Page 13 of Never Forever
I was off that boat like a shot.
The Piedmont Island had a wooden pier, and at the end of it, there was a path. To the right was the bird colony and the little unmanned welcome center.
To the left was a cobblestone path that led to a huge ornate iron gate that squealed when I pushed it open. I walked past dozens of thick lilac trees, an old outhouse that was falling in ruins, and then the path opened up to the estate.
I mean, you couldn’t call it a house and it was more than a mansion.
The house was old grey stone that had been hauled to the island by Carrie and Annie’s relative a million years ago. There was a big wide porch with columns and bird nests. The windows were really pretty. Some were round and some were regular and some were stained glass.
The front door was huge and carved out of oak. It was shut tight. All the shades were pulled down on the windows too. Like no one was home. Or at least no one wanted to let in any light.
Suddenly, I felt weird being there. Mr. Piedmont was the kind of guy to shoot someone for coming on his property uninvited. However, I stood there in the open and no one even opened the door.
“Hello?” I cried. There was only the caw of the birds.
I walked slowly up the yard of sea grass and sand and climbed the porch steps which sagged and creaked under my feet. The paint was chipped and the windows were dirty. The house looked a little rough up close.
“Hello?” I called again. It was silent. Eerily silent. I knocked. The windows rattled in the panes and finally I heard some movement inside and the door opened.
The oldest Piedmont, the grandmother who gave half the island to the state for the bird colony, stood there. She rarely left the island. I remembered seeing her a few times over the years on the ferry. She was sweet. Weird, but sweet.
She wore a shapeless yellow dress, a fur coat and a pair of rainbow crocs. She also had a joint in her hand.
“Hello, honey,” she said. “You lost? Birds are that way.”
She pointed with the joint over the trees to the birds filling the sky.
“No. I’m Matt Sullivan. My dad runs the ferry.”
“Oh, Patrick’s boy! My goodness, look at you. You’re so grown up. How old are you? Eighteen? Nineteen?”
“Fifteen. I…ah, go to school with Carrie.”
“Oh, well. Isn’t that something. What can I do for you, Matt Sullivan?”
“Well, we just haven’t seen the girls or…ah…Mr. Piedmont in a while, and we just wanted to check. I guess. That everything is okay.”
Gran, as she was called, looked around as if to make sure the coast was clear. Then she leaned in, a smile on her face.
“Everything is grand. Absolutely grand. I’m celebrating.” She lifted the joint and took a haul off it. “I mean, everything is shit, at the moment. We’re all pretending to be very sad, of course. But I know that eventually everything is going to be fantastic. Don’t worry about The Piedmont Women, we always land on our feet.”
Dad pulled the horn on the ferry letting me know I had two minutes to get back to the boat.
“You better go. Your father waits for no man. Schedules have got to be kept.”
“Okay. Well…do you need anything? I mean, can I do anything for you?”
“Hmm. Can you get your hands on any more of this?” she asked, holding up the joint.
I shook my head. “I run track so I don’t smoke.”
The old woman just shook her head in disappointment. “Youth today.”
“What doyou think is happening on the island?” I asked Dad over dinner that night.
It was my turn to cook, which meant we had eggs, bacon and toast. I could eat eggs and bacon for every meal. We sat at our little kitchen table, under the window. Dad sat at the head of the table and I could have sat at the foot. But that was Mom’s spot even though she’d left so long ago I had no memories of her sitting there. Still, it remained empty.
“You mean about the Piedmonts?” he asked and I nodded. “I don’t think about them at all. You shouldn’t either.”