Joe pointed out to Sherri that they were moving toward Amesbury, away from the mouth of the river that led to the open ocean, and that the pontoon was for inland use; Gina and Steve had another boat for the open ocean. “There’s Brooke and David’s dock,” he said, pointing. “And straight ahead is the Rocks Village Bridge, which connects West Newbury to Merrimac and Haverhill.”

“Got it,” Sherri said. She looked around and was able to appreciate the beauty of the summer evening. The threads of color still tangled in the sky. The riverfront houses with docks and boats tied up at the docks. A lone kayaker. The smell of silt and salt and summer. The Brie bites were going like hotcakes—the plate was almost empty. “I feel like I’m in a floating living room,” she said. Joe chuckled appreciatively: another small victory.

The pontoon glided; somebody refilled Sherri’s red cup; people were laughing and talking and it was all very festive. A motor boat passed them going the other way and passengers on both boats waved at one another. Sherri waved too: why not? It was the Fourth of July. The lavender evening was gorgeous. Joe had laughed at her joke. She was doing fine.

Then, almost as suddenly as a curtain dropping over a stage, darkness descended. The little bit of light left in the sky was gone.

And, bang, came a sound, bang bang bang. Each time, Sherri’s heart jumped a little bit more.

She turned away from Rebecca. “I thought you said there weren’t fireworks?” she said. If there were no fireworks, it must be gunshots. She fumbled in her bag for her cell phone. She had to check on Katie. She had to check on Katie. But there were no bars on her phone: no signal.

“Not in Newburyport,” said Rebecca. “Those are the Amesbury ones that we can hear. Are you okay, Sherri?”

“I need to get off the boat,” Sherri said, softly at first, and then, because she couldn’t help it, more urgently. There were no walls surrounding her, but somehow it felt as though they were closing in on her anyway. Her stomach lurched; her brain and heart lurched. She didn’t care who heard her, or what they thought of her. She cared only about Katie. “I don’t have a phone signal. I need to get off the boat,” she said, to Rebecca, but also to anyone who was listening. “I need to make sure Katie’s okay, I need to get off the boat. I need to get off the boat!”

30.

The Squad

Nobody had a good cell signal out there. Nobody. It’s a river! Cell service is unreliable. Eventually, Rebecca calmed Sherri down, and we finished the pontoon ride and went back to the dock. But seriously. Talk about a mood killer.