Jack Beale 00 - Killer Run

about the same time they finished eating their lunches.
    “That is bizarre,” said Tom. “You know, you couldn’t write a story like this and have people actually believe it.”
    “I know.”
    Max had been relatively quiet during the entire time Jack was telling his story, but now she looked at Tom and asked, “So Tom, what should we do?”
    “I’m not sure there’s a lot you can do, except keep an eye out for this Alfred and be careful. He definitely sounds a bit unstable to me.”
    “But what if he shows up again?”
    “Call me. Listen, I have to get going. Don’t worry Max. I’m sure everything is going to turn out just fine.”
    He said his goodbyes, leaving Max and Jack alone in the bar. “You’re working tonight?” asked Jack.
    “Yeah, at five.”
    “What time should we get going in the morning?”
    “Early. The funeral service is at eleven.”
    “Well, on the bright side, with this shitty weather, you probably won’t have a very late night.”
    “I hope not.”
    * * *
    Even as Alfred drove away from the Inn, he could still hear their voices, telling and retelling the story of the burning of the ship. His head ached from the cruel laughter of those who would profit from his family’s misfortune. He knew what he had to do.
    Alfred didn’t remember anything of the ride back to the motel. As he got out of his truck, the cold wind hit him like a slap in the face. The voices followed him, and as he fumbled with the key, he could feel their presence pressing against him. Finally, as he pushed the door closed, the voices became quieter, but he knew they were still out there. The windows rattled and shook, betraying their presence. He was tired. He collapsed onto the bed, not even bothering to remove his coat, and his eyes closed. “Patience. Have patience,” the last remaining whisper kept repeating in his ear as sleep overwhelmed him.

CHAPTER 84
    IT DID TURN OUT TO BE an early night at Ben’s. The weather hadn’t improved, and if anything it seemed colder and windier. Jack drove over to pick Max up, and when he pulled into the lot at Ben’s he parked his truck so he could look out over the harbor and check on the boats. He had fallen into this routine when Irrepressible was still moored there, and even though she was now gone, the habit remained.
    Most of the boats had already been hauled out for the winter and all that remained in the harbor were the few lobster and fishing boats whose captains continued to fish throughout the year. It was a hard life. With his engine running and the headlights shining out over the water, he could see only the Sea Witch clearly. The higher than normal tide and the strong east wind created the illusion that she was sitting higher than the parking lot as she tugged and pulled at her mooring.
    A wave crashed against the rocks in front of his truck. Its spray, lit by his headlights, sparkled like so many shards of glass before hitting the windshield. As the wind buffeted his truck, he remembered that day when he and Max had barely escaped with their lives as they watched Irrepressible sink. The spray from another wave hit the windshield and a tear rolled down his cheek.
    The door to the cab suddenly opened and a blast of cold air hit him. He turned. It was Max, and as she climbed into the cab she asked, “Jack, why didn’t you come in? What are you doing sitting out here?”
    Before he turned to face her he tried to wipe his cheek. He wasn’t sure if she had noticed or not. “Oh, I just got here. I was watching the Sea Witch .” Then, trying to change the subject, he said, “Man, you weren’t kidding when you said you were ready.”
    “You were thinking about Irrepressible , weren’t you?”
    “Yeah, I was,” he said softly. Then he added, “On the bright side, I’m really glad that I don’t have to worry about her on a night like this. Look,” he said motioning to the way the Witch was bucking and swinging.
    She didn’t turn her head, but rather kept looking at him. “I suppose. Let’s go home.”
    Silently he shifted into reverse.
    The relationship between a boat and a sailor can be as personal as that between two people. Life on the sea is unforgiving and if a man takes care of his boat, that boat will, in turn, take care of that man. Irrepressible was gone, burned and sunk by a madman who had tried to kill them. Yet they had survived and he hadn’t. Jack was so grateful for that. He had loved Irrepressible , but he loved Max more.
    *