The Urn Carrier (4 page)

They usually helped him with outdoor things, gathering firewood,
setting traps. Their father belittled Eli because he was chunkier, and slower.
Tessa matched Eli, so they went the same pace. But her father knew.

All her young life, T defended Eli, but when they turned sixteen,
everything changed. Everything changed that one horrible day in the woods.

Chapter 5

JOSH WAITS LIKE a rock. Not a muscle moves. It
is six a.m. in Fishtown in mid-May and the charter boys have left. It’s unlike
Tessa to be late. Josh stays in a crouch, watching various morning delivery
folks come and go, and then he sees her familiar pink Adidas jogging down the
side street, a graceful black dog running beside her. She’s tied her long brown
hair back with a pink band and she has a pink backpack on.

He meets her at the sandwich shop next to Carlson’s. Standing a
foot taller than her, he hugs her and touches foreheads. Murphy wags his tail
and lets Josh pet him. Without a word, they turn and head toward the center of
the marina docks. They arrive at the fishing vessel and Murphy leaps in as if
he’s been doing it all his life. Josh cracks a smile. He holds out his hand for
Tessa to take and helps her into the boat. He waves to them to settle and
throws off the lines from their moorings. Once inside, he does a soft prime and
turns the key. The twin mercs rumble to life.

He gently backs out of the slip and throttles forward, wheeling
the craft around the other slips and into the channel behind the breakwater
wall. Once clear of the wall, he powers forward a bit more, the sun, just
edging into Leland, hits Lake Michigan full on. It’s flat this morning and Josh
raises his speed up a notch. He flips on his radar only once out of the harbor.
Josh and the other seasoned operators always spied rookie owners who kept their
radar going once in the marina. Depth finding carp or what? Yessirree, Bob, a
multimillion dollar yacht and a several thousand-dollar computer system
operated by a two-bit captain.

Josh hits eighteen miles an hour, with the smooth water the vessel
skims over the deeper, often treacherous undercurrents of this inland sea. Many
a ship has been lost in the Manitou Passage and many lives. Sailors from all
over the world scoff at this inland sea, only to be taken by it. Josh has total
reverence for any water he’s on.

Warm and inviting like now, or turn on you in an instant, the
weather particular to the Great Lakes can conjure a thundering unseen squall
and rush in, creating waves forty feet high. So much more treacherous than the
long rollers in the oceans, when cold weather meets warm air over the water,
the turbulence can be sudden and frightful. This water, in particular the Manitou
Passage, is confined by deep turrets of channels, and several sets of shallow
unseen shoals, a bathtub rocking and rolling unpredictably.

Terns skip alongside them, but Josh isn’t
casting nets today.

Murphy lies at Tessa’s feet and Josh smiles again. Texting her the
night before, Josh recommended she bring good drinking water, a towel, and a
change of clothes. Since they’re heading to the Crescent Side, they should be
free of prying eyes.

With a recent self-made National Park System
budget crisis, some park had overpaid a concessionaire somewhere, there’s no
official park personnel presence on either South or North Manitou, and there
won’t be any for another two weeks.

Tessa is totally safe.

Josh made sure of that.

Halfway around the north side, Josh nudges Tessa’s foot and
gestures to the high sandstone cliffs. There, etched by the west wind are two
perfectly conical shapes jutting out from the formation.

“It’s Madonna!” Tessa shouts gleefully,
clapping her hands.

Josh nods and points upwards. A pair of eagles are soaring on the
morning thermals. He rounds the Wisconsin side of the island, where the old
shay train grade can still be easily seen. He knows the slope well—they’re
closing in on the remnants of the old Crescent Dock.

After a few moments, he cuts the engines and picks along till he
finds the outermost post and slowly follows the diagonal line to shore. Later
in the season, the lake will lose some depth and the pilings will become
visible above the water, but for now, Josh carefully edges his way along.
Without a word, Tessa begins disrobing to her suit. She slings on a pair of
quick-drying shorts and shimmies to the front of the boat, waiting for Josh’s
signal.

Josh cuts the engines entirely and lets the momentum and the water
propel the vessel forward. He looks out the side, not trusting the depth finder
and when he judges that Tessa won’t get totally dunked, he nods. He watches her
leap fearlessly off the front.

She grabs the bow lines, then guides the craft gently ashore.
Murphy leaps off and follows her.

Josh tosses the stern line, and Tessa wraps it just the way he
showed her years ago. He throws anchors fore and aft. He believes in being
safe. He won’t leave the vessel for long. But he believes in thoroughness in
all things.

They walk up the dune and spy the one structure still left on this
side of the island. A huge old barn.

“That’s where AJ White lost his arm in 1912.” Josh points to a
meadow with a slight depression in it. “Used to be a saw mill. That depression?
A pond. The shay train came down the grade over there.” He points to the ridge
they’d just climbed over. “I’m going back down. No one’s around. That
depression is the one your Aunt Sadie meant.”

“You’re not staying and doing ceremony with me?”

“This is for you to do. We’ve done ceremony before.” He gives her
an eagle feather he’d found on one of his earlier trips to the island. He takes
an herb from his pocket, wrapped with ribbon. “This is rosemary from the
mainland.”

“I brought sage too.”

He smiles and walks away.

She’ll be fine. He knows she doesn’t remember the ceremony from
when her guts popped out. She would remember that when the time was right.

A STRANGE BACKPACK is propped up against the camper. Tessa is
still sitting in the truck staring at it, counting to four when she hears, “Yo!
Cuz!” and Joe lopes gracefully over from another campsite.

He leans in on the driver’s side with his most charismatic smile.

“I got a leave from nursing school. I can go with you the whole
way. Won’t that be awesome?”

“Uhm, gee, Joe, I was kind of looking forward to the alone time.
You probably should have talked with me first.” Tessa opens the door and Joe
looks hurt.

“I thought you’d be thrilled. We can share the driving time . . .”

Murphy stays on Tessa’s left side away from Joe. A young woman with
dreadlocks and big round glasses walks up between the cedars separating the two
campsites, smiling, all her beautiful white teeth showing.

“This is Marissa.” Joe slings an arm over the girl holding out her
hand toward Tessa. Tessa shakes it.

“Cool ride.” Marissa looks at the rig. “Mind if I look inside?”

Why yes, I do.

Murphy lies down with a
harummph
by
Tessa’s camp chair.

“Beautiful dog.”

“He doesn’t like being petted,” Joe says.

“Ahhhh.” Marissa nods.

Tessa opens up the rig. “Have a look.”

Both Joe and Marissa pop in and the camper sags under Joe’s sheer
presence.

Yeah, I feel that way too, camper.

“Wow, it’s tinier once you’re inside, isn’t it?” Joe turns from
the doorway.

“That’s real gold on that vase, isn’t it?” Marissa says of the
urn.

“Yeah, that’s real gold,” Tessa says, remaining outside, unpacking
the groceries from Leland.

She really doesn’t want Joe anywhere around when she visits Eli.

“Marissa’s gotta take off tomorrow. She just gave me a ride up
here.”

She can give you a ride back.

The voice inside Tessa’s head is being very forceful. It’s all
Tessa can do to not let it just pop out of her mouth. She needs more
information though. She needs to know why Joe is really here and why he is
being so insistent.

“Well, you two have things to talk about.” Marissa, seems to pick
up on Tessa’s vibe. “I’m gonna get some dinner going. Maybe you’d like to join
us?” she asks as they leave the camper.

“Maybe,” Tessa says. She has the distinct feeling Marissa has
cased the place. The carefully placed vacuous look, like,
I really didn’t
see anything
.

“Where have you been? I got up here at ten this morning, figured
I’d catch ya before you took off for the day.”

“I had things to do.”

“Ahh, the ashes, right? Smart not to take the whole urn with ya.
How does that work anyway? You gotta take a picture of where you’re at and then
send them to old man Forsythe, just so he knows you did it right or something?”

“Pretty much.” How the hell does Joe know so
much about the procedure? “Look, Joe, this is not going to work. I like ya and
everything, but it’s a bad move. I want my privacy.” Tessa stows the dry goods
in a storage container on the outside of the camper, she begins taking the
fresh foods inside.

“C’mon, cuz. My dad didn’t give me much choice. He says you need a
bodyguard. I’ll stay out of the way. You do your thing, I’ll do mine. I can
sleep in the back of the truck.”

“Your dad? Tell him I have the shotgun.”

Joe’s mouth opens and closes. Tessa can’t tell if he looks more
like a fish or a marionette.

“Wow. He wanted that shotgun real bad.” Joe kicks some soft dirt
around his toes, looking down at the ground.

“Yeah, he can talk to Forsythe about it.” Tessa shakes her head.
“In fact, it’s his after the trip. I don’t give a shit.” She returns outside.
“You can’t come. That’s it. Go back to school.” She tries to maintain her calm
as she carefully folds the brown paper grocery bags.

“Hey, I get this is a touchy situation, given . . . everything.”

“Everything what? Just say it.” Her patience gone, Tessa turns and
faces Joe squarely. He shifts away and looks at the nearby cedar.

“C’mon, why are you being so difficult? You’re acting just like a
. . .”

“Just like a what? I’m not one of your bitches.”

“Wow. This strikes a nerve doesn’t it?” He looks her over.

“What the fuck? Why does everyone think I’m so helpless? If y’all
thought that, then maybe somebody else should be doing this, but no, you’re all
too busy. Then you just show . . . How would you like it, roles reversed?”

“Uh, not very well. You’d be cramping my style.”

“Exactly.”

“Look.” Joe drops to the ground, cross-legged style, holding a
joint. “I don’t have a choice. If I don’t go with you, Dad’s cutting off the
money for nursing school.”

“Damn, maybe you should work your way through school like everyone
else.”

“Look, let’s just do a hit or two, calm down, and talk about it a
little later.”

“I’m not changing my mind.” Tessa folds her arms.

“Okay, okay, I get it.”

“And don’t light that shit up here. It’s a federal park, they fine
you five hundred dollars.”

“No shit?”

“No shit. Go out on the public road. Or anywhere else. Not here.”

“Hey.” Joe gets up as he dusts his shorts off. He sticks the joint
in the breast pocket of his flannel shirt. “Thanks for the heads up.”

Tessa is so mad, she’s not hungry. She decides to pour part of
Aunt Sadie into a spice jar. She stows her up with the dried foods above the
stove. She stashes the vase and the remaining ashes out of sight. She locks up
the camper, then jumps in the truck with Murphy.

She just starts driving. She doesn’t know where she is going, but
she doesn’t want to be anywhere near Joe, or Marissa, or their tent. She
contemplates calling Forsythe, but what could he really do? Call Uncle Chuck
and have him pull off Cousin Joe? Maybe he could hold something over their heads.
Why did Uncle Chuck really want Joe to come along anyway? The fact they know
her route creeps her out. She might call Forsythe and change it up a little.

A little south of Empire she finds a road leading to the beach.
There are cars there, but to the left is another dirt road. She drives down it
till it ends. It’s a Benzie county seasonal road and she gets out with Murphy
and starts down a trail that leads west to the water. It takes a long time to
wind around the flats and some rises. Josh told her that a long time ago the
shores were even further apart. That maybe the ridge on North Manitou had been
underwater. That was when the ancients hunted Mastodon, before there was even
water, the hills were high and the water came in and flattened everything down.
Some of the ridges she is passing by could be ancient burial mounds, and older
shorelines.

She hears a flutie bird in the woods and spies enough poison ivy
to know that she’d have to rinse Murphy down pretty well before hugging on him
too much. At the water Murphy jumps in and paddles around. Tessa throws sticks
for him and he doesn’t tire. Loons, further out, sing their distinctive yodel
song. It’s nearing sunset. She takes a picture of the setting sun grazing the
water and sends it to Dina.
It’s not the same without you.
She looks at
the words and deletes the message.
Great way to begin the trip.
She hits
send.