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there was a movement afoot among the summer residents to restore the old Pequot name for the place。） The largest beach； called the Serpentine by the British for its snaky shape； runs the western length。 A Victorian Wedding Cake House called the Mohegan； converted in recent years to a twenty room hotel； sits perched on the main bluff overlooking the most public part of the Serpentine。 On either side are the summer homes … the large and the ordinary； and the woods all mixed in and winding through them。 More than half the roads on Outerbridge were still dirt； there was no McDonald's； no 7…11； and only two stoplights between the three townships。
Spring shat out of winter in New England … and along the uneven row of islands called the Avalons that skirted Connecticut； Rhode Island； and a bare tip of Massachusetts； it was a heavy crap of rain and then sun and then rain and finally sun … the merciless summer sun which never left until two weeks after Labor Day。 Outerbridge had it the worse； for the two other large Avalons … and the smaller rocky ledges called islets that formed part of the coastal barrier against the Atlantic … got the good weather first； or else no one much lived there to care。
Outerbridge； the furthest up the coastline was more narrow than wide … six miles long； two…and…a…half miles wide … with bluffs to the south and north； the Great Salt Pond at its center； the Wequetaket swamps in the lower points to the east； there are two hundred and fifty three summer residents； there are seventy…five in the winter； most of them over sixty。 At the height of winter's cruelty； helicopters e in with supplies。 That sounds outrageous； but it's true； for Outerbridge is further from the mainland than even the Vineyard and Nantucket to the north … it is beyond beyond beyond； and there is no crossing easily。 The historic landmarks are South Light and North Light； the two lighthouses that still work； sentries at either end of the island； Old Town； or Old Town Harbor as the old…timers call it； is at the southern tip； Quonnoquet Haven； with its bluffs and spectacular view of what they call the Big Nothing； where even the mainland is unseen in the distance； lays to the north of the island This particular day was the glinting kind。 Sun glinted off the Sound； and even the virgin leaves on the wet trees … and the bark； too … all of it spattered light refracted through the hangover of the night of rain so recently over。 He hated it … he hated the end of winter； because it was usually the end of control within his parents house。 His mother had been in bed for most of it； nursing imagined traumas； while his father had spent his hours away from home； either working as a handyman and gardener at the Big House； or in town or down to Old Town Harbor for drinks with his friends。
Owen Crites looked to summer for one thing； and one thing only。 It would be the arrival of Jenna Montgomery； and that would mean that his misery； his feeling of loneliness would vanish。
It was a singular obsession of his。
She was purity。
2
〃Hi；〃 he said to her when he was six。
〃Hi；〃 she replied。 But she hadn't needed to。 She was six and all ringlets and ribbons and party dress。
〃Owen；〃 he said。
〃I know。 Hank's your daddy。〃
The fact that she called his father by his first name shocked Owen。 No other child called a parent by the first name。 It was taboo。 And to call his father 〃Hank〃 and not 〃Henry〃 seemed far too familiar。
〃I know where you live；〃 she added； an afterthought。
〃Here；〃 he said； meaning her property。
〃In my yard；〃 she said。 〃You have the big goldfish pond。〃
〃Koi；〃 he corrected her。
〃And all the roses my mommy loves；〃 she said； and then took him by the hand and brought him into her world … the birthday party； the children from New York； the pony rides on the bluffs； the smoked turkey sandwiches； the games of pin…the…tail； and the dance。 He had been woefully under… dressed in a torn pair of jeans and a t…shirt。 The other boys all wore white shirts and little ties； their hair glistened with gel。 The girls were in puffy dresses and glittery shoes。 He had no gift for her then。 It had panicked him midway through the party。
He went and found a gift she had not yet unwrapped； and he threw away the other child's card。 On the wrapping paper； he scrawled … Hapy Birthday from Owen。 As it turned out； the gift was a small hand puppet； and Owen took it from Jenna and began doing something that he didn't even know he could do。
He threw his voice； so it sounded as if the puppet were speaking without Owen's lips moving。
When it was found out what he had done； he was punished； but even Mrs。 M mented to Owen's mother about her son's delightful talent。
But forget that for now； forget it。 Years passed； punishment was the result of knowledge。 Smart people punished themselves； his older self knew。 All people with brains received punishment。
He knew better than to reveal secrets。
He waited for her； watching the Sound for the ferry on the Thursday before Memorial Day weekend。
3
His eyes turned to slits against the western sun； it was the last ferry of the day； and he couldn't find her or her parents among those on the deck。
Perhaps she wouldn't be ing until after the holiday … it had happened before； but several years back。 He didn't want to believe it because he never liked to consider the options that people had。 His own life felt without option。
He had created within himself the person who could most handle his life。 He had worked his body； developed the grace of an athlete； he had tried to keep his face pleasant … and when the anxieties of his family or of studies became unbearable； he would go to the mirror and practice relaxing his facial features until he was sure he looked pleasant again。 He did not want to seem anxious； even if he was。 He wanted to give nothing away to those around him。
He ran down to the docks to see if she might be somewhere else on the ferry … perhaps she was sick and wanted to stay below。 Perhaps she was taking a nap in the back seat of her family's Range Rover。 Perhaps perhaps； he repeated to himself as he sloughed off inertia； and jogged down to the paved road near the marina。
The summer people were like ticks … they attached themselves to every aspect of the Haven； they drank all the beer； they ate the best the local cooks had to offer； they had all the accidents … more people would die from boating or swimming mishaps in three months than would die in six years in the other seasons of the island。
They were careless； they were bloodsucking； they were here to forget the venal world from which they came。
They； he thought。
They。
They poured from the ferry； bicyclists； clownish men and women in golfing outfits； or overly gilded women with poodles and wolfhounds and Shih Tzus； followed by weary overworked doctor…husbands； the college crowd； too； had begun filling up the local bars and the beach； and all these he hated with a passion。 He had spent his life watching them e and be carefree in the summer。 He had watched them spend more money some nights than his father could make in a month。
Dagon； he prayed； Dagon； hear me。 Cast them down。 Raise me up。
He ached for what they had。 The lives they had。 The freedom from this island。 From the world he had mastered。
He read books on Manhattan； he learned about Jenna's family； how her great…great…grandfather had worked on railroads and then had gone on to own them； and how her great…grandfather had lost that fortune； how her grandfather had gotten into radio and television and magazines； owning several； selling them； building up a small but substantial media empire； how her mother had continued that work； married a great media magnate； divorced； married again； had Jenna and remained with Mr。 M although the marriage ran hot and cold。
The story of Jenna's family was the story of all the summer people； and though they lived simply on the island for the three months； though they rode cheap bikes around the Great Salt Pond； though they dressed casually even for the one restaurant in Old Town Harbor （the Salty Dog）； they were all overmoneyed as his father often said。
His father spoke of money as evil； his mother spoke of it like a lost child。
Owen felt it was something like fire … to be feared and mastered。 It was what other people were given。
It's what he would be granted。
And these people tromping off the ferry had it。 They lived it。 They did not dream of getting off this island。 They dreamed of things beyond what Owen could imagine。
4
She never arrived； and he walked the long narrow wooden staircase from the beach up to the bluffs； and then he ran along the fringe of pines to the dirt path that went further up the rolling cliffs； and he didn't look back down to the water until he was at their property。
At the house； he went and sat in one of the wrought…iron lawn chairs and leaned back to gaze up at the sky。
〃Owen？〃
He sat up； looking around。 He rose from the chair； practically knocking it over； and there she was … at the third story attic window。
No； it was Mrs。 M。 Her auburn hair was swept back from her face； damp from the swimming pool； her robe fastened none too tight。 She possessed the air of ha