Topside, the wind nearly knocked me flat. Jandi was tucked into a corner like he’d been told to go there and stay put till told otherwise. Daniel and Breakers were playing out lengths of the oldest rope in the lockers, lengthening the tow of the funeral rafts, then tying the free end to whatever they could find on the building wall. I sussed it out pretty quick: with the tide heading in, the rafts bobbed against the brick. When it turned, they’d be drawn downstream into the open water between the buildings. The rope would burn with the raft, releasing the debris into the current, hopefully to carry it out to sea. At least, that was the idea.

Easy to say, not so easy to do in rough weather.

With the tow lines finally secured, we drew the rafts alongside. The rain alternately spat and pummeled. Melville rocked on the deepening swell.

“Got the torches?” Daniel was impatient to get on with this.

I signaled Jandi to the cabin door. Inside, we unwrapped the oiled paper protecting the torch heads, filling the cabin with the cool reek of paint thinner. I pulled Rousseau’s parting gift from my gut wallet, weighing it in my palm. I meant to keep it as a gift, not a loan. Like, when would the river of cheap, mass-produced goods flow by us again? Ever?

In the drafty open doorway, the lighter failed to hold a flame. Fearful of setting the cabin and its precious plant cargo alight, I backed in a short step and got a tiny tongue of fire. It did the trick. The torch half-exploded.

“Hold it high!” I thrust it into Jandi’s willing fist and sent him racing toward the stern, then followed with my own. Then we both stood staring down at the rafts, blazes in hand, unable to make the final gesture. Should we say a prayer? I never prayed. Nor had I understood how one as dark-minded as Rubio could find a reason to, but he claimed he did, now and then. Jandi’s lips were moving, so maybe that’s what he was doing. Or maybe just saying a last goodbye.

We were using up precious time. Breakers never showed much emotion, but Daniel was beginning to radiate urgency. He had a boat hook handy to guide the rafts away, once caught. Still, no one said, hurry up so we can cut and run.

Finally, I lowered my torch to the near corner of Rubio’s raft. Think of it this way, dear friend. I am finally lighting that candle for you.

Even in the rain, the flame grabbed hold, racing along the raft’s rough planking. Jandi let go a gasp and flung his torch at the center of his raft. It landed between the two small wrapped bodies.

Fire erupted. The guttural whoosh carried over the wind.

“Nice one!” Breakers crowed.