The Gin and Chowder Club

They ate eggs and peach cobbler at the table in the corner of the porch with only the Christmas lights and a candle for light. A warm summer breeze drifted in off the ocean, but the oppressive humidity of the last few days was gone. They talked easily about other things, both clinging to the magic of what they had found, neither ready to face the tragic reality of what they had lost.

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After the kitchen was cleaned up, Asa called home and told Sarah that his truck was stuck in a sand dune near Race Point. Sarah said she would come right out and pick him up, but he convinced her that he would be fine; he would just sleep in the truck and have it pulled out in the morning. After some back-and-forth, she reluctantly agreed. Asa hung up with a sad, sinking feeling. He had never lied to his mother before.

Noelle looked up from Asa’s notebook when he stepped out onto the porch. “These are wonderful,” she exclaimed.

Asa sat down next to her and looked to see which one she was reading. He didn’t say anything.

She noticed the serious look on his face. “Should you get going?”

“No, I told her the truck was stuck.”

“Oh.” She paused. “I wish you hadn’t…”

“Well… it’s done.”

They sat quietly together, yet, at the same time distantly apart, each realizing that eventually-somehow-they would both have to look into the eyes of loved ones… alone.

After a while, Noelle turned back to the notebook, and Asa watched her read. “These really are amazing,” she said. Finally, she closed the book and looked at him in wonder. “You are a very talented poet!” She smiled and added, “And someday I’ll be able to say ‘I knew you when!’”

Asa laughed and teased, “You could also say you knew me when… in more ways than one.”

Noelle slipped her leg over Asa’s lap, and he put his hands on her hips and pulled her onto him. She studied his no-longer-innocent eyes and whispered, “Yes, I could even say I knew you intimately…”

“Mmmm,” he replied, “perhaps you’d like to know me intimately again, just to be sure…”

“Mmmm, I probably should-you know, just to be sure.”

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Asa stood by the window. The moon illuminated the tide’s incessant attempts to cling to the shore, only to be repeatedly forced to relinquish its grasp. Every so often, he saw a faint beam of light passing across the waves. He turned from the window and watched Noelle as she slept. He was still amazed that this woman had told him she loved him, had lain beside him, had made love to him. He slipped back between the sheets beside her, and somewhere, in the recesses of consciousness, realized with profound sadness that this night could never be lived again.

Noelle turned to him in her sleep and reached for his hand. Asa slipped his hand into hers and, closing his eyes, longed for time to slow down. All he ever wanted now was to taste, smell, touch, fully absorb every new sense again, sadly realizing that each incredible moment, once lived, would instantly become just a memory.

As all these thoughts swirled in Asa’s mind, he had no way of knowing how often the memory of this night would haunt him-how often in the years to come he would ache with the intense longing to live it again.

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Sarah decided that she must have misunderstood. She had already walked along the water’s edge for at least an hour, carrying a plate of supper that had grown cold. She tried to remember exactly what he had said until, reluctantly, she finally turned back. Returning home, she didn’t sleep well, frequently waking with a start and picturing Asa alone trying to sleep in an uncomfortable truck. She woke early, made coffee, and was already sitting on the back porch with her Bible when the sun peeked over the horizon. She watched it creep upward into the dawn sky. It was only moments before the bright orange streak became a fully visible sphere. No other time during the day, she thought, was the rotation of Earth and the passage of time more evident. She turned to her Bible and tried to read. She hated it when she couldn’t concentrate. She set the book aside and closed her eyes. Forgive me, she thought. I’m just worried about Asa. He seems so different lately. I wish I knew what was bothering him. I wish I knew where he was last night. She sat there for a long time until she finally heard the familiar sound of Asa’s old truck laboring on the grade. Thank you, she whispered.

Asa trudged up the stairs and was startled to see Sarah sitting on the porch. He didn’t know why he was surprised-it was her spot first thing in the morning. He just wasn’t prepared to try to be himself so suddenly. He needed time to figure things out. Who was he now? His mind raced. A liar? A traitor? Someone who could betray his parents… and their dearest friend?

Just moments ago, he had kissed Noelle and held her, never wanting to let go. When he finally did, he felt as if part of him were tearing away, his soul grieving for the time already past. The memory of the last twelve hours continued to burn through him, including the last hour when Noelle quietly told him that Nate would return that afternoon and stay for the last week of summer. Intense flames of jealousy had seared through his entire being, consuming him with a fury of emotions.

In facing Sarah, however, Asa was forced to stand straight, deny this inner turmoil, and act as if nothing at all had happened to him. Tears burned at the edges of his eyes as he forced a smile.

“Hi,” Sarah began. “How’d you sleep?”

“Okay,” Asa said, scratching Martha’s head. “That old truck is far from comfortable.”

“Tell me again where you were stuck?”

Asa vaguely repeated the area of the beach near Race Point, and Sarah nodded thoughtfully. She realized with certainty that she hadn’t misunderstood.

“Who pulled you out?”

Asa’s mind raced. He had never lied to Sarah before, and now it was just one lie after another. Who could he say that his mother would not know? “N-nobody,” he stuttered. “I finally got it out using some driftwood.” That sounds so lame, he thought.

Sarah just nodded. “Well, I’m glad you’re home, safe and sound. You must be hungry.”

Asa wasn’t hungry at all, but he seized the opportunity to head inside and escape more questions-questions that could only be answered with more lies. He went into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. He had grown to like the taste, now with a little cream. He opened the refrigerator and immediately saw a covered plate of food. His stomach tightened. Was that just left over from last night, or had Mom brought it up to the beach for me? Asa leaned back against the counter and shut his eyes. He thought again of the night before and convinced himself that it was just his guilty conscience. Anyway, he didn’t care. He didn’t care if it was wrong. He didn’t care if he burned in hell; the devil could have him-as long as he could have this woman who had said she loved him…

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