by Kieran York
“I’m ready.”
“I have something,” Summer said with a faltering voice. “Beryl, I’m not sure I belong here.”
“We all belong,” I argued.
“Naw. I took a job at the gym. I’ll live on the premises where I’ll be able to work with troubled kids. Maybe I can make a difference.”
Rachel interceded, “Summer needs to search.”
My eyes began to sting. “If it’s what you want, I accept your resignation. But just remember, there will always be a berth here for you.”
As Summer exited, I started after her. Rachel caught my arm. I pulled away. “Rach, we can’t let her go.”
“We’ve got to. For all the reasons Lilia needed to leave. Finding herself.”
“I’ll put a notice at the lesbian community center for a deckhand. We’re going on that cruise no matter what.” My throat constricted. “It just won’t be the same without Summer.”
“You’ll need a couple of deckhands. Beryl, I’m going to be returning to the force. I’ll take a month off, then start orientation again. I realize this is short notice. But I need to sort my life out. It needs relevance.”
I blinked with the power of a slap. “But why? What about all this isn’t relevant to you? To all of us?”
“It’s time to consider my options. Maybe, both Summer and I, we were frightened that our team almost disbanded when you fell in love with Lilia. We felt we were losing you. If we leave first, it won’t hurt as much.”
“It will never be the same without you and Summer.” I paused. “Sylvia Grant’s murder has redirected all of our lives. She told me that love comes back in different ways. Maybe love comes back when you don’t deserve it. She told me that.”
Rachel nodded. “Right. I wonder if anyone ever deserves love. It’s all so complex.”
I murmured, “Sylvia Grant was a complex woman. Her complexity was in her voice. Her soul was displayed through music. Why wouldn’t that complexity also be part of her death? She’s one of those memorable people. The world won’t forget her life. We won’t forget her death.”
“I don’t think any of us will ever forget a moment of this case,” Rachel agreed.
“No, we won’t.” Certainly, the portrait of her forever will hang in my mind’s gallery. I admitted Lilia would also remain in my heart.
“But it’s time to move on.” Rachel’s statement was solemnly spoken.
My voice pleaded, “Someone needs to see that Pluma’s bells, swing bar, and bawdy dictionary are packed for the trip. Please, Rach, won’t you reconsider?”
Rachel didn’t answer. A smile of forced optimism flickered. She then picked up her computer, placed it in her leather portfolio and exited.
I went out onto the deck where I stood looking up at the slice of a moon’s glow. A sky was filled with a sparkling bouquet of stars. Tears trickled down my cheeks. It was a flood careening away from my heart. There were three women the team cared about. Each of those women would be implicated in murder. In triplicate, the trio experienced the pain. Trevar’s Team was now self-destructing.
I wanted to believe Sappho had gathered us together. That our goddess had once directed us to The Radclyffe Hull. Mostly, I wanted to believe love would bring them back.
17
I HADN’T BEEN browsing for love when Lilia Franco entered my life.
The week after our parting had been a hectic one. Lilia had agreed to allow me to see her off. I’d taken Lilia to the West Palm Airport. I watched as she walked down the jet-way and out of my life. I thought I saw her turn and smile, but maybe not.
Rachel and Summer must have also thought a quick break was the kindest. Rachel made plans to move in with her friend from the police department. Summer had packed a load of her belongings and abandoned ship.
I was left behind as I felt I had been so many times in my life. Although I’d posted notices on the board at the bookstore and lesbian community center, there had been no replies to the ‘deckhand’ advertisement. I was restless to pull up anchor.
I’d given my speech to the Florida Bar Association’s luncheon. I’d done the preparatory work for Debra’s case. I’d called to have my auto stored after its repair. I tried to keep occupied. With great emptiness, I plunged down on my office chair. Busy work was inspecting files, paying bills and tying up loose ends.
The radio played in the background. When Lilia Franco’s latest release was aired, I stopped for many moments. My heart tightened sharply. My throat constricted and my eyes burned with tears. I glanced down at the wristwatch she’d given me. I longed for a lemon drop. I longed to hold her. My services were no longer required.
I listened intently. The disc jockey announced that there was a news release concerning Lilia Franco. I turned up the volume. Lilia had joined a religious order. She hoped to be with a Latin American missionary group. Lilia had gone home.
Although I was where I resided, I wasn’t really home, I considered. Home was Trevar’s Team.
When the telephone rang, it was Rachel. “Yes,” I answered. “I just heard the news. I hope she’ll find the happiness I couldn’t give her.”
“Beryl, you sound very sad. Need some company?”
“I am very sad. I just need to get away. Listen, Rach, I’m thinking about taking off on vacation sooner than I’d planned.”
“Did you get some replies to your ads?”
“No. Maybe I can get a rent-a-crew for The Radclyffe. There are usually crews available at a merchant marine employment agency.” I peered out of the porthole. There was a wide sea out there, I thought. “At any rate, if there’s anything aboard that you’ll need within the next few weeks, maybe you could get it this morning. Shoving off in the afternoon would suit me fine.”
“I hate to see you trying out a makeshift crew.”
“I need to get away.”
“Right. I’ll be over in a few minutes to talk with you.”
While I waited for Rachel, I checked the weather reports. It hadn’t taken her long to arrive. When I looked up, I noticed she had travel luggage.
“Going to fill those bags up?” I asked.
“No. They’re already full. I want to empty them back into my stateroom. You can’t manage without me.”
“You’re right. Absolutely right.” I approached and hugged her tightly. “Rach, I’ve missed you.”
“I’ll bet you haven’t even called on the disconnects yet, right? Sublet the slip?”
I laughed. “See, I really can’t make it without you.”
“And how about checking emergency gear, instruments, and provisions?”
“Okay, so I’m not really organized. We’ll still be short-handed, but we can make it.”
“Right. Now you work on getting a chart prepared. And I’ll attend to the rest.”
I worked diligently on the chart. When I’d finished, I went on deck to secure our identification flagging and place our American flag out. I turned to go back inside.
“Trev, need a mechanic?” Summer asked.
My eyes watered. “We need you,” I answered, pulling her to me.
Rachel had come out to check on my progress. Her knowing expression told me that she had contacted Summer. “Summer, want some help getting your bike aboard?” she asked.
Nodding, Summer answered, “You bet. I have crap loading my bike almost to the ground. I can use both of you to carry loads while I bring my cycle aboard.”
“You’ve got it, partner,” I whooped as my arms gathered them both to my sides. When we reached her bike, I grabbed a suitcase and duffle bag. Hoisting the bag over my shoulder, I grumbled, “Did you put your barbells in here?”
“Nope. Ankle weights. The gym just didn’t give me the workouts I got as a trio member. That’s why I decided to return.”
“Not out of love?”
Summer grinned. “Love, too. I’ve missed you both.”
We followed as Summer steered her bike through the marina. When we reached the gangway, I caught a glimpse of
a beautiful young woman seated near the edge of our yacht. Her golden hair sprayed with the wind. Her tanned, gorgeous face was being shaded by her saluting hand.
“Who is she?” Summer asked. We watched the stunning woman in her early twenties as she inspected The Radclyffe. “Oh please,” Summer sighed, “make her a recruit. What we have here is a centerfold sample.”
“A client?” Rachel suggested with a question.
“If so, we’ll turn the assignment down,” I promised resolutely. I extended my hand to the young woman. “I’m Beryl Trevar. And my partners, Rachel Rosen and Summer Wade. What can we do for you?”
“I saw your notice for a crew member on the bulletin board at the lesbian center. I don’t know much about yachts, but I can scuba,” she announced.
“That’s a start,” Summer uttered with a smile. “We’re about to pull up anchor.”
“My name is Sarah. My girlfriend and I broke up and I need to get away. I just finished college. It would be great to get away from my parents.”
I saw the approving look of my partners. “We have an abbreviated job application. One question, actually. You’ve never murdered anyone, have you?”
“Gosh, no. My dad’s a cop,” she exclaimed.
“Rach is an ex-cop,” Summer told her.
“Maybe you know my dad? Lieutenant Powers.”
My eyes went wide. “We absolutely know your dad.” I picked up her duffel bag. “You’re hired. As long as you wire your parents to let them know you’re in safe hands. Just tell your father that you’re aboard The Radclyffe Hull.
“Gosh, my first job. Where are we going?”
Pluma squawked, “Nos vamos al infierno!”
“What?” Sarah asked with disbelief.
“She said we’re going to hell,” I answered. “But let’s say we’re aiming for the Bahamas.”
Sarah joined the laughter of Rachel and Summer.
I allowed a sturdy laugh. Then I issued a formal welcoming, “It is official. On behalf of the crew, we welcome you. We shall be debarking for the Bahamas at approximately fourteen hundred. We shall now ready our vessel. And we hope you’ll enjoy your cruise. Summer can show you around, also acquaint you with debarkation crew tasks.”
“Radclyffe Hull?” Sarah deliberated with a creased forehead. “Isn’t she a lesbian writer?”
“Hall,” Rachel informed her “When it’s ‘hull’ it’s us.”
“Yeah,” Summer agreed with a wispy smile. “It’s us.”
Yes, I silently repeated. It is us.
We lifted anchor, shoving off for a relaxing destination. I realized how free the rolling sea makes one feel. After passing an inlet, The Radclyffe was directed out onto the great blueness of ocean. Then I put her on automatic pilot. I had a task to complete.
I returned to my office. I opened the safe, rummaging until I found the letter my mother had written all those many years ago. I then returned to the deck. I leaned against the hull’s edge. I examined the yellowed letter with the desperate scrawling of my name. Behind the letter, I viewed the rushing, swirling waters of the sea. With both hands, I lifted the letter up against the sun’s brightness.
If its contents were an apology, I was already aware of the regret and sadness. A pardon was automatic. If there were words of belated love, they were delayed but had always been accepted. The reason would be understood without having to be said. If the letter contained only excuses and condemnations, I refused to ever again board a vessel of guilt. My best guess was that my mother either had died years ago after a sad and lonely life or was living a sad and lonely life now. If she were alive, confrontation was improbable.
I was proud of myself, and a proud member of a special family. My family consisted of two sisters and a profane parrot.
I tore the letter in half, then into jigsaw confetti. I threw the pieces of paper down into the spewing, flushing mouth of the sea. Then I returned to the pilothouse where I took the helm.
For indeed as the quote by Gabriela Mistral said—it was the kiss, not the lips—that was the remaining memory.
We’d been out to sea half an hour when our new guest asked me how the team met. She thought I was teasing with my answer. But Rachel and Summer caressed me with their grins. They knew my answer was as correct as any other.
I’d answered that we met in a Sapphic Lost and Found department.
The Debarkation
COMING ATTRACTIONS
BALLAD OF RAINDROPS
TROUBADOUR NOLIE CASSIDY’S existence had always been unorganized. Although her life had settled down, it was now once again disrupted. Events had suddenly shrouded her life. Her precious old Irish Setter had died. Her inkwell dried up, and her guitar was in hibernation.
She was in love with Libby. But Libby had let her down. Nolie was once again a vagabond. But now she was without a song, without a lyric, and without love.
Nolie previously wrote poems and songs that came from some magical Muse. She believed that it was her Muse that had gone missing. That was until Nolie herself became lost in the middle of the Rocky Mountains. Then she realized that she was the one that had been lost and was lost.
To be found, it took a storm, the friendship of a dog she despised, and a woman who loved Nolie.
ASTRAY
NEWS MEDIA CRIME reporter Randa Florez has lived a fascinating life.
Her bloodline was Hispanic and Caucasian. On her maternal side were wealth and fame. However, she resented her opera-singing mother. Her father was hated by her mother’s family. He was a mechanic. Randa was raised primarily by her father and his familia Florez.
Facing her private midlife crises became complicated.
Even more complicated when a heinous crime was committed by a lesbian—Jona Beck.
Randa was the only member of the media that Jona would agree to speak with. They were ‘sister Sapphics,’ Jona had explained. Randa’s interview with the woman who was deemed criminally insane had made Randa a media star.
It had also placed her on Jona’s victim list—should the young killer ever escape.
PRIMROSE
MEGAN HOLLOWAY WAS hooking up with a country-western musical group called Primrose. The women band members were as bedraggled, broke, and down-and-out as she was.
Each member of the group had hit a wrong note or two. Road manager, Fran Tobias was a longtime functioning alcoholic. Selina and Camille’s relationship was threatened when Megan flirted with Camille. Would Megan’s dalliance with the beguiling Camille split up the group?
The band knew Megan Holloway’s voice was exceptional. They also knew she’d been ravaged by losing the love of her life. The gorgeous BlueJean’s breakup with the singer had left Megan with a serious drinking problem. BlueJean was a DJ at a country-western radio station in Denver. The band’s string of gigs would include performing in Denver. Would Megan be able to withstand the dazzling BlueJean’s charisma?
Keeping Megan on the wagon would be a challenge. Keeping the tour bus rolling would present another dilemma. All that could be verified was that they were women in a band called Primrose.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kieran York has authored both Sapphic fiction and poetry. Her lesbian mystery series, Timber City Masks and Crystal Mountain Veils, featuring Royce Madison were originally written and published in the mid-1990s. A second edition of them was recently released. Shinney Forest Cloaks is the third mystery in the series. All three Royce Madison mysteries have been on the Amazon 100 Best-Seller’s list. And Shinney Forest Cloaks was Amazon’s Hot New Release.
York has had two collections of lesbian short fiction. The first was entitled Sugar With Spice, was published in 1989. The second in 2015 called Within Our Celebration.
In 2012, York’s book, Appointment with a Smile, was published and was a 2013 Lambda Literary Society Award Finalist in the Romance category. Her next novel, Careful Flowers, was released in 2013, followed by two releases in 2014 – Earthen Trinkets and Night Without Time, published by Scarlet
Clover Publishers. In 2015, Touring Kelly’s Poem and Loitering on the Frontier were released.
In 2014, her volume of poetry, Blushing Aspen, was published as Sappho’s Corner Solo Poets book of poetry. It won The Rainbow Award Honorable Mention for poetry and was a Finalist in the poetry category of Golden Crown Literary Awards. In 2015, the poetry book titled Realm of Belonging was published by Scarlet Clover Publishers.
Previously, during the seventies and eighties, Kieran worked as a reporter and reviewer for both newspapers and magazines and was a magazine publisher for three years. She also wrote and performed songs with a regional woman’s band. She has been a guest lecturer and panel member at various events, including Rocky Mountain Book Exhibition, Colorado Musicians Series, Mystery Writers of America, Inc. She is a member of Lambda Literary Society and Sisters in Crime.
She has written for Journal of Mystery Readers International. Also, she has given numerous campus and coffeehouse poetry readings, as well as taught poetry and creative writing workshops. She graduated from Fort Hays Kansas State University and attended Mexico’s University of the Americas her junior year. She has done graduate work at the University of Colorado.
Kieran lives in the Rocky Mountain Foothills of Colorado with her schnauzer, Clover. She enjoys music, literature, and art. She considers her valuables to include Clover and her other family and friends, her library, her antique typewriter collection, and her guitar.
Additional information is available on her website: http://kieranyork.com or on her Amazon Author’s page at www.amazon.com/author/kieranyork/