The Unbraced Hull

Saturday, February 18, 2023

With the flick of a switch a silence descended, almost as decisively as the thick blackness that prompted it. Thirty-two-year-old Harper Jenkins crouched low behind the couch, no less ready than a prowling panther. A ticking clock counted the seconds, until over her own muted breath, the sound of a key sliding into a deadbolt, and its double cylinders clunking. Harper’s nose tickled. Damn it! A sneeze was brewing. She muzzled her mouth and held her breath. Another click, and white light spilled from the three hanging orbs overhead. Harper leapt to her feet and sneezed, while the other thirty guests hollered, “Surprise!”

Annie Gardner almost leapt out of the sensible lace-up shoes that accompanied her navy-blue paramedic's outfit. She patted her chest, and her gaping mouth stretched into a beaming grin. With sparkling eyes, the auburn-haired thirty-four-year-old scanned the room and said, “Alright, well, I noticed a bunch of muddy boot prints on my nice clean footpath, so the police are on their way.”

 A strapping Roger Everett stuck his hand in the air. “That was me. Sorry.” Annie and the bubbly gathering laughed, and then they all swarmed to the birthday girl with their affection. Harper’s friend, Claudia, left her side to join them, while Harper stayed put and watched with admiration, as Annie became the subject of much hugging and fussing.

Soon after, Annie’s favourite Foo Fighters album was blaring when the birthday girl found both Harper and Claudia in the crowd.

“Hey, Claude!” Annie and Claudia embraced, which to Harper’s shame sparked a rush of jealousy.

Claudia said, “Happy birthday, beautiful.”

“Thank you, Claude.” The pair uncoupled, and Harper studied Annie’s emerald eyes, which came to her with what Harper wanted to believe was more than just friendship.

Harper said, “Happy birthday, Annie.” Annie smiled and inched towards her, and for whatever stupid reason, Harper folded her arms in front of her chest.

Seemingly unperturbed, Annie said, “Thanks for coming, Harp. It’s so good to see you; both of you. Work has been so crazy. I feel like I’ve been neglecting everyone.”

Harper said, “I’m sure that’s not—”

Claudia blurted, “I’ve got something for you.” Out of her handbag she pulled a pink envelope and passed it to Annie with obvious pride.

Annie said, “Claude, you didn’t have to…” She drew from the envelope a slip, and her mouth fell open. “Claude, this is…”

Claudia said, “It’s not just for you. I booked myself in, but I wanted someone to join me, and I knew you’d be super keen.”

“Claudia, this is extremely generous. I…”

“Say you’ll join me. It’ll be a blast.”

Harper gauged Annie’s expression. Her parted plum lips were neither smiling nor frowning, but rather stalled at the in-between. Her eyes fell to the slip in her hand, until she finally lifted a grin. “I’d love to. I’ve never jumped out of a plane before. It’ll be an amazing experience. Thank you so much.”

Harper threw a glare at Claudia. The excitement stirred in the woman’s cheeks like two ripe tomatoes bursting through the skin.

Harper’s gift for Annie was in her handbag, and thanks to Claudia’s grand offering, in Harper’s handbag it stayed.

Laney swooped in and looped her arm around her best friend’s waist. “Annie. I’ve got another surprise for you, straight from the airport. Come and see!” Annie checked Harper with a glance indecipherable, before Laney whisked her away into the crowd.

Harper turned on her friend, a term that meant less and less these days. “Really, Claude? Sky diving?” Claudia brushed dark, curly locks off her shoulder. Then she took a sip of bourbon. Harper wanted to swipe the glass from her backstabbing fingers. “You knew I wanted to do this for her. You knew I couldn’t afford it right now and you…” Over Claudia’s shoulder, Harper caught sight of Annie, who peered back at her with what might have been concern. Harper feigned a smile and turned her back.

Claudia gulped down the rest of her beverage, then leaned close and whispered, “I’m sorry if you feel I’m treading on your toes. But I have a lot more in common with Annie than you do. And seriously, Harp, the last thing you should be worrying about in your current situation is a new relationship.”

“Oh, so this is you doing me a favour.”

“This is me going after what I want. Maybe if you’d done the same, you wouldn’t be living in a tent in that god awful caravan park.”

Harper’s eyes stung for words she deemed both tactless and cruel. But Claudia wasn’t’ done.

“Look at this place, Harp. Look at her. What can you and Annie possibly have in common? I’m saying this as a friend: don’t embarrass yourself. You need to focus on the basics. You need to get your shit together. There. I said it. I’m going to get another drink.”

Claudia left her there, with the music pumping, the crowd chattering, and Harper’s tears ballooning.

Seeking solitude, Harper stepped out onto the balcony, and leaned against the railing. It was dark out, and a pleasant breeze brushed her fringe across her brow. She peered out over the strait. The lights of passing ships glimmered like stars, cutting a slow but steady path through the night.

A gentle voice sounded from behind. “Here you are.” Harper turned to Annie’s warm smile. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“I just needed some air. It’s a beautiful evening.”

Annie stood beside her and cast her eye out. “It certainly is.” The smile diminished. “Listen, Harp, Claude told me about the house. I am so sorry that happened to you.”

Not at all thrilled by Claudia’s mouthing, Harper replied, “It’s just temporary. I’ll find something. I’ll be okay.”

“The market is insane right now. I’d offer you a room if I could. As it is, Laney’s fella is moving in. They jacked up his rent, and he was already struggling. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“I’m fine. Really.”

“Are you sure? I feel so awful.”

“Please, don’t. I’ll be okay. I just… I just need to get my shit together.”

“This isn’t your fault, Harp. The housing crisis here is very real. You don’t deserve to be without a home. No one deserves that.”

Grateful for Annie’s understanding, Harper took the package from her handbag, still embarrassed by its modest value. She said, “Listen, I’m gonna get going soon, but I wanted to give this to you first. It’s… it’s nothing big. Happy birthday.”

Annie’s wide grin returned. “You didn’t have to do that, Harp.”

“It’s not much, but I… I hope you like it.”

Annie ripped into the red packaging with enthusiasm, and then her jaw dropped. She beheld Harper then, with green eyes full of gratitude. “How ever did you find this?”

Harper’s heart lifted. “It took a bit of tracking down, but I… well, I was determined.”

The book – Given This Day – was written by Ree, an independent author who had self-published only two novels before she disappeared under what police had deemed ‘suspicious circumstances.’ Annie owned and adored the first book, but the second had been unpublished only weeks after its release, so that the few copies that had been printed, were the only ones that would ever exist. Not only did Harper have to track one down, she had to offer five times the book’s original asking price to entice the owner to sell.

Annie turned the tome in her hand and brushed delicate fingers over the glossy cover. Then she took Harper in her arms and gushed over her shoulder, “This is the most thoughtful present I’ve ever received. Thank you so much, Harp.”

After Claudia’s scorn, Annie’s kindness seemed all the more profound.

The glass door rumbled open, and Laney stepped onto the balcony. “Am I interrupting?”

Annie let Harper go and replied, “We were just catching up.”

Laney’s sideways glance stirred Harper once more to shame; a discomfiture that wouldn’t be undone by the brunette’s cheery offering: “It’s time to cut the cake.”

Annie gave Harper a wink. “Come on. You have to at least stay for cake.”

Laney dragged Annie away, and at the door peered over her shoulder.

Harper imagined in that moment, what people might be saying about her. Harper without a home; Harper living in a tent; Harper with her low-paying job who was no doubt just one step away from the gutter.

Humiliated, Harper didn’t stay for cake. Instead, she eased her way through the crowd, snuck through to the front door, and left without further word.

***

Laney dragged Annie into her bedroom and blustered, “Please tell me you’re not thinking of dating that woman.”

Annie’s hackles rose. “Why? Because she’s having a bit of a rough time right now?”

“What? No! I’m talking about Claudia Lyle.”

“Oh.” Annie rubbed the back of her neck. “Well, I… I get the impression she’s interested.”

“But are you interested in her?”

“We share some common ground, I suppose.”

“That’s not what I asked you.”

Annie glanced down at the book in her hand. The spine was cracked and the pages a little dull, but it appeared to have been well cared for, if not loved. She looked up and said, “No. No, I’m not interested in Claudia. Now please tell me why you’re asking.”

“Because you can tell a lot about a person by how she treats her friends. Pity poor Harper Jenkins, is all I can say.”

Confounded, Annie asked, “Why? What was Claudia saying about Harper?”

After an eye-popping, infuriating recounting of a conversation Laney had overheard – of Claudia’s scathing assessment of Harper’s unfortunate circumstance – Laney said, “You like her. Harper, I mean.”

“Yes, I like her. She doesn’t deserve for those things to be said about her. Especially not by a friend.”

Laney came close and took Annie’s hand. “Then go find her. Life is short, Annie. You know that better than anyone. And if you want to, offer her the study. A bed will fit in there. I’ll move my office to my room.”

Annie had always been grateful for her best friend, but in that moment, she had never been prouder of Laney Bates and her huge, generous heart. “I wish Claudia was to Harper what you are to me.”

“Sometimes it takes rough sailing to find out where the leaks are. Seems to me Claudia’s hull could use some bracing. Now go on. Go tell Harper she has a real friend.”

***

Five days later…

Claudia was driving home from work when the voice of news anchor, Justin Howell, came over the radio. As Claudia pulled into her street, she cranked the volume.

'Police are baffled by the disappearance of thirty-two-year-old waitress, Harper Jenkins, who was last seen five days ago at a surprise birthday party that took place at a home in the coastal town of Penguin. It’s been established that she caught a ride to the party, but it seems she left alone and hasn’t been heard from since.

The alarm was raised by friends who also attended the celebration, and they’ve told police they’ve been searching for Jenkins ever since she left the gathering, which they estimate at around nine-thirty p.m. Witnesses say she was wearing black jeans and a white shirt, and carrying a blue handbag. Anyone who has information on Harper Jenkins is encouraged to call Crime Stoppers on-'

Claudia killed the radio. Every power pole she passed featured a poster of Harper’s smiling face, and above it, MISSING. Claudia pulled up at the house, and moments later in the rearview mirror, spied a man and a woman – both donning dark suits and sober expressions – loping up the driveway.

She had known it would only be a matter of time before they circled back to her. She checked her reflection in the rearview. Sweat had popped on her brow, and her bottom lip was trembling. She gripped the wheel, desperate for a way to explain. But how would she explain that it was Annie and Laney – not Claudia – who had stuck hundreds of posters across town in a bid to find their friend? How would she explain that at the party and in a drunken state, she had watched Harper and Annie together and become jealous to the point of seething? How would she explain that on seeing Harper leave the party, she had gotten into her car and followed her friend up a side street? How could she ever make anyone understand that in the argument that ensued, Harper was being unreasonable to the point of hysteria? How could she explain that Harper’s fall was an accident, that her cracked skull was never planned, and that it might have happened even if Claudia hadn’t pushed her? And how would she ever make anyone believe that throwing her in the dumpster at the back of the bottleshop, that returning to the party in a state of calm, was not an act of cowardice or of malice, but of survival?

The bearded fellow in the suit knocked on the driver’s window. He said, “Claudia Lyle, please step out of the vehicle, ma’am.”

Regret oozed like molten lead over her burning cheeks. Claudia released the seatbelt and opened the door.