Eighteen
The whole of creation, with all its laws, is a revelation of God.
—William Ralph Inge, theologian, dean of St. Paul’s Cathedral
Scout came to a stop in front of Hulls Cove Visitor Center so that Naki, waiting patiently by the front door, could hop in the jeep. “What’s so important?”
In one hand, he held a copy of theBar Harbor Gazette. “Latest edition.” He unfolded it so Scout could see the headline: “Gold Found at Otter Cliff.”
She gasped. “How did Chase find out about it?”
“He quotes Sophie who quotes Frankie.”
Scout narrowed her eyes. “Frankie spent the whole day with me on Baker Island and never said a word.”
“He might not have known that Sophie would talk so freely. Heshould’ve, but...”
“But this is Frankie we’re talkin’ about.”
Naki gave up a slight grin. “The article states that all the gold has been located. I have to give him credit for that. He could’ve kept that open-ended for the sake of publicity. But...” He turned to face Scout. “He is incorrect about that. There’sstill one last clue: ‘I left it where the ocean weeps, for what I couldn’t carry weighs me still.’”
Scout tapped her palm against her forehead. “How did I forget that! You said you didn’t know what it meant and told Chase to hold off, so he moved on to the next one. In his hurry, he must have forgotten all about it.”
“ItoldChase to set it aside,” he said, “but I had a pretty good idea what the clue meant.”
A thrill ran through her, a tingle of excitement, setting her pulse a tick faster. One more hunt. One more chase with Naki. But right behind the rush came the ache—the sharp, undeniable weight of knowing this was the last. Their last search. Their last discovery. The last time they’d follow a lead together, anticipation crackling between them like electricity in the air before a storm.
She tightened her grip on the gearshift, forcing herself to focus.Keep your head in the cockpit, girl.“So where to?”
“To Weeping Rock out by Schoodic Point.” His voice carried a quiet reverence as he explained the legend—grieving women once came to it, letting the wind and waves carry away their sorrows.
She swallowed hard. Maybe she’d leave a little of her own there too. “I like the sound of that. A weeping rock.” She turned onto the ME-3 West toward Ellsworth.
“The Penobscot people have rocks for everything. Weeping, thinking, laughing.”
She grinned. “Someday, take me to the laughing rock.”
“Perhaps someday,” he said.
But she knew, and he knew, there wouldn’t be a someday.
With that in mind, she had to ask. If this was the last time she might see him, she had to know. And they had a long drive ahead of them. After she merged onto US 1 East, knowing they’d be on it a good long distance before exiting at WinterHarbor, she glanced over at him. “I’d like to know more about your life.”
“My life?”
“Yes. As an...”
“Indian.”
“Well ... yes.”
“It’s complicated.”
“How so?”
He paused, looking out the window, as if taking time to gather his words. “It’s like being seen and unseen.”
“As tall as you are, you feel unseen? Even at Harvard ... you felt unseen?”
