The Syndrome

And then it was time to light the candles and send Nikki on her way. Lew worked the radio controls and the boat moved sharply out of the cove. A breeze caught its sails and it began to heel over until he corrected the bearing to “a broad reach.” She’d been a little worried that the weight of the candles and the ashes would make the boat difficult to maneuver, but it didn’t seem to be affected by them. The votive lights winked and flickered, illuminating the white sails in a beautiful way as the boat moved out toward the center of the river. When it reached the cha

el, Lew maneuvered the sails so that it began to run before the wind. The tide was going out, the wind southerly—they’d checked beforehand.

“Bon voyage,” Adrie

e whispered, her hand raised in farewell.

Lew dropped the electronic control box into the carrying case, then put his arm around Adrie

e. It was all up to the wind now, and to the water. The craft was moving nicely and within a few minutes, they could not see the hull or the candles at all, only the occasional, ghostly white of the sail as the craft rose up on a swell, only to fall back again. Lew put his arm around Adrie

e’s shoulder, and they stood together like that, in the freezing darkness at the edge of the shore, watching the sail wink out to sea on the black water.

And then, even that was gone.