Far out in the water, I saw Lucas’s head. Wind picked up, ruffled the surface.

I watched the spot that was Lucas, small and unremarkable. Could have been a seal or a rock.

“All my life I’ve had dreams,” Cole said. “About certain places. About this place.”

I felt suddenly sober, the celestial feeling of scotch in my bloodstream dissolving into a kind of foggy humidity. “You dream about the island?” I asked.

“And about certain people,” he said.

“What people?”

Lucas was swimming to shore, he was standing in the shallow water. He was moving toward us, naked, beautiful, sea-creature, moon-creature.

“Shit!” he said. “Cold!”

“What people?” I asked again.

Lucas pulled his clothes on, shivering, exhilarated. He was grinning. He looked like he might take off flying, unfold surprise wings and lift into the darkness.

Cole laughed. He turned to me. “Ignore me,” he said. “I’m drunk. I’m drunk and nostalgic. I’m having déjà vu.” He touched my arm, and I felt warmth radiating from that spot, star, starfish, sunspot, gold.

Chapter 6

6

When I woke in the morning the house was empty. I felt haunted by a dream, something that lurked at the edge of my memory just out of reach. Lucas’s bed was a tangle of sheets. There was a note for me on the kitchen table in Cole’s unfamiliar handwriting. We have gone together to seek our fortunes, it said. Meet here for lunch? I went to work, but after the noon boat had come and gone, I felt restless. I’d thought Cole would stop by the booth. I’d looked for him. I wanted to see him. When I left for lunch, I didn’t even tell Jim Cardoza I was going.

From the beach, our house looked shabby: the missing shingles we hadn’t bothered to replace in the roof, the faded paint. I wondered how it looked to Cole. Where was Cole, and what had he done all day while we were at work? Was he at the inn, or was he here in the house waiting for us? I pictured him opening the doors of our house; I imagined his fingers touching the old pages of our books; I saw him looking into all our mirrors.

I stood in the doorway of my home. “Hello?” I said. The house was quiet and sunny, dust suspended in light coming in the living room windows. I crept upstairs and peeked in all the bedrooms.

From my bedroom window, I could see the lawn and the dock and the bay. And I could also see Cole, who was sitting cross-legged at the end of the dock.