Who is Mackie Spence? by Lin Kaymer Page A

the beach. Then I return to Mackie, wading back in the calm shore water and bend down so she can leverage herself against me. It takes a while, but finally she’s upright. I slip my left shoulder under her right arm and half drag her to the beach. She sits on the cold, wet sand and cobblestones with her head down in her hands.
    Returning to the water once more, I haul her kayak out and place it on the rack.
    I check in with her again. “Are you okay?” I ask, needing to have some idea whether she can walk.
    â€œYeah, thanks. I think it’s going be a few minutes before I can get up the stairs.” But, her eyes beg me for help.
    I think about that as I put our paddles and vests back in storage. As I approach Mackie, I see her shaking even harder than when we climbed out of our boats. I don’t have a jacket to give her so I sit on the ground, holding her against my chest, hoping my body will warm hers.
    â€œMackie, I’ve seen orcas hunting for food before, but this was the closest I’ve ever been to one. He was huge! I’m thinking thirty feet. We had six tons of whale next to us.”
    â€œYeah, he was big. And really sick. I need to get some dry clothes on. So do you,” she says.
    I help her to stand. I want to ask her more about the whale. Not now , her eyes tell me.
    Moving wouldn’t be fast, I know that right off. I’m afraid to let go of her because her balance isn’t good and she might fall over. So, I keep an arm around her. I feel Mackie’s weight against my side. We retrace our steps up the rough stone stairway and enter the Spence’s house through their back door. Gus, the family’s basset hound, greets us with nose bumps and follows us to the kitchen.
    She looks at me and lets out a big sigh. “Will you call Jen?”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œTell her that I’m not feeling well, that you walked me home, and you’re going home, too.”
    I send a text to Jen:
    mac not feeling 2 well I walked her home & am going home sorry 2 miss UR party
    In a few seconds, I read Jen’s reply:
    2 bad. Miss U B good.
    Mackie looks at the kitchen clock. It’s close to ten. With one hand on the kitchen counter, she appears to have more strength, but occasionally shakes in an uneven shudder. “Sorry. I just don’t want anyone to worry when we don’t go back to the party,” she says.
    â€œYeah, I can understand that.”
    â€œJer, I have to take a shower or I won’t warm up. If you want, you can too, in the guest room.”
    I know the house well. The guest bedroom and bath are just off the main room.
    She calls after me. “Use the bathrobe on the shelf and meet me in the kitchen. I’ll put your clothes in the dryer. Okay?”
    â€œOkay,” I say, still feeling like I’m in some play where I don’t know my role. What is going on with Mackie tonight, and why am I part of it?
    The spray of shower water registers hot against my chilled skin. My body soon is warm and relaxed, but my mind races. What if her parents come home early? How can we explain any of this? I quickly towel dry and put on a large, white bathrobe, wondering if Mackie has finished taking her shower.
    Padding to the kitchen with my wet briefs, jeans, and shirt clutched in front of me like an offering to the dryer gods, I see Mackie standing next to two steaming cups.
    I swallow hard. She looks so beautiful, her hair long, already dried and shiny, a light blue T-shirt bringing out color in her cheeks. She wears a pair of old, faded blue jeans that have patches on the back pockets.
    â€œI didn’t know if you wanted some, but I made us hot chocolate. I’ll set the dryer on extract and speed dry,” she says.
    I hand her my soggy clothes. She turns the corner into a hallway, disappearing while I take my first sip of hot chocolate. It tastes so good I could gulp the scalding liquid and be finished before she’s back.
    She