The Invisible Husband of Frick Island by Colleen Oakley (autobiographies to read .TXT) 📗

Anders blinked.

“Yes!” BobDan growled. “I’d like you to load those on the boat.”

Anders blinked again. “Will you knock ten dollars off the ticket price?”

BobDan took a small step backward. He appraised the boy once more, seeing a glimmer of something he hadn’t noticed on the boy before. He nodded. “Deal.” And then he watched, amused, as the boy, scrawny as a toothpick with even fewer muscles, sweated and strained as he lifted the first box—filled with Lady Judy’s fifty-pound bag of birdseed. He groaned and grimaced under the weight, and nearly dropped it twice, but he didn’t give up. And BobDan had to admit: If nothing else, the boy was persistent.

Chapter 11

Piper sat in Tom’s easy chair in their small den, mumbling under her breath as she eyed the opposite wall and cataloged each and every insect housed in the fourteen shadow boxes that spanned it. It was a meditation of sorts, something she did when she was thinking or bored or just needed a reminder that the world could be constant at times. Familiar. It was also a memorization exercise to test her brain—to make sure she didn’t forget.

She started with the beetle family: the acorn weevil, Conotrachelus posticatus; the banded net-wing beetle, Calopteron discrepans; the broad-necked root borer, Prionus laticollis; and so on, always pausing when she got to the northeastern beach tiger beetle. One of the quickest beetle species on earth (it actually ran so fast it went blind), it was the first bug Piper added to her collection when she moved to Frick Island. But the insect was now considered endangered in Maryland, and though Piper knew the one that she trapped years ago was of little consequence to why they were now endangered, she still got a pang of guilt for taking it from its natural habitat.

She continued naming the insects one by one, even though she knew she should get up. She needed to shrug off her pajamas and pull on a T-shirt and shorts and go to the wildlife center, where Bill Gibbons would be expecting her, but motivation had been a hard thing to come by recently.

As she was trying to force energy into her legs, the trilling of the phone in the kitchen gave her the last burst she needed to finally stand. She reached the phone on the third ring and picked up.

“Hello?”

“Pipes!”

“Mom!” Piper was flooded with relief at hearing her mother’s voice, mixed with a twinge of sadness. “Thank you for calling me back.”

“Sorry it took so long. I’ve been out in the field all week.”

“And how is the Gold Coast of Australia?” Piper asked, putting on the happiest voice she could muster. Her mom had moved there right after Piper graduated from high school—and Piper had only seen her once since, when she flew in for her and Tom’s simple wedding ceremony a little more than a year ago.

“A mess. Flooded again.” Only her mother could talk about devastating natural disasters with an edge of excitement in her voice.

Piper paused and narrowed her eyes at the pewter wall clock. “Wait—isn’t it the middle of the night over there?”

“Early morning. Four a.m. Wanted to input this latest data before heading back out today.”

Piper rolled her eyes. Her mother would work twenty-four hours a day if she could; and sometimes did.

“Tell me, what’s going on with you? Three messages—must be important.”

“Remember that stack of blueprints you had made—for the living shoreline and jetties project?”

“Of course.”

“Where are they?”

“Why? Did the town change their minds? Is there funding?”

Piper hesitated, not quite sure how to explain why she needed them. “Not exactly.”

“Piperrr . . .” Her mom drew out her name. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t ‘nothing’ me.”

“Just—do you know where they are?”

“Hmmm . . . I think I gave them to Bill. If he didn’t toss them, they’re likely somewhere in that disaster of a storage room he calls an office.”

“Oh, good. I’m headed there now.”

“Please tell Bill I said hello. He’s the only one on that island with any sense.”

“The only one?”

“Tom is lovely, darling, but he did choose to be a waterman. He gets docked points for that—and for keeping you on that godforsaken place.” At the mention of her husband, Piper’s stomach went a little hollow. Her mother had never understood why Tom didn’t want to get an education, make something more of himself, and consequently felt he was holding her daughter back as well. Not to mention, she thought deep-sea fishing was a dangerous career, which was why Piper hadn’t told her mom about the storm months ago, not wanting to worry her even further. She felt a pang of guilt at keeping it from her, and a pang of something else, too, at the thought of that dreadful day. She swallowed and closed her eyes, picturing what Tom would likely be doing right now—standing on his boat, checking crab pots under the almost-noon sun, and she immediately felt a little better.

“I like this godforsaken place.”

“I know you do. Which is why you don’t have any sense either. I’ve gotta run, honey. Tell my favorite son-in-law I said hello.”

“He’s your only son-in-law.”

“That’s why he’s my favorite. Oh, and Piper? Whatever you’re up to, be careful. You know how people are out there.”

Piper shivered.

“Love you, darling!”

“You, too,” Piper said, but her words went unheard—her mother had already hung up.

—

Four long, desolate blocks off the main street, the Frick Island Wildlife Center was less a “center” and more a double-wide trailer that looked as if it had just fallen from the sky in a tornado, squashing a patch of seagrass instead of a wicked witch.

Anders stood outside near the cinder-block steps, sweating under the direct heat of the sun. If he had a life mantra, it would probably be the one his dad oft repeated, also known as the five Ps—Proper Planning Prevents Poor Performance. But for the first time in his life, Anders