Ikept my end of the promise and we married at Easter, just before he set sail, tailingmy father’s ship. By midsummer, I could tell him he was going to have a son ordaughter, come the following Easter. He couldn’t have been more happy than ifsomeone told him his nets would never again come up empty.”
Mahesitated. Lavinny took the opportunity to ask the question that lurked on thetip of her tongue. “But what happened? How did he end up on the rocks?”
Ma’sface gathered as if she might cry, but she did not. “Before the night hevanished, when he set out two days before, I had told him to take care outthere, that the skies looked raw. He promised me he’d be home with his last andbiggest catch of the season and that I shouldn’t worry, in my condition. Callit a premonition, but it came as no shock to me, when your grandfather and Malonecame home without no trace of your father but a broken oar and the shards ofwood from his boat, including the name plate.
Ifainted, and your grandfather ran for John Sterne, the new doctor in town, tocome tend me. In the days after that, he came around often to see that I andyou were well. Even after you were born, he kept coming around, and hiskindness lingered with me so much that when he asked me if he could be a fatherto you, I told him I was about to ask him the same question.
“Inthe spring, he was at my side when you came into this world. He might not havegiven me to you, but he was there from the moment you saw daylight.”
Lavinnytook a half a step back from Ma. “But why didn’t anyone tell me about thissooner? Why did you keep this from me?”
Magave her a worried look, but her eyes softened like she understood. “Therewasn’t any ill will, if that’s what has you cross. I had hoped the past couldlive in the past and stay there, and we all could go forward as a family. Andfor the greater portion, we have. But sometimes the past doesn’t stay there.Sometimes it calls out to you and creates echoes. Maybe that’s how ghostshappen, because the past has something to tell you.”
Lavinnyleaned closer to Ma. “Maybe it wasn’t just my decisions that took me to thesea, maybe he was calling to me to assure me that I’d chosen the right course.”
Mareached up to smooth back Lavinny’s hair, as she’d done so many times over theyears. “I always said you had sea water in your blood.”
“Andnow I know I have it from both streams,” she said.
* * *
Atthe end of the following March, when the worst winter storm had passed and thewaves had lost their wintry fury, with Father soon to return home fromVirginia, Lavinny rowed her dory out from the Sunny Green as it rodeFrenchman’s Bay on the first day of the season. As the dory passed FinchIsland, and when she thought Teague couldn’t see, she raised her oars andreached inside her oilskin, taking out a handkerchief wound around a bundle ofsnowdrops and fir twigs she had gathered from the woods behind her family’shome. With a word to the heavens to look kindly on her father’s shade and aword to the depths that his bones would lie in peace, she cast the nosegay ontothe water. It sank, then bobbed back to the surface, riding the ripples.
Teaguecaught her movement and raising his oars for a moment bowed his head, slow andrespectful.
Lookingaway from the posy floating on the water, Lavinny leaned into the oars. “Comeon, Teague, let’s see if the first halibut of the season are running.”
Asthey pulled away, she thought she heard a second set of oars creaking inanother pair of oarlocks, but when she glanced about, she saw no other boatsbesides the rest of her crew, too far away to sound that close.
Triumph of the Spirit
GDDearborn
1.
She stands in the doorway, my angel ofdeath.
Iam laying on my death bed. My angel is weeping.
Myangel… my daughter.
“Daddy? I’m here.”
Withgreat effort, I move my chest. In. Out. In.
Geta good lungful.
Ow!It hurts to breathe.
Isummon her with a wave. She comes close. The mask, positive pressure, O2. Iclaw it off. Her face ignites in shock.
“No, Daddy! You need to breathe!”
“Hush! I need… to say something to you.Can’t… with mask on. Don’t…”
Fastbeeping. O2 sat 85. Here comes the nurse.
“Doctor, you need to keep that mask on!”
Itry to remove it, but practiced hands force the mask back on my face. Shecinches the straps tighter than before. Involuntarily, I gasp in more oxygen.Just breathing is excruciating.
“Doctor, are you in pain?”
Myhead feebly nods before I can stop it.
Ican’t have morphine now, it will arrest my breathing. I think my diaphragm hastorn.
“Okay, I have standing orders from Dr.Hayata. This will take the pain away.”
No!Stupid bitch! Quack bastard! You need to image me,stat!
Thedrug works rapidly. I am wrapped in a cocoon of black cotton. The room goesdark.
Thelast thing I ever see is my precious angel sobbing, sobbing because her heartis breaking, because she knows that this is the end.
#
Iam swaddled in darkness.
Ihear muffled voices. My angel is screaming. The nurse is shouting.
“Code Blue!”
Rapidbeeping. An alarm screeches.
“Start chest compressions!”
Andthen the voices stop.
2.
AmI dead? I can still remember…
Iremember the car. I loved that car. Triumph Spitfire‘77 convertible, British Racing Green. I bought it on a whim on eBay with someof the net profit after I sold the big house and bought the condo in Florida;after Gracie left me, after she died.
Myangel came down to visit after the auction. Shegrieved her mother, of course, but it was okay. They hadn’t seen eye to eye onanything in years. She was Daddy’s girl. She wanted me to stay in the GraniteState, said I would miss the snow. Well, fuck that Yankee bullshit. Florida is pleasantly warm when it should be, and thecondo has AC and a pool for the rest of the year.
