“I’m wet!” Chrissy nearly busted her eardrum with her shouting.
She ran. She picked up at the chorus.
Alive, alive oh!
Alive alive, oh!
Crying . . .
Silence. Evelyn tried again.
Crying . . .
“Cockles.” It came out as a pathetic whine. Evelyn felt her pain. This little jog was flat-out miserable.
And . . .
“Mussels.”
They reached the dock and she slowed her pace, careful not to slide on the treated wood. Evelyn had no idea what time it was, but thank God, she could see the ferry’s running lights in the mist. That sight flooded her with such a rush of relief that she felt tears forming in her eyes. Just a few more seconds. Just a few more feet. “Time to take our boat ride!” She knelt on the dock to let Christina climb down.
“All aboard!”
Evelyn’s head snapped up. No! She stood quickly, grabbed Christina’s hand, and began shouting over the rumble of the ferry engine. “Wait!” She waved her free arm as she ran again. Christina dragged her feet and began to whine.
“Wait! Please!”
The conductor couldn’t hear her, not with the storm, the engine noise, and the bright yellow oilskin rain hat he had yanked over his ears. She could see him prepare to shove off. But this was their only chance—they absolutely had to get on the ferry!
The instant she reached the gangway, she stomped on the aluminum as hard as she could. The vibration alerted the conductor that he had two last-minute fares, and he secured the ramp again and waved them aboard.
They ran up, raced across the outside deck and pushed open the door to the passenger seating area. This particular ferry was en route from Martha’s Vineyard to Nantucket before it would head back to the mainland. Everyone who was going to the Mermaid Festival had already disembarked. The dozen or so passengers continuing on were dry, comfortable, and slightly annoyed by the messy, unruly, last-second arrivals. Evelyn knew how pitiful they must appear. Both of them were drenched to the bone. She was breathing hard and her hoodie was plastered to her head. She surely had a wild look in her eyes. Chrissy was trembling and complaining that she was wet and cold.
Ignoring their stares, Evelyn dropped the heavy duffel bag onto an empty bench, then collapsed right next to it. Her shoulder ached. Her heart was banging against her ribs. But as bad as she felt, Christina looked worse.
“I’m so sorry, baby.” She had just reached out to remove the layers of wet clothes from her niece when the conductor approached, already free of his yellow slicker and hat. He stood over her. “ID, please. Where ya headed?”
“Two one-way fares to Woods Hole, please.” She unzipped Christina’s coat. “One child under five and one adult.” Evelyn pulled off Chrissy’s little jacket and tossed it onto the empty bench in front of them, motioning for Christina to crawl past her and sit next to the window. Only then could Evelyn begin digging into her shorts pocket, eventually pulling out a water-logged wallet. “Here you go.” Smiling, she handed him her Indiana driver’s license and two twenties. He nodded, but didn’t return the smile. “Why don’t you hold on to those fares for just a moment. I’ll be right back.”
She didn’t know what time it was but wondered why the ferry wasn’t moving. She searched the interior of the ferry until she found a large clock positioned over the door to the outdoor seating area. It was 8:07.
“We’re already late,” said a woman two benches away.