The Life Of Reilly. Sue Civil-Brown
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itself and not for the profit from it. Kids here learn from very early that you can enjoy the game within the limits of your resources, that you don’t need a bigger risk in order to experience the pleasure. It’s not a forbidden, secret passion. It’s just something fun to do, and a good way to learn about the ups and downs of life.”
“And here it’s a civic duty. I know. And frankly I don’t care. If that’s how people here want to govern, by the outcome of card games, that’s their business.”
“Then why did you say what you did?”
She thought back to her words. “I guess that came out wrong.”
He merely smiled.
“I guess what I’m trying to get at is that these kids know a lot about cards, a lot about fishing, a lot about every little nook and cranny on the island. But they don’t know a lot about how the ecology works or how different it is in other places. Or how much impact man has.”
“Those would be good lessons.”
She stopped walking and leaned forward, grasping her toes and lifting gently.
“Cramping?”
When she looked up, his gaze was a blend of concern and something else…open admiration for the way her pose highlighted her…assets. She quickly stood up.
“A little. It’ll wear off.”
She forced away the thoughts of how she must have looked a moment earlier, and instead scooped up a handful of wet sand and let it slowly slip over her tilted hand. “Don’t you see it, Jack? At first it barely moves. Then, as the water seeps down to contact my skin, it forms a lubricating layer. Friction decreases. The sand slides faster, and…” It fell to the earth with a plop.
She looked at him. “Every molecule is a miracle. Every atom, every quark. Even the most ordinary activity is part of the flow of mass and consciousness through space-time, ripples of potential talking to one another in a language so subtle and beautiful that even now we’re only beginning to understand parts of it. I want my students to see that beauty, to see that magic.”
He smiled broadly now, nodding. “That would be great. So what project were you thinking of?”
“I want to start first by showing them the interconnectedness of the ecosystem. How everything depends on everything else, and nothing is too small or insignificant to consider. Then I want to move on to a contained ecology, like an unpopulated island.”
“Well, I know of the perfect island, although I’m not a hundred-percent certain it’s never been contaminated.”
She waved a hand. “Contamination is inevitable. So long as the wind blows and the waves wash ashore, things will travel—from seeds, to microbes.”
He nodded. “You’re doing good, teach. Maybe you can even tell us what impact Buster has had on this island.”
She looked at him. “Buster is part of this island now. And I suspect he’s done less damage than the casino.”
“Shh. He’s a very self-important alligator.”
She laughed then, feeling better than she had since Delphine had first appeared in her living room.
Delphine. Oh, lord, there was trouble coming. Lynn could feel it in her bones.
CHAPTER FIVE
LYNN BEGAN TO FEEL she was making genuine inroads into her new life and new job. She had learned each student’s name and was settling into something of a comfortable and even normal routine, if such could be said to exist on Treasure Island.
Then, of course, Delphine returned. The timing was just too perfect. In another world, she might have thought it an accident. But the way things were going lately….
Coming down the short hallway in the white panties and men’s T-shirt she slept in, she entered the kitchen with no thought except coffee. She hadn’t even waited to put her contacts in, and she’d lost her glasses in the move, a mistake because without them she needed to make the coffee by touch, since the world was utterly out-of-focus.
Not that she had a chance to practice, because just as she stepped toward the sink with the coffee carafe in her hand, the under-sink cupboard doors blew open and water spewed forth with all the ferocity of a fire hose.
Lynn shrieked. “Delphine!”
But Delphine apparently had decided to remain invisible this morning, even though it was totally obvious to Lynn that nothing short of diabolical intervention could have sprung that leak exactly at that instant.
Slipping on the suddenly flooded floor in her bare feet, trying not to drop the glass carafe, she continued her way to the sink and counter. But despite her best efforts she fell.
“Delphine!” she cried again as she hit the floor on one side, cradling the carafe to her breast as if it were a baby. “I’m going to kill you, do you hear me? You’ll be deader than dead!”
Rising to her knees, she began crawling toward the counter, getting sprayed now directly in her face. She wondered if it was possible to hit a deceased aunt with a pipe wrench. If she could even find one.
JACK MARKS HEARD the shriek as he was watering the herb garden he tended on the side of his house. He wasn’t especially domestic, but he loved to cook, and he loved truly flavorful food, which here on Treasure Island meant growing your own herbs or impoverishing yourself to have them flown in.
Fresh was better anyway, he thought, humming as he watered. From time to time he turned the hose to hit Buster, who had for the time being taken up permanent residence in the wallow in front of Jack’s house. The neighbors were even beginning to remark on it. Jack, of course, knew the secret: water. He was the only one who cooled Buster off.
“Delphine!”
Who was Delphine? And why did Lynn sound so distressed? Jack felt the urge to go help, the white knight in him coming to the fore, then reminded himself to mind his own business. He sprayed Buster again, then bent over to shut off the water.
Another shriek and a thud. Jack straightened and looked toward Lynn’s house. The screen door to her kitchen might as well have been made of wood for all he could see.
“I’ll kill you, do you hear!” she shouted. “You’ll be deader than dead!”
O-o-o-kay, he thought. A life hung in the balance. Time not to mind his own business. He dropped the hose onto the ground, wiped his wet hands on his shorts and strode toward Lynn’s door.
As he came closer, he heard a rushing sound and Lynn’s voice erupting in language blue enough to dye the entire Caribbean. He winced, then felt an unwilling grin tug at his mouth. He didn’t know many people who could swear like that.
He reached the door and cupped his hands around his eyes so he could see past the screen into the dim kitchen. “Lynn?”
“Go away!”
Was she talking to him? Or to the Delphine she’d been shouting at earlier? Either way, she sounded stressed to the point of breaking, so he opened the door and stepped into the kitchen.
The flood wasn’t the first thing that caught his attention. Oh, no. He might be a preacher, but in that instant he was all man. With water spraying everywhere, Lynn was scrambling to get under her sink, tossing bottles and cans in every direction. She was also an extremely tempting sight in a white T-shirt that was nearly transparent from the water, clinging to her every curve like a caress. And that cute little rump, cased in white bikini panties, up in the air….
“Ooof!” Shock and pain hit him at exactly the same moment as a can of white enamel spray paint, flung across the room, hit him in the family jewels. For an instant, fiery pinwheels blinded his vision. He doubled over and lost his balance, falling face-first into the flood.
Shock retrieved him from pain long enough to turn him once again into