“Don’t bother waving, they can’t see you,” said Nicole. “They must be glad to be rid of us, we’re toxic cargo.”
“They were nice,” I said.
“You think they’re not making big piles of money?”
The Nellie J. Banks was moving away from us. I hoped they’d have good luck.
I could feel the tide gripping the inflatable. Head in at an angle, Captain Mishimengo had said: cutting straight across the tide was dangerous, the inflatable could flip.
“Hold my flashlight,” Nicole said. She was fiddling with the buttons on the motor, using her right hand. The motor started. “This tide’s like a river.” We were indeed moving quickly. There were some lights on the shore to our left, very far away. It was cold, the kind of cold that goes right through all your clothing.
“Are we getting there?” I said after a while. “To the shore?”
“I hope so,” said Nicole. “Because if not, we’ll soon be back in Gilead.”
“We could jump overboard,” I said. We could not go back to Gilead, no matter what: they must have discovered by now that Nicole was missing, and had not gone with an Economan. We couldn’t betray Becka and all she had done for us. It would be better to die.
“Fucking hell,” said Nicole. “The motor just kakked.”
“Oh no,” I said. “Can you…”
“I’m trying. Shit and fuck!”
“What? What is it?” I had to raise my voice: the fog was all around us, and the sound of the water.
“Electrical short, I think,” said Nicole. “Or low battery.”
“Did they do that on purpose?” I said. “Maybe they want us to die.”
“No way!” said Nicole. “Why would they kill the customers? Now we have to row.”
“Row?” I said.
“Yeah, with the oars,” said Nicole. “I can only use my good arm, the other one’s like a puffball, and don’t fucking ask me what a puffball is!”
“It’s not my fault I don’t know such things,” I said.
“You want to have this conversation right now? I am fucking sorry, but we are in a hot mess emergency here! Now, grab the oar!”
“All right,” I said. “There. I have hold of it.”
“Put it in the oarlock. The oarlock! This thing! Now, use both hands. Okay, now watch me! When I say go, put the oar in the water and pull,” said Nicole. She was shouting.
“I don’t know how. I feel so useless.”
“Stop crying,” said Nicole. “I don’t care how you feel! Just do it! Now! When I say go, pull the oar towards you! See the light? It’s nearer!”
“I don’t think it is,” I said. “We’re so far out. We’ll be swept away.”
“No we won’t,” said Nicole. “Not if you try. Now, go! And, go! That’s it! Go! Go! Go!”
XXV
Wakeup
The Ardua Hall Holograph
68
Aunt Vidala has opened her eyes. She has not yet said anything. Does she have a mind in there? Does she remember seeing the girl Jade wearing a silver Pearl Girls dress? Does she remember the blow that must have knocked her out? Will she say so? If yes to the first, then yes to the second. She’ll put two and two together—who but I could have facilitated this scenario? Any denunciation she makes of me to a nurse will go straight to the Eyes; and then the clock will stop. I must take precautions. But what and how?
Rumour at Ardua Hall has it that her stroke was not spontaneous but was the result of some shock, or even of some attack. From the heel marks in the soil, it would appear that she was dragged around to the back of my statue. She has been removed from the Intensive Care Unit to a recovery ward, and Aunt Elizabeth and Aunt Helena are taking turns sitting beside her bed, waiting for her first words, each suspicious of the other; so it is not possible for me to be with her alone.
The elopement note has been the subject of much speculation. The plumber was an excellent touch: such a convincing detail. I am proud of Nicole’s ingenuity, and trust it will stand her in good stead in the immediate future. The ability to concoct plausible lies is a talent not to be underestimated.
Naturally my opinion was sought as to the proper procedure. Should there not be a search? The girl’s present location did not matter much, I said, so long as marriage and progeny were the goals; but Aunt Elizabeth said that the man may have been a lecherous imposter, or even a Mayday agent