The woman laughed tensely.
“Don’t have much need for that.”
They didn’t speak for a few minutes, and then she blew out a breath, and looked around. It was clear she had been as frightened as Edward.
“So, what’s your name?” he asked.
“Mary, Mary Read,” his mystery woman said.
“I’m Edward.” He squeezed the muscles in his throbbing calf before pulling his foot back to stretch his Achilles.
Mary leaned against the other side of the boat to steady herself against the rocking.
“Those your houses?” Mary motioned toward the beach inside the bay.
“Yeah, one of ‘em. They really belong to some rich guy.” He found that stretching his leg out as far as it could go, released most of the pain.
“I’ll take you home, then.”
“Don’t want to watch me swim anymore, huh?”
Mary laughed tilting her head up. Her whole expression loosened in this emotional relief. Then she grabbed the top of her head and let out a squeak.
“My hat! I’ve lost my hat.” She looked over Edward’s shoulder.
Edward got up and looked back behind the outboard motor.
“There it is.” He pointed at the white object floating on the wave about thirty feet away.
Mary put the motor in gear, turned the boat around and maneuvered alongside the flotsam. Edward, leaning over the side, stretched out an arm and grabbed the floppy hat. He let the water drip off it before handing it over to her. Mary didn’t appear bothered by its condition. She put it on still glistening as she took her seat in the captain’s chair. Edward took the seat beside her.
“I’ve seen you catching lobsters in the bay.”
“It’s a good spot.” Mary nodded. She slowly pushed the throttle up and steered them into the bay. The rocking immediately settled when they passed inside the mouth and onto calmer waters.
“Ever been on the beach here?” he asked.
“No. It’s private property.”
“Oh, I see. The bay is public.”
“Where the water reaches is public. It’s hard to put a stake in the sea.”
“Oh, yeah, I guess so. So, did you ever sell your lobster?” He looked over at her.
Mary sat straight-backed, looking intently ahead, completely focused on where she was going, only glancing at Edward before answering him.
“Yes. The restaurant bought it.”
“That’s great!”
“It’s not very hard to sell them. The restaurants always need fresh catch, but the tourists pay more. The big yachts are the best customers. Those people don’t consider price. They’ll hand over a hundred dollar bill and tell me to keep the change.”
Mary’s hands tightened on the wheel to turn it as they came alongside the pier.
“I’ve been spear fishing. Almost every day since my power went out.”
“You don’t have power?” She gave him a look that said she didn’t believe him.
“Yeah, really. That last storm knocked it out. But things aren’t too bad.”
Her eyes narrowed as she continued turning the wheel.
“Hmm. I’ll take your word for it.”
“I mean, what do we really need, if our food is fresh?”
“I need my hairdryer. That’s for sure.”
Edward laughed. Mary smiled and this dimpled her cheeks.
“You would think I’d have learned how to swim by now. I must spend two hours each day in the water spear fishing.”
“Why so long? What bait do you use?”
“Bait?”
Mary gave him another glance, possibly trying to see if he was joking.
“You don’t use bait?”
“Is that possible? I wait for something big to swim by.”
“You should throw out chum. You’ll get them coming faster.”
When the boat was against the pier’s ladder, Mary idled the motor.
“How do you make chum?”
“You don’t need to make it, just buy it. I buy it from a bait shop in Road Town. I can take you to one if you’d like—”
“That’d be great. Let me throw on a shirt and get some money. Want something to drink? Warm water? Warm beer?”
She laughed. “No, thank you. But may I use your bathroom?” She pulled at one of the wet strands her loose hair.
“Yeah – of course – sure.”
Mary killed the engine, tied up and followed Edward to his house. When they were at his door, she looked over at the two larger houses.
“How often do the owners stay there?”
“Never, as far as I know. I guess, like you said, rich people don’t think about money that much. Just a minute.”
He ran inside, lit a candle over his desk, and moved it into the bathroom for some light in the windowless room. Then he grabbed his dirty clothes from the floor and dumped them into the bathtub. He yanked the shower curtain closed before stepping out and letting Mary walk in. When she was finished fixing her hair, he went in to relieve himself.
“Want a banana?” he called out through the bathroom door.
“Ahhh. No, thank you. Did you draw these?”
“The drawing? Yes.” Edward guessed she was looking at the sketches on the bed of an egret he’d seen standing on the beach. “I’m an artist. Please take a look.”
He finished, washed his hands, and stepped outside to find her examining another drawing of a blue heron he’d seen gliding over the sea.
“This is extraordinary,” Mary said.
“It’s nothing much.”
She lifted up another page, holding it to the light coming in through the window. It was his detail of Elkhorn coral and a scorpion fish with its fanned fins extended. She put the sheet down and lifted the next one, a drum fish he had had for dinner two nights earlier.
“It’s so real.” She turned the page to face the window “Extraordinary. Really. You must have drawn every single stripe and scale. How long did it take you?”
Edward, putting on a clean shirt, didn’t answer, instead he savored her voice and the effect his work was having on her. Her attention filled him with delight and he let the feeling wash over him like cool water during the midday blaze. He was so engrossed in it that he didn’t notice the change in her expression.
Mary dropped the fish sketch, letting it float down to the bed, and picked up the next page, a montage of details of her eyes, her hair, her mouth, her open shirt and neck line and her bosom – perhaps generously-sized in that one particular sketching.
It appeared to take some time for her to understand what she was looking at. She slid one page away, and found another and another, all of her. There she was standing on a pier. There she was in a boat that looked a like a 1950’s science fiction rocket ship. She turned her head to look accusingly at Edward.
“What the ‘ell is this?” She barked out each word. “How long have you been stalkin me?”
“Now, wait a second. Wait a second. Wait, look, that’s not what it is – they’re just drawings—”
“Drawings of me that I haven’t given permission for. Why have you made these? How long you been spyin on me?” Mary shook the pages in front of her.
Edward held up his hands as if to stop a truck coming at him on the highway.
“Now, wait – listen, I didn’t follow you around—”
“You spied on me—”
“No, I watched you – I mean saw you, yes—”
“So, you did spy—”
“It’s not spying. Just drawing. I see a lot of beautiful things here—”
“Beautiful things?”
“I mean natural things—”
“What do you mean natural things?”
“I mean just things around me. I draw everything. You’re not the only thing I drew, right?” Edward was pleading with his hands, at first pressing them together in prayer and then a pleading stop or request to slow down.
“Well.” She looked completely stumped in the middle of anger and alarm. “Well, I won’t have someone spying on me. What right have you to draw a person?” Mary shook her head and glanced down at the drawing of her face. “You took a picture of me?”