1929 (74 page)

Just before dusk, Aryl made the suggestion
while leaning against the porch rail.

“Jon, why don’t you go and pick them up? Me
and Caleb can handle it tomorrow.” All of the neighbors had gone
home, full and tired. Caleb had put away the last of the extra
tables and chairs in the barn while Arianna settled the babies
upstairs. Ava and Jonathan sat on the porch swing and watched Jean
run around the yard with a mason jar trying to catch crickets.

“Sure,” Jonathan agreed. “I hate to miss
another day, though. We’re already so far behind.”

“Well, one of us would miss a day regardless,
and the next day Patrick will be with us, so we’ll make up for any
lost time.” Aryl lifted up his arm as Claire ducked under it and
wrapped both arms around his waist.

“True. Okay, I’ll go get them and bring them
here. Let’s all meet up in the evening. There’s got to be enough
leftovers for another dinner.”

“Several dinners,” Claire said. She had just
finished helping Ethel put away the food for the night.

Ava’s head jerked as Jean’s bloodcurdling
scream crossed the yard. She jumped from the swing and ran down the
stairs, but was unable to see what was wrong in the dim light of
the remaining sunset.

Jonathan was behind her, but she already had
Jean scooped up in her arms by the time he caught up with her.

“Bee sting,” she informed with a pout. She
carried him into the house as he shook his hand and cried on her
shoulder. Claire followed her and helped as Ava pulled the still
pulsing stinger out, packed the throbbing finger with a baking soda
paste and wrapped it up in a piece of cloth. His tears had slowed
to a whimper by the time she carried him back out to the porch
where Jonathan and Aryl abruptly ended a private conversation.

“All better,” she said, putting him down in
front of Jonathan.

Claire resumed her place nestled against Aryl
and yawned.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” he said
quietly. “You’ve got to be exhausted.”

“In a few minutes,” she sighed.

Arianna’s figure cast a shadow on the porch
as she closed the screen door behind her softly. She smiled and
waved as Caleb emerged from the dark yard into the light. “They’re
finally asleep,” her whisper heard just over the crickets and light
winds rustling through the trees. Caleb stood next to her and she
kicked off her shoes to stand equal height to him.

“We should all get together more often. We
don’t do that enough anymore,” he said, taking Arianna’s hand and
looking at his friends.

“We should,” Aryl agreed. Jean climbed up
onto Jonathan’s lap and whispered in his ear. Jonathan smiled and
gave a little laugh.

“Yes, Jean, they'll like you.” He rubbed his
head. “Don’t worry about that.” Jonathan whispered in Jean’s ear
and his cheeks swelled with a large smile. “Go ahead,” Jonathan
whispered. “Ask her.”

Jean looked hesitant as he stared at Ava for
a moment. Finally, his voice barely audible, he asked his
question.

“Do you like me . . . now?” Her eyes remained
fixed on his. It was then that she realized, all the pain she had
caused him with her rejection. The last slivers of ice in her heart
melted, she held out her arms to him and he eagerly climbed into
her lap.

“Yes, I like you, Jean,” she said, hugging
him tightly, the porch swing swaying lightly. The others looked on
with appreciation for how difficult the last few months had been
for them and in awe at how far Ava had come. In respect for the
private moment, Aryl motioned with his eyes to Claire that they
should leave.

As they walked down the squeaky steps,
Jonathan called to him, just before they stepped beyond the soft
glow of the front light.

“Aryl, you were right.” He looked back to see
Jonathan with Ava close at his side, holding Jean with her head
resting down on his as they gently swayed. He narrowed his eyes in
concentration and then followed Jonathan’s quick glance at Ava. He
smiled then, eyes full of conviction.

“Oh, yeah. Miracles happen,” he said. He
walked with Claire into the darkness of the yard, holding up one
hand as he left.

June 25th 1930

Dawn came too soon for Caleb and Aryl, who
boarded their boats with yawns and stretches. Caleb cursed under
his breath as his boat’s engine chugged and sputtered but refused
to start.

“Hey, don’t go yet,” he yelled to Aryl. “I
can’t get her started. I might have to go with you.” Aryl nodded as
his boat engine idled roughly, but just as Caleb climbed on board,
it cut out with a popping sound followed by a puff of black
smoke.

“Great.” Caleb held up the frayed ends of
melted wires. “You’re not going anywhere either.” Aryl dropped his
head, tired shoulders slumped, in worry of how they would be able
to afford the unexpected repairs.

“C’mon, let’s take the Ava-Maura. Jon won’t
mind,” Caleb decided. “We need to make some money today.” Aryl
shrugged, yawned, and nearly tripped over a pot.

The sun had risen by the time they were
underway, the Ava-Maura chugging reliably out into the open
ocean.

The eastern sky was brilliant with a red
sunrise.

∞∞∞

Ava and Arianna waited with excitement at the
farmhouse as Jonathan took the Runabout to the train station. Ava
took Caleb’s place in changing, walking, and rocking one baby while
Arianna nursed the other.

“Claire didn’t want to come?” Arianna asked,
disappointed.

“We stopped by to pick her up, but she wasn’t
feeling well. She’ll be by this afternoon with Aryl after the
sickness passes.” Ava propped Samuel on her shoulder, patting his
back.

“I never thought I’d be glad to see anything
from that time in our lives.” Arianna rocked slowly with Savrene,
who was covered by the shoulder blanket. “But I’ll be so glad to
see Shannon.”

“Me, too,” Ava said, distracted by Maura’s
letter. She was excited to see Shannon, though, truth be told, if
she had her choice of brash and loving Irish friends, it was Maura
she would rather see and live close to.

She also knew that this was the end of the
trio. The three women had been together through this entire ordeal,
complementing each other’s contrasting personalities in good times
and bad. It never occurred to Ava that this would ever change. She
had been sure, more in the throes of poverty than ever in the
spoils of luxury, that it would always be just the three of them.
But now there would be four. She wondered where Shannon would fit
in and worried about who might be pushed out.

∞∞∞

“Patrick!” Jonathan stood on a bench,
searching the crowded platform. He spotted Aislin sitting on
Patrick’s shoulders and waved. “Patrick!”

He looked around, focused on Jonathan, and
lit up with a relieved smile. Jonathan hopped off the bench and
waited for them to cut through the throng of travelers.

“Jon! Good to see you again!” A hearty
handshake and back slaps were as close to an embrace as the two
felt comfortable giving in public.

“You look good, Jon,” Shannon said, grinning
and reached to hug him. Patrick looked him over and then centered
on his face. “Somethin’s different.” He pondered while Jonathan
shrugged. “But fer the good, Jon, fer the good. Ye look
better.”

“Come on, I’ll help you get your luggage,” he
said, taking the attention off himself. “I brought Caleb’s father’s
. . . well, I guess it’s Caleb’s truck now. The telegram said you
had three?”

“Two. Pared down last minute. We couldn’t pay
the extra fare for the third.” They located the well-traveled
trunks, and the men each took an end to heave them onto the bed of
the truck.

“We really can’t thank you enough for coming,
Patrick,” Jonathan said as he pulled onto the main road. “I know
from experience that it’s not easy for a man, a family, to just
pack up bare necessities and leave a way of life behind.”

“Nay, it’s me who should be thanking you.
I’ve never been so glad to leave a place before.” He looked to
Shannon, wedged between them, Roan sleeping on her shoulder. “I
don’t know what ye might have heard, but it was getting bad where
we were. All over really. I guess it wasn’t hard to’ pare down when
there wasn’t much to pare.

“Aside from selling a few things to get by,
we were robbed three times. Almost everyone in the building’s been
robbed. If yer lucky, they wait until yer gone. But the one time,
though, Shannon here hid in the bathroom with the babes while they
had their pick of the place.”

“Really, Patrick?”

“Aye. Tis a sad thing to be glad yer out o’
work, so ye can protect yer wife and young.” He shook his head in
disgust.

“Well, you’ll have a better life here. You
won’t be rich, but you can leave your family without worry.”

“How is Arianna? And the others? I haven’t
heard from them in a bit now,” Shannon interrupted.

“They’re good. My Ava and Claire are
expecting, but I’m sure you knew that from their letters. The twins
are doing well. They keep Arianna very busy. That’s probably why
she hasn’t written in a while.”

“And Jean? How is he?” Shannon asked
casually.

Jonathan looked uneasy for a moment. “Ava
wrote you about him then?” he asked, wondering exactly what
knowledge of him they had.

“Aye, she did, just a few weeks ago. Said he
was settlin’ in and lookin’ forward to bein’ a big brother.”

“He is,” he said slowly. He hadn’t thought of
how he would explain Jean to them.

“Tell me what I’ll be doin’, Jon. How big is
this operation you’ve got up here, and where on earth are we
sleepin’ tonight?” Patrick relieved Jonathan with his
curiosities.

“Catching lobster. That’s what you’ll be
doing. And the operation is only three boats right now, but we’re
going to fix up the fourth, so Caleb can fish part-time. And you’ll
be staying with Caleb and Arianna until we get you set up in a
permanent home. It’s a large house, so you should be comfortable
enough.”

“Well, Jon, I can’t tell ye enough how
grateful we are for the opportunity.”

Jonathan laughed. “And I told you, Patrick,
we’re the grateful ones, especially Caleb. We’re all having a
picnic tonight to welcome you.”

Aislin whined and wiggled in Patrick’s lap.
An entire day of sitting still had reduced her to a squirming mass
that wanted to run, jump, and scream about. Jonathan looked out at
the dark billows forming in the eastern sky.

“But we might have to change plans, if that
comes at us too quickly.”

“Looks threatenin’ enough. Get lots o’ storms
like that around here?”

“Some don’t turn out to be much. You can
still work through them. But others come hard and fast with very
little warning. There have been a couple of times when we’ve raced
back to shore just before a powerful one hit.” Shannon's mouth
dropped open with a horrified expression. “But we know better now.
We’re very careful, and there hasn’t been a close one like that in
a long time. In fact, Aryl and Caleb, will probably be back in
plenty of time before dinner.”

∞∞∞

Caleb had picked up his pace and urged Aryl
to do the same. Greenish, gray clouds and humid gusts of salty air
had replaced the warmth of the early summer sun. Caleb scrutinized
the storm in the distance with concern.

“We need to beat that. It’s moving fast.
Let’s pull one more string and then head back. The rest can wait
till tomorrow.”

Rain began to fall, and the wind picked up
considerably. Aryl sorted while Caleb pulled and they worked
frantically. After the last pot in the string, Caleb nodded for
Aryl to start the engines and head home. The rain fell in large,
hard droplets now propelled by vicious winds that stung their faces
and made it hard to see. Aryl frowned after the third attempt to
start the engine failed. Just when Aryl thought they might have to
hoist the sails that had never been used, the engine sputtered to
life, and Aryl let out a deep, relieved breath. He wiped his soggy
hair from his face and tilted his head to give Caleb an odd look.
Caleb had heard it, too. He strained his ears against the roar of
wind. They briefly heard a distant, muted ringing. Aryl stepped
toward the entrance of the berth.

Slammed against the wheel, he had felt it
before he heard it; the detonation merged with the screech of
ripped metal and crunches of splintered planks, which drowned out
Caleb’s guttural scream. Aryl slid to the deck as profuse blood
stains instantaneously materialized through the back of his shirt.
Caleb was to him before his body had settled. He rolled him over
and shouted breathlessly up to the dark heavens.

Aryl was still breathing.

He gripped two fistfuls of Aryl’s shirt and
shook him hard. Aryl’s eyes rolled, found Caleb’s face and he
nodded weakly. Caleb struggled unsteadily to help him to his feet.
Aryl’s mouth moved and his eyes implored his friend frantically,
but Caleb could only watch; his own ears ringing. He was helpless
to understand or answer him. He dragged Aryl along while he began
to pull wildly at the sails in an ingrained drive to save his own
life, praying that the wind would push them back to shore before
the boat sank. Aryl soberly stared at the sharp slant of the deck
and the water lapping at his shoes.

Caleb screamed again, not from the stinging
rain that welted his face and arms, but from the sight of the sails
now pulled several feet into the air. They had been cut. Long,
clean, and deliberate slices that continued to tear into sloppy
shreds as Caleb grabbed hold to yank them violently. He skimmed the
ocean through the storm-shadowed distance and saw a few boats
heading in to beat the storm; it was unlikely they had witnessed
the explosion and smoke through the swirling winds and heavy
rain.