Vineyard Fear by Philip Craig Page A

were tanned, but his legs were still white.
    She looked at me, reached into her memory and came up with my name, and smiled.
    â€œJ.W. How are things on the beach?”
    â€œYou’re looking well,” I said.
    â€œI am well. I’m very well. I’d like you to meet Lloyd Cramer. Lloyd, this is J.W. . . . I’m sorry, but I don’t think I know your last name . . .”
    â€œJackson.”
    â€œJ.W. is a friend of Uncle Dan.”
    Lloyd had a mouthful of good teeth and a strong grip. There was a tattoo of a skull on the arm attached to the hand that took mine. There was a tattoo of a knife with a wavy blade on the other arm.
    â€œAny friend of Dan’s is a friend of mine,” said Lloyd in a hearty, Midwestern voice. “Pleased to meet you, sir.”
    Sir. I was only six or seven years older than he was.
    â€œYou’re new in town,” I said.
    â€œI wrote to him and he came all the way from Iowa City just to visit me,” said Geraldine in a happy voice. “Isn’t that sweet?”
    Lloyd shuffled his feet and put his arm around her shoulders. “After she left home to visit Dan and Jean, I realized how important she really is to me, so I just tooksome time off and came right here to tell her that. We’ve got a lot of things to talk about and we’re having fun doing it. Isn’t that right, honey?”
    â€œThat’s right,” said Geraldine, taking his hand. “We’re getting everything straightened out. Isn’t this weather just wonderful?”
    I thought that right now Geraldine would feel that a hurricane or a blizzard was wonderful weather.
    â€œI’ll let you get on with your talking,” I said.
    Lloyd put out his big hand again and I took it in my big hand.
    â€œNice to have met you, J.W.,” he said as he gave me his friendly smile.
    â€œHow long are you going to be around?” I asked Geraldine.
    She looked up at Lloyd and smiled. “Oh, not too much longer, I imagine. I think maybe I’ll be headed back to Iowa City soon.”
    Lloyd beamed down at her. “Great to hear you say that, sugar. Hey, let’s hit the beach. I gotta tan up these legs before I go back home.” He looked at me. “You got a really beautiful island here, J.W.”
    He showed me his fine teeth and she waved and they walked up North Water Street, headed, I guessed, for Lighthouse Beach. They looked like a happy pair. I hoped that it would last, but I didn’t share the belief of many women that their men would reform if given one last chance.
    I thought, Good luck to you, Geraldine Miles, and went into the library.
    Libraries are some of my favorite places. They’re filled with books and information and give you the good feeling that no matter how much you’ve read there’s an endless amount of reading material still ahead of you, so you never have to worry about running out. It’s a nice certainty in an uncertain world. I calculated the time left before the West Tisbury book sale, and got myself threebooks, including one about the popular inclination of conquering armies to burn books and destroy libraries.
    The idea of destroying libraries was one that irked me, and it occurred to me that maybe I took the book because I was already irked that Geraldine Miles had gotten back together with Lloyd and irked even more that I hadn’t gotten myself loose from my resentment that Zee was going off to New Hampshire. Reading of the destruction of the great libraries of Alexandria and Constantinople was only one more irritant in my irritated life. I apparently wanted an excuse to be out of temper. I turned this notion over in my mind and was not pleased with what it told me of myself. I went home and called the hospital and invited Zee to supper. She accepted.
    She was still wearing her white uniform when she got out of her little Jeep. She inhaled as she came into the house.
    â€œAh,