They stood before the house on their way to the dock. The day was still bright, but the shadows were now growing long in the afternoon and there was a wall of clouds off to the west.
"I think that we should hurry a little, Lia," he said, "that could be the first of the cold rains that come here in the autumn. I only need to get my clothes and the papers that Elena bought for me from the barn."
He came back from the barn dressed and carrying the rest of his few things. She'd gotten dressed herself in the meantime. "Don't you have anything for the cold?" she asked.
He shook his head, "Let's go now."
The wind picked up even more as they got underway, but once out of the channel and pointed at the town, it helped to speed them on their way. "Don't you want to get a last look at your island?" she shouted over the breeze.
He shook his head as he began to pull the old shotgun shells out of the box to begin tossing them overboard. "No, I've seen enough of it."
Lia watched the deliberate way that he did it. He saved the ones loaded with silver slugs for the last. Reaching for the old scattergun he looked at it and then looked up at her.
"I feel strange throwing this away." he said.
"Why didn't you use it on yourself when you finally had it back?" she asked him.
He smiled and broke open the breech to pull out the two shells there. He handed them over to her as he dropped the shotgun over the side where it was instantly gone from sight on its way down to the deepest part of the lake. She looked at the old shells and noticed the dents in the primers.
They'd been fired but they hadn't gone off.
"I tried all seven of them against my chest yesterday, many times in each barrel. They are too old to work anymore." he said with a shrug.
She stared at him, and thought of kissing the two dud shells for saving his life. She let them go overboard as well.
She shook her head, "And you knew this and yet you played our hunt all day with me, knowing that I might have killed you? My old friend is the bravest man ..."
She pointed to her weapons, "Please throw mine over too, and don't forget the throwing knives. We can't travel with them."
They got to the marina dock and she hustled to get him into her rented van as soon as she could after returning the boat. She twisted the key and set the temperature control as high as it would go and she drove them to a clothing store. The sky was completely overcast now and the gloom of the late afternoon was almost a palpable feeling.
Twenty minutes later, he had his first jacket and Lia was pleased that he'd chosen one like hers. "We still look like a set," she laughed as they trotted through the cold rain.
Nikki noticed a face that he knew in the window of the realty office. He asked Lia to come with him for a moment. He had something to do, he told her.
Stan Beamish smiled as he shook hands. "This is a surprise. I can't believe that you're allowed out on your own." Stan winked.
He introduced the woman there in his office with him as his wife, Maggie. When Beamish had introduced Nikki as the subject of Helen's book, the woman stared and then grinned, "Stan told me that the book was written about the man who came to farm on the island, and what he had become. I loved the book, but of course I never believed it, ... Are you really him? You look so young."
Nikki blushed, "Yes."
It was obvious that Mrs. Beamish didn't believe him, but she was too well-mannered to call him on it.
Nikki struggled for a second, "Stan, I consider you to be my friend. I came to say goodbye. I am leaving. Elena and I are no longer speaking. She is signing her books somewhere and we are not together now for a few weeks. If you see her, please tell her that I wish her only the best, but I cannot act like the pet that she wants me to be anymore."
The old man's face fell a bit as he nodded, "I was a little afraid that it wouldn't last between you. I always asked her where you were whenever I bumped into her around here. She always gave me a reason that sounded like you weren't ready to come over. I had a call from her a few days ago. It sounds to me as though she might not be back for a while now. She asked me to look in on you and close the house up for the winter."
"I understand," Nikki said, "Could you also tell her thanks for me? I am sure that she didn't mean for this to happen, but her book has been sort of a gift to me. Please let me introduce you to my friend, Lia," Nikki said. "We were children together long ago, before this curse on our lives. We are going to be married."
Beamish shook the hand that Lia offered, "We've met, Ion. She came to ask me questions a few days ago. Congratulations! So you're like Ion?"
She nodded, "We were lost to each other from the time that we were twelve or so. His wife bit me even before she came here to bite him. She was my cousin and told me nothing about the man who she would marry until it was done. You know him as Ion, and that is his first name, but he is Nikki to me."
"I read the book that you wrote with Helen and I almost knew that it was him in it. It might surprise you to know how far the book has gone. My old copy was purchased in Bucharest, and I didn't begin to read it until I was in the Canary Islands off the coast of Africa. I think you should feel a little bit proud of that."
"I do," he laughed, "I'd never have guessed that it would go that far. My other book never made it out of this area. Where are you going now then? This is a bit sudden isn't it?"
"It is sudden, but you only have to understand us, and it might make a little sense," Lia said, "Neither of us was born like this. We began like you. We were friends from the time that we could say our first words. Our mothers used to bathe us together in the same laundry tub. Nikki and I are leaving to go home to the Carpathian Mountains where we were born. We are getting married perhaps sixty-five or seventy years later than we'd ever planned to when we'd first promised ourselves to one another."
She smiled as an idea came to her. "I think that when we get settled, I would like one day to contact you to give you some notes if you ever feel like writing another book. This one would be about us. It is a long sad tale, but I think now that it comes to a happy ending. You could have a follow-on to the first book. Please give me an email address if this interests you. I would hope that if it does, that you might want to write it by yourself. I have also read the book that you wrote about this area's mysteries. I enjoy your writing style better than Helen's."
