Billy found Rich on the aft deck stretched along the transom. The tent and the cots were still in the locker and he slept huddled against the wind in his bag. He stepped aboard and a moment later Rich rolled over and looked up. Billy knew all the answers to the questions he felt obligated to ask, but he continued quietly. “When does your mom get back from Medford?”
“She said she’d call.”
Billy sat on the rail and questioned him, as if they both understood the litany and the requirement of going through it again. “Does she know where you’re staying? In case she hears about this.”
“More or less.”
“Make it more. Who is she gonna call?”
Glass sat up and pulled the bag around him. “Maggie.”
Billy realized the delicate balance of the summer’s relaxed living conditions had suddenly failed. “You know how to get hold of her?”
“No.”
“I better leave word with Murphy you’re here in case she calls him.”
“She won’t.”
Billy wanted to avoid aggravating Glass’ personal wounds. They both chose to repress any emotion. “She might see a paper.”
“Doubt it.”
Billy opened the cabin hatch and started down. “OK. No problem then, I’ll see you back here tonight.” He turned and looked back at Glass. “You’re sleeping here for a while. If anything goes wrong, call Murphy.”
Rich stood up; the bag dropped to the deck. “Can I put the tent up?”
Billy’s voice came through the hatch door. “I’m going to be busy for an hour. Go get yourself something to eat at the Sandbar. Tell Toby to charge me. We’ll put it up together when you get back.”
5 PM: Hecate
He could still feel the cold beer in his hands and smell it splashed out on Lester’s pants, the trailer’s rug, and their life. Billy had asked Glass to leave, because he needed Hecate empty. Rich would not profit by worrying that one more adult in his tenuous life might fail him. Glass knew a lot about Billy, but a lot more history, that he didn’t know and didn’t need to know, haunted William Whitman.
It bothered Billy that he had challenged John before he left for Portland. They’d met in the recovery program and helped each other ever since, but it had always been Bill who lapsed and John who rescued. It occurred to him that he might have been lecturing himself and needed John to listen. Maybe that’s why he needed his truck back, because John would be arriving in it - back before ten, easy. He decided a few hours of meditation would help and brought his cushions up on deck. When Rich got back, they would put up the tent. Home away from no home.
9 PM: Hecate
Billy sat on the cushions watching Glass sleep, occasionally glancing toward the dock. A peaceful rain beaded against the plastic side panel, as he listened to the bay washing against Hecate’s hull and the moorings. Sleep always helped, but eluded him when he most needed it. He could sense its healing power at work in Glass and closed his eyes as if he could drift off sitting up, but the unending stream of angry chatter continued. He recognized the futility of pursuing his thoughts and tried pushing them aside by counting his breath and reciting passages from sutras, but the self-recriminations continued. Gaining control over the darkness within him had been a long and complicated road with numerous failed detours that swept him into chemical oblivion throughout the seventies and into the eighties. Almost a decade dedicated to healing had driven his demons into retreat, but he knew they hadn’t surrendered. The next decade, the nineties, would be his clean beginning - if he could make it through the night and the next day. He clenched his teeth against the pain in his knees and waited for physical exhaustion to close down his memory of another critical failure.
10 PM: Hecate
His feet had numbed and his knees ached as he slowly unwound his meditation. Intending to give them time to recover before standing up, he glanced at Glass on the cot and turned to check the slip. At the sight of John sitting patiently on the rail, inside the plastic side panel, he jerked with surprise and burst out laughing. “How long have you been there?”
John tossed him the truck keys. “Didn’t want to disturb you. I’m going home to bed. See you in the morning.” He could see Billy was fine and closed the panel behind him as he stepped onto the slip. From the dark he called back. “Sleep.”
Billy smiled and looked at the keys. He knew better than to chase John and offer him the truck again so he could drive home. John had his own way. He stood up slowly and gathered the cushions into a bundle that he carried down into the cabin.
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