Charlie St. Cloud Page 0,48

they had always imagined themselves. Soon, when they were ready to go on to the next level, they would fade away, deliquescing like mist in the sun.

But Tess was different. He had gazed into her emerald eyes. He had stood right next to her. He had listened to her incredible laugh. He had even felt himself falling a little in love. No, she couldn’t have been a spirit. There was nothing diaphanous about her. She was too real, too substantial, too alive. There had to be some mistake.

A wave crashed over the deck, slapping him hard across the face and stinging his eyes. He fought to keep them open, struggling not to blink, for fear of missing her in the water. All day he had prayed to God that He would not take away a person so fine and rare. For each disturbing fact, Charlie had supplied an optimistic answer. Her boat wasn’t in its mooring where it belonged, but the ocean was vast and she could be sailing anywhere. That debris recovered by the fisherman wasn’t necessarily proof of a shipwreck. Maybe it had just fallen off Querencia.

Still, there was the matter of the burned-out life raft. Charlie checked the digital gauges on the dashboard. The thermometer indicated the ocean was fifty-two degrees. From paramedic training he knew that cold water stole body heat thirty times faster than air. Without protective gear, unconsciousness would occur after thirty to sixty minutes and death in one to three hours. But even if her boat had burned and gone to the bottom, Tess had a survival suit onboard that was good for at least seventy-two hours in these temperatures. That was still plenty of time to find her.

In the western sky, Charlie saw splashes of rust and plum. The clouds were bunching in great gouts. The angle of the sun was low on the water, and he suddenly realized for the first time in thirteen years he hadn’t thought about Sam all day. Not even once. Now his heart began to pound. He could feel the panic. There was only an hour of light left to find her—and an hour of light to get home. It was an impossible situation.

Tess was missing. Sam was waiting.

Just then, Tink turned the wheel sharply. “Tank’s almost empty,” he said. “We’re losing the sun. I hate to go back to port, but we don’t have much choice.”

Charlie nodded but felt no relief. It would be incredibly close. “Want me to drive?” he asked, thinking he could increase their speed and improve his chances.

“I’m fine,” Tink said.

So Charlie went to the stern and sat down. He put his head in his hands and closed his eyes. He saw Tess sashaying down the gravel walk in the cemetery. He imagined her pirouetting in the night. And then he replayed every moment in his mind, trying to make sense of it all.

Maybe her beauty had overwhelmed him. Maybe the sparks had distracted him from the signs. Or maybe God had some other reason. How could he have been so wrong?

Charlie stood and moved forward to the cockpit beside Tink. He glanced at the speedometer. Fifteen knots. Tink’s face was flushed, and he was grazing through a giant bag of Oreos. There were black crumbs on his chin.

Charlie looked out and watched a shag dive for mackerel behind the boat. The low light of dusk was slanting off the water, and he knew the sun would be gone at 6:33 P.M.

“Can we speed up a bit?” he asked gently.

“What’s your frigging problem, Mario Andretti? Why the big hurry?”

“I just need to get back.”

He turned the wheel five degrees to starboard. “You got something more important to do? A hot date? League night at the Bowl-O-Mat?”

Charlie didn’t even bother to answer. He stood silently, listening to the thud of the waves against the boat. After a while, Tink reached out with the Oreo bag. A peace offering.

“No, thanks.”

“Look, I’m sorry. My nerves are fried.” He rubbed his big hands on the wheel. Charlie thought he saw tears in the man’s eyes. Then Tink said, “So how do you know Tess again?”

“We just met.”

But Tink wasn’t really listening. He seemed lost in his own fears. “I never should’ve let her go out into that storm,” he said.

That was strange. Tess hadn’t mentioned bad weather. “Whatever happens,” Charlie said, “she’s going to be okay.”

Tink looked over with sad eyes. “You think?”

“You just have to believe.”

And that was exactly what Charlie was forcing himself