Port Starbird (Storm Ketchum Adventures) (6 page)

The fish didn't take
too long to cook, and when Mario called down that the table was set, the Captain carried the pan upstairs and the others trailed behind with the wine, the Captain's chips, and some of the Captain's beer (at his direction). The sides Ketch had bought earlier were laid out on a table on the screened deck off the kitchen. Everyone filled their plates and carried them out to the front deck to eat. The dog followed the food.

As i
t turned out, they didn't have to wait until after dinner for their entertainment.

"Well dang!" the Captain exploded after they'd all sat down. "Must a cut myself on somethin'! Gimme another napkin," he demanded, the one he'd wrapped around his finger already turning red.

The younger girls all got up and rushed over to him. Joette took the Captain's hand in hers. "Huh, that's a good one," she said as the others looked on.

"Let me see that," Kari said. She took his hand and removed the napkin. "It's not that bad, you don't need stitches. Go wash it off and I'll find you a band
-aid."

The Captain pulled his hand away. "
Now you ladies quit your fussin', this ain't but a scratch," he protested. "See, it's slowin' down already." He wrapped a new napkin around the finger. "I never knowed a woman wouldn't worry herself to death over the silliest little thing," he complained with a wink at Ketch, obviously enjoying the attention nonetheless. He turned back to the women and continued, "Why, you should a seen some of the scrapes I got into back in the day, you'd like to had a heart attack! There was this one time back at the Turtle House, that's a place we used to go when I was stationed in Florida with the Coast Guard..."

Here we go, Ketch thought.

"This fella come in with a fish knife hangin' off his belt, with a blade 'bout as long as your forearm. Big ole coot, drunk as a skunk'n mean as a wild hog..."

"Now you've done it,"
Ketch said to Kari.

"Hush now, I don't think I've heard this one yet," she replied
as she ate. "And pour me some more of that good stuff, if you please."

The sky was
starting to turn dusky now, and where the Captain was sitting the glow from the torches illuminated his face like a primitive spotlight as he hit his stride. "I knowed right off it was me he was after, and I'll admit I had it comin' after that night I spent with his woman. I never said I was no saint," he grinned. "Well, he come right up to me at the bar, and there was plenty a room, everybody else backed right off, I guess they knew too."

"
'I figgered I'd find you here', he says. 'I ought to just kill you flat out, but I ain't about to spend the rest a my days in jail over the likes a you.' Then he lays that blade up on the bar, and he leans his elbow on the bar and puts his arm up."

The Captain paused
to spear some fish and take a drink. No one spoke and he took his time. He had their undivided attention now, and he knew it. Ketch had heard this one before, but the art was in the telling, and he was enjoying it just as much as everyone else.

"An
d then he says, with poison in his voice, 'We're gonna do this civilized-like. I'm gonna wrestle y'all. If you win, you walk - and if I win I get to take one a your fingers, right here and now.' " The Captain stopped for another drink, and this time there were audible gasps from the women.

"Well, I guess you didn't lose,"
Mario observed after doing a quick head count. "That's just crazy," Diana said, and Barb asked wide-eyed, "Y'all didn't really do it, did you?"

"Well, listen," the Captain said
, and continued with his tale.

Ketch noticed that both he and the Captain had
just about finished their current beers, so he went below to fetch a couple more, of the kind the Captain preferred. He'd miss a bit of the story, but not too much. He was pretty sure it was going to go on a little longer than it had the last time he'd heard it anyway. He returned in time to catch the end of the epic arm-wrestling match.

"You
lost
?" Joette squealed.

"
Now hang on! Well I was damned if I was gonna let 'im get the best a me in front a all them people, so I called his bluff. I laid my left pinky on the bar and looked him straight in the eye. It was my bum hand a course, I wouldn't give him my right no matter what anybody thought, just in case. Well he looked right back at me, and the veins was still poppin' out a his head. And I never looked away, not even when he picked up that knife and raised it up to do the deed."

The Captain looked around with satisfaction at his
captive audience. He tipped his bottle up, then frowned and turned it upside-down. Joette glanced around frantically and saw the bottle Ketch was holding out for her. She grabbed it and gave it to the Captain, who leisurely twisted the cap off. "Well, what happened then?" she demanded, biting at a nail.

The Captain took a long pull, then
went on. "Well, like I said, I looked 'im straight in the eye. Just like I figured, he hesitated, and then he starts goin' green around the gills. Pretty soon he looks away and  lowers his arm. 'I can't do it', he says."

The tension had be
en eased as planned, and Ketch watched with interest as the Captain allowed everyone to let out a collective breath and start to relax.

"But then he blows hi
sself up and he says, 'But if I ever hear tell a you and her again, next time you won't be so lucky, you dirty son of a bitch', and then he slings somebody's beer in my face, turns his back, and starts walkin' away." Here the Captain paused again to ingest some more fish. "Well, I couldn't let that go by, not in them days. 'Gutless', I says loud and clear. He stops dead at that. 'What did you say?' he says, and he turns back around. So I says it again, still lookin' right at 'im - 'Gutless'! And then I added on 'Pussy!', for good measure. Next thing I know, that blade comes flyin' 'cross the room, straight at me."

"What happened? Did he cut you? What happened
then?" The Captain let the agitated chorus run its course and winked at Ketch again as he slowly took another sip.

"Well, I saw that blade comin'
and I didn't move a inch, never even flinched. My eyes were pretty good back then and I figured it'd miss, but even so I figured it a little too close as it turned out." He took another quick chug. "Whenever we was out to sea they always give me midnight watch, you know, on account a my eyes, 'cause they knew what a good lookout I was. Why, one time I spotted a -"

"What happened? What happened with the knife?
What did you do then?" the chorus started again, protesting the turn the story was taking.

"Okay, okay," the Captain said with a grin. "Well,
like I said, I figured it a mite close, and I should a ducked, 'cause I damn near got myself kilt that night. 'Course, I was pretty well lickered up, but still. Anyway, I sat there, still lookin' right at 'im, and I heard that blade go singin' past right under my ear, and right after I felt the blood runnin' down my neck. See, it nicked me, and it opened up pretty near a two-inch gash right here on the side a my neck." He tilted his head and displayed the scar for Joette, who now sat spellbound next to him.

"Oh, it's true, look at this, y'all come look
!" she said. There was some murmuring, whether the impressed kind or the merely polite kind Ketch couldn't tell for sure, though with this crew he strongly suspected the former. Then Len asked, "So what happened to that ole boy? Did he just leave after that?"

"Oh, he left all right," the Captain emphatically
answered. "I threw the sumbitch through the front window, and they called a doc to come stitch me up down at the precinct house later that night."

"
Ha!" Mario exclaimed.

"But I'll tell y'all, I still never went over to
that woman's place again. I may be crazy, but I ain't stupid," the Captain concluded.

"
Oh, man!" Joette breathed. Ketch noticed she'd pulled her chair right up next to the Captain's, and her free hand was resting on his knee.

"Looks like he
might've hooked one," Kari remarked quietly to Ketch in amusement. Ketch had to smile as well. How did he manage it, and at his age? It must be the tall tales. Some women were fascinated by the seafaring type, and some by men in uniform, and there were women who were selectively attracted to pirates and rogues, and there were those as well who were attracted to older men; and the Captain had been all of the above at one time or another.

"So
is all that really true? Did he really get that scar in a bar fight?" Kari asked.

"
Well," Ketch softly replied, "don't tell anyone, but I happen to know he accidentally hooked himself under that ear one time when he was fishing." Kari threw her head back and laughed. "But I imagine there was probably some kind of a fight. I think he was kind of wild in his younger days."

"And h
e never got married?"

"Divorced
, just like me. A long time ago, in a galaxy far far away," he added, thinking of her Han Solo remark earlier.

"Just like peas and carrots
!" she said, and laughed again. "Okay now, no more movie references for today!" Then she turned serious. "Never been, myself. Things just never worked out for me that way. I can't have kids anyway, but I got a niece and nephew up in Manteo. Not exactly the same thing, I know, but I guess it'll have to do." She sat up a little straighter and rubbed at her eyes. "Whoa! Where's my glass? I better finish my dinner, I'm babblin', sorry 'bout that! Oh, here it is." She drained it in one gulp. Ketch picked up her plate and handed it to her.

"
So," she added, glancing around the deck. "It looks like Len and Diana, and Mario and Barb, and maybe Don and Joette." She held her empty glass out again. "So there's just me and you left."

"
Yes, I guess so." He refilled her glass and stood. "Well, excuse me for a moment please, I'll be right back." It was time for a pit stop, and another bottle as well; good thing he'd bought a half-dozen of them.

"Hey Ketch," Len called. "How about
fetchin' that git-tar a yours while you're in there?"

Ketch considered attempting to demur
again, as he was in fact nervous about playing in front of people and always had been - but he guessed he'd probably had enough to drink, anyway more than the couple he'd anticipated this afternoon. His fingers still seemed to be working well enough, so what the heck. It certainly wouldn't be the first time he'd embarrassed himself if he botched it - nor was it likely to be the last, he thought, with the foam block floats stacked outside his kitchen window in mind.

~  ~  ~

When
Ketch returned with the guitar, Len switched the radio off and gave everyone a brief introduction. Ketch made himself comfortable, and the dog came over and settled beside his chair. He liked it when Ketch played music.

"It's just a silly
little song," Ketch explained further as he adjusted the tuning, "that grew in my mind out of an old joke you might have heard, about a first mate who wasn't the brightest bulb in the shed, or whatever. It's called 'Port Starbird', like it says on yonder ring. Here we go:"

"
Well I mate for a charter boat captain,

He's a heck of a mighty sailin' man
,

With just a compass, and a twelve-pack
,

He will take you anywhere he can
.

Every day just before we set sail,

He reads the same piece of paper again
,

He says it's a private inspiration
,

That's worth more than most of his friends
.

He says he's been around the world, he can't remember all of the girls,

But if he can just remember Port Starbird, he can die a happy man
.

Port left, starboard right, ships that pass, in the night,

When you don't know where you're going, any course will take you there
,

Port left, starboard right
.

Somehow, we always seem to get somewhere,

Though I've never seen him use a chart
,

He must be a great navigator
,

An expert at some old lost art
.

But every time we pull up the anchor,

He reads that same piece of paper again
,

He says it's a private philosophy
,

That helps the means justify the ends
.

He says he's been around the world, with lots of true-hearted girls,

And if he can just remember Port Starbird, he will die a happy man
.

I want to go, to Port Starbird, I want to blow, this particular harbor,

I wan
t to sail around the world, like my captain did,

I wan
t to go, to Port Starbird.

Well he passed on just the other day,

We buried him at sea
,

The way that he would have wanted
,

That was where he always wanted to be
.

But I felt like there was something missing,

That prayer for safety that he never read to me
,

Or maybe it was an old love letter
,

That belong
ed with him down in the sea.

So I retrieved the paper from his locker, and finally saw what the old man had read,

Every day for all our years on the sea, and here's what the paper said:

Port left, starboard right, red left, green right
,

When boats pass in the daytime
, or in the night,

Go port-to-port
, and you'll be all right.

Port left, starboard right, ships that pass, in the night,

When you don't know where you're going, any course will take you there
,

Port left, starboard right
,

Port left, starboard right
,

Port left, starboard right
."

He finished with a flourish. "Well, that's it," he said. He set the guitar aside and reached for his beer. His hand was shaking just a bit, but he felt good - he'd gotten through it without making any major mistakes. The laughter and applause started as he tipped the bottle up.

"
I get it!" Len exclaimed. "You sly son of a gun!" the Captain laughed. "Hey, that was excellent, man, really!" Mario declared, and the beach bunnies concurred. "Do another one! Do you have more originals?"

Kari gave
Ketch's arm a pinch. "I had no idea you were so dang clever!" she said. "Did you really make all that up by yourself?"

"I did," Ketch answered
. He saw that her glass was empty again. "Here, let me top that off for you."

Len
said, "Ketch, y'all mind if I play a little somethin'?"

Thank you again, Len, Ketch thought with relief.
He'd had enough of public performing for tonight. "Not at all, please do, be my guest," he replied, passing Len the guitar.

Len wasn't much of a singer, but he was a good
chicken-picker. "So, me and you," Kari mused while Len played, finding her way back to her earlier train of thought. "Kari and Storm, Storm and Kari. Sounds weird. Ha - Ketch and Kari! We could open a live bait shop!" She laughed and took another drink. "Where'd you get that name, 'Storm'? I know you don't like it, but I don't know why."

"Like Bruce Willis said in
Pulp Fiction
, this is America, names don't mean anything." Ketch chuckled. "Sorry, you said no more movie references."

"Come on, I'm serious."

"Okay. Well, my parents were a little odd. Not in a bad way, but they were definitely on a tributary off the main stream. They were big fans of pulp fiction and those old noir mysteries when I was a kid. I think they hoped I'd become either a movie actor or a famous detective, so they gave me something they thought I'd need, what they thought was a glamorous name at the time. And no middle name either, just 'Storm Ketchum'. But I became a scientist."

"
Are they disappointed?"

"Not anymore. They're both gone now."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "Huh... Well now, don't we make a pair? A failed noir detective, and a jug of syrup." At Ketch's puzzled look she explained, "You know, for hotcakes, like Karo syrup, you ever had that? Your folks were just ahead of their time. I was born when a
lot
of folks were startin' to screw around with spellin' and makin' up new names to try to be different. I guess I'm lucky, though, it could've been worse. I could've been named Moon Unit or Dandelion or Lafawnduh or somethin' like that, I guess."

After Len
, Barb took over - and surprisingly, she turned out to be a something of a virtuoso, obviously classically trained. You never can tell about people, Ketch thought. He hoped his own performance hadn't been too offensively amateurish for her.

"Hey, y'all got any of that wacky terbacky
stashed around here?" Kari abruptly inquired.

"What?" Ketch chuckled. "No, I don't keep
any here. You'll have to ask, uh, someone else about that." He'd almost said 'Mario', but loose lips can sink ships. Not that he didn't trust her, but who knew who she might mention it to sometime, and so on down the line. "Besides, I think you're doing fine without it."

"Oh yeah?
Well, mister smart guy, you don't know everything."

"Everythin'
'bout what?" the Captain's voice suddenly projected from right behind them. Kari almost dropped her glass. Ketch hadn't noticed him returning up the steps from his cooler. "Never mind, none a my beeswax. You dawg!" the Captain leered at Ketch. "Hey, we're talkin' 'bout truckin' this party on down to the boatyard, where they got some, shall we say, additional resources, you know? We're gonna clean up here first, though. Y'all want to join us?"

"
Thanks, but not me," Ketch said. "It's been a long day for me."

"Me neither,
but thank you kindly," Kari immediately added, to Ketch's surprise given her recent query. "I've got to get goin' soon."

The others
were starting to collect plates and bottles. "You guys don't have to do anything, don't worry about it," Ketch said.

"Hey, it's the least we can do for a great musician like y'all.
In fact, it's a dang honor!" the Captain pronounced. "Don't worry, won't take long with us all doin' it. By the way, okay if I leave my truck here? Ain't in your way, I don't think. I'll walk down with the others and pick 'er up tomorrow, and just crash on board tonight."

"Of course, that's fine. And thank you. Just do what you feel like doing, I'll take care of the rest later."

The Captain went off to help in the kitchen. "I should help out too, I guess, but I don't know if I can stand up," Kari giggled. "So, what are y'all gonna do with me? I guess I shouldn't be drivin' right about now, and neither should you. Should I go on down there with the rest of them? Maybe I could crash on board somewhere too," she teased.

"Well," Ketch said.
He hadn't thought about this, but in his defense he hadn't known she'd go through two bottles of wine either. He wondered what was behind that; she hadn't behaved like this when she'd been here in the past. "I have that second bedroom. It isn't very fancy, but there's a bed and it's made up. I have a new toothbrush I haven't opened yet."

"
Yeah? No, wait, I'm sorry, I shouldn't put y'all on the spot like that," she apologized. "I might could ask the girls if I could stay with one of them. If they aren't gonna be busy later, that is, I don't know about that."

"No, you don't have to do that. You
're welcome to stay here tonight. I honestly don't mind." Ketch got up from his chair and bowed. "In fact, Jack and I would love to have you, really, and we insist." He smiled down at her, sincerely enough to reassure her, he hoped. The dog joined him and wagged in agreement, with a doggy grin on his face as well. He loved company.

"
Well, okay then!" she said, smiling back at both of them. "Thanks!"

The others s
hortly began exiting the house and reassembling on the front porch, having finished the cleanup. "Hey man," Mario said, "what's with all that stuff you got piled up out back there?"

"Yeah," Len said, "we couldn't help but
spot 'em out the window when we were loadin' the dishwasher. What are they, floatation blocks? Y'all fixin' to put up a floatin' dock or somethin' like that?"

Ketch had hoped no one
would notice the blocks; he should have covered the kitchen window. He'd gotten lucky when the truck had delivered them - no one he knew had been around at the time, and as his neighbors were largely vacation renters he hadn't worried about any of them. But he supposed they'd had to have found out eventually anyway.  Still, it was getting late and he didn't want to go into all the details tonight. He didn't think he had the energy to both explain everything and defend himself against accusations that he was losing his mind; which maybe he was.

"They're for the house," he
said. "I want to attach them underneath it so the house will be able to float, just in case."

"
Really? Wow. I've heard of people doin' that," Mario said, "but not anywhere around here."

"How come I didn't know about this?
" the Captain asked. "When did you get the dang things? And what about Ingram and that lot, I thought you were gonna have to sell the place? You got a engineer?" He stopped talking and raised his arms. "Okay, sorry, too many questions." He pulled a chair up by Ketch and cast a glance around the group. "Do you know somethin' 'bout the weather we don't? Should we be thinkin' about movin' our boats?"

"No!" Ketch hastily replied. "I don't know anything, there's nothing for
you to worry about." The rest of the group started settling back into their chairs, and he carefully continued. "It turns out I won't be selling the house," he began. Though this was technically true, it was of course not the whole truth. And technically speaking, were these white lies he was engaging in, or lies of omission, or just plain lies? Maybe he was just building up to the whole truth gradually, the way Emily Dickinson had advised in a poem of hers he happened to recall some of:
Tell all the truth but tell it slant, success in circuit lies, too bright for our infirm delight, the truth's superb surprise.
Yes, that worked for him, for now.

"
I guess you must a just found that out, since you didn't tell me about it this mornin'," the Captain said. "But you had to've ordered them blocks some time ago, right?" He crossed his arms and put a look on his face that made it clear he was waiting for an explanation.

"
They were delivered on Saturday. I ordered them when you were out of town. I'm sorry, I just didn't feel like going into it this morning," Ketch said. "We didn't have much time to talk anyway." That didn't fully explain Ketch's outburst regarding Ingram and his grandiose plans on this morning's charter, among other inconsistencies, and the Captain didn't appear satisfied - but then Kari cut in.