Last Rites Read Online Free

reef the sail. See, Truman—don’t be so worried.”
    They sailed along for a few minutes, the only sounds the drone of insects, the occasional snap from the sail, and frequent bird calls from shore. Will clapped Truman on the back and smiled at him. “I’m going to go check on Rach. Just call me if anything changes. You’ll be fine.”
    Truman nodded and watched Will slip down the stairs in the companionway. He turned his attention back to Lucy, who stood beside the mast with her back to him. As he often did, he wondered what she was thinking. They communicated more now, but he knew that didn’t keep her from being nearly as much a mystery to him as she was to Will and Rachel. She liked working on the ship, he knew that—the sails, taking care of the water, even mopping the deck. She had the dexterity for fishing, more so than he, but she didn’t have the patience for it; sometimes she’d get a worm on a hook and cast, and then hand the rod to Truman while she went to do something else. He liked that, when they’d cooperate on some task neither could accomplish alone, like when they dressed her late at night. He felt so close to her at times like that. But her impatience was a big part of her, too. She tried to keep down the hunger, thank goodness, but there was always something so angry about her—frustration at everything around them, and especially, Truman thought, at herself.
    They were sailing along nicely when Truman noticed clouds off to the west. Typical summer day, with storms sometimes coming through, and these looked far enough away that he didn’t worry. Then the wind shifted suddenly, coming at them hard from the starboard. The wheel almost slipped out of his grasp, the force pushing against him was so strong, and he started really fighting the wheel to keep them in the middle of the river.
    Lucy had immediately seen the problem as well, and she moved to reef the sail before they were driven too far to port. Truman looked with rising alarm as she struggled with the line. It must’ve fouled in the block, and the wind in the sail was putting so much tension on the line she couldn’t free it. He’d seen this problem before, when they’d helped on deck, but with Will there, it hadn’t posed much danger, as he could help and still leave someone on the wheel. But Truman couldn’t leave the wheel unattended or they’d fly downwind, maybe even run aground. He was about to call for Will and hope he got up on deck quickly enough, when Lucy finally freed the line and lowered the sail. The force pushing against the wheel eased, and Truman felt safer.
    Lucy turned toward him and dragged the back of her hand across her forehead. She even graced him with a little smile and a thumbs up. He shook his head at her but returned the gesture.
    Even without adrenaline flowing, there was no question that excitement and danger still intoxicated them—it’s just that such things made Truman feel weak and disoriented, while they seemed to make Lucy feel emboldened, invigorated, sometimes even a little playful, like the way she was acting now.
    Truman watched Lucy secure the sail and settle down by the forward hatch. She often liked being a little distant from the others, even him. They had the whole night to sit together, after all.
    She’d brought the portable CD player with her on deck, and now Truman heard some nice classical music in addition to the background noises of the river. It was a symphony, he could tell that much, but he didn’t know music like Lucy did. He thought it might be Mahler, as she’d been listening to that a lot lately.
    As she listened to the music, Lucy began working on a pile of long, thin leaves they’d collected days before. She’d gotten good at weaving them into baskets for various things.
    Truman relaxed a bit after their excitement. The ship was back on course, and the wheel didn’t feel so unnatural or dangerous to him anymore. He could do this, he thought—though he still