Charon's Crossing

"All right, Beverly. I'll be there as soon as I can. Yes, just wait. I know it's dark, dammit! This is Elizabeth Island, not the Riviera!"

She slammed down the phone, turned into Matthew's arms, and shook her head.

"She says she sent a telegram."

"Perhaps she did."

"Not that it matters. What on earth's gotten into her? We see each other twice a year at best, talk on the phone a few times more than that, and now, all of a sudden, here she is, where I least want her."

Matthew smiled. "Surely, you can endure her company for just a little while."

"A little while? Who knows how long she plans on staying?" Kathryn said darkly. "And what are we supposed to do while she's here? Pretend you don't exist?"

He wanted to remind her that he didn't, not in any way her mother or anyone else would understand, but the time for such reminders was long past. Instead, he kissed her and did what he could to pretend this was just another evening and Beverly's visit just another interruption.

"For tonight, anyway," he said, "that's probably precisely what we should do. You go and pick her up and when you get back, I'll stay out of sight. It will be easier for you that way, love. You can talk with her without being interrupted by my presence."

He was right. She went upstairs and slipped into a pair of shorts and a cotton shirt. It was impossible to imagine what misguided maternalism had brought her mother to the island but she had the feeling she'd need to muster all her concentration to deal with it.

Moments later, she stood with Matthew at the front door.

"Okay, I g

uess I've got no choice but to go get her."

"Neither of us has a choice tonight," he said softly. "Each of us must do what we must."

She knew what he meant, that he would have to keep out of sight, at least for tonight, and that she would have to deal with her mother. Still, that same sense of unease she'd felt earlier swept over her.

"Matthew? If something were wrong, you'd tell me, wouldn't you?"

He smiled, took her hands in his, and kissed them.

"I love you," he said. He drew her close to him. "Now, go on. Go get your mother."

"I'll miss you tonight." '

"Aye. As I will miss you."

She smiled, reached up, and brushed her mouth to his.

" 'Til tomorrow, my love," she whispered.

" 'Til tomorrow," he said softly, and then, very gently, he sent her out into the night.

* * *

He watched from the doorway until the lights of her vehicle had faded. He listened as the sound of its engine grew faint. When he could hear it no longer, he shut the door. He had planned carefully; it was just a matter of pausing to pick up a wrench and light a candle.

Then he went to the cellar.

It smelled of damp and of mice. The odor was not pleasant but he did not mind for it was of life. Moonlight fell across the earth floor and across the propane heater, standing silent in the comer.

It was important to move quickly now, so that it would all be done well before Kathryn's return. He had paid careful attention to Hiram's warnings about the faulty heater; he knew which was the supply valve, which the pipe that connected to the tank outside.

He put the candle high on a nearby shelf. By its flickering yellow light, he carefully loosened the connection between the heater and the supply tank. Then he opened the valve.

There was a hissing sound and the air around him began to fill with the stench of rotten eggs. The gas was heavier than air; it would fill the room eventually but, at first, it would stay close to the floor.