Catherine's Cross, page 20
On Saturday, Seth took Jenks fishing and they rose at sunrise to get out onto the river. Seth wore his new Columbia fishing shirt that Jenks gave him for his birthday, and he used his new fly rod from Rory to fish for redfish along the marsh grass.
As the morning passed, Jenks found herself relaxing on Dr. Walker’s boat. She lay on the deck and gazed at the heavens. The clouds were puffy white against the deep-blue sky. The sky was so intensely blue that she concluded the ocean was influencing the shade of the heavens. She thought of her sister and how much she missed talking with her.
“Do you remember what Steel’s voice sounded like?”
He stopped the rhythmic motion of fly fishing and looked at her. “Yes, I experience realistic dreams about him. He saves me from harm. In some of the dreams, he protects me from my father, but sometimes the danger is hidden and he tries to warn me. I can hear him call out to me. It’s just as if he were still alive.”
He looked at her caringly. “You’re having more dreams about Gigi?”
“Yes. You already know about the footsteps I thought I heard. On one of the nights that I dreamed about her, she told me to wake up and warned of a danger. I thought she was in the room with me.”
“Our dreams can be vivid at times.”
The quietness on the river was broken by the sound of two F-18s from the Beaufort Marine Station. The two fighters passed directly above in formation and then the marsh became almost silent, except for the sound of the wind blowing through the cord grass.
Suddenly, there was a powerful explosion that sounded like a sonic boom. Jenks and Seth looked at one another in dismay while the blast echoed across the waterway.
“What was that?” Jenks cried out.
“I don’t know. Those fighters weren’t traveling fast enough to make that noise. It sounded as if it originated out in the Atlantic Ocean.”
“Do you think it was an earthquake?”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
When they returned to the Walker property, there were no signs of damage from an earthquake. Seth made a phone call to the police station, and was informed that people from St. Helena all the way to Savannah had reported the booming noise.
In the next day’s edition of the Beaufort Gazette, there was an article about the boom. Seismographs located in Charleston hadn’t registered any earthquake activity. Both the Marine Air Corps Station at Beaufort and the Charleston Air Force Base reported that the boom was not caused by aircraft stationed at either of those locations. The US Coast Guard sent out a message to commercial vessels operating in the area, but none reported feeling an impact from the percussion of the noise.
Jenks read out loud to Seth about the explosion. “The reporter from the Gazette says that noises like this are heard from time to time along coastal areas around the world. He calls the noise the Seneca Guns. Legend has it that the blast is made by the guns of the spirits of Seneca Indians in revenge for being driven out of their lands by settlers.”
“So no one knows what really causes these booms?” Seth asked.
“Apparently not.”
“Some things just don’t have an explanation.”
“Yes, you’re right.”
Monday morning, Jenks drove to Rory’s home to accompany him to a doctor’s appointment in Beaufort. When she arrived, his van was gone, and she went to his door and knocked. There was no answer, and she concluded there must have been confusion in their communication—he must have driven to the appointment alone. Jenks called Seth on his cell phone, and he told her that he had not spoken with Rory that morning.
Before she left St. Helena Island, Jenks drove to the home of Meta and Ida Mae Andrews. There were several cars parked in the yard near their home when she arrived. When Jenks entered the house, three people were seated in the parlor. Jenks rang the bell on the marble-top table. Within a few moments, Jenks heard Ida Mae’s voice. “I’s comin’,” she called out from back of the house.
The door that led to the hallway opened and Ida Mae emerged. As soon as she saw Jenks, the wrinkles on her face changed into a deeply lined expression of happiness.
“Good morning to you, Miss Jenkins. What brings you out our way?”
“I came to help a friend who lives on the island, but he wasn’t home.”
“You can always come to see us. You know you always welcome.”
Jenks glanced to the hall tree and noticed a copy of the Beaufort Gazette on the seat. The front page article addressed the unexplained boom heard throughout the Low Country two days before.
“Miss Ida Mae, did you hear that explosive noise on Saturday?” Jenks asked as she pointed to the newspaper article.
Ida Mae frowned and said, “Yes, Lawd. Dat’s not de first time we hear dat noise.” She took a deep breath and sighed. “I got some ice tea in the kitchen. Why don’t you join me for a glass? Dis morning is already hot.”
Jenks nodded, then followed Ida Mae to the kitchen. She poured two glasses of iced tea and then invited Jenks to sit with her at the table.
“Meta with two clients dis morning. Dey’s troubled by a voice dey been hearing. Dey ain’t crazy—dey both hear de same voice. It says one of dere names.” She shivered when she said this.
“You said you’ve heard the explosive boom before this Saturday?”
“Yes, Miss Jenkins. Once when we was children, and another time when Meta and me was in our forties. Both times someting bad happen afterward. De first time, our cousin was cuttin’ limbs off a live oak tree. His son ’bout our age, and he came to see his papa cuttin’ de tree back. All of a sudden, dis huge limb split off, and it swing down and hit poor Willie in de head. He was dead instantly. I never forget our cousin holding dat little boy and crying.”
“Oh, that’s terrible.”
“De second time we hear it, a neighbor’s daughter got hit by a car. She was walking home from Ripley’s Landing. It was at dusk, and de driver of de car not see her.”
“My goodness,” Jenks added.
“We been praying dat nothin’ gonna happen dis time.”
Jenks took several sips of her tea and said, “I’m worried about my friend. I guess we weren’t clear on our communication. I was supposed to help him get to a doctor’s appointment this morning.”
“Maybe he misunderstand you.”
“That must be it.” She looked down at her clasped hands before speaking. “I had a very strange experience lately, and I’d like to have your opinion on how to think about it.”
“What happened?”
“I was walking past a house in Port Royal, and I saw a young woman looking at me from a second-story window. She had the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen. A few days later, I went back to the house to meet her. When I went on the porch and looked inside, the house was vacant.”
“Did you find out who de girl is?”
“I told my neighbors, the Bernsteins, about it, and they told me that a young girl named Helena Pierce had been murdered in the house in the 1950s.”
Ida Mae’s eyes grew wide, and she took a deep breath. “She appear to you for some reason.”
Jenks folded her napkin and said, “I think she doesn’t rest because her murderer was never brought to justice. I’m worried that my sister cannot rest.”
“The Pierce girl was murdered.”
Jenks looked intently into Ida Mae’s eyes and said, “I think Gigi was murdered as well.”
Ida Mae drew another deep breath. “Oh, my Lawd. Do de police know dis?”
“There’s no proof that Frank Hiller killed her.”
Ida Mae shook her head slowly. “If he guilty, justice will be served one day whether in dis world or de next. You can count on it.”
Jenks finished her tea and sighed. “Thank you for listening to me.”
“I will pray for you and your sister.” She crossed herself and then said, “Both Meta and I will pray.”
“I know you have clients waiting to be seen. I should be leaving.”
“No, Miss Jenkins, you can stay as long as you like.”
“I promised Seth I’d make dinner for him tonight, so I’d better get going.”
“You welcome here anytime.”
She walked Jenks to the front door and waved to her as she descended the front steps. The sound of thunder came from the west and Jenks returned to her car to drive back to Port Royal.
Seth was supposed to come to dinner at six o’clock, but the hour passed and there was no word from him. She called his cell phone twice, but all she heard was the recording of his voice telling the caller to leave a message. By six-thirty, she was nervous about his tardiness, and she phoned the sheriff’s department and spoke with a dispatcher. He told her that Seth was on duty and working a case.
Close to eight o’clock, her doorbell rang, and she rushed to answer it. Seth was standing before her. A look of despair was in his eyes, and his face was pale and tear streaked.
Jenks immediately put her arms around him in the threshold. “What’s wrong?”
He led her to the couch and pulled her into his arms. His red-rimmed eyes looked into hers. “Rory’s dead. He killed himself at Ripley Landing.”
“My God!” she exclaimed.
“Some boys went out to the landing to fish this afternoon, and they saw his van parked underneath a stand of live oak trees. The landing is directly across the river from the Parris Island Marine Station. They noticed there was someone in the vehicle, and when the person didn’t move for some time, they approached the van.” Seth looked into her eyes and choked as he spoke. “There was blood dripping from the driver’s door. Jenks—he shot himself.”
She wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly as he cried. “I should have done more to help him,” Seth said in a trembling voice.
“You did try to help him. He couldn’t have asked for a better friend than you.” Jenks continued to hold him tightly.
“He left a note in his house. He said we’re our own worst enemies and wrote of Sarah Humphries’s treatment at the hands of her own comrades.
Jenks—he said that he was going home. I thought he meant that he wanted to go home to California. I knew he was depressed, I should have figured this out.”
“Please don’t torment yourself.”
Jenks stroked his head and pulled him close to her. Together, they wept tears of grief over the loss of their friend.
Rory was given a military funeral at the Beaufort National Cemetery by an honor guard from the Beaufort Marine Air Corps Station. The chaplain led the funeral service and spoke of Rory’s honorable service to his country and the sacrifice that he made on the field of battle in Afghanistan. A team of seven servicemen fired three rifle volleys. Then “Taps” was played, and two servicemen folded the American flag that draped his coffin into a tri-corner shape. Three spent cartridges were put inside the folded flag before it was gently placed in the hands of his mother, Delores. Her back was bent over with grief and tears fell down her cheeks. Seth sat beside her and put his arm around her as her body shook.
The funeral attire of black seemed to absorb the oppressive heat that had descended upon the Low Country in recent days. Perspiration rolled down Jenks’s back and chest, wetting her dress. She pressed a linen handkerchief against her face and neck to remove the moisture that dampened her skin.
When the services were complete, Seth stood with Rory’s mother. She looked so fragile as tears continued to fall down her cheeks. Rory’s friends and former co-workers came by to offer their condolences, and Jenks remembered Rose from the Shrimp Shack as she came forward to speak with Delores.
“Miz Masters, I sure am sorry about Rory,” she said, wiping tears from her face. Delores shook her hand and thanked her as another mourner came forward.
Refreshments were served in an air-conditioned sanctuary by Marine Corps personnel. Afterwards, Delores left for her flight back to San Francisco and Seth drove Jenks back to Port Royal. She invited him inside, and he collapsed onto the living room sofa. He held his hand out to her and motioned for her to join him on the couch.
Looking into her eyes he said, “I need to be alone for a couple of days. Please forgive me.”
Startled by his statement, she responded, “Are you sure you should be alone right now? I don’t want you to leave.”
He kissed her on the forehead and hugged her gently. “It’s all right. I just need to do this.”
He rose from the couch, and she grabbed his hand as he stepped toward the front door. Tears welled in her eyes. “Please don’t leave.”
He stroked the side of her cheek, but opened the front door. “I’ll call you in a couple of days.” He walked down the pathway in front of her home to his car. Starting the engine, he pulled away and looked back at her. Their eyes locked, and she observed the sad expression on his face.
When she went back into the house, feelings of frustration and anxiety overcame her, and she picked up a glass flower vase and hurled it with all her strength into the fireplace. The glass shattered with a resounding crash that echoed through the room. She started to remove her damp dress, unbuttoning it as she walked down the hallway.
Once in the bedroom, she placed her clothing on the back of a chair and collapsed on her bed. Her grief over Rory’s suicide and the oppressive heat of the Beaufort summer had left her exhausted. She closed her eyes to rest.
When she woke the next morning, she felt weak and chose to rest in bed for a little longer. She thought of the events prior to Rory’s funeral. His mother, Delores, had arrived in town several days before the services, and she and Seth had gone through Rory’s possessions. He had left instructions on his kitchen table as to how his belongings should be dispersed. He wanted to leave Seth his father’s military awards from Operation Desert Storm. William Masters, Rory’s father, had died in battle while fighting in Iraq in 1991. Jenks thought how painful Delores’s memories must be. She lost her husband in battle and now her son to suicide.
Seth refused William Masters’s military awards, insisting that Delores take them back home to California with her. As they cleaned out Rory’s home, Jenks wept as she thought of having to collect Gigi’s possessions for charity. A group of military volunteers from the Parris Island Marine Corps Station had offered Delores their assistance, which she gratefully accepted. Each day, a group of men arrived to help pack Rory’s possessions and distribute some of his belongings to charitable organizations.
There was one item that Delores insisted that Seth keep: the gold pocket watch that had belonged to Rory’s great-grandfather. The watch was made of fourteen-carat gold and had been a wedding gift to Rory’s great-grandfather from his bride. Jenks recalled the inscription carved onto the back of the watch: “Forever, Love Jane.”
Jenks watched Seth cry when Delores put the watch in his hand and closed his fingers around it. She held his hand tightly between her own hands and gazed at him. Before she departed, Jenks heard her tell Seth, “I know you did everything you could to support my son. He told me that in one respect he was a fortunate man—he had experienced true friendship with you. Bless you for what you did for him.”
She sat up on the edge of her bed. Her thoughts went to Seth. Where was he?
Two days passed, and there was no word from him. On the afternoon of the second day, Jenks went to the sheriff’s department and asked to speak with Detective Campbell. The officer at the reception desk recognized her and asked her to sit down while she went to locate him.
Thomas Campbell came into the reception area and shook her hand. “Please come into my office,” he said as he motioned her through the doorway.
He offered her a seat and then closed the door. “Miss Ellington, how can I help you?”
Her voice cracked as she spoke. “I’m worried about Seth. He left after Rory’s funeral, and I haven’t heard from him since.”
“He asked our captain for some personal time, but didn’t say where he was going.” He looked at her for a moment. “I know he cares for you. He told me so.”
Tears welled in her eyes, and she wiped them with her fingertips. The policeman handed her a box of tissues from his desktop, and she removed a couple of them to wipe her tears.
“Please don’t worry. He’s not the type to let people down—I know he’ll be in touch with you.”
She rose from her seat and nodded to the detective. He accompanied her back to the reception area and held the door open as she left.
“Don’t worry,” he told her again as she went down the steps.
She cranked the engine on her Jeep and decided that she would drive to the Walker home to see if Seth was there. As she crossed the Broad River, a rainstorm was moving in from the west. A large crack of thunder sounded, and she turned on the windshield wipers as the rain shower intensified.
She passed the Rabbit Hash Hunt Club and the chapel was almost obscured by the driving rain. Trees swayed heavily in the storm-driven wind. When she reached the entrance to the Walker’s property, rain blew into her vehicle as she rolled down the window to press the gate code.
She slowly maneuvered the Jeep down the drive, and she saw the outline of Seth’s Ford pickup truck parked near the rear entrance of the home. Jenks parked her vehicle beside his, and despite the downpour, she got out of her Jeep and ran to the basement door.
The window on the door was steamed by humidity and rain. She wiped the glass and inside the basement she could see the blurred image of Seth. He was wearing workout clothes and boxing gloves and hitting the punching bag with fury. As she knocked on the door, a boom of thunder sounded, and she watched as Seth continued to pummel the bag. Jenks hit the door with her fist so hard that her hand hurt.
He turned around and came toward the door, opening it for her. “Come inside, Jenks. You’re soaked.”
He didn’t kiss her, but looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m sweaty.”
His eyes were red rimmed, and either tears or beads of sweat were rolling down his cheeks. Jenks put her arms around him and hugged him with all her strength. “I don’t care if you’re sweaty. I’ve been so worried about you.”
