Eventually the discussion broke up and the women set off back together, carrying the heavy buckets of water. For a moment I thought that Andrea had forgotten about our appointment. But when they were about halfway back to the hall, she set down her bucket and said something to her companions, pointing back to the water tank. The others also stopped, but Andrea shooed them away and started back. The other two continued on their way and soon disappeared below the ridge. I stepped out of hiding with the sheepish grin of someone caught playing a childish game, and walked up to Andrea.
“Hi there, honey!” I said in a parody pick-up voice. “Want to take in a movie or something?”
A brief smile broke through the strain on her face. For a moment I caught a glimpse of another Andrea, a stranger yet the same, like a photograph from an earlier, half-forgotten period of one’s life. There are said to be several hundred muscles involved in creating the human smile, but when everything’s said and done, muscles are only pulleys, strings attached to flesh. How is it that such simple mechanics can create an effect which seems to give you the person entire, with all their complex chiaroscuro, their desires and potential, doubts and shortfalls?
“There’s the new Nick Nolte and Susan Sarandon at the Bijou,” I continued, encouraged by her reaction. “Then we could go grab a burger somewhere. What time do you have to be home?”
But her smile had already died.
“It’s not safe here,” she said, glancing around quickly. “Something’s going on, I don’t know what. Terri and Gloria say that Mark has gathered all the men together.”
“So what?”
Andrea shook her head impatiently.
“You know that rock-pool by the ocean, the one where …”
She broke off, looking confused.
“Where you go swimming in the summer,” I prompted.
For some reason she blushed.
“Yes. Go there. I’ll come as soon as I can get away.”
The key to everything which followed was right under my nose, if I’d been able to see it. But I could see nothing but the controlled panic in Andrea’s pale brown eyes.
“I don’t know if I can make it,” I said. “I’m leaving today, maybe this morning.”
“You can’t leave.”
I stared at her. Her eyes moved a fraction, fixing on a point just beyond my shoulder. I turned and saw Sam walking toward us. Andrea stepped past me without another word and picked up the bucket of water. As she passed Sam, he caught her arm and said something to her to which she replied quickly. Sam released her as I approached.
“Andrea and I were just having a little chat,” I told him. “She says there might be some problem about me leaving today. Is that true?”
Sam glanced at Andrea, who had continued on her way down to the hall. Then he looked around at me.
“I just went into your room, Phil, and there was a videocassette on the chair by the bed. Do you know anything about that?”
“Oh, that,” I replied casually. “Yeah, I found it in one of the drawers while I was putting my clothes away. I guess it must belong to Mark.”
I wondered if he’d noticed that the tape had not been rewound.
“Anyway, what’s all this about me not being able to leave?” I asked.
Sam’s eyes slowly defocused.
“We’re having a little trouble with the boat,” he said. “Can’t seem to get the engine to start.”
“Any idea how long it’s going to be out of action? I’m kind of anxious to get going.”
Sam nodded vaguely.
“It’s hard to say. Rick’s taking a look at it right now.”
Another thought seemed to strike him.
“You any good with guns, Phil?”
“Guns? What kind of guns?”
“Any kind. You ever fire one?”
“Hardly. I grew up in Europe, Sam. It’s not really what you’d call a gun culture.”
He nodded in the same dreamy way, as though his real thoughts were elsewhere.
“Do you have guns here on the island?” I asked.
Sam gazed at me without speaking for some time. It seemed to cost him an effort to focus. I wondered if he was maybe slightly stoned.
“Sure,” he said at last.
“You do? Why?”
He smiled lazily.
“Because this isn’t Europe, Phil. This is real life, and in real life a man has to be able to defend himself and stand up for his beliefs.”
He looked at me slightly aggressively.
“Right, Phil?”
I shrugged.
“I guess. Except I usually don’t know what my beliefs are.”
Sam looked away at the dark border of woods which encircled the clearing.
“I used to be like that,” he said. “Then one day I found out. I have a feeling that you’re going to find out too. Maybe soon.”
I gestured impatiently.
“Well, it’s going to have to be real soon. Another couple of hours and I’m out of here, boat or no boat.”
He took a step past me, then turned back.
“Oh, just one other thing. Don’t believe everything Andrea tells you. She kind of overdid it with the dope back in the old days and her synapses are fried. She makes up stuff, doesn’t even know she’s doing it.”
“I’ll bear it in mind.”
On my way back to the hall, I discovered that Andrea was not the only one who made things up. Sam had told me that Rick was “taking a look” at the boat, but as I passed one of the prefab houses he and Mark emerged, along with a group of other men, all arguing loudly. I caught the names “Andy” and “Dale” before they saw me and fell silent. They stood staring at me in mute hostility as I walked past.
“Are we having fun yet?” I inquired sarcastically.
I’d given up trying to ingratiate myself with these jerks. I didn’t even care whether Rick was working on the boat or not. Whatever happened, I was leaving that afternoon. If the boat wasn’t fixed, I’d use Sam’s cellular phone and call a water taxi from Friday Harbor. Screw the cost. All I wanted was out.
Back in the hall, the blond was still sitting at the dining table with her three charges, but she had now given up all pretense of keeping order, still less teaching them anything. I wondered why Andrea had been replaced. Sam had given the impression that she was their regular teacher. The children were shouting and throwing things and teasing each other and generally carrying on the way children do. They paused for a moment when I entered, but immediately resumed their racket. Like everyone else, they had evidently realized that I was a person of no consequence in the life of the community.
Back in my room, it was immediately obvious that my belongings had been searched. No attempt had been made to disguise this fact. My clothes lay strewn all over the floor, my overnight bag had been emptied and the contents scattered across the bed. I did a quick check. Except for the videocassette, nothing seemed to be missing. In fact something new had appeared. A pair of jeans and a matching denim shirt in a child’s size were draped over a wire hanger suspended from a hook behind the door. I repacked my bag and stashed it away in the corner. Then I took the child’s clothing and walked out, leaving the door open. There were no locks or bolts on any of the doors, anyway. Presumably the Theosophists had thought such things beneath them.
“Any of you kids belong to this?” I asked, holding up the jeans and shirt.
They stared at me blankly. The blond affected not to notice my presence.
“Pardon me, ma’am!”
Her cool eyes traveled a seemingly considerable distance to my face.
“Are you Melissa?” I said with a suave smile.
“Uh huh.”
My smile broadened.
“I’m Philip. Sam was talking about you. He told me about your gorgeous cat.”
A peevish look crossed her sharp features.
“I don’t have a cat.”
I frowned exaggeratedly.
“Really? Gee. Well, maybe he used some other word. Do you happen to know anything about these clothes? I just found them hanging on my door, and they weren’t there when I left. You’ve been sitting here the whole time, I figured maybe you saw who went into my room and put them there?”