Tova Sullivan Character Analysis

How shall you refer to me, you ask? Well, that is up to you. Perhaps you will default to calling me that guy, like the rest of them. I hope not, but I will not hold it against you. You are only human, after all.

These women have always worn motherhood big and loud on their chests, but Tova keeps hers inside, sunk deep in her guts like an old bullet. Private.

Evidence was thin, but it all pointed to the boy taking his own life, the sheriff said.

The neighbors said.

The newspapers said.

Everyone said.

Watching Tova go into the night always prickles his nerves. According to his police scanner, there are always lunatics on the roads at night. Why must she do her shopping so late?

Why can humans not use their millions of words to simply tell one another what they desire?

The sea, too, is very good at keeping secrets.

One in particular, from the bottom of the sea, I carry with me still.

Even after Erik was gone, Will would do the same thing every time there was a game on: sit on his same cushion while Erik’s sat empty. Loafing as usual, as if nothing had changed. It always irritated Tova.

Keeping busy was much healthier.

Will they find her on the kitchen floor? Summon an ambulance to take her to the hospital? Who will fill out the admit forms, clipped to their clipboard? And that will merely be the beginning.

Unless.

That packet she picked up at Charter Village.

Perhaps it’s time to fill out the application.

The agent hikes her glasses up again. Why doesn’t she adjust them to fit? It’s an easy fix with a micro screwdriver.

[...]

Resisting the urge to run his finger along the “No Bull” frog’s rounded back, which is covered in a layer of dust, Cameron nods again.

“Tova, love. That place! It’s . . . not you.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Ethan sniffs. “What I mean is, it’s not good enough for you.”

“Charter Village is one of the finest facilities in the state.”

“But Sowell Bay is your home.”

“Conscience does make cowards of us all.” He feels himself start to redden. How does he always manage to drop this nerdy shit into conversation? He starts to explain, “It’s just some dumb Shakespeare quote. It’s from—”

“Hamlet,” she says softly. “It was one of my son’s favorites.”

So Will had been right.

There was a girl.

If they do not figure it out soon, everyone involved will be left with a . . . hole.

As a general rule, I like holes. A hole at the top of my tank gives me freedom.

But I do not like the hole in her heart. She only has one, not three, like me.

Tova’s heart.

I will do everything I can to help her fill it.

He’s hardly said two words to Ethan since their argument. All that garbage Ethan’s apparently been spreading around town . . . it doesn’t even make sense. Something about a bad check. From a thousand years ago. Like Cameron needs any reminding that his mother was a loser.

“Tova, pardon my language, but would you cut the shit for once and tell me exactly why you think you have to do this?”

Ah, so that’s what this is about. “I beg your pardon?”

“This!” Janice waves her hands around [...]. “Selling your house! Moving out of Sowell Bay! You’ve lived here all your life.”

“Enough of that,” she says aloud. Enough of allowing one single summer night in 1989 to shape every last aspect of her life. Enough searching for answers that no longer exist. Enough of living with these ghosts, in this house. Charter Village will be a new start.

I paid for my mistake three times.

First, I paid with my pride.

Second, with one of my arms. The arm started to grow back the next day, but by then, it was too late.

Third, with my freedom. Had my own poor judgment not brought about such injuries, perhaps I would have evaded my so-called rescue.

“We must say goodbye, friend. But I’m glad Terry saved you, because you saved me.”

An accident. It could have happened that way, or any number of ways. Captain of the crew team, an accomplished sailor, but there was that stolen beer. There was a girl.

“Where are you going, then?”

An unfettered laugh escapes from deep in Tova’s chest. “You know what? I don’t know. To Barbara’s. Or Janice’s. For a while. Until I figure out what comes next.”

“Good plan,” says Cameron. “I mean, that’s coming from a guy living in a camper.” He grins, and the heart-shaped dimple on his cheek indents, and for a moment he looks every part the impish grandson.

Humans. For the most part, you are dull and blundering. But occasionally, you can be remarkably bright creatures.