A Shoot on Martha's Vineyard (7 page)

“We're sensitive to the revenue issues,” said Ingalls, putting his nose up toward mine. “But if vehicles aren't managed on that beach, the ecological consequences will be extremely adverse!”

“The ecological consequences will be extremely adverse, eh? The only time I ever heard anybody string together a phrase like that was when he was reading it out of a book. You must have memorized those tablets God showed you when he gave you the job of leading us heathen out of the wilderness!”

“Don't raise your voice to me, Mr. Jackson!” he said, raising his voice. “It costs money to enforce the law, and there are no laws more important than those protecting our environment!”

I was beginning to feel pretty good.

“Nobody needs you or your idiotic notions about what it takes to protect the environment!” I said, raising the voice he'd ordered me not to raise. “The scariest thing about you is that you actually believe what you say!” I turned to Begay and winked and said, “Joe, what are you doing hanging around with an arrogant idiot like this guy?”

I turned back and was surprised to find Lawrence Ingalls swinging a wild right hand at my chin. It was easy to slip it, and I felt sorry for him until he belted my jaw with a hard left and the world turned gray-black. My knees went watery and I realized too late that the right had only been a feint and that Lawrence Ingalls was a boxer. Although only a middleweight, he knew how to put shoulder behind his punches, and that one such punch in the right place has put better men than me down for the count. I got my hands up just in time for him to step in under them and put a hard combination into my gut. Although I was a couple of weight classes heavier than he was, I sagged some more.

If he'd stepped back then and taken his time, he might have put me down, or I might have just kept falling until I hit the ground. But, instead, his temper kept him close, throwing more punches at my belly, and I was able to lurch forward and get my arms around him. I put my chin on his shoulder and let him hold me up while he banged on my kidneys. Slowly my head began to clear and my knees got some starch back into them.

I tightened my arms around him. The surf was off to my right, and I dragged him down to it while he kept thumping my kidneys. But I was a lot bigger than he was, and in spite of his best efforts to stop me, I walked him out into the water and shoved his head under.

He thrashed like a bluefish, but I held him there.

Somewhere off in the distance I heard Begay saying, “Now, now, J.W., if you're going to drown him, it'd be better if you did it without any witnesses around.”

“Let him up,” said Beth's voice. “You'll kill him!”

“Somebody probably will,” I said. “Why not me?”

Ingalls seemed to be weakening. I pulled his head up and he choked and gasped and grabbed at me.

“You shouldn't pick fights with strangers,” I said. “They're not all as nice as I am. The next one may hand you your head on a plate.”

I dragged him back to shore and dropped him on the beach. He didn't look as ironed as he had before.

“I thought he had your number there for a minute,” said Begay. “You must have forty pounds on him, but he still almost cleaned your clock. You're getting old.”

“He never laid a glove on me,” I said, panting.

Beth was kneeling beside Ingalls, who was coughing salt water out of his lungs. She looked up at me with furious eyes.

“I'll have you arrested for assault, you big bully! You almost killed him!”

“He's not even half dead,” I said. “Besides, he threw the first punch, so I should be the suer, not the sue-ee. Ask your witnesses.” I waved a hand at Mondry and Begay.

Ingalls got to his hands and knees. He was still coughing, but looked like he'd live.

“You'd better take your boyfriend back to Boston,” I said to Beth. “This island isn't good for his health.”

“You won't get away with this,” she said. “I'll make sure you don't!”

Ingalls sat back on his heels. By some miracle, his glasses were still on his face.

“Why don't you two keep going on your walk,” said Begay. “Beth and I will get Larry back to the house.”

That seemed like a good idea. “Come on,” I said to Drew Mondry. “We'll check out the cliffs from the beach.”

“Stay away about an hour, at least,” said Begay, with a reasonably straight face.

“I'll remember you,” said Ingalls, coughing. “We'll meet again!”

“You'd better hope not,” I said, and walked away up the beach. Snappy dialogue is my forte.

Mondry walked beside me, saying nothing.

After a while, I looked back and saw that Begay, Beth, and Ingalls were gone.

“Well,” said Mondry.

“I know, I know,” I said. “The whole thing was stupid.”

“I wasn't going to say a thing, but now that you mention it . . .”

“If my face isn't red, it should be.”

“These things happen,” said Mondry.

“I don't like them happening to me,” I said.

A couple of times in the past, when I'd been injured or afraid, a crimson curtain had fallen over my eyes and turned the world the color of blood, and I'd come close to really hurting people. I didn't ever want that to happen again, and wondered now how far away that red world had been when Ingalls had hit me.

“Your friend Begay is an interesting guy,” said Mondry. “He didn't seem too worried about either of you.”

“Joe has seen too much to worry about a spat like this one.”

I was soaked, but that didn't mean much since I was decked out in my normal duds: shorts, a T-shirt, and Tevas, the first two being products of the Edgartown thrift shop; if you live on an island, you have to expect to get wet now and then, either on purpose or accidentally. Besides, my clothes were already drying in the summer sun.

“Where did your friend see all that stuff?”

“You can ask him when we get back to the house. He might tell you, but I wouldn't count on it.”

We walked along the beach as the cliffs rose higher and higher above us, and passed the place where people like to take mud baths.

I said, “This is the place I was telling you about. When I was a little kid, nobody cared if you wallowed around down here in the wet clay, and we used to climb up and
down the cliffs. I think it would take a lot of people a lot of time to wear away these cliffs, but they're Gay Head's cliffs, not mine, and if they want to keep people off them, it's okay with me.”

“You're pretty testy today,” said Mondry.

He was right. I tried to put my testiness away.

We walked to the far end of the cliffs, then back again, passing the rocks where sometimes there are big bass lying in wait for your lure. The only problem with hooking a really big bass at the foot of the cliffs is that you have to somehow tote it back to your truck, which is a long walk. It is a difficulty gladly accepted by bass fishermen.

“We could bring a boat in close and get shots of this beach,” said Mondry, looking first out to sea, then up at the sky. “And I should take a look at the cliffs from a helicopter, too. In fact, I should take a look at the whole island from the air. You know anybody with a helicopter?”

“It costs a lot of money to rent a helicopter.”

He smiled his California smile. “Money is no problem.”

I thought of Zorba's observation that life is a problem; only death is no problem.

“I can find you a helicopter,” I said.

“Good man.”

Our hour was up, so we walked back to the Begays' house. Loathsome Lawrence and his helper were gone.

Zee narrowed one eye and looked at me. “What happened out there? All Joe will say is that you and Larry Ingalls had an argument. But Larry was soaked when he got here and I can see that you got pretty wet yourself. What happened?”

She had Joshua on her hip. I was almost dry by then, so I took him and put him on mine. Babies fit on women's hips better than on men's, but Josh did not seem discontent. He grabbed my T-shirt and tried to get it in his mouth.

“Nothing happened,” I said. “We both jumped into the water, that's all.”

“Jumped into the water, eh? You both jumped into the water?”

“We were having a hot argument, so we jumped into the water to cool off.”

“With your clothes on.”!

“There was a lady present. We had to stay decent.”

Zee came up to me and put a finger lightly against the bruise on my jaw. “I can see I'm going to have to take you home alone before I get the truth out of you.”

I smiled over her head at Toni Begay. “She never beats me up in public. Only in private.”

“I understand,” said Toni. “I'm the same way. I'm just waiting for you guys to leave so I can pound the truth out of Joe.”

“In fear of my life, I plan to hold tight to Hanna as a human shield,” said Begay, bouncing his daughter on his knee.

Mondry, the only man there without a woman, looked from one of us to the other. He had an odd, almost covetous look in his eye.

“Do you have a wife to keep you in line?” I asked him.

Quick as a card sharp, he produced his wallet and a photo of a woman and a girl. “This is my wife, Emily, and our daughter, Carly. They're out in L.A.”

“You should always keep your wife close at hand,” said Zee.

“I'll be back there before too long,” said Mondry. He looked at the photo and then put it away.

“Meanwhile,” I said, “Toni can tell you all about Gay Head. She knows more about it than the rest of us do because she's a genuine born-and-bred Vineyard native and we're just off-island ginks—except for Hanna and Joshua, of course; they qualify as genuine islanders, too, but they're not talking much yet.”

Joe Begay and I took Joshua and Hanna and a couple of beers outside so the babies could discuss their betrothal with their fathers.

Begay rolled himself a cigarette and lit up. Smoking was a habit he had not yet licked, but he was past buying ready-rolled cigarettes, at least.

“What's with you and Ingalls?” I asked. “I don't think I ever heard you mention him before.”

“I was trying to spare your tender sensibilities,” said Begay. “I've heard you saying nasty things about him over the last several years, and I didn't want to get you all worked up. Anyway, he's down here to give a talk to the Marshall Lea Foundation tonight. I met him the last time he came down to talk with them.”

“And you've been showing him the cliffs.”

He tried to blow a smoke ring, but the wind forbade it. “That among other things. We've got the same environmental problems here that the rest of the island has, and no long-range plans to take care of them. Larry has some ideas that might help, so he's been talking and I've been listening. You two didn't seem to hit it off.”

“I don't like dictatorial bureaucrats.”

He smiled. “Especially when they close you off from your fishing grounds, eh?”

“Especially.”

He tried another smoke ring without more success. “I like a man who operates on high moral principles.”

His irony was clear, particularly since he knew that I distrust people who see themselves as acting on high moral principles. People acting on principle have probably done more damage to the earth and its creatures than all of the unprincipled people combined.

“When somebody finally shoots that guy,” I said, “there'll be so many suspects that they won't be able to solve the crime.”

“You're a hard case,” said Begay. He laughed, and after a minute so did I. I wondered if life is absurd all by itself, or if we just make it that way. We meaning me. Begay and I drank our beers and watched Joshua and Hanna paw at each other and eat a little dirt, which they seemed to enjoy.

When the others came out of the house later, Mondry claimed to know more about Gay Head than he had known he could know. He and Zee and Joshua and I then climbed into the Range Rover and drove back down-island.

At our house, the Jacksons got out of the Range Rover and Mondry got into the driver's seat.

“A good time was had by all,” said Zee, flashing her dazzling smile. She took Joshua's wrist and waved his hand. “Say good-bye, Joshua.”

“Good-bye, Joshua,” said Mondry, waving back. “Thanks for coming along.”

Joshua and Zee went into the house.

“Thanks a lot for the tour,” said Mondry to me.

“There's more you haven't seen. The Vineyard doesn't look very big on maps, but not many people, including me, have seen all of it.”

“Will you show more of it to me?”

“Sure.”

“And you'll find a helicopter?” “Sure.”

“Great.” He hesitated. “And there's one thing more.” “What's that?”

He hesitated again, then said, “I want your permission to take your wife out to lunch. I want to talk to her about—”

He stopped as I held up a hand.

“You don't need my permission to talk to Zee. She's my wife, not my property. If you want to ask her to lunch, ask her, not me.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. Then he opened it again. “I just want to do this right. I don't want to go behind your back.”

I wondered what my face was showing him. “I appreciate that,” I said, “but Zee is her own boss and decides what she'll do or won't do. I don't own slaves.”

“But she's your wife. Don't you care what she does?”

I cared. “I want her to be happy. If having lunch with
you makes her happy, I want her to have lunch with you. But she decides, not me.”

He stared at me. “Are you sure about this?”

“I'm sure.”

“Well, then, I'll give her a call. Is this going to prevent you from showing me the island? I don't want you to feel that—”

“The one thing has nothing to do with the other.” He took a deep breath and nodded. “Tomorrow morning, then?” “I'll be here.”