Locked Doors

41

WE sat on a bench seat along the gunwale. I put my arm around Violet and cuddled with her as Charlie Tatum piloted the Island Hopper away from the dock into the middle of Silver Lake. The deck reeked of mildew and the discarded sunspoiled viscera of fish.

“That wind’s already turned on us,” he warned. “It’s gonna get rough as hell once we clear the harbor.”

Silver Lake was empty. I saw the motels and B amp;Bs along the shore, tendrils of smoke climbing out of several chimneys.

The rain intensified.

I wondered for a moment if I were mad for doing this, then thought of it no more.

We chugged through the Ditch and I stared beyond the narrow outlet into the sound, its waters roiling in the fierce north wind. Emerging from the harbor, Charlie leaned into the throttle. As the ferry lurched forward in a sprint for open water, he pointed to Teach’s Hole, a cove in the murky distance that the pirate, Edward Teach, (a.k.a. Blackbeard) had used for a hideout prior to his beheading in