34 The Envelope
Katherine woke with a start, her heart racing, her breath coming in quick, short gasps. Sitting up in bed, she brushed beads of sweat from her forehead. She had been running… no, swimming… wait—it was the Captain. The Captain was swimming…no, drowning! The horror of her nightmare swept over her again as she struggled to separate dream from reality.
It had all been so real. She had seen Captain Braddock fall into the harbor at the end of the pier and had run down it, trying to get to him. She shuddered as she remembered how he had come up, arms flailing, out of the water, spluttering as he gulped desperately for air before disappearing again beneath the stormy harbor.
She had run, but in that awful suspension of reality peculiar to dreams, the pier had grown longer and longer, the boards firm and hollow sounding beneath her feet, stretching out in front of her. She couldn’t reach him, and just as he came up for one last breath of air, she heard him gasp out a desperate cry:
“Serena!”
That was when Katherine had jolted awake, the captain’s voice still ringing through her mind. She had fallen asleep the night before thinking about the Harborside and Captain Braddock and could trace those thoughts through the awful dream.
There must be a way to save them, she thought.
Flinging back the blankets, she swung her feet out onto the hardwood floor, cold with the early chill of a frosty February morning. She walked to the window seat and nestled herself into the pile of cushions. Pulling a blanket out of the basket next to the window, she wrapped herself up against the cold which radiated from the frost-edged window and leaned her head against the glass pane.
She thought about the captain’s last cry in her dream. Serena, she thought, it all just comes down to Serena. But where is she? And how can I find her?
With a deep sigh, she pulled the blanket tighter and looked out at the faint blue light of early dawn. Lord, please show me what to do.
* * * *
Later that day, Katherine walked by Miss Harriet with a tray of dishes as the older woman stood behind the counter, refilling the glass-domed pastry displays. Stopping suddenly next to her, Katherine asked,
“What did this shop used to be before you came?”
Surprised, Miss Harriet stopped polishing and turned to look at her. “I don’t quite remember… I think it was a haberdasher’s shop, or something like it. Why do you ask?”
“I just noticed all those tiny drawers in the back of the counter. It’s like the counter at the Harborside, but with more drawers, and smaller.”
“Yes, I’ve been hard put to find a good use for those drawers, I’m afraid. They’re quite small, and there are so many of them.”
“I can see how they would be good for a haberdashery, though. All those little bobbins and buttons and bits of trim. It would have been perfect.”
“Yes, I see what you mean.”
Miss Harriet went back to polishing, and Katherine carried her tray into the kitchen. An idea had begun to form in her mind.
* * * *
“Mr. James, I need your help,” Katherine said the next morning, sliding into the chair opposite the startled reporter.
“Of course, Katherine. What is it?”
“I have an idea, but I’m not quite ready to tell Miss Harriet about it yet. I need to iron out some details, and wondered if I could talk it over with you?”
“Of course. But you know I don’t like keeping anything secret from Harriet.”
“It won’t be for long. Just until I can get the details worked out.”
“All right, then. Tell me all about it.”
* * * *
“Well, don’t you two look conspiratorial,” said Miss Harriet as she walked over to their table a little while later.
“Ah, well…” Mr. James began.
“I’ve been asking Mr. James for some advice.” Katherine said, interrupting his search for just the right words.
“All right. I won’t pry. But Katherine, you’ll be late for the Harborside if you don’t leave in the next minute or two.”
“Oh, my! I lost track of the time. Thank you!” Katherine said, jumping out of her chair and throwing on her jacket. As she rushed out the door and hurried down the street towards the Harborside, she couldn’t help but smile as a faint bit of hope began to take root in her heart. It just might work, she thought.
She stopped for a moment at the end of the pier she had run down in her dream. She could still close her eyes and see the horrific scene of the captain struggling in the water. A sudden pang of doubt pierced her.
It may work, but will it be enough?
