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Chapter 17
“I hate you, because looking at you I see what I could have been,” Elena said.
It was not the first time she seemed to read his thoughts, or he, hers, but this time
it really startled Mason.
“Elena, but I’ve got a lot of trouble living with myself,” he said earnestly.
“Sounds familiar,” she mimicked him.
“I’m sure it does; but I’m trying to create not to destroy.”
She frowned.
“Your money – makes everything possible – but for one little thing. You cannot
bring back the dead. You can’t bring your Mary back.”
“And you’re happy for this?”
She did not reply.
“I can’t,” Mason agreed. “But I’ve got Matthew, the baby we created together with
Mary. Do you want a baby, Elena?”
“The baby you deceive yourself is your own while it’s Mary’s rapist’s flesh and
blood?”
“…You won’t make me angry now, Elena,” Mason said. “A baby – Elena, think of it,
you can have your own baby, or babies. You can forgive our parents for what they’
ve done to you, and live on. Just think of it. A new page in life, a new chance. A
little girl or boy of your own, that looks like you and you’ll never ever let anyone
hurt her – or him--”
“Stop it.” She sprang up. “Oh stop it: you said you did NOT hate me.”
Mason fell silent.
“I sent my Indian to plant explosives onto Kelly’s car,” Elena said in a while.
“Oh. Did you really?”
“Yes, I did. I swear I did.”
“Is there a phone here, or something I can use to warn her?” said Mason getting to
his feet.
“No, Mason. No, no, no.”
“Let me try to find something, though,” he said and left the cabin.
The ocean air was so fresh, as compared to the candle mist of the cabin. The yacht
was far out in the ocean, and little could be seen around. Mason searched the
machinery, swearing himself under his breath: who could think he might need to
know how to manage a yacht?
What he saw next to the engine looked very much like a time bomb he’d seen in
movies.
*
Mason was standing staring down at the brick when he heard Elena’s soft steps
behind.
“Explosive?” he asked without turning to face her.
“Yeah. Here as well as there.”
“So, you’re planning suicide with me for company.”
“It’s a pity I won’t be there to see who Daddy mourns more, Kelly the kitten or you
the prodigal son.”
“And you want Mother to lose all her three children at once.”
“She won’t notice.”
Mason shuddered. “Elena,” he said, and this time he turned to see her eyes. “What
are you doing?”
She shrugged her shoulders: an elegant, sophisticated lady, so beautiful in the
moonlight. “I – don’t know. I’ve been so lonely my whole life; I don’t want to be
lonely on my last journey.”
Mason just did not know what to say to this.
*
“I don’t want to tell Julia; is it understood?” Pearl said. “She’d be terrified.”
“But Pearl--” Jeffrey argued.
The Indian was arrested and locked up; the car, demined. It was past midnight, the
‘Juno’ was far from the shore, and there was no Mason to be found anywhere in
Santa Barbara, even in bars.
“But Pearl,” Jeffrey said. “Don’t you think Julia’s worried? Don’t you think she has
the right to know? Don’t you--”
“JUST BECAUSE she would be worried and terrified if she learnt, and she is
pregnant, and I should have known before, and I don’t have the slightest idea what I
can tell her now!” Pearl shouted. “Let her think he’s gotten drunk again. Let’s play
for time.”
“Take a boat and follow the ‘Juno’?” Jeffrey suggested.
“Right – at night and she could be anywhere by this hour.”
But the idea was not so absurd, Pearl thought; he’d only need a good pilot.
*
It was dark and lonely. Matt was asleep. Julia was looking at the fire she’d made.
There was no Mason.
She would not be running from one bar to another looking for him. No. She was too
angry, and her hands were trembling as she threw a shawl around her shoulders.
The night was scary. Something was telling Julia she should be very grateful and
happy if all this was about was a drunk Mason.
“I hate you, because looking at you I see what I could have been,” Elena said.
It was not the first time she seemed to read his thoughts, or he, hers, but this time
it really startled Mason.
“Elena, but I’ve got a lot of trouble living with myself,” he said earnestly.
“Sounds familiar,” she mimicked him.
“I’m sure it does; but I’m trying to create not to destroy.”
She frowned.
“Your money – makes everything possible – but for one little thing. You cannot
bring back the dead. You can’t bring your Mary back.”
“And you’re happy for this?”
She did not reply.
“I can’t,” Mason agreed. “But I’ve got Matthew, the baby we created together with
Mary. Do you want a baby, Elena?”
“The baby you deceive yourself is your own while it’s Mary’s rapist’s flesh and
blood?”
“…You won’t make me angry now, Elena,” Mason said. “A baby – Elena, think of it,
you can have your own baby, or babies. You can forgive our parents for what they’
ve done to you, and live on. Just think of it. A new page in life, a new chance. A
little girl or boy of your own, that looks like you and you’ll never ever let anyone
hurt her – or him--”
“Stop it.” She sprang up. “Oh stop it: you said you did NOT hate me.”
Mason fell silent.
“I sent my Indian to plant explosives onto Kelly’s car,” Elena said in a while.
“Oh. Did you really?”
“Yes, I did. I swear I did.”
“Is there a phone here, or something I can use to warn her?” said Mason getting to
his feet.
“No, Mason. No, no, no.”
“Let me try to find something, though,” he said and left the cabin.
The ocean air was so fresh, as compared to the candle mist of the cabin. The yacht
was far out in the ocean, and little could be seen around. Mason searched the
machinery, swearing himself under his breath: who could think he might need to
know how to manage a yacht?
What he saw next to the engine looked very much like a time bomb he’d seen in
movies.
*
Mason was standing staring down at the brick when he heard Elena’s soft steps
behind.
“Explosive?” he asked without turning to face her.
“Yeah. Here as well as there.”
“So, you’re planning suicide with me for company.”
“It’s a pity I won’t be there to see who Daddy mourns more, Kelly the kitten or you
the prodigal son.”
“And you want Mother to lose all her three children at once.”
“She won’t notice.”
Mason shuddered. “Elena,” he said, and this time he turned to see her eyes. “What
are you doing?”
She shrugged her shoulders: an elegant, sophisticated lady, so beautiful in the
moonlight. “I – don’t know. I’ve been so lonely my whole life; I don’t want to be
lonely on my last journey.”
Mason just did not know what to say to this.
*
“I don’t want to tell Julia; is it understood?” Pearl said. “She’d be terrified.”
“But Pearl--” Jeffrey argued.
The Indian was arrested and locked up; the car, demined. It was past midnight, the
‘Juno’ was far from the shore, and there was no Mason to be found anywhere in
Santa Barbara, even in bars.
“But Pearl,” Jeffrey said. “Don’t you think Julia’s worried? Don’t you think she has
the right to know? Don’t you--”
“JUST BECAUSE she would be worried and terrified if she learnt, and she is
pregnant, and I should have known before, and I don’t have the slightest idea what I
can tell her now!” Pearl shouted. “Let her think he’s gotten drunk again. Let’s play
for time.”
“Take a boat and follow the ‘Juno’?” Jeffrey suggested.
“Right – at night and she could be anywhere by this hour.”
But the idea was not so absurd, Pearl thought; he’d only need a good pilot.
*
It was dark and lonely. Matt was asleep. Julia was looking at the fire she’d made.
There was no Mason.
She would not be running from one bar to another looking for him. No. She was too
angry, and her hands were trembling as she threw a shawl around her shoulders.
The night was scary. Something was telling Julia she should be very grateful and
happy if all this was about was a drunk Mason.
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