Sleep didn't come easy to Ellie. She was in a shallow slumber when Tex came in, but spent most of the time staring at the ceiling and watching the numbers tick by on the alarm clock. Her eyes felt like the bright searchlights that swept across the wreck. Back and forth, back and forth, lighting up the rescuers and the sheet metal and the dead bodies floating in the pond.
Then she realized she was dreaming because she was at home in Crabapple Cove and it was winter time. The harsh light of the winter morning came in through the stained glass window, throwing colors on the dining room table, where she was sitting. Ben was in another room, chattering to his toys and stomping across the floor. She had this day memorized and returned to it occasionally in dreams, trying to extract its importance.
Ellie got up and wandered into the parlor. Her father was in front of the fireplace. The Sunday paper covered his face. She loved him, not in a complicated way. Ben swooped in and out with a toy plane. He couldn't be more than six and had all the look of a cherub, with his blonde curls and chubby pink cheeks. Everything was hazy and Ellie was aware of how it felt like she was floating from room to room.
The front door opened and in came her mother. A familiar perfume scent followed, something Ellie hadn't smelled in years. White Shoulders? Anyways, Margaret was dressed up and obviously just back from church. Ben ran towards her and jumped into his mother's arms.
"Mommy! What did you bring me?" he demanded.
Margaret produced a donut from her purse, carefully wrapped in a napkin. It was a bribe to convince Ben to come with her to church, the source of the donuts. It never worked. Ben preferred them to be delivered on Sunday mornings.
"How was church?" Hawkeye asked from behind the paper.
"Fine, not that you'd care," Margaret snapped, ignoring Ellie and moving toward the kitchen. Ben took the donut and broke it in half.
"Ellie, want half? Want half?" he asked, practically pressing the treat into her face. Ellie waved him off and wandered to the kitchen, which had grown to gargantuan proportions, like it was a photo that had been taken with a fish-eye lens. The black and white tile looked like a demonic chessboard. The scent of pine cleaner was overwhelming. She peeked around the door sill, just in to to see her mother pouring something from a bottle into a Dixie Cup. She drank and grimaced. Margaret turned around, glimpsing Ellie hovering in the doorway.
"What do you want? Why are you always sneaking around the house? Get out of my sight."
Ellie stood watching as Margaret practically threw the bottle under the sink. It crashed into a Flit can.
"Get out of here. Go to your room. I don't think you're half as smart as they say you are."
Ellie didn't move. Instead, she said a piece of a poem that popped into her head.
There will come soft rains and the smell of ground...
"Get out of here!" Margaret hissed, making as if she were going to throw the half-full cup at her daughter.
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound...
The color was draining from the kitchen. It ran in every direction, like a oil painting submerged in water. Margaret's face began to age slowly as the room began to shrink.
"I never meant to hurt you. I've spent the latter part of my life making that up to you. Can't you forgive me just this once? Before I die, can you ever forgive me?"
Ellie started to say something, but the scene shifted like a television changing channels.
She was on the boat, out in the clear blue waters of the Bahamas. People she missed terribly were there. Ellie's heart felt full at the sight of their happy faces. Chad! Gary! Cheryn! Where have you been? You left me behind...please don't leave me behind again.
"Come in! We're going to follow this old Bimini Road and see where it takes us," they shouted from the water.
Ellie had no scuba gear, no snorkel, no fins. She jumped in to join her friends, smiling as the rays of sun beat through the water and the golden road stretched on forever.