The Ferry Landing, Part 1

The ferry line stretches back to the lighthouse on a Friday evening near the end of summer. A high school kid hands the narrator the latest island newsletter through the car window. The ink smudges in the humid air. There is news about road resurfacing and channel markers, but the narrator’s favorite part is the personal messages section. In today’s edition, on the second-to-last page in the bottom right corner, a few bold lines read: “The Beagle has landed. Meet at the usual place. Bring the key.”

The summer of S and C

The narrator remembers a slow-burn romance that played out in those same personal messages a few years ago. It started with a simple “Thinking of you” signed with a single initial: S. Then: “Sunset on the bay was lovely, but lonely without you” — also S. A week later: “These better be about me” — signed C. Back and forth they went, from June through August. “Did you get the flowers?” — S. “Yes, and you know lilies are my favorite” — C. If a week passed without a message from one of them, the whole island felt cheated. Theories swirled about who they were — a long-nursed crush? A star-crossed pair who had just met? The hardware store owner, who handled the submission forms for the newsletter, was hounded for information. He eventually put a sign in his window saying he didn’t know, that the forms came in through the mail without return addresses, and to plea