The weight of water - Anita Shreve [82]
“Anethe,” I said.
Whereupon the blood left her head altogether, and she fell down in a wondrous sort of collapse that I am sorry to say struck me as somewhat comical in nature, the knees buckling, the arms fluttering out sideways as if she would try to fly, and it was only once she was on the ground that I was able to unlock my limbs and move toward her and raise her head up and in that way help her back to consciousness.
When I had her in her bed, and she had nearly recovered her color, we spoke finally about Louis and about the fearful rage that this incident might provoke in Evan, and it was decided then and there between us that I would not tell my brother, but rather would suggest to my husband that there had been some disappearances of beer and honey and candles in the household for which I could not account, and that without raising a fuss I thought it might be wise to terminate our boarder’s lease.
Unfortunately, however, I was not present at Louis Wagner’s dismissal and, as a consequence, John did not quite heed or remember my precise advice, and said to Louis that because I had missed certain household items it might be better for Louis to look elsewhere for lodgings. Louis denied these charges vigorously and demanded to see me, but John, of course believing his wife and not his boarder, stood firm and told Louis that he would be leaving the next day. The following morning, as Louis was preparing to board Emil Ingerbretson’s schooner for the passage into Portsmouth, I remained in the kitchen, as I did not want an unpleasant confrontation, but just before sailing Louis came up from the cove and sought me out. I heard a noise and turned to see him standing in the open door. He did not speak a word, but merely stared at me with a look so fixed and knowing I grew warm and uncomfortable under his gaze. “Louis,” I began, but could not go on, although the expression on his face seemed to dare me to speak. Truthfully, I could think of nothing I could say to him that would not make the situation worse. He smiled slowly at me then and closed the door.
Thus it was that Louis Wagner left Smutty Nose.
I THINK ABOUT the weight of water, its scientific properties. A cubic foot of water weighs 62.4 pounds. Seawater is 3.5 percent heavier than freshwater; that is, for every 1,000 pounds of seawater, 35 of those will be salt. The weight of water causes pressure to increase with depth. The pressure one mile down into the ocean is 2,300 pounds per square inch.
What moment was it that I might have altered? What point in time was it that I might have moved one way instead of another, had one thought instead of another? When I think about what happened on the boat, and it was a time that was so brief — how long? four minutes? eight? certainly not even ten — the events unfold with excruciating lethargy. In the beginning, I will need to see the scene repeatedly. I will hunt for details I have missed before, savor tiny nuances. I will want to be left alone in a dark room so that I will not be interrupted. But after a time, I will not be able to stop the loop. And each time the loop plays itself, I will see I have a chance, a choice.
Thomas pulls me by the arms up onto the deck. He tries to wipe the rain from his eyes with his sleeve. “Where have you been?” he asks.
“Where’s Billie?”
“Down below.”
“It was my last chance to get any pictures.”
“Christ.”
“We started back the minute it began to rain.” My voice sounds strained and thin, even to myself.
“The wind came up half an hour ago,” Thomas says accusingly.
“The other boat has already left. I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Billie’s all right?”
Thomas combs his hair off his forehead with the fingers of both hands. “I can’t get her to put her life jacket on.”
“And Adaline?” I ask.
He massages the bridge of his nose. “She’s lying down,” he says.
Rich hoists