Sonny was shouting at Eric now, and Faith could hear Eric calling him a "son of a bitch.”
“Motherfucker" was next, and Sonny tried to land a punch, but a number of men had closed in and were swiftly escorting them into the parking lot.
Samantha and Arlene came running over to Faith.
“Do you think Eric's all right?" Samantha asked.
“I think the men who took them out will take care of things, but maybe we should go and see if he needs a ride home"—and see what's happening, Faith said to herself, although the part about the ride was true. Eric should definitely not be driving in his condition.
The philosophy on the island seemed to be to let the men fight it out, just get them away from the women and children, and to a place where they couldn't do damage. When Faith and the girls walked into the parking lot, Sonny and Eric were rolling on the ground. Margery was standing to one side. Faith went up to her.
“This is ridiculous. They could seriously hurt each other. Can't we do something about it?"
“I think `hurt each other' is what they have in mind, Mrs. Fairchild, and if I could stop Sonny, I would. Besides, if they didn't do it here, they'd do it somewhere else.”
But some of the men seemed to think enough was enough. Freeman was among them.
“That's it," Faith heard him say, and he waded in between them. They were still screaming at each other. Eric's white pants were covered with dirt and streaked with blood from a cut on his cheek. Sonny's nose was bleeding and looked a little crooked. "Fuckin' faggot!" he yelled as he tried to get away from the two men who held him. Margery walked over and stood slightly behind him.
Faith didn't know what to do. Eric was in no condition to drive, but she was unsure how to approach the situation. Freeman must have had the same thought and was offering Eric a lift. "I can drive myself, thank you," he replied with exaggerated politeness and crawled into the front seat of his car. Freeman pushed him to the passenger side and they took off. Nan climbed into their car and followed.
Faith took a deep breath. "I'm sorry you girls had to see this."
“Don't worry, Mrs. Fairchild," Arlene assured her. "We have fights like this at every dance. They drink too much, then they get rowdy.”
Eric wasn't going to feel very rowdy in the morning, although he probably would feel a lot of other things, Faith thought. They walked toward the Woody, passing Sonny and Margery with a cluster of friends and relatives around them. Sonny was slumped against the side of his car, but he didn't seem to be injured. Margery had pushed up the sleeves of her shirt and was busy holding a handkerchief to his nose. As they passed, Faith paused to say something, couldn't think of an appropriate remark, and kept going with a brief nod and slight smile to Margery that vanished immediately when she got a closer look at Margery's left wrist.
She was wearing Faith's bracelet.
The silver cuff bracelet Tom had given her.
The one missing after the break-in.
Faith gasped and increased her speed, almost pushing the girls into the car. Although it was possible that Margery had bought one like it from the same silversmith on the island, it was not possible that she had deliberately made a scratch on it. No, Ben had done that with a fork when Faith had left the bracelet on the kitchen table one day.
Faith's mind was in a whirl. Margery and Sonny the burglars? It seemed reasonable if they had known about the quilt, but how did they know about the quilt? The image of Margery standing in the Frazier's doorway flashed into Faith's mind. Of course, she had overheard them discussing "Seek and Ye Shall Find." But to wear the bracelet to the dance, what gall! Of course she would not have expected to see Faith there. And she had been wearing long sleeves. Faith tried to remember. Was it overactive hindsight, or had Margery tugged on her left sleeve when Faith had sat next to them?
She was driving fast, but Arlene and Samantha, already beginning the dissection of the evening that would be the main topic of conversation for the next few days, didn't notice. She had to finish identifying the quilt squares. The Prescotts might not know she had made photographs, but Arlene could let something slip, and it was only a matter of time before they would. Then there would be another break-in—or worse.
Driving back along the causeway after dropping the girls at Arlene's, Faith didn't see a single light. There were only two streetlights in the village, and then you were plunged into darkness. She slowed down. There were no other cars on the road and she didn't know whether to feel relieved or anxious. The last thing she wanted now was a pair of headlights following her down the long dirt road that led to the isolated cottage. But Pix would be there waiting, and she relaxed when she remembered.
Pix and the dogs.
Faith let herself in quietly. The dogs barked dutifully and briefly once they recognized her. Only the porch and kitchen lights were on, which meant Pix must have gone to sleep. She debated waking her, but decided to wait until the morning. She wanted some time to think what it all meant. Eric's behavior at the dance, then the fight, and the bracelet. She looked in on the two children soundly asleep in Ben's room and took a peek at Pix, who was also soundly, but more noisily, asleep.
She got into bed and revolved the various scenes of the evening around her brain. In less time than it takes to go Loupty Lou, she was asleep too.
Asleep, that is, until she heard the dogs begin to bark.
8
Dusty had been joined by Henry and Arthur. Pix never liked to leave the dogs home alone. Surely she must be awake with all the barking! Faith quietly crept out of bed and moved quickly to the door, pausing to pick up the brick doorstop that had been disguised with needlepoint. Then she ran down the hall into Ben's room. She had no time to waste.
The children were sleeping peacefully. She closed the door and positioned herself behind it with the brick raised in her hand. She'd have the element of surprise on her side. Whoever it was downstairs would have everything else. She couldn't hear any footsteps, and the dogs had calmed to occasional whimpers of delight, as Pix had predicted. Maybe the intruder had brought snacks.
The house was quiet again and she waited. She had time to be afraid now, and she was terrified. Finally the boards on the stairs creaked. The intruder was coming up.
She heard the hinges groan as the door to her room was pushed slowly open. Then nothing.
The steps began again and moved down the hall past the room Pix was in. They were making straight for the nursery. The doorknob turned slowly. She watched it, hypnotized with fear. The door began to move. Faith got ready. "Faith," came a soft voice, "Faith, are you in here?" She yanked the door open. It was Tom.
“What the hell do you mean giving me a scare like that!" she whispered angrily at him, then threw herself into his arms.
“I tried calling, but there was no answer. I'm sorry, honey, but I was getting too edgy down there. They didn't need me tonight or tomorrow, and I wanted to see my family. Intact, as it were."
“You were the one destined for injury," Faith said as she dropped the brick that had become cemented into her palm.
“Why don't we go to bed and you can tell me everything in the morning?" Tom suggested as he lifted Faith up in his arms and walked toward their bedroom. "Just one question. What are all those dogs doing here?"
“I'm beginning to realize there are few easy explanations on this island, but this one is fairly straightforward. Pix had one of her allergy attacks, so she stayed here and I took Samantha and Arlene to the dance tonight. Of course, the dogs couldn't stay all by themselves at the cottage.”
Tom lowered Faith onto the bed and started peeling off his clothes preparatory to following her. He started to climb in and stopped. "I didn't even look at Ben. Just a minute, darling, I'll be right back.”