by J. M. LeDuc
“Thomas,” Carmelita yelled, “are you going to lose your daughter again?” Her Cuban accent was heavy when she was angry. “If you don’t tell her the truth, I will and then I will leave also.” She sounded more like Ricky Ricardo from I Love Lucy with every word.
Thomas’ shoulders slumped as he looked at the only two people left in his life. With tentative movement, he reached for Sin’s hand. “Sit, please, and I will tell you the truth.”
Sin wasn’t ready to acquiesce. “I have some questions of my own and I want straight answers.”
Thomas nodded.
Sin’s stare bore a hole through him. His look saddened her. He had always been so strong, such a pillar in the community, and he looked so small at this moment. He appeared broken.
She sank back down in the chair as Carmelita refilled their coffee cups.
“Thank you,” Thomas said.
Sin swallowed hard. The weight of the world seemed to be on his shoulders.
I almost miss the pig-headed version, Sin thought.
“When you came in from the porch,” he said, “we were arguing about the conversation I had with Heap yesterday at the hospital.”
“You never did tell me the truth to why he was there,” Sin said.
Her father raked his fingers through his thinning hair. “When did you get so smart?”
“I always was, you just never noticed,” Sin replied.
Thomas wagged his finger at her and his face reddened with embarrassment. “Touché,” he said. “I guess I deserved that one.”
Sin leaned forward and let her long dark hair fall over her face. “It has nothing to do with intelligence, Dad; it’s instinct. I spent the past seven years in places you would never want to see, doing things you would never want to do. I know when someone is trying to deceive me, and I know when someone is not what they seem.” She stared into her father’s eyes. “Jeremiah Heap may have the people of Tumbleboat and the Lower Keys fooled, but he doesn’t have me fooled.” Sin began to lose her calm demeanor. “He is a piece of shit, and he is trying to bully you.”
Her choice of words cut her father. “I would appreciate you not using that language when you are in my home. I might not have been the perfect father, but I know I taught you not to swear.”
“Sorry,” Sin said.
Thomas looked down at the cup of coffee in his hands. There was a slight tremble to the cup and the coffee began to spill. Carmelita slid her hand down his arm toward his hands. There was an intimacy in her touch and the tremble subsided. She took the cup from him and used her apron to wipe the spilled coffee from his hands.
“If you plan on staying, mi hija, then I need to go grocery shopping.” She took Thomas’ chin in her hand and looked into his eyes. “Tell her everything, and then, we will all talk when I get back.”
Thomas closed his eyes and nodded.
Carmelita gathered her things and Maria and was out the door in minutes.
“Smart woman,” Sin said.
“She has been my whole life since Heap took the church.” His voice cracked as he spoke. “She was the only person who stood by me when I told everyone that Heap was a false prophet and a fraud.”
“How could the entire community turn their back on you?”
Thomas clenched and relaxed his hands. He then closed his eyes and shook his head. He opened them, leaned forward, and rested his hands on his knees. “They didn’t turn their backs on me right away; in fact, they stood by me and told Heap to leave.”
“What changed their minds?”
“Heap told them that he had a premonition. An angelic visitation, he called it.” Thomas shook his head in disgust. “He told them that unless the people of Tumbleboat followed him and his ministry that the fishing business would dry up. He told them that the prosperity that they had seen would all disappear.
“I told everyone that God would not let that happen and to stand strong. Two days later, the Tumbleboat Fishing Company closed its doors citing insolvency.”
Sin shook her head. “That company has been in existence for more than fifty years. The fishing has never been better in this part of the Keys and tourism is bigger than ever, how could they cite insolvency?”
“Heap,” was all he said. “I don’t know how, but I know he somehow got to Patrick Smithers, the owner of the fishing company, and had it closed down.”
Sin sighed. “You said earlier that you thought Heap probably owned the company.”
She watched as her father rubbed his arthritic knuckles, It appeared to be the same type of action she had used when trying to scrub another’s blood from her own hands—as if the rubbing would erase the memory.
“I did. It’s the only way that company would close,” her father said. “Through good times and bad, the Smithers’ family has stuck by Tumbleboat and its fishermen. The Tumbleboat Fishing Company took a big hit from the hurricanes over the past few years, but they wouldn’t have closed their doors without Heap pulling the strings.” His eyes drew to mere slits. His demeanor appeared to chill.
“Even if the fishing company closed, all the restaurants in the lower Keys rely on the fishing off of Tumbleboat to make a living. Why didn’t the fishermen just sell straight to them?”
“They tried, but Heap’s influence ran deep. No one would buy anything from the Tumbleboat fishermen.”
Sin sat back down. “I don’t get it. All this so he could pastor a church.”
“In my opinion, Heap didn’t and doesn’t give a hoot about the church. It’s all part of his taking control of this island.”
“Why?” asked Sin. “What is so important about Tumbleboat that he would go to such lengths to control it?”
Thomas shook his head. “I don’t know. At first, I just thought it had to do with his inflated ego, but . . .”
The involuntary tremor increased in proportion to his apparent frustration.
Sin’s heart grew heavy. She reached out and took his hands in hers hoping to still the stormy waters. “Is the shaking a side-effect from the chemo?”
A sad smile emerged on his expression. “I wish.” He looked down at his hands. “Two years ago, I was diagnosed with Parkinson’s. I can usually control it with medication, but I had to stop taking my medication when I began my treatment. The doctors said they lowered my immune system and in order for me to get the most benefit from the chemotherapy, I would have to stop taking my other medications. It gets worse when my stress levels increase.”
A lump formed deep in Sin’s throat. “I’m sorry.”
He looked at Sin as he spoke. “Don’t be. I can take almost anything. I can take the ravaging effects of the drugs they pumped into me, I can take the disease and the fact that even with them I will probably die soon, but I can’t take your pity.”
Sin nodded and slid a cigarette from her pocket. She held it in front of her. “Is it all right if I smoke?”
“Only if you give one to your old man.”
Sin was surprised at his answer. “You? You quit when I was a little girl.”
“I started again after I was first diagnosed with cancer. It didn’t seem to matter to me at that point. The cancer will kill me long before the cigarettes will.”
Sin handed him a smoke and lit it with her pearl colored Zippo.
Taking a deep drag, he sat back and relaxed. “Carmelita doesn’t like it, but she tolerates my indulgence. It would be best if you didn’t mention it. If you do,” he smiled, “she will probably put me over her knee.”
The vision of her father being spanked made her laugh.
“I think I can see who wears the pants in that relationship,” she smiled.
“She wants only the best for me, but she can be hardheaded when she wants to be.”
“Like Mom,” Sin said.
He took another long drag and exhaled. “They are a lot alike.”
“Back to Heap,” she said. “If it isn’t the church, what drives Heap and his actions?”
“I’m not sure. If I had
to hazard a guess, I would say it’s greed.”
“The root of all evil.”
Her father’s mouth curled upward. “I see you haven’t forgotten all of your Biblical training.”
“Some things stay with you,” she responded. “What else can you tell me about him? When I first saw Carmelita, she mentioned something about an orphanage. Does he have his hand in that also?”
Her father snubbed out the cigarette in an ashtray. “To answer your first question, I’ll tell you that he is not a man to be messed with. He may come across as a man of God, but he is a snake―a slimy, slithering snake.” He pointed a finger at Sin. “Stay away from him. Whatever is going on here will be going on long after we’re both gone.”
Sin bit her lip. If you only knew.
“And the orphanage?”
“He built it three years ago.”
“Where is it? I didn’t see it when I rode up and I haven’t seen any sign of it since I’ve been here.”
“Did you notice that the fishing company had a new addition?”
“It’s hard to miss. The building is huge. I saw another, smaller building by the pier here on Tumbleboat.”
Thomas nodded. “When the Tumbleboat Fishing Company built their new facility, Heap had them build an annex. A separate building adjacent to it. Now he claims he’s outgrown the building and wants to construct a brand new one next to his church.”
“Where is his church?”
“Right next to the cemetery.”
“No wonder he wants the property where the plots are,” Sin said.
Her father raised a hand and motioned in front of him like he was reading a marquee. “The Prophet Heap Orphanage for Young Girls.”
Sin’s flesh began to crawl when she heard her father’s words. “Only girls?”
“He told his flock, that’s what he calls his parishioners, that before he settled in the Keys, he had been a missionary in Central America. He told them of the atrocities he had witnessed with the young girls in that region and that God had told him to build a safe haven for them. He made them all sign an agreement that the first ten percent of their income would go straight to the church and the second ten percent would go to establishing and running the orphanage.”
Sin rolled her eyes and sucked in her bottom lip.
“What are you thinking about?”
Sin’s eyes darted toward her father. “How did you know I was thinking about anything?”
He smiled. “You’re always thinking,” he chuckled, “but whenever you are in deep thought, you bite your bottom lip.”
Sin’s eyebrows rose and her lips pouted. “I didn’t know you paid that close of attention to me when I was younger.”
Her father’s shoulders slumped forward. “Sin, I . . .”
She raised her arm to signal stop. “Don’t. I’m sorry, I—that was inappropriate. Let’s stay on topic. I’m surprised to hear that everyone agreed to Heap’s demands.”
“They weren’t given a choice,” Thomas said, “if they didn’t agree and sign the proper documents, their catch would not be purchased by the fishing company.”
“Unbelievable.” She looked at her father and pulled her hair back. “Dad when I was at the hospital last night to sign the paperwork, I saw Troy in the emergency room. He said that a young girl had been found dead, washed up on shore. Does that have anything to do with the orphanage?”
Her father shrugged. “Heap and the chief of police say word of the orphanage has spread throughout Central America. They say that the parents of the girls who can’t afford to feed them, put them in boats or rafts or anything else they can muster up to try to get them here where they can be taken care of. Some of them don’t make it. They have been finding the bodies of the ones that don’t make the trip washed up on the shoreline along the Keys.”
“Your words say one thing, but your body language says another.” She lit another cigarette. “What does your instinct tell you?”
He was about to answer when there was a knock on the front door.
“Anyone home?” It was Troy’s voice.
Sin remembered inviting Troy for lunch. “We will continue this conversation later,” she said as she stood to answer the door. Before she did, she whispered. “Is Troy a member of his church?”
Her dad shrugged. “Not sure, he told me that he had been meaning to go―to check it out, he even asked my permission.”
“Your permission, why?”
“He said it was a matter of respect.”
Sin’s respect meter rose a bit higher as she opened the front door.
He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a Guy Harvey tee-shirt. He held a bouquet of flowers in his hand as he walked in. White roses. He handed them to her saying, “A welcome home present,” he said, “and a white flag of truce.”
She arched her eyebrows.
“I was kind of hoping for a fresh start.”
She took the flowers and said, “It will take a lot more than some flowers to wipe the slate clean.”
His smile disappeared.
“But it’s a nice beginning,” she smiled. “Dad is in the den. Go say hello and I’ll put these in some water and start lunch.”
“Troy, nice of you to stop by,” she heard her father say as she walked into the kitchen.
“Sin invited me for lunch,” Troy replied. “I guess she forgot to tell you.” He said it loud enough for Sin to hear him.
“I didn’t forget,” she called back from the other room. “I just didn’t think you would have the balls to show up.”
“Sin, your language,” her father said.
She rolled her eyes as she began pulling things from the fridge. She listened to their conversation as she made hamburger patties. “If one of you will start the grill, I will make us a salad,” she yelled.
She watched as Troy stepped out back and lit the gas grill.
She quickly made a salad and brought the plate of burgers and a bottle of beer outside. “Here,” she said, “make yourself useful and cook these while I set the table.”
Troy took the plate. “I thought you were making me lunch?”
Sin looked down at the plate. “I did. Now, if you want them cooked, that’s another story.”
Troy’s chest and shoulders rose and fell with laughter. “Always a ball buster,” he said.
“Yeah well, I remember how much you used to boast about your barbequing skills. It’s time to prove it.”
As she turned to walk back inside, she felt his eyes following her. She turned her head and glanced at him. “Stop undressing me with your eyes and start cooking.”
He laughed. “You do look good.”
She turned and walked into the house. “Damn right, I do.”
“That’s an understatement,” he mumbled.
“I heard that,” she said.
Thirty minutes later, the three of them sat at the picnic table on the porch to eat. Sin was about to take a big bite of her burger when her father cleared his throat.
“A lot has changed since you’ve been gone,” he said, “but, we still say grace before eating. That hasn’t changed.”
He spread his arms out to his side and had them hold hands as he offered a prayer of thanks.
After lunch, her father looked exhausted.
“Dad, why don’t you go rest while Troy and I clean up.”
He was slow to stand. Weaker than he was earlier. “I think I will,” he sighed. “That will give the two of you a chance to catch up.”
Troy stood and helped her father up the stairs to his room.
Sin watched as he walked by her father’s side. She noticed his genuine concern for her dad. Maybe people can change, she thought.
12
Troy joined Sin on the porch after he helped her dad to his room. He saw her watching the fishing fleet with her binoculars.
“See anything interesting,” he said.
“Lots,” she responded.
“Such as?”
Sin pointe
d to the fishing fleet. “I’m amazed at the amount of boats in the water off of the island. What’s your take on the Tumbleboat Fishing Company and Heap’s involvement?”
Troy cracked open another beer and handed one to Sin. “You don’t mess around, do you?”
“A product of military life, I guess.”
He waited for her to say more, but she put the bottle to her lips, drank, and stared at him.
“I haven’t been back here that long myself, but from what I’ve witnessed and from what everyone tells me, Heap is the primary owner of the company. You either abide by their charter or you don’t sell your catch.”
“And this is legal?”
Troy took another swig. “Afraid so,” he said.
Sin squinted and cocked her head to the side. “They get paid that well that they would sign away their independence? That doesn’t sound like the men I knew.”
“That’s where it gets a little fuzzy,” Troy answered. He joined her at the porch railing and leaned forward.
He noticed her gaze trail down to the tattoo on his right bicep—an orange and green U, the University of Miami insignia.
Troy overlooked it and kept talking. “When they first signed, they were being paid exorbitant prices. Over the past year, the price of their catch has steadily diminished.”
“And nobody has said anything?”
He looked in her direction, eyes squinting to keep the afternoon sun out. “They’re scared shitless, Sin.”
She was leaning over the rail which further emphasized her curves. Her hair was hanging free, partly covering her face.
“Damn, you look good.”
“Back off, Romeo and keep talking. That bullshit line would probably work on the rest of the women in the Keys, but you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
The right side of Troy’s lips curled up into a sly smile as he brought the bottle to his lips. “They figure some money is better than none.”