If she didn’t know this bathroom as well as her own, she would have had to spend a few minutes to complete the process, the darkness only broken by the single beam of a flashlight she’d placed on the floor of the bathroom. The bold bright light filled one corner of the small room, but did little to illuminate the sink. She could have brought one of the smaller gas lamps, but it made her nervous to walk with one when she was this tired, one stumbling step spelling disaster. Her own house down the boardwalk was filled with battery-operated lamps, nightlights, and flashlights, but Pam was a traditionalist and used only gaslight for the most part. She grabbed the handle of the sink’s hand-pump and filled the sink with rainwater with a few strong pumps. Then she plucked up one of the shell-shaped jojoba oil soaps Pam always kept piled high in a huge abalone shell by the sink, dunked her hands in the cool water and started scrubbing. It was good that the day had been a warm one or her hands would be frozen through already.
