her. “Sure thing, I’m fine, honey. But aren’t you getting a little too close to that boy? He’s a Carmichael. He’ll always be a Carmichael.”
“That’s not fair, Mom. He’s more than his last name, just like I’m more than a McPhee. So are you, by the way.”
“Carmichaels and McPhees…” Sally’s eyes were drifting closed again. “My grandpa always said never trust a Carmichael. He said they’ll knife you in the back over a dollar.”
A shiver ran down Heather’s spine. “You never told me he said that.”
“I didn’t have to. You weren’t hanging out with any of the Carmichaels. They always looked down on us. My grandpa hated them, but he was scared of them too. Every time he drank his rum, he’d start talking about how the Carmichaels ruined his father’s life.” Her voice got softer as she drifted back toward sleep.
“How, Mom? Can you remember how?” Her mother had never mentioned any of this before, and Heather was afraid if she fell back asleep, she never would again. Maybe the fire had rattled loose a memory.
“Gossip, rumors…ruined his reputation. Smeared his character. Drove him to drink. My grandpa always said the McPhees would have been fine upstanding members of the community if not for the Carmichaels. Everything started with them. The drinking, the alcoholism, he blamed it all on the Carmichaels. I told him he was wrong because he should take responsibility for himself. Told the same thing to my father. Alcoholics like to blame everyone else. Same as your dad, sorry to say. You have to take accountability. That’s what I tried to do…I really tried…I wish you could see it…”
“I do, Mom. I do see it.”
Sally smiled just before her eyelids closed completely. Her mother was asleep, having dropped a series of little bombshells that she might not even remember tomorrow.
