A Darkness More Than Night

the picture. When Glory died – was murdered – three years before, Raymond had come to live with Graciela. McCaleb met them both when he investigated the case.
    “How was softball today?” McCaleb finally asked.
    “It was okay, I guess.”
    “Get any hits?”
    “No.”
    “You will. Don’t worry. Just keep trying. Keep swinging.”
    McCaleb nodded. The boy had wanted to go out on the charter that morning but had not been allowed. The charter was for six men from overtown. With McCaleb and Buddy, that made eight on The Following Sea and that was the limit the boat could carry under the rules of safety. McCaleb never broke those rules.
    “Well, listen, our next charter isn’t until Saturday. Right now it’s only four people. In winter season I doubt we’ll pick up anybody else. If it stays that way, you can come.”
    The boy’s dark features seemed to lighten and he nodded vigorously as he worked his fork into the pure white meat of the fish on his plate. The fork looked big in his hand and McCaleb felt a momentary sadness for the boy. He was exceedingly small for a boy of ten. This bothered Raymond a great deal and he often asked McCaleb when he would grow. McCaleb always told him that it would happen soon, though privately he thought the boy would always be small. He knew that his mother had been of average size but Graciela had told McCaleb that Raymond’s father had been a very small man – in size and integrity. He had disappeared before Raymond was born.
    Always picked last for the team, too small to be competitive with other boys his age, Raymond had gravitated toward pastimes other than team sports. Fishing was his passion and on off days McCaleb usually took him out into the bay to fish for halibut. When he had a charter, the boy always begged to go and when there was room he was allowed to come along as second mate. It was always McCaleb’s great pleasure to put a five-dollar bill into an envelope, seal it and hand it to the boy at the end of the day.
    “We’ll need you in the tower,” McCaleb said. “This party wants to go down south for marlin. It’ll be a long day.”
    “Cool!”
    McCaleb smiled. Raymond loved being the lookout in the tower, watching for black marlin sleeping or rolling on the surface. And with a pair of binoculars, he was becoming adept at it. McCaleb looked over at Graciela to share the moment but she was looking down at her plate. There was no smile on her face.
    In a few more minutes Raymond had finished eating and asked to be excused so he could play on the computer in his room. Graciela told him to keep the sound down so as not to wake the baby. The boy took his plate into the kitchen and then Graciela and McCaleb were alone.
    He understood why she was silent. She knew she could not voice her objection to his getting involved in an investigation because her own request that he investigate her sister’s death was what had brought them together three years before. Her emotions were caught in this irony.
    “Graciela,” McCaleb began. “I know you don’t want me to do this but -”
    “I didn’t say that.”
    “You didn’t have to. I know you and I can tell by the look that’s been on your face ever since Jaye was here that -”
    “I just don’t want everything to change, that’s all.”
    “I understand that. I don’t want anything to change either. And it won’t. All I’m going to do is look at the file and the tape and tell her what I think.”
    “It won’t be just that. I know you. I’ve seen you do this. You’ll get hooked. It’s what you are good at.”
    “I won’t get hooked. I’ll just do what she asked and that’s it. I’m not even going to do it here. I’m going to take what she gave me and go over to the boat. So it won’t even be in the house. Okay? I don’t want it in the house.”
    He knew he was going to do it with or without her approval but he wanted it from her just the same. Their relationship was still so new that he seemed to always be seeking her approval. He had thought about this and wondered if it was something to do with his second chance. He had fought through a lot of guilt in the past three years but it still came up like a roadblock every few miles. Somehow he felt as though if he could just win this one woman’s approval for his existence, then it would all be okay. His cardiologist had called it survivor’s guilt. He had lived because someone else had died and must now attain some sense of redemption for