Viator

Wilander examined the question for traps, found none, and decided not to lie. Sometimes I don’t want to stay, but…yes.

—You’re staying so you can make maps of a place you claim the ship is showing you. Do you see anything wrong with that?

—I’m not crazy.

—I’m not saying you are! I’m accepting that what you say is true. It’s a supernatural event. Pictures are materializing on the walls of the ship and you’re going to stay on board and make maps from them. That doesn’t scare you? It doesn’t cause you to think the situation might be unhealthy? Dangerous? That you might be safer elsewhere? Somewhere the walls aren’t turning into pictures?

—I think, Wilander said cautiously, I need to be here for now.

She put a hand to her brow and let out a breath. How long do you figure for now is?

—Arlene. Wilander reached out to touch her shoulder, but she pulled away. He glanced at Terry and said, Why don’t you give us some space?

—No, don’t! Arlene signaled Terry to keep still. I’m almost done.

—I’ll go back to town with you, Wilander said.

—Not tonight, you won’t! You need to stay here, you need to give careful thought to what you’re doing.

—What does that mean?

—It means I want you to decide! Take a few days if you want. Take a week. But decide. I can’t handle this anymore. I shouldn’t have to.

Terry sidled toward the passageway. I’ll be on deck.

—It’d be nice if you called, Arlene said to Wilander. You know, to tell me what you’ve decided? But either way, if I don’t hear soon, my door will be closed. I won’t live like this.

—Live like what? I told you I’d leave after the first snowfall. I thought we agreed to that.

—I don’t believe you. I don’t believe you believe it yourself. Whatever’s going on with you, with the ship, it’s not good. You’re not in control.

—Look, I know this has been tough, and I wish things were different. I wish we’d met at a more propitious time. He took her hand, applied a light pressure, and though she did not return his pressure, she allowed his fingers to mingle with hers. But all this…all coming at once. You, the job, Viator. It’s been…

—I don’t want to hear about your problems anymore! She stepped around him and went to stand in the doorway. I worry about what’s happening to you. I worry all the time! But I’ve lived long enough, I’ve learned I can’t save anybody by hovering over them while they work out their problems. They take it for license; they convince themselves that on some level I must enjoy watching and waiting, or that I can tolerate it…or something! I’m going to worry about myself from now on. And you have to worry about yourself. Or not. That’s up to you. Do you understand?

Wilander couldn’t think what to say. Words occurred to him, too many words, words attached to feelings that, if not contrary to one another, seemed unrelated, as if he were feeling everything at once—anger, regret, love, several varieties of fear, even a perverse satisfaction at having so splendidly and so relentlessly mishandled the relationship. She asked again if he understood, demanding an answer, and he said, I think I’ve got it. Yeah.

She looked to be gathering herself, preparing, he thought, a goodbye; then, suddenly alert, she said, Oh! I have some news. It’s really the reason I came. I wasn’t going to, but I learned something you should know, and my phone was acting up. I did a search on the Internet for your employer.

—Lunde?

—There wasn’t much information. He’s spoken at a few conferences on unemployment. Things like that. But here’s the part that’ll interest you. Guess who Viator s captain was when she ran aground?

Wilander gawked at her.

—Jochanan Lunde. Your benefactor. Her eyes flashed to his face, then away, as if she were assessing the effect of this revelation, yet didn’t want him to catch the malicious expression that briefly surfaced, a malice he had sparked in her, that had remade an intended kindness into an intent to wound and confuse him, as she had been wounded and confused. What do you make of that? she asked, her tone too bright to communicate concern. Maybe he doesn’t have your welfare at heart after all.