Lazaretto by Diane McKinney-Whetstone

Author:Diane McKinney-Whetstone
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2017-02-17T05:00:00+00:00

20

THE CRATE CONTAINING Bram lay patiently on the pier, having attracted the wedding guests’ belongings after someone deposited his burlap sack beside the crate, then another his cardboard box, another her fancy flip-top overnight bag. In short order the crate was obscured as belongings were tossed even across its top.

Vergie sat down on the corner of the crate. She was wet and shivering as she clung to a blanket someone had thrown over her shoulders. Vergie had gone into the water after Carl. She was a strong swimmer, that skill honed on the frequent fishing trips she’d taken with her father from the time before she could even walk, when she’d spend as much time in the water as she did in the boat. She’d gone under twice before she spotted the trail of blood that led her to Carl. She dragged him to the surface and by then Splotch and two other men had also jumped in, and, with the help of the river’s perfect push, they’d gotten him back in the boat. She didn’t consider right now that she’d saved Carl’s life as she stared straight ahead into the gray and silver river and assaulted herself with her thinking. She berated herself for inciting Carl’s shooting in the first place. Her inability to rein herself in when she felt disrespected had caused it. Hadn’t her aunt Maze told her time and again that every situation was not cause for a fight; that she must learn to distinguish between trifling slights and major injustices; that she must let the small things roll off her back, and save her temper for challenging the more egregious treatment; that catastrophe might result over some insignificant matter because of her tendency to overreact. And it had happened today; the flick of her finger at the white men in the other boat may have cost Carl his life. “Dear Carl,” she said out loud, as her chest went stormy and she started heaving. “I may have killed you, ah, I may have . . .” She started shaking uncontrollably and thought she was going into convulsions when she sensed someone approach and at first she thought it was Splotch and she tightened inside. But then she felt the warmest hands moving up and down her arms, the sweetest voice in her ear saying, “Come on, Verge, you need to get out of these wet clothes, come on now before you catch the grippe.”

“Nevada, Nevada,” Vergie cried. “Carl was shot because I flicked my hand at some white men.”

“Don’t do that, Vergie,” Nevada said as she pulled her up and got her into a complete hug. “That is a devil’s trick to make those that have been wronged feel that they are in the wrong. Nothing you could have said, no gesture you could have made, justifies someone firing a gun at your boat. I will not abide such talk from you. Now come on, get dried up. I have a bowl of turkey broth with your name on it.

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