Free The She by Carol Plum-Ucci Page A

as much about oceanography as any of the experts at the Coast Guard station, and yet there was the legend about his hands, which I now knew to be true. I had asked him, right before he did it to me, "What is this, Vietnamese mysticism or something?" and his answer had been, "I don't know."
    His mumbled sentences, evasive tone, and words that came clearly, like "dark forces over the deep," rang through my head. I figured Edwin Church could shake a person up more than he could help him, depending on the circumstances. Because, basically, there was no way to predict what he was going to say or think. He didn't seem to have a particular definition of what was actual about our universe, except "I don't know." I wasn't going back. Evidence feels shaky when it comes without proof.

FIVE
    Opa had sent a limo for us Thanksgiving morning, being he was always leery of losing more family to holiday traffic. The limo had not thrilled Aunt Mel and Emmett, who mumbled all the way over the Ben Franklin Bridge about "capitalist excesses." I liked riding with my feet up, watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade on the little TV, and felt it was some payback for having to spend a long weekend seasick, eating Japanese leftovers.
    Actually, Aunt Mel made me feel a little better when I said that, explaining that a catering service run by Japanese people didn't mean that we would be eating Japanese food on Thanksgiving. She said that families in East Hook frequently hired people of eastern descent to serve them on Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, and Christmas because they celebrated different holidays. Opa had said they could cook anything to perfection.
    "Knowing Dad, I'm sure they can," she said, rolling her eyes with merry affection for Opa. "Though service for four would suffice, I'm sure there will be enough to feed an army."
    "Maybe you can take a few heaping mounds to the shelter with you tomorrow," Emmett said cheerfully, to make her feel better: His cheeriness probably came from the fact that he had been into the wine cabinet already, and I could see how he planned to deal with East Hook—by applying numbness.
    They had planned it so we would get there just before the meal was served at two, because Aunt Mel didn't want to stand around for hours looking at the big-screen TV and hearing about Opa's latest ship models. She helped out in a soup kitchen the Friday after Thanksgiving every year, so she planned to go back that night. But Emmett and I had no excuse to desert Opa before Saturday at the earliest.
    We put our bags in the bedrooms when we got there, then came into the dining room, and I watched Emmett and Aunt Mel exchange glances again as they looked over this spread.
    Personally, I thought Opa was a sweetheart when it came to family celebrations. If I couldn't have the Hyatt as usual, there was nothing lacking in the buffet being prepared. Four Japanese men and a lady dressed in white jackets were coming in and out of the kitchen, making the place smell incredible. There was a turkey, a whole plate of lobster tails cooked in a yellow sauce, a ham, and a number of side dishes.
    As much as Emmett and Aunt Mel disapproved of "Opa's extravagances," rarely did a cross word pass between them. He was a sweet old guy who never told them how to live their lives, and Aunt Mel once said of it, "Love covers a myriad of plausibility structures." He hugged Emmett and me, kissed Aunt Mel, and there isn't too much bad you can say about a guy who is so happy to see you that he rolls out the red carpet.
    The meal wasn't quite ready, so I tried to find a seat in the family room that didn't have the big view of the water, The house was built up high on a huge bulkhead, and like most houses on the harbor in East Hook, the majority of the rooms were on the second and third floors, just in case there was a flood. This second floor view from one picture window in the family room went all the way up the harbor about fifteen hundred yards to the sea, and the