Free Out of the Mist by EvergreenWritersGroup Page A

you someday," Alice said. She—Alice—should have been enough
for him. His eyes should have been on her, not on some dratted
animal.She sighed, her heavy breath making a perfect circle on the
glass.
    Eventually, Alice
gave up waiting, donned her husband’s hat and coat, and ventured to
the balcony where she sat on a weathered chair. She pulled a cigar
from the pocket of Freeman’s trench coat and took her first drag of
the day.
    She’d been dying for
that moment. While Alice took another puff, and another, and
another, she watched for Mason.
     
    ***
     
    Mason struggled with
the reins. Chamois was acting ornery. Mason tried to pull her in,
but the animal was determined to have its own way. "Whoa, girl.
Calm down. Steady, steady.” Mason’s words were in vain, and Chamois
veered away from the well-trampled path and toward the cliff’s
edge, east of Ocean’s End Hotel.
    Chamois galloped
closer and closer to the cliff. The waves below whipped against the
boulders, the sound not unlike hundreds of frenzied fathers
attacking screaming children with endless belt lashes. Mason bit
his lower lip, tasting blood mixed with the salty mist. Menacing
clouds scudded above him as if racing away from danger. Several
colossal crows circled and chanted their incessant, piercing caw
caw caw!
    When he passed the
hotel, Mason glimpsed a figure on the balcony. Thick smoke curled
above the individual, who exhaled perfect curlicues that soon
disappeared.
    “ Whoa, girl,” he
shouted again. “Stop!”
    The person, who was
too small to be Mason’s father, stood and looked his way. There was
a familiarity about the way the stranger rose from the chair, but
Mason couldn't recognize him, not with a hat covering his head and
a coat’s collar reaching his chin. Why was the small man bundled as
if for a blizzard when the early evening, though damp, was mild?
Mason yanked on the reins again. The edge, where the cliff dropped
500 feet to a jumble of rocks and boulders, neared. Surely Chamois
would not gallop any closer?
    The mare’s pace
slackened. "Good, girl," Mason mumbled. His words were barely out
before the animal picked up speed and galloped toward the cliff’s
edge once again. Inches from land’s end—so close he felt the earth
separate and give way under the animal’s hooves—Chamois came to a
full stop and abruptly turned sideways. In one slick motion, the
horse hurled Mason toward the horizon.
     
    July 1927
     
    Reginald glimpsed
Elizabeth, his wife, approaching. He grasped her elbow when she
reached him. “Elizabeth, love, I want you to meet an old friend.
This is Duncan Dunn. We studied at Dalhousie together. We’ve been
talking about old times.”
    Elizabeth extended
her hand and smiled. “Nice to meet you, Duncan.”
    “ My
pleasure.”
    “ Duncan graduated a
year ahead of me. What year was that? 1913? Or was that my year?
Age is taking its toll.” Reginald chuckled as he glanced at his old
friend.
    “ Old age? You're
younger than me, Reginald. What are you, 38?”
    Elizabeth laughed. “I
think we’re all in the same boat. I’m forgetting everything
nowadays as well, and I’m younger than both of you. How long are
you here, Duncan?”
    “ Just overnight.
Catching a ride to Amherst in the morning, then the train to
Halifax.”
    Reginald faced his
wife and interjected, “I told Duncan how you and I are here for a
short vacation.”
    “ Yes, Reg is Truro’s
sheriff. Did he tell you that? He’s been so busy.” Without waiting
for an answer, she continued. “This is the perfect place for a
rest. So secluded and quiet. And the weather is beautiful this time
of year. We’re going to take a walk through the woods tomorrow
morning, if the bugs aren’t too bad. Right, Reggie?”
    “ Yes, dear, whatever
you want.”
    Duncan glanced at his
watch. “Sorry, but I must run. Might catch you in the morning
before I head out. If I don't, have a pleasant time and a safe trip
home.”
    “ Safe travels to you,
too,”