Willow (DeBeers 1)

"You're prince of industry enough for any girl,'" I replied, and he laughed.

"I've got to get back to the table. We're fighting over a mere five million dollars."

"Chump change," I quipped.

Now you sound like a Palm Beach girl," he teased. "See you soon. I really don't think it will be all that much longer, and I'm only a few driving minutes away now."

"If you hurry and settle, you can share my cheese and crackers."

"Um. That's the best reason to settle that I've heard all day." We both laughed before we said goodbye.

Fooling around with him over the phone buoyed my spirits some and put my nerves in the closet for a while. Then Jennings brought my light dinner. and I sat on the balcony nibbling on crackers and cheese and pieces of fruit, Funny. I thought, but I'd either been too busy or too preoccupied to think about my college friends. It also surprised me how quickly I had relegated Allan to a back shelf in my emotional memory. Maybe that was because whenever I did think about him and recalled the way he had reacted to my troubles and problems, I grew angry and disappointed.

When I was little. Daddy used to say you have to toss your bad memories and dreams into a dark hole and bury them. First, visualize the hole, and then enjoy dropping them in, one by one. Sometimes, that really did work.

I wanted it to work tonight. It was a good night to try. The darkness seemed to creep up on the world this evening, coming in from the sea and the distant horizon like some blanket being unfur

led until it reached our shore and rose up and over the house. A heavily cloudy sky made the stars play peekaboo, twinkling between the shoulders of the billowing marshmallow whiteness and then disappearing in a wall of bluish gray that ominously waved the finger of some coastal storm. I saw the breakers were higher, whiter. If the ocean could growl, it would right now, I thought.

However, it didn't rain. It turned out to be an idle threat, the clouds finally coming apart, shredding into long slivers of paper-thin fog being chased back toward the horizon by winds from the west. The sky cleared considerably. The victorious constellations brightened with pride and turned the heavens into a dazzling display of jewelry once again. I felt mesmerized by the majesty and had almost fallen asleep staring up at the sky when suddenly the loud clap of a door being slammed below jerked me back to a fully awake state of mind.

I leaned over the balcony and looked down at the beach house. Moments later. Linden appeared, walking quickly toward the beach, his arms flailing about as if he were having a vehement argument with himself. Even from this distance. I could see his hair was wild. Under the glow of the stars, his head looked on fire, in fact. He paused, gazed up at the house and at me. I thought, and then charged forward, disappearing around the bend.

What had happened? How did she tell him? What had she said about me?

I looked back at the beach house, but my mother wasn't coming out after him. Concerned now. I hurried out and down the stairs to the rear loggia. I looked for signs of Linden and saw none. I was worried for him. I remembered how shocked and disturbed I was reading my father's story, but for Linden to hear it from his mother now, so many years later, must have been twice as traumatic. He had to understand that he wasn't alone, that I shared his astonishment. I thought, and started after him.

I trudged along the beach until I was well beyond the property, but I didn't see him. I called out for him and listened, but he didn't respond. On my way back to the house. I paused where he and I had first begun the painting and saw something piled on the sand. Approaching, I discovered it was his clothing. I spun about and searched the sea. Finally, I spotted his head just above the water, bobbing with the waves. I ran down to the shoreline and called out to him. Either he couldn't hear me, or he wouldn't.

I saw his head disappear, and my heart just about dropped into my stomach.

"Linden!"

I turned toward the house. There was no one else outside. I spun around like a madwoman, screaming for someone. anyone. In the inky darkness, there were only the shadowy shapes of some bushes and trees. What was the point of my shouting? Looking out again. I saw his head emerge and then go under once more. Now in a true panic. I stripped off my clothing as quickly as I could and waded into the sea.

We had a pool at home. and I was a fairly good swimmer, but it was one thing to swim in a pool of calm water and another to swim against the powerful ocean, especially the way it was tonight. It wasn't long before I was breathing hard, from both the effort and my fear. I swallowed water, spit and choked and fought to keep myself moving toward him, or at least where I had last seen his head. For a few moments, I could not see him at all, and when I turned about in the water. I realized I had swum out quite far.

I shouted and shouted for him. The sea made me bob and struggle, but I kept it up as long as I could until I actually felt the cold pang of fear travel up my spine along with my desperate attempts to catch my breath. In a purely defensive mode now. I started back toward the shore. A wave lifted me and brought me down so hard I thought I had all the breath knocked out of me. It was as if a strong hand were holding me under. too.

I cried out in desperation and started to panic, flailing about wildly to keep myself afloat. Suddenly. I felt something wrap itself around my waist and pull me forward. Shocked and terrified. I started to battle against it, only to realize it was Linden, holding me up.

"What are you doing?" he screamed. "Stop it! Swim slowly, calm down."

He kept his arm around me until I started my stroke again, and together we drew closer to the beach until. finally, I could stand. I coughed and spit out the saltwater and then, finally, catching my breath, turned to him. In the starlight, we were both naked. glimmering.

"What were you doing?" he asked me. "I thought you... were drowning," I said.

"That's right. I was drowning," he replied, "but the ocean refused to accept it."

He trudged back to the shore and fell onto the sand. I walked out as quickly as I could and started for my clothing.

"You were going to save me?" he asked, the laugh in his voice. "You, by yourself?"

"Yes," I said. "I was."

"Another one who hopes to save the world?" he asked with cynicism dripping from his lips. "You see how hard it was for you to fight against the waves out there," he said. "Get used to it. Willow. I know now that's your real name. Willow, Well. Willow, there's a tide of fate sweeping over both of us. You have as much chance of stopping it as you do turning that sea around."

"I don't believe that," I said.