Convicted
Page 86
Turning on the light, Tony walked through the garage-like area onto the floating docks and around to the other side of the boat. Francis explained how changing tides made the docks rise and fall. He also mentioned that, occasionally, there were storms which caused the calm seas to rage. A motorized lift hung the boat and kept it suspended above the water. In the case of rough seas, this device protected the watercraft from striking the docks. As Tony neared the controls of the lift, he heard the door to the boathouse open.
Francis entered and asked, “Monsieur, you want to go for a boat ride, oui?”
Tony didn’t know what he wanted. Taking the boat out on the open sea, pushing the throttle all the way down, and feeling the wind against his skin seemed like a good release. “I was thinking about it.”
“Madame el, she’ll go with you?”
“No, she’s...tired.”
Francis nodded. “Oui, bébés, they do that”—he chuckled—“God has not given Madeline and me bébés of our own, but I’ve watched many families multiply here on this island, and the mères—oui—the bébés make them tired.”
Tony nodded; his mind was busy analyzing the control panel of the boatlift.
Francis continued, “And sometimes—sometimes the bébés also make the mères very emotional. Ladies who usually are quiet—having the little bébé inside of them—it makes them loud—and the tears!” He laughed.
Francis’s deep laugh caused Tony to look away from the levers and focus on the man near the doorway.
Francis went on, “The tears, oui! For no reason at all!”—smiling approvingly, he added—“It’s a wonder the pères don’t all go crazy.”
Tony nodded.
“Monsieur, may I help you with the boat? You need to go somewhere? If it is something Madame el needs, perhaps Madeline or I have it at our house?”
“No,” Tony said tentatively—his mind no longer on the boat but on the woman he left on the beach. “It isn’t anything she needs. I was thinking about going for a ride.”
“Oui, of course, you are right.” Francis’ jovial tone lightened the dim boathouse. “Since you’ve arrived, Madame el, she doesn’t need anything. You can see it—the two of you.” Francis walked to the control panel. “Monsieur, this lever here”—he pointed—“it is how we bring her down.” As he depressed the lever, the boat began to descend.
Tony placed his hand over Francis’, stopping the movement of the boat. “No,” Tony said. “I don’t think I need to go for a boat ride right now, but perhaps in the morning?”
“Oui, in the morning! In the morning, I’ll show you the channels and markers. They’re very difficult to see at night if you aren’t used to them.”
Tony patted Francis’ shoulder. “Thank you.” As Tony left the boathouse, they both knew Tony’s gratitude wasn’t for the lesson on the boatlift or the promise of tomorrow’s boat ride.
Following the path during the night wasn’t difficult. Through the years, Francis had done a superb job of controlling the vegetation and creating clear, well-traveled trails. With the addition of the silver rays of moonlight, which occasionally penetrated the lush canopy, Tony’s steps remained confident.
When the path opened to a clearing, Tony saw the warm glow of light coming from Madeline and Francis’ home. As he neared the light, the faint sound of music filled the otherwise quiet air, and the aroma of something delicious taunted his non-existent hunger. Thinking about how early they ate, Tony figured Madeline was making Francis dinner. Looking up the hill, Tony saw the big house. There wasn’t a light glowing from any of the many windows or doors. It looked empty. He wondered if Claire were there or still on the beach. Though he could’ve accessed the house from that side, Tony walked out to the beach to retrieve his sandals. Under the cover of the vegetation, he found them lying in the sand beside Claire’s and picked them up. Looking out toward the beach, he worried. If she were still out there, he needed to go find her. As he scanned the dark shore, he saw her figure coming toward him. Quietly, he slipped up the path.
You have power over your mind—not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.
Marcus Aurelius
Claire’s eyes were accustomed to the darkness. Turning towards the sound, towards the open doors to the lanai, she saw Tony’s silhouette. Again, their words came in unison, “I’m sorry.”
Francis entered and asked, “Monsieur, you want to go for a boat ride, oui?”
Tony didn’t know what he wanted. Taking the boat out on the open sea, pushing the throttle all the way down, and feeling the wind against his skin seemed like a good release. “I was thinking about it.”
“Madame el, she’ll go with you?”
“No, she’s...tired.”
Francis nodded. “Oui, bébés, they do that”—he chuckled—“God has not given Madeline and me bébés of our own, but I’ve watched many families multiply here on this island, and the mères—oui—the bébés make them tired.”
Tony nodded; his mind was busy analyzing the control panel of the boatlift.
Francis continued, “And sometimes—sometimes the bébés also make the mères very emotional. Ladies who usually are quiet—having the little bébé inside of them—it makes them loud—and the tears!” He laughed.
Francis’s deep laugh caused Tony to look away from the levers and focus on the man near the doorway.
Francis went on, “The tears, oui! For no reason at all!”—smiling approvingly, he added—“It’s a wonder the pères don’t all go crazy.”
Tony nodded.
“Monsieur, may I help you with the boat? You need to go somewhere? If it is something Madame el needs, perhaps Madeline or I have it at our house?”
“No,” Tony said tentatively—his mind no longer on the boat but on the woman he left on the beach. “It isn’t anything she needs. I was thinking about going for a ride.”
“Oui, of course, you are right.” Francis’ jovial tone lightened the dim boathouse. “Since you’ve arrived, Madame el, she doesn’t need anything. You can see it—the two of you.” Francis walked to the control panel. “Monsieur, this lever here”—he pointed—“it is how we bring her down.” As he depressed the lever, the boat began to descend.
Tony placed his hand over Francis’, stopping the movement of the boat. “No,” Tony said. “I don’t think I need to go for a boat ride right now, but perhaps in the morning?”
“Oui, in the morning! In the morning, I’ll show you the channels and markers. They’re very difficult to see at night if you aren’t used to them.”
Tony patted Francis’ shoulder. “Thank you.” As Tony left the boathouse, they both knew Tony’s gratitude wasn’t for the lesson on the boatlift or the promise of tomorrow’s boat ride.
Following the path during the night wasn’t difficult. Through the years, Francis had done a superb job of controlling the vegetation and creating clear, well-traveled trails. With the addition of the silver rays of moonlight, which occasionally penetrated the lush canopy, Tony’s steps remained confident.
When the path opened to a clearing, Tony saw the warm glow of light coming from Madeline and Francis’ home. As he neared the light, the faint sound of music filled the otherwise quiet air, and the aroma of something delicious taunted his non-existent hunger. Thinking about how early they ate, Tony figured Madeline was making Francis dinner. Looking up the hill, Tony saw the big house. There wasn’t a light glowing from any of the many windows or doors. It looked empty. He wondered if Claire were there or still on the beach. Though he could’ve accessed the house from that side, Tony walked out to the beach to retrieve his sandals. Under the cover of the vegetation, he found them lying in the sand beside Claire’s and picked them up. Looking out toward the beach, he worried. If she were still out there, he needed to go find her. As he scanned the dark shore, he saw her figure coming toward him. Quietly, he slipped up the path.
You have power over your mind—not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.
Marcus Aurelius
Claire’s eyes were accustomed to the darkness. Turning towards the sound, towards the open doors to the lanai, she saw Tony’s silhouette. Again, their words came in unison, “I’m sorry.”
