Of Sea and Cloud (37 page)

Sit down if you want, he said. I don't care.

I'll go, she said. She waited and took a few breaths then stepped back but still held the door latch.

The cold air bent the candle flame over and put it out.

Either stay or go but shut the fucking door, Jonah said. He flicked the lighter again and lit the candle and held his hand blocking the wind.

Charlotte didn't move. She felt a rush of anger. You got no reason to be an asshole to me.

Jonah glanced at her in the candlelight then back to the candle.

She heard his breathing.

Fine, she said and stepped outside and shut the door.

He dumped a few cigarettes out of a pack onto the table and took one and put it in his lips and leaned forward and lit the cigarette with the candle flame. He shielded the flame with his palm. His hands shook. He leaned back and blew smoke out of the sides of his mouth.

He let his hand fall to the table and he stared at the candle's reflection in the window and within that reflection he saw his own face and naked shoulders shuddering in the light. He couldn't see Charlotte standing beyond the window and wasn't sure if she was there or not. He looked around the room and felt a strange surge of energy like he was surfacing from a long time underwater.

He let the candle go out. He saw Charlotte on the far side of the glass.

• • •

Charlotte stood alone amid the darkness. She held her hands in her pockets. She watched the calm moonlit waters push across the patch of cobblestone below. As the water receded the stones tumbled together and created a hollow knocking that filled the air. She wondered what her life was going to be from this point on. It was as if she were staring out to sea with the intention of walking across it and was only now judging the possibility of such a feat. There'd been a time when she'd envisioned a life with Jonah and children but that vision had evaporated and all that remained was the air and the space that the vision once filled.

She reminded herself that air and space was what she wanted. She heard the door open and Jonah stood in the doorway. He spoke to her and his voice was tired but carried over the sea. My old man used to say that everyone in this world wants to be treated like whoremeat at least once and I'd say you done treated yourself to a shark's portion.

Why are you telling me that? Her voice was proud and defensive and hollow.

Julius used you like a whore or you used him like a whore.

You followed me? she said and the words had slipped out and her voice had no strength and she remembered her fear and she remembered Julius's hands like vices.

Jonah looked at her. He saw her on the bed with Julius behind her and her clothes piled on the dirty stained carpet and dirty towels sprawled on the dirty bathroom floor. He still heard her grunts as if they'd burrowed like mites into his head. A single breast swung. He closed his eyes and tried to separate the girl he knew from the girl he'd seen but he didn't know if separating them was possible or even right.

He heard her quick breaths.

Her eyes were wet but she didn't cry.

Neither spoke for several minutes and both hoped the ocean would somehow through size or power or age remove their two brief histories.

Come the spring of the year, Jonah finally said with a grin, I'm taking myself clamming.

Her look lost its severity and her skin looked like ivory in the starlight. No you aren't either, Jonah. You'll keep saying that and saying that, then my dad and Bill will talk you into lobster fishing again. Just like always.

The hell they will. But if they do, I'm thinking I might take the
Cinderella
. I'm starting to like the sound of it. Jonah motioned to the mouth of the cove. I got her here now.

You have the
Cinderella
?

Jonah nodded.

Why'd your dad even name it that? I always wondered.

A smile spread across Jonah's face. He never told me, but Bill said that's what he used to call Mom. I don't know.

I like it, Charlotte said. It's sweet.

Yeah. Well I'm going to leave the
Jennifer
right where she is. Right in the belly of this godfucked ocean. I think the old man might like having her down there. It'll be his gravestone.

Underwater? With his wife's name on it, Jonah?

It does seem so.

Charlotte drew in a deep breath. She brushed her hand over Jonah's then put it back in her pocket. I was so mad at my dad, Jonah. But when I was driving around today, I all of a sudden felt sorry for him. He always seemed so big and now he doesn't.

Jonah listened but the words were far off. The ocean echoed in his head and a remote piece of his father echoed in his head. As he listened the echoes merged and took shape as a truth that Jonah felt he could almost touch. He looked out at the water that covered the
Jennifer
then out to the mouth where he'd left the
Cinderella
at anchor.

This is it, he said. His voice carried a force he didn't recognize.

This is what, Jonah?

Jonah stared a while at the silver ocean. Never mind, he finally said. Just that I'm leaving the
Jennifer
right there on bottom. Jonah nodded his head as he spoke. I think the old man will like having her down there with him.

He turned and opened the door and stepped inside. He lit the candle and the flame cast an orange shadowed glow across the spruce walls. He breathed in heavily through his nostrils.

Charlotte moved in behind him and put her hand on his shoulder. He turned and held the candle shielded by his palms. Her chin and nose and forehead gleamed in the soft light. She put her hand on his cheek. I'm sorry, she said. I'm so sorry.

They stared at each other through the flame.

Charlotte sucked in her cheeks.

Jonah looked at the window and his reflection still flicked on the glass. Waves rolled against the ledges as the moon pulled against the Atlantic. Eventually Jonah said, I'm hungry. You hungry?

No.

I'll make pancakes. You want pancakes?

No.

I got syrup. I know you love that.

She smiled and her smile turned into a yawn and her yawn turned into a stretch. No, she said.

Jonah lit a lantern and stoked the fire. As the fire grew he took a box of pancake batter from the cupboard. He mixed the batter and set a griddle on the stove. Charlotte stood with her back to the fire and held her hands behind her and her chin was over her shoulder as she watched Jonah. When the pancakes were finished he gave her a plateful and she thanked him. They ate in silence and when they were finished Jonah put more wood on the fire. They sat on the small couch together with just the light of the candle burning. Soon Charlotte fell asleep and her head slid to the side and landed on Jonah's shoulder. He didn't move. He sat there listening to her breath as he thought about Osmond Randolph.

Jason Jackson left the city early in the morning. Turtle rode with him and they drove a small Japanese car and they drove in silence along the broken coastline. Turtle sat cross-legged and held a small handbag in her lap.

They went first to the harbor. Jason pulled onto the wharf. The wind blew hard from the north and stretched the fleet's mooring lines. Ice hung from the bridles and hulls and riggings. Jason spotted Julius's new boat and pointed it out to Turtle.

I'd like to see that little prick come to Honolulu, she said.

Settle down, Jason said.

He looked out to Ram's Head and nodded then backed off the wharf and drove to the pound. The car dragged its undercarriage over the rocks and snow and frozen ruts but Jason didn't seem to notice. They stood at the edge of the pound with the air at their backs as Jason surveyed the ice and the causeway and the pound house and the dam. He turned and faced the east where the tidal stream eased through the frozen marsh grass. Beside the marsh stood the piles of Nicolas's traps.

They drove to Osmond's house. Osmond was in the bar when they arrived. Jason held two bottles of sake tucked in his elbow and he gave them to Osmond.

Where's your boy Julius?

He'll be here.

What happened to your face?

I had a run-in, that is all.

Jason grunted. What does Julius think of things?

He's young, said Osmond. He thinks his boat is the only thing he needs in this world.

He doesn't understand connection, Jason said. But he is quite a lad. Gwen spoke very highly of him.

Osmond nodded.

Turtle's never been this far north, Jason said. What do you think of the north, Turtle?

It's a dump.

Show Osmond your new jacket.

Turtle stood and turned around. Her jacket was glittering red nylon and on the back was the silhouette of a woman on a motorcycle with her hair trailing in the wind and the jacket said
Hell's Bitches
.

Daniel found that at a vintage clothing place.

You see that? Turtle asked Osmond.

I see, said Osmond.

I know, she said.

Jason shook his head. What are your plans, Osmond? If Julius isn't interested in our ideas, what are your plans?

He'll be interested. This is for him.

I understand that. You don't want him to grow up like his father. I didn't want to grow up like my father either because he beat the shit out of me but that's not the point.

Julius respects his father.

Jason turned to Turtle and whispered something into her ear and she said, Fuck off, Big Man.

We agreed, he said.

That was before I knew this was the fucking Arctic Circle up here. I'll freeze to death.

Turn the car on.

Fucker, she said. I'll be out there thinking of all the shit you owe me for all this shit you pull.

She walked out the door.

Jason shook his head again. He looked out the window and waited until he heard the car door shut. Then he spread his hands on the marble bar top and faced Osmond. Tell me this—How did Nicolas Graves die?

Are you asking me something in particular?

Jason laughed and wiped his hand along his black and white beard. Yes I am, yes I am. I'm asking you exactly what I asked you.

Be careful, Jason, Osmond said. He tucked his hair behind his ear as he watched Jason.

I am careful. I'm careful about investing a lot of money in a partnership with someone I don't trust.

Osmond's face gave away no emotion but his eyes were small and dark and he spoke more quickly than usual. And what do you base this lack of faith on?

Jason swirled his hand around the bar top. No, no, Osmond. I'll put it this way. I trust my Japanese friend because he is a ruthless bastard. To him, I am a means to an end. Just like I am to you and you are to me. I trust him because that is on the table. I fuck him over and he sends some little ninja slob to slice my throat. What I don't trust is your boy Julius. I don't trust what motivates him because it's not money and it's not pussy. You tell me what it is, Osmond, because it's not your God either.

Osmond watched the ocean froth white outside his windows. He watched his boat buck in the chop. He thought about Chimney and knew that to be the only thing in the world which motivated Julius in a sheer and lucid way and as he thought Jason spoke.

His father, Chimney, isn't it? That was Gwen's take as well. She's a quick one, Osmond. She understands. I don't keep her around for her looks.

Osmond didn't know what to say. He felt heat rise in his face and it wasn't a feeling he was used to.

I don't trust him because I believe that when Chimney is released Julius will be at his command. And even before then. I am not going to invest my money in an endeavor with someone whose motivations are so dubious.

That's enough, Osmond said but his voice was quiet.

Do you understand me? Jason said.

They heard Julius's truck come down the driveway and stop. Jason nodded.

I understand you, Osmond said. And you must understand me. Nicolas was my friend and that is all I will say.

I know he was, Jason said. He was a good man. And Julius killed him, is that right?

No, said Osmond but his voice did not listen to him as he told it to speak surely. No, he said again and again he remembered Julius's voice that he had shut from his mind and the voice said,
They think it was me
, and finally like a gut-shot Osmond understood something he should have understood long ago. This boy who he had been trying to save for so long was now trying to save him and the realization left Osmond so breathless and so shocked by regret that he had to brace his physical structure in order to carry on.

No? I think so, Jason said as the door opened and Julius came in with his broken lips and bruised neck. Jason turned and nodded. Julius, he said.

Julius went behind the bar and opened a can of cola. He held the can away from his lips as he drank. Osmond watched him and wanted to lift him into his arms and run and never stop.

Tell me a story, Julius, Jason said.

I don't tell stories. I say it like it is and that's that. Julius peered out the window. Why's Turtle in the car?

She likes it, Jason said.

She'll freeze. I better go get her.

No you won't, Osmond said.

Give her a moment, Jason said. She's got a new jacket. Right now I want to hear your story.

Julius's eyes flicked to Osmond. Osmond watched the lobster in the tank. He's wondering about Nicolas, Osmond said. His voice was flat.

He's dead, said Julius.

I understand that.

What do you care anyhow?

I don't care. I wonder. That is what one does when one is in business. You wonder about the men you do business with. You wonder until you know.

And you wonder about me, Julius said to Jason but faced his grandfather.

Yes. And so does your grandfather.

Jason, Osmond said but that was all and he felt Julius's betrayed eyes on him and a feeling of deep and absolute exhaustion spread through him and if in that moment he could have closed his eyes and never opened them again he would have done so without hesitation.