“No. I gave you my keys when your father was here.”
“You did, but I dropped them back into your purse when I got back. I also couldn’t get back into the cottage last night.”
“So, how did you manage to do both?”
“Well, seeing as how Brandon had your phone, I figured he might have your purse, too. I didn’t have his number, but I had Joe’s—he gave it to me in case we need anything. So I called Joe and Joe called Brandon, who fished around and found your keys in the outside pocket. I hope that was okay. So your purse is in the back seat of your car now, keeping the wheelchair company.”
“I guess it takes a village to manage me,” she said. “Thank you for doing everything. And mostly for being here.”
He smiled. “It’s a nice little island, isn’t it?”
“That it is. And speaking of Joe,” she made sure she sounded upbeat, dismissing her previous suspicion, “how was your day with him yesterday?” She blanched. “I mean Friday.”
He glanced at her. “It was incredible, Mom.”
She nodded, waiting for him to continue.
Then he replayed his kayak trip from the moment he strapped on the life vest: paddling from Menemsha Pond to Quitsa; seeing the varieties of birds that showed off their distinctive songs; watching the eelgrass beds and their ecosystem ballet. It was as if, in no time at all, Rafe had both met and embraced his Wampanoag roots.
She wondered how Owen would take the news. Hopefully, he wouldn’t try to minimize it.
They stopped at Cronig’s in Vineyard Haven; Rafe pushed her in the wheelchair up and down the aisles while, at her direction, he plucked things from the shelves. Though she’d never liked having attention, she admitted that right now, it was fun.
After they cashed out, Rafe loaded the bags of food that Maddie hoped would last a week. After that . . . well, she wasn’t going to think about that now.
They drove up State Road, past the postcard view of Lake Tashmoo, then the rustic farms and rolling hills into West Tisbury. Maddie told him to turn right onto North Road. It was the route Rex had taken in the opposite direction when they’d picked up Rafe at the boat two days ago. No, she thought. Four days. She kept forgetting that she’d passed the date line of deep sleep.
Like so many Vineyard roads, North was two lanes, one in each direction, edged only by a white line that indicated caution because beyond it was no shoulder, just trees. Lots and lots of tall, thin- and thick-trunked trees that allowed the summer sunlight to keep winking like a mirrored globe high above a dance floor like the one at Maddie’s high school prom whose theme was a retro-disco extravaganza.
She had no trouble remembering that but not that four days had passed since Rafe arrived.Sheeesh.
Before they reached the turn to the access road that rimmed the backyard of the cottage and the parking spot Rex claimed he’d built for her, a siren blared behind them. Rafe pulled as far right as possible and stopped; they craned their necks as an ambulance hurried past, its lights flashing the way Maddie supposed they’d flashed for her. She squared her jaw to keep the blue police lights of her imagination out of her thoughts again.
“He’s probably headed to the beach,” she said.
“Maybe Jaws is back,” Rafe added.
His mother looked to him. “Poor taste, my son. If there’s an ambulance, chances are someone’s hurting.”
“Scolding noted and approved.”
With the ambulance well past them, he steered the car onto the access road. But as they reached the parking area, Maddie saw red lights blinking through the trees, the way the sun’s rays had danced along North Road. This, however, was alarming. Because, unlike the blue ones of her visions, these lights were real.
Rafe stopped the car, bounded to the back door, and yanked out the wheelchair. Then he helped Maddie out and set the crutches on her lap and they hurried toward the footpath. Which was when she heard heart-stopping sounds from down the hill: voices shouting, water gushing, footsteps clomping—all set against a crescendo of crackling and popping.
Then the thicket of trees parted at her grandmother’s backyard, and Maddie saw what the commotion was about.
The cottage was on fire.
* * *
In a lightning-fast instant, Maddie grabbed the crutches from her lap, hauled herself up off the wheelchair, and got a little dizzy. She inhaled a long breath—and tasted smoke. Throwing the crutch on her right side onto the ground, she grabbed Rafe’s arm.
“Help me!” she cried. “I need to get down there!”
Rafe steadied her. “Without the wheelchair?”
“Too confining!”
