hundred yards north of Sea Cliff was Garvie's Point, where Susan and I had made love on the beach.
The sun had sunk below the high bluffs of Sands Point, and I could see stars beginning to appear in the eastern sky. I watched as they blinked on, east to west behind the spreading purple.
None of us spoke, we just broke out some beer and drank, watching the greatest show on earth, a nautical sunset: the rose-hued clouds, the starry black fringe on the far horizon, the rising moon, and the gulls gliding over the darkening waters.
You have to pay close attention to a nautical sunset or you will miss the subtleties of what is happening. So we sat quietly for a long time, me, Susan, Carolyn, and Edward, until finally, by silent consensus, we agreed it was night. Susan said, 'Cari, let's make some tea.' They went below. I climbed onto the cabin deck and steadied myself against the mast. Edward followed. We both stared out into the black waters. I said to him, 'Are you looking forward to college?'
'No.'
'They will be the best years of your life.'
'That's what everyone keeps telling me.'
'Everyone is right.'
He shrugged. Presently, he asked, 'What kind of tax problems?'
'I just owe some taxes.'
'Oh… and you have to sell the house?'
'I think so.'
'Can you wait?'
I smiled. 'For what? Until you use it in August?'
'No… until I'm twenty-one. I can give you the money in my trust fund when I'm twenty-one.'
I didn't reply, because I couldn't speak.
He said, 'I don't need all of it.'
I cleared my throat. 'Well, Grandma and Grandpa Stanhope meant that money to be for you.' And they'd have apoplexy if you gave it to me. 'It's gonna be my money. I want to give it to you if you need it.'
'I'll let you know.'
'Okay.'
We listened to the waves breaking against the distant shore. I looked out to the east. Farther north of Garvie's Point, about five hundred yards from where we lay at anchor, I could see the lights of the big white colonial house on the small headland. I pointed to it. 'Do you see that big house there?' 'Yes.'
'There was a long pier there once, beginning between those two tall cedars. See them?'
'Yes.'
'Imagine where the pier ended. Do you see anything there?' He looked in the black water, then said, 'No.'
'Look harder, Skipper. Squint. Concentrate.'
He stared, then said, 'Maybe… something…'
'What?'
'I don't know. When I stare, I think I can see… what do you call that stuff…?
That algae stuff that grows in the water and glows kind of spooky green?
Bioluminescence…? Yeah. I see it.'
'Do you? Good.'
'What about it?'
'That's your green light, Skipper. I think it means go.'
'Go where?'
I'm not good at the father-son talk, but I wanted to tell him, so somewhat self-consciously I replied, 'Go wherever you want. Be whatever you want to be. For me, that green light is the past, for you it is the future.' I took his hand in mine. 'Don't lose sight of it.'
CHAPTER 21
In retrospect, I should have tried the Atlantic crossing with my family and never returned to America; a sort of decolonization of the Sutters and the Stanhopes. We could have sailed into Plymouth, burned the Paumanok, set up a fish-and-chips stand on the beach, and lived happily ever after. But Americans don't emigrate, at least not very many of us do, and the few who do don't do it well. We have created our own land and culture, and we simply don't fit anywhere else, not even in the lands of our ancestors, who can barely tolerate us on two-week holidays. In truth, while I admire Europe, I find the Europeans a bit tiresome, especially when they complain about Americans. So we didn't cross the Atlantic, and we didn't emigrate, but we had a spectacular weekend of sailing with sunny weather and good winds. We had stayed at anchor in Hempstead Harbor Friday evening, and at daybreak we set sail for Cape Cod, putting in at Provincetown for a few hours of sightseeing and shopping. Actually, after about an hour in town, Susan told Carolyn and Edward that she and I had to go back to the boat to get my wallet. Carolyn and Edward sort of grinned knowingly. I was a little embarrassed. Susan told them to meet us in front of the old Provincetown Hotel in three hours. 'Three hours?' asked Edward, still smiling.
I mean, it's good for children to know that their parents have an active sex life, but you don't want to give them the impression that you can't go without it for a day or two. However, Susan was very cool about it and said to Edward, 'Yes, three hours. Don't be late.'
I took out my wallet and gave them each some money, realizing as I did so that I had created a slight inconsistency in the wallet story. But good kids that they are, they pretended not to see the wallet in my hands.
Anyway, on the way back to the dock, I said to Susan, 'That took me by surprise.'
'Oh, you handled it quite well, John, until you pulled out your wallet.' She laughed.
'Well, they knew anyway.' I said, 'Remember when we used to tuck them into their berths at night, then go out on top of the cabin and do it?' 'I remember you used to tell them that if they heard noises on the roof, it was only Mommy and Daddy doing their sit-ups.'
'Push-ups.'
We both laughed.
So, we took the Paumanok out again and sailed past the three-mile limit where sexual perversions are legal. We found a spot where no other craft were nearby, and I said to Susan, 'What did you have in mind?'
What she had in mind was going below, then reappearing on the aft deck stark naked. We were still under sail, and I was at the helm, and she stood in front of me and said, 'Captain, First Mate Cynthia reporting for punishment as ordered.'
My goodness. I looked at her standing at attention, those cat-like green eyes sparkling in the sunlight, the breeze blowing through her long red hair. I love this woman's body, the taut legs and arms, the fair skin, and the big red bush of pubic hair.
'Reporting for punishment as ordered,' she prompted.
'Right. Right.' I thought a moment. 'Scrub the deck.'
'Yes, sir.'
She went below and came back with a bucket and scrub brush, then leaned over the side and scooped up a bucket of salt water. She got down on her hands and knees and began scrubbing the deck around my feet.
'Don't get any of that on me,' I said, 'or you'll get a dozen lashes across your rump.'
'Yes, sir… oops.' She tipped the bucket over, and the salt water soaked my Docksides. I think she did that on purpose.
She rose to her knees and threw her arms around my legs. 'Oh, Captain, please forgive me! Please don't whip me.' She buried her head in my groin. You know, for a woman who's a bitch in real life, a real ball-buster if you'll pardon the expression, Susan has a rather strange alter ego. I mean, her favourite and most recurring roles are those of subservient and defenceless women. Someday, I'm going to ask a shrink friend of mine about this, though of course I'll change the names to protect the kinky.
Anyway, I made Susan lower the sails and drop anchor so we could stop for a little punishment. I tied her
