Undeniable Relations

ONE
Friday, January 10, 1958

When he was shoved off the public wharf into the depths of Yarmouth Harbor at high tide, he had no time to speculate whether anyone had witnessed his murder. He didn’t even have a moment to be angry with himself for having agreed to meet his killer at the wharf. The fog was “as thick as pea soup” the locals say, and it was impossible to tell what anybody was doing a couple of feet in front of, or behind you. It was as if that mass of white had been expressly ordered by his enemy to swallow the town, and him with it.

When he hit the surface, he thrashed about in the blackness, and he knew his life would soon be over. He had never learned to swim, and the shock of the frigid harbor that assaulted his body lulled him into complete submission. The claustrophobic saltwater demanded to fill his mouth, nose, and ears. He lapsed into unconsciousness, and as death overtook him, he welcomed it: whatever had gone wrong, or whatever he had done wrong in his life, now meant nothing.

After his demise, his body slowly floated southward. The fluorescent pools of gasoline on the harbor’s surface, cigarette butts, candy wrappers and miscellaneous paper products accompanied him. When his body was found many hours later at low tide, it had not yet reached the mouth of the harbor, but had become entangled in rocks and ubiquitous masses of seaweed. Some would later say that it was a righteous end for a person like himself.

***
TWO
Wednesday, May 30, 1956

Thirty-one-year-year old Angus McMaster had been living in Halifax since he was eleven years old, but was born in Yarmouth. He and his mother Eva left that town in 1935; a few local gossips still spoke of the scandal that preceded their departure. Eva was the granddaughter of Captain Jacob and Signe Burcharth. That couple’s three daughters, including Eva’s mother, Elisabet, had been the fodder for exaggerated tales of moral decline in Yarmouth due to their unconventional lifestyles.

Angus was blessed with a ready smile and a serious interest in anything historical. He had been an English teacher in Halifax, and when an opportunity arose to teach History in his hometown, he immediately applied for the job.

After stepping off the train in Yarmouth, he walked up the hill and along Main Street to the Grand Hotel. To stay there for the time being was a luxury for the schoolteacher, but he hoped it wouldn’t be for too long. For financial reasons, he had to find a decent, furnished apartment to rent as soon as possible.

He had put his suitcase on the luggage rack in his guestroom when the telephone rang.

“Yes? Angus McMaster here.”

“It’s the hotel operator. I have a long-distance call for you from Denmark. Let me patch you through.”

Angus heard a couple of clicks and then the familiar, reassuring voice of his mother came over the line.

“How’re you doing, sweetie? All settled in?”

“Hi Mom! No, not exactly, but your timing is spot-on. Where’re you now?”

“I told you I’d call you today, dear,” Eva McMaster replied. “I’m in Copenhagen with your Uncle Marc. He was able to leave his job in Stockholm for a couple of weeks, so we’ll tour around the country and maybe go to Amsterdam. I’m a free woman, Angus, and I’m having the time of my life!”