Our Infinite Sadness

First Beach

Ben awoke too late, with no time to gird himself for the day, after his long night with Zoey. He threw the window open and scrutinized the patches of blue, continually disappearing and reconstituting in the wake of roiling clouds. Forks was progressively reacquiring its usual dreary weather, but he hoped that the morning would remain dry.

The thermometer-cracking temperature, however, precluded any thought of wading on the strand today. He grabbed his Gore-Tex raingear and raced to the bathroom.

Charlie had left for the morning's fishing hole hours ago, so he dashed out of the house for his truck and gulped down chunks of an unheated bagel on the way to Newton's Olympic Outfitters, the place owned by Micaela's parents, the designated meeting spot. He had seen the store on his way to and fro between home and other destinations, but he had never stopped there. Early on, he had resolved to pop in and shop for an amateur-grade, inexpensive set of Telemark skis. But seeing as it looked as though he would wrap up ski season without ever actually descending a slope, that hadn't ever happened.

In the parking lot stood a large scrum of partygoers, at least twenty-five, with six large recreational utility vehicles lined up behind them. Ben intended on taking his own ride to La Push, for sake of flexibility, should things work out with Jake Black and should he want to break from the party for a visit to Jake's house. Still, he thought he'd bring up the tail of the caravan, just to feel like part of the group.

Micaela as the designated hostess and self-described organizer rushed up to greet him.

"You came!" she called, sounding thrilled. "I wasn't sure if we'd be meeting you there. Or if you'd actually show at all, for that matter."

Ben glanced up at the churning gray clouds and said, "I told you I was coming. Over and over."

"You also whined over and over that it's winter."

"That was in March. It's spring now."

"True. So we're just about ready to go. Just getting organized."

He tried to force a plausible smile, but he felt his cynicism wearing through. They had been organizing this party since the ice storm, six weeks ago.

He tried to stay out of their way as they packed and repacked vehicles, debated seating arrangements, and waited for stragglers to arrive.

All the while, he silently wished that Edythe would change her mind and make a surprise appearance. He could think of nothing to preclude it, not if she really did want his company. After all, Charlie had provided that the wilderness region south of Rainier was terrible for backpacking. That meant her story likely had only been an alibi, as the cynical half of his mind had suspected. He wondered what Edythe was really up to, these past several days, and he recalled Zoey's admonishment last night to be careful with her. Zoey's uncanny female intuition informed them that something was off with the Cullen girl.

He forced himself to paint a smile on, because Micaela had returned to ask if he wanted to leave his truck here in the parking lot and carpool.

He explained, "I'd better bring my own ride. Since I might be meeting up with other people later."

"Oh, right. You did say that. Okay, just follow us, then."

Ben trailed the caravan on the argument that he had the slowest vehicle and knew the way. He invited no one along, and no one volunteered. Most of the others were paired up. He preferred the solitude, particularly when all of the others sped on ahead, far in excess of the speed limit. The suburban sprawl gave way to isolated ranches and then to nothing but old forest crowding in on the narrow road. Towering conifers encroached from both sides, putting the road at the bottom of a chasm, in perpetual shadow. Ben could often see the wide shallow bed of the Quillayute River through the trees, turbulent swirls that carved a serpentine path roughly parallel to the road for much of the fifteen mile distance to the shore.