The Edge

“Oh, yeah, just not what it was. That’s why a lot of restaurants don’t have it on the menu no more — can’t get it. And when they do, who wants to pay eighty bucks for a dang lobster? And Lord, they got regulations you got to jump through. We got different fishing zones in Maine. In our zone we got large tides, mor’n fifteen feet and strong bottom currents, so the ropes we use with the traps move. They said endangered whales were getting stuck in the vertical lines and such, so you got to use different gear and change how you lay it so a passing whale can snap it. If they do, there goes your gear. And the ropes get snagged on rock and such down there. Lose the rope, the traps, the whole shebang with that as well. Now, some lobstermen won’t fish in certain areas because of that. They go to muddy or sandy bottom so their ropes don’t get snagged. But the thing is lobster like the hard bottom, so you’re not going to trap as many. Catch-22, that is.”

“I can see that,” said Devine. “We had some Catch-22s in the military as well. And lots of early mornings, too.”

“Best time of the day to be out there, though. You wake up before the sun, see a new day unfold right in front of you on the water. Ain’t none of us guaranteed another hour of living, don’t care who you are or how much you got. Might as well get up early and enjoy what time you got left, I say.”

He looked out the SUV’s window, and it wasn’t hard for Devine to deduce that the older man was thinking about his wife and the car that had killed her and then driven off.

“Yes, sir, you’re right about that,” said Devine, now thinking about how close the previous night had come to being his last night on earth. “And I appreciate you helping me find out who hurt Jenny,” he added, trying to draw the old man back to the task at hand.

But Palmer didn’t respond to this. He just kept staring out the window.

They reached the spot and he helped ease Palmer from his seat. Devine walked slowly because Palmer was not moving steadily or swiftly over the distance, even with the sturdy walking stick he had brought along.

“Knees and hips,” he said in response to Devine’s look. “Need to get ’em all replaced, but I ain’t got the money for that. Even with Medicare, which pays a big chunk of it. I ain’t got no supplemental, see? The deductible and copayments were just too much for my Social Security, which is all I got. Might be able to get one hip and maybe a knee done, but then who’s going to help me with the rehab? Local hospital shut down a decade ago, and the closest place is forty miles from here. And nobody comes to the home no more, not out here.”

“Then where do people go for their health issues?”

“Doc Guillaume does all she can. She tried to help me with the insurance stuff and all. A while back she helped me get a surgery I needed done. She comes by to check on me, and Bertie when she was alive. Did the same for others. Very kind woman. Knew her mom and dad and her uncle. Hell, knew their parents, too. The Bings started the funeral business a long time ago.”

“How about your granddaughter? Could she help?”

“Annie’s got her own life and a business to run. She doesn’t need to be cooking my meals and changing my damn diaper.”

They slowly walked to the edge and both men looked out at the ocean.

“Prettier than any gal I ever seen, ’cept Bertie,” said Palmer.

Devine looked down to the rocks where Jenny’s body had fallen.

Or been placed.

Devine noticed that Palmer never once looked down. He kept his gaze on the horizon.

Maybe this is his safe space, like every ceiling I look at.

“So you came to this spot and looked down and there she was?”

“Yes, that’s right,” replied Palmer, still not looking down, which was odd because most people, with the words Devine had used, would look down.

“Is this spot special to you?”

Palmer swiveled his head to the right and eyed him cagily. “Every inch of coastline is special to me. Just happened to be this one I walked to that night. But not the only one. This was my third that night.”

“You didn’t mention that before.”

“Well, now I am,” Palmer said, more fiercely than Devine’s comment really merited.

Devine stared pointedly at the man, specifically at his neck.

“You find it hard to wander around like that at night with your hips and knees the way they are?”

“People are meant to move. Actually helps me. You sit all day you get stiff as a board. Walking lubes the old joints. Least it does mine.”

Okay, that was neatly done, thought Devine.