I wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't pointed it out. The Peregrine seemed to me like any other fishing boat, painted white and
battered by the ocean and its sun, salt and storms. We walked down the dock and
boarded, and I found the deck and small enclosed cabin to be clean and
well-maintained, although a bit dingy with wear.
"I know it's not much to look at," Cade said,
"But I'm close to having her paid off and then I can look at growing my
business a little."
"You mean more boats?"
He shrugged. "Maybe. I have a few options I'm
considering. Haven't decided which way I intend to jump, though. Things could
change, and I like to stay flexible."
For the next few minutes he showed me around, explaining the
different screens and electronic equipment used for finding and tracking
schools of fish.
"I thought only governments had these. I had no idea an
ordinary guy could have his own sonar," I said.
"And echosounders." He grinned. "It's pretty
standard in the industry, but if you haven't seen one before, it can seem kind
of special."
"I suppose it's better than having to guess where the
fish are. Or go to a lot of trouble to catch them only to find out they're not
the right kind."
"Fishing has come a long way," Cade admitted.
"There's a lot of science involved now. You still need to have an instinct
for it, though. And you need to not mind being cold, wet and in danger. Lots of
strange people in this business, too. No real vetting process. You could end up
on a boat with just about anyone, and once you're out at sea, not much you can
do about it. You learn a lot of tolerance out on the water."
"I would imagine so," I said. "There are a
lot of strange people in my life too, but at least I don't have to live with
them."
"It's an acquired skill," he assured me. "But
there's no point acquiring it if you don't have to. Save your energy for more
interesting things."
He showed me around the rest of his boat, including a small
kitchen, cramped bunks that were rarely used for more than brief naps, and a
vast hold where the catch had to be stored at just the right temperature and
precise weight distribution so as not to tip the boat.
"If your cargo isn't balanced right, a storm or a rogue
wave can tip you over just like that. and in the cold waters around here, you've
got twenty minutes to live under optimal conditions. Most guys that happens to aren't
so lucky."
Over the next half hour Cade told me more about fishing
than I ever thought I'd want to know, but in his frank, unpolished way he made it seem, if not
exactly fascinating, at least not dull. By the time he took a couple beers out
of a fridge, I was feeling at home on the Peregrine and was content to sit with
him near one of the windows and look out over the metallic gray water.
By now the sun was little more than a pale glow on the horizon.
Sunsets aren't much to look at in Cold Harbor
and I found myself longing for the vivid reds and golds of home instead of
anemic silver. "Are the sunsets pretty in Maine?" I asked.
"Not as pretty as the sunrise, since the sun sets over
land, not water." As if reading my mind, he added, "I miss home
sometimes."
I didn't trust myself to answer, and only nodded.
"Maybe you'll let me show it to you someday."
I sat back, startled. "Maine?"
"Or just a pretty sunrise." He looked away,
abashed. "Sorry if that was a little awkward. I don't spend much time
around women. I'm out of the habit of knowing what's the right thing to
say."
In that moment he looked so vulnerable that I forgot my
worries, set my beer aside and scooted closer. "Offering to show me a
pretty sunrise is just fine. I'm a little out of the habit of good manners
myself."
He drew me into his arms and it felt like the most natural
thing in the world to settle into the hollow of his body, warm and safe,
watching the light fade from the sky while the boat gently bobbed with the
waves. I wasn't prepared when he brushed his lips over my hair and then found
the bare spot on my neck where my hair had fallen forward. The sensation was
warm and electric. I froze for a moment, then felt his lips on my neck again,
and a long-forgotten fire coursed through me. I turned and kissed him, my body
and mind burning with a desire I had thought myself too jaded to feel any more.
Cade pulled me to him, as hungry as I was, but then unbidden, Father Cash's warning
repeated itself in my mind and brought me back to reality.
"I'm sorry." I pulled away and stood up, dizzy and
weak in the knees. "I need to leave."
Cade reached for my hand. "I didn't mean for that to
happen. Really. Please sit back down."
I shook my head. There was no way I could explain, so I gave
the most classically lame excuse anyone has ever made for walking away.
"It's not you, it's me." I grabbed my coat and
headed out the door, but he followed me onto the deck.
"Let me at least walk you home, Judith."
"I'll be fine," I shouted, then I jumped onto the
dock and started running. I ran through the docks, across the street, and into
the warren of lanes and alleys full of fishing shops, chowder houses and pubs.
Although I didn't hear any footsteps behind me, I kept going until I reached a
familiar area. Brook Street
and Gaslight Avenue
weren't exactly the best part of town, but here I was on my own turf, and I
slowed to a walk, trying to catch my breath.
What an idiot I had been. I had thought myself immune to men
after going to bed with so many, but I was only fooling myself. From the moment
I laid eyes on Cade at the dock, I had wanted him, and no amount of survival
sex could change that.
But I wasn't the kind of girl Cade deserved.
Father Cash was right about that. He was better off without me, and even
friendship was a bad idea, since how could I just be friends when I wanted so
much more?
As I walked the dingy streets toward home, my treacherous
mind spun fantasies of what things could be like if only I were an ordinary
waitress or bookkeeper, or better yet, if we had met before I had made so many
costly mistakes with my life. Cade and I could travel the sea on his boat, or
maybe get a little cottage together on the coast of Maine. We could be lighthouse keepers, supplementing our income
with the revenue from a fleet of fishing boats. On sunny afternoons, I would
sit outside and paint, and at night me and Cade—
"Hey, Judith. Been trying to reach you for the last
hour. How come you're not answering your phone?"
I squinted at the darkness, scrambling to bring my mind back
to reality as Arlo stepped out of the shadows.
"I got a job for you, if you want it. If not..."
he shrugged.
So much for cottages in Maine. "Yeah, I want it," I said.
The rent would soon be due and no amount of fantasizing was going
to change my empty wallet. "Whatever you've got, I'm game."
poor Judith I think the good father was not so good to say that to her
ReplyDeleteI think she undervalues herself. I totally understand why, but I'm hoping her little "secret" comes out to Cade, and he proves her wrong about what he can and can't accept.
ReplyDeleteEveryone deserves love, even whores.
I am amazed she is taking notice of Father Cash who is a manipulative cheat himself. My guess is that Cade would have a good idea that she is not squeaky clean but still worth pursuing. However now she is back she should still pay the rent!
ReplyDeleteHow our minds can be conditioned so easily...it's hard to know what is sunrise and sunset...good or bad...I have hope for Judith...in every doubt perhaps there is an opportunity to sail away - a mentor may help...but maybe she will do better building her own boat as it were - i loved the sentence 'painted white and battered by the ocean and its sun, salt and storms' - very poetic..and could apply to both Judith and Cade perhaps..
ReplyDelete