The Incident on the Bridge Read Online Free Page A

It was akin to sifting sand every day for forty-eight years and finding, in the very last handful, the pearl that had fallen out of its setting all those years ago, the pearl that he alone—he
alone
—remembered.
    The girl in pink boots was Julia, he was sure of it. Her walk, her manner, her eyes were the same! Her concern for creatures. When one dies, another is created. Shiva protects souls until they are ready for rebirth. She knew that, and when she stared into the water, she seemed to be watching for it to happen.
    But how could he make the girl see that he was the same Frank, just older, but that he was different now? That he had been given another chance?
    “Do not expect the Lost One to remember you,”
the Seer had warned. The Seer was very cryptic on this point, and the letters, especially of late, were discouraging.
“The past is present as the moon is present when the earth is turned away, but can the earth make the moon look at her? Yea, it must.”
    Frank couldn’t go to Julia in daylight, because the ignorant families on the beach, the boaters, the swimmers on the pier would not see the seven signs. They would not see that this girl was his sister come back to life. How could they? He had to approach her in darkness. If he had to be the stronger one for now, it would all be worth it when Julia said, “Yes, I remember now. I remember you.” He would tell her why it took him so long to come back to the cave that day and how sorry he was, and how long he’d been preparing for her return.
    Frank had seen the new Julia many times, mainly on the rocks where she took notes and pictures, but also on her bike, on the docks at the yacht club where he was not a member, and on a catamaran with another girl, perhaps the sister of her new life. With each glimpse he was more certain and more determined. He didn’t want to make another mistake, like he had in Oceano. That girl wasn’t Julia, though she shared some traits, a few, enough to fool him.
    He had learned from his mistake: Don’t be impulsive. Observe. Bide your time. Trust in Shiva.
    He had an inflatable Ribcraft he used for fishing in both bays, the big and the little, plus a dinghy for going back and forth from the
Sayonara
to Tidelands Park, where he kept a bike for doing errands in town. He had the stun gun, which he would use only if he had to, if she wouldn’t listen.
    Initially he had come to this place off Coronado Island to save money, not just because of the girl in Oceano. Mooring in the bay and living aboard would make his percentage of the inheritance last until he found Julia and bought her a little cottage close to Pismo so she could live near Cousin Telma if something happened to him. It wasn’t bad living on a boat, and when he needed to get off the water, there was a lot of undergrowth along the bike path and on both sides of the hill where the bridge connected with the island—a forest, really, a small piece of wilderness between the golf course and the park, with all manner of trees and dense acacias. He kept a few things there for safety and convenience, wrapped in plastic so the weather couldn’t rot them, buried in the soil so the world wouldn’t steal them, and from the forest he saw women and girls go under the bridge. Cycling, laughing, walking. Julia’s soul did not shine out, though, until he saw the girl with brown hair and pink boots staring into the water and making notes. If he could only be alone with her the way the Seer had instructed, she would remember.
    “Can the earth make the moon look at her? Yea, it must.”
    Maybe tonight was the night. He would do his circuit in town: sort through the trash bins, take bottles and cans to the machines at Albertsons, withdraw cash, buy supplies, check his camp in the acacias. Keep his eyes open for the seventh sign. On the water or on the earth she would come to him.

T hisbe had never noticed before what a lot of streetlights burned around the library, turning the air