A Song for the Asking

by Steve Gannon

  “Screw you, amigo.”

  “Same to you, pard. Let’s get this thing moored.”

  Milt’s Zodiac towed them to the small float Kane had placed offshore the preceding weekend. As the rubber boat held the raft in position, Kane slipped on his swim goggles and dived in. Descending through the cool water, he followed the float line forty feet down to the iron wheel. Once there he partially cleared the axle hole, then rose to the surface, took several gulps of air, and descended again with the length of galvanized chain, allowing its weight to carry him to the bottom. Although he was able to use the float line to pull the chain through the hole, it took four more dives to secure the mooring hawser and twist the shackle shut. Kane’s breath was coming hard when he finally crawled back onto the raft.

  “That’s it?” asked Arnie, eyeing Kane’s house a hundred yards up the beach. “I thought you were going to park this thing closer to home.”

  “You thought right,” said Kane, unlashing the come-along winch from the deck. “We’re gonna move the wheel.”

  “With that?” asked Arnie, glancing doubtfully at the metal winch. “How?”

  “Simple. Here, gimme a hand.”

  After again entering the water, Arnie and Kane secured the winch to one of the central beams on the underside of the raft. Then, while Arnie attempted to avoid banging his head as the raft rolled and pitched above him, Kane swam the steel winch cable down and attached it to the anchor chain. Next, working from beneath the raft, both men took turns pumping the winch lever. Slowly, the cable tightened. Before long, supported by the raft above, the massive iron wheel began skipping along the bottom, stirring up clouds of sand, coming to rest, then lifting once more as Kane and Arnie gradually ratcheted it up. When the wheel hung suspended well above the ocean floor, Kane locked off the winch, gave Arnie the thumbs-up, and together they climbed back onto the deck.

  Milt’s rubber Zodiac still had the raft under tow. At Kane’s signal, Milt twisted the throttle on his small outboard. The engine roared. Slowly, rising and falling on the passing swells, the small boat lumbered up-current, trailing the raft in a cloud of pale-bluish smoke.

  Five minutes later they arrived at a point several hundred yards directly out from Kane’s house—far enough from the beach to be safe from storm surf, yet still a reasonable swim. After studying the waves, Kane had Milt move them a little farther out to allow for the length of the mooring line. Then he again slipped over the side, ducked under the raft, and released the winch. The wheel dropped silently to the bottom. Two quick dives freed the winch cable, and the raft was anchored.

  After retrieving the come-along winch, Kane climbed from the water for the last time. He glanced shoreward. By now the launching party had lost interest and dispersed—all except Nate, whose small figure still sat watching from the sandy berm.

  “Done?” Arnie asked hopefully, his teeth chattering.

  “You cold, partner? I’d think with all that blubber you’re carrying you’d be warm as toast.”

  “Up yours. I’m not half fish like you.”

  “Temper, temper,” laughed Kane, untying the 2x4 ladder lashed to the deck. “Here, help me with this. Once it’s bolted, we’ll head in for a hot shower and some warm clothes.”

  Relieved from the necessity of holding the raft in position, Milt eased the Zodiac alongside and tossed over his bowline. “Anyone care for a beer?” he asked, reaching under the seat and pulling out a six-pack.

  Arnie tied Milt’s line to one of the raft beams. “Good man!” he said with a grin.

  Once the boat was secure, Kane grabbed the six-pack, along with a wrench set he had stowed earlier on the Zodiac. “Arnie, Milt. Milt, Arnie,” he said, passing each a beer but refraining from taking one for himself.

  “Pleased to meet you, Arnie,” said Milt, stepping onto the pitching deck. A wiry man in his late thirties with straight black hair and a quick smile, he stood nearly as tall as Kane, though not as heavily built. “You a cop, too?”

  Arnie popped his beer, spraying warm foam over the deck “Yep,” he said. “Close to twenty-five years. Been partners with Kane here a good many of them, sorry to say.”

  “Hell, Arnie,” said Kane. “Every one of those years has been pure pleasure, basking in the warmth of my sunny personality.”

  “Sunny? Is that what you call it? Personality disorder is more like it.”

  “Twenty-five years, huh?” said Milt, lifting the tab on his own beer and christening the deck in turn. “You have to be pretty close to drawing a pension.”

  Arnie shot a quick look at Kane. “Yeah, pretty close,” he said. “Surprising for a youngster like me, huh?”

  “You’ve still got a few good years left,” said Kane. “It’s not time to pull the plug yet,” he added, selecting a three-eights socket from the wrench set and bending to the task of securing the ladder.

  Milt knelt beside him to hold the wooden uprights in place as Kane began tightening the bolts. “You have any kids?” Milt asked, still addressing Arnie.

  “Nope,” answered Arnie regretfully. “My wife … my ex-wife and I never did. She had a career, and we kept putting it off. Before we knew it, it was too late.” He hesitated, deciding not to mention that Lilith had recently left him after twenty years of marriage for a real estate salesman.

  “You want kids, take a couple of mine,” offered Kane.

  “Don’t think I wouldn’t. I’d do it in a heartbeat,” said Arnie. Looking shoreward, he noticed Nate jumping to his feet as he saw his mother approaching from the house. “Those kids of yours are real pistols, too,” he added, glancing at Milt. “Nancy and McKenzie?”

  “Uh-huh. The whole crew did a fine job today,” said Milt. “I’m glad I was out here, though. Some of those waves were huge. After that first attempt, I was relieved to see on the next try that you kept everybody on the beach.”

  Kane continued ratcheting the ladder bolts, moving from one to the next without looking up. “Yeah, well, I should have made sure they stayed there the first time,” he said guiltily. “Things got away from me.”

  Milt chugged the rest of his beer and tossed the empty into the Zodiac. “Want a beer, Dan?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “I’ll take another,” said Arnie, grabbing a fresh can. “You about done, pard? I think Kate wants you for something.”

  Kane cranked down the final bolt and looked shoreward. Unable to make herself heard over the surf, Catheryn was standing on the beach waving her arms. When Kane waved back, she pantomimed picking up a telephone and holding it to her ear. Then, with a sweeping gesture, she signaled them to come in. Kane pointed to himself. Catheryn shook her head. Next Kane pointed to Arnie, eliciting a positive response.

  “Looks like you have a phone call, Detective Mercer,” Kane said, passing Arnie the wrench he’d been using, along with the come-along winch. “Tell you what. Go ahead and ride back with Milt. I’ll swim in after I’ve given everything here one last check.”

  “Sounds good to me. See you onshore.”

  “Hey, Milt,” Kane said to McKenzie’s father as he and Arnie boarded the Zodiac. “Thanks for your help.”

  “My pleasure. See you at the party next weekend.”

  An experienced boat handler, Milt waited for a lull in the sets, making it through the waves to shore without dumping the Zodiac. Kane watched from the raft as they ran the rubber boat up on the sand. He smiled as he saw Nate race down to assist. Arnie spoke briefly to Catheryn, then hurried to the house. Again turning seaward, Catheryn waved for Kane to come in.

  Kane made one final appraisal of the newly moored raft. After deciding everything was in order, he pulled on his swim goggles and dived into the water. Once he had swum to a point just outside the cresting swells, he, too, waited for several sets before choosing a wave. Then sprinting for shore, he caught a six-footer and stayed with it, riding the foam all the way in. Catheryn and Nate were waiting on the sand when he arrived.

  “Damn, Kate, you look absolute
ly gorgeous in that dress!” said Kane as he waded from the surf, resolutely attempting to put Friday night’s disagreement behind them.

  Catheryn smiled. “Think so, huh?” she said, also making the effort.

  “Yep,” said Kane, trying to snare her in his dripping arms. “That has to be one of my favorites.”

  Catheryn had just returned from her chamber-group practice. Except for removing her shoes, she hadn’t changed before coming out on the beach, and she still had on a flowered sundress that amply displayed her tanned legs and arms. “Play your cards right, and maybe I’ll let you borrow it sometime,” she laughed, deftly sidestepping her husband’s wet embrace. “I see you got the raft out,” she added. “Good work, especially considering the surf.”

  “Dad was great,” said Nate. “You should have seen him and Arnie paddling it through the waves.”

  “I can imagine,” said Catheryn. Then, with a puzzled expression, “Who helped you launch it?”

  “All us kids helped,” Nate explained proudly. “Even me. He couldn’t have done it without us. Right, Dad?”

  “That’s the God’s truth,” said Kane, ruffling Nate’s already tousled hair. “You should have been there, Kate. Actually, maybe it’s better you weren’t,” he added with a grin, making one last abortive try for a hug. Finally giving up, he asked, “Who phoned?”

  “Someone named Moro from the department. It sounded important.”

  “Hey, Dad?”

  “Just a second, Nate.” Kane regarded his wife. “Did he say what it was about?”

  “No.”

  “I have a feeling it’s important,” said Kane, starting for the house.

  “Dad?”

  Kane turned. “What, Nate?”

  “I can’t find Sammy. I looked everywhere.”

  “I did, too,” said Catheryn. “When I got home and he wasn’t on the beach, I checked the kitchen, the bedrooms, even the music room. I couldn’t find him anywhere.”

  Kane glanced away. “I was going to tell everyone at dinner tonight,” he said quietly. “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it. Sam’s gone. His legs were so bad this morning, I … I took him to the vet. He was in a lot of pain. It was his time. I thought it would be easier for everyone this way.”

  Stunned, Nate and Catheryn stared at Kane.

  “No! Not yet,” cried Nate as his father’s words sank in. “Please, Daddy. I’ll give him his medicine from now on, I promise!”

  “Nate …”

  “I won’t forget anymore,” Nate declared, his voice fierce with determination. “I promise! Just give me one more chance.”

  “It wasn’t that, Nate.”

  “Please, Dad.”

  Kane shook his head, not knowing what to say. Slowly, he started again for the house. Nate trailed behind, tears welling in his eyes. “Please, Dad.”

  Catheryn caught up and tried to place a comforting hand on Nate’s shoulder. He shook it off. “Honey, it’s not because you forgot to give him his pills,” she said.

  “Dad, please …”

  Kane turned and looked down. Nate stared back, his cheeks wet, his eyes filled with pleading. “Nate, I’m sorry,” said Kane. “Sam’s gone. It was his time to go.” He knelt tried to take Nate’s hands in his. Nate yanked them away.

  “Please give me one more chance.”

  “Listen to me, Nate,” said Kane, his voice thick with emotion. “Sam’s gone. He’s not with us anymore. Understand?”

  “It’s not fair! Sammy was my dog, too!”

  Arnie appeared on the upper deck, a portable phone from the kitchen still in his hand. “That was Moro,” he yelled down.

  “What did he want?”

  “CRASH thinks they have a line on that Trans Am we’ve been looking for. We’ve gotta go.”

  “Be right there.” Kane stood and looked down at Nate once more. “Sam’s gone,” he repeated softly. “I’m so sorry, Nate. I have to go. We can talk about this later.”

  Nate stood rooted to the sand, his shoulders racked with silent sobs. “I hate you!” he called after his father’s retreating figure. Kane hesitated in midstride, as if he had been struck. Then he continued on, his feet mechanically churning the sand.

  Catheryn clenched her hands in frustration and anger, watching as Kane departed. Then, with a sigh, she gently placed her arm around Nate’s shoulders. This time he didn’t shake off her embrace. “You don’t mean that,” she said.

  Nate watched as Kane stepped over the seawall and crossed the deck to the house. Hot, bitter tears streamed down his face. “Yes, I do,” he said softly.

  That night the family ate a somber dinner without Kane. Nate remained in his room, maintaining that he wasn’t hungry. Later that evening Catheryn climbed the ladder in the entry and knocked on the trapdoor in the ceiling.

  “Go away!”

  Catheryn tried the door. It rose slightly, then stopped. Nate had it hooked shut on the other side.

  “Nate? Let me come in. Please.”

  Catheryn heard the clasp release. She flipped open the door and climbed the final rungs, finding Nate lying on his bed staring out the window. Still holding the ladder, she swung in her legs and let the hatch close beneath her. Then, without speaking, she knelt beside the bed. Resting her forearms on the mattress, she gazed with Nate out the window.

  Set above the rest of the house, Nate’s airy room afforded an unobstructed view of the beach below. A westerly breeze had started streaming off the land at sundown, holding up the waves and making the surf seem even larger. In the failing light Catheryn could just make out a small square object two hundred yards offshore, tossing and rolling on the swells.

  Finally she spoke. “Nate, your father loved Sam, too.”

  “No, he didn’t! If he had, he wouldn’t have killed him.”

  “Oh, honey, I know you’re feeling terrible right now, but you know that’s just not true.”

  Nate stared out the window.

  Catheryn tried to take his hand. He jerked it away. Catheryn took it again, holding it firmly. “Look at me, Nate. I have something to tell you.”

  Nate turned, fixing red, defiant eyes on his mother. He looked down quickly, unable to hold her gaze.

  “I want to tell you something about your father and Sam,” said Catheryn. “There are a few things even you don’t know.”

  “I don’t care!”

  “Well, you’re going to hear them anyway.” Catheryn took a deep breath and continued. “Your father and that dog go back a long way, back before you were born. Every morning for over a year when we first got Sam, your father got up early before going to work, training him to hunt. And each fall after that until Sam turned eleven, those two left on a hunting trip, all by themselves—Canada for Hungarian partridge, sharp-tailed grouse, and geese; Idaho for sage hen and ducks, Montana and South Dakota for pheasant. Our freezer used to be crammed full of all the game they brought back. Your dad claimed Sam was one of the finest gun dogs he’d ever hunted with.

  “Once Sam accidentally caught some shotgun pellets. He nearly died. Your father stayed at the vet’s with him all that night. He didn’t sleep, just sat with Sam even though he couldn’t do anything to help. The only time I’ve ever seen him like that was when one of you kids got sick, really sick. And when Sam grew too old to hunt, rather than get a new dog, Dan quit hunting, too. Your father not love that dog? You couldn’t be more wrong.”

  “Then why did he kill him?”

  “He didn’t want to. Sam was old. His arthritis had grown so bad he couldn’t walk, and he was in severe pain a lot of the time. Keeping him alive wasn’t doing him a kindness. Your father did what had to be done.”

  “But Sammy was my dog, too. I never even got to say goodbye.”

  Catheryn brushed a thatch of hair from Nate’s forehead, then gently lifted his chin and looked into his eyes. “I know, honey. And that was wrong. Your father was probably trying to protect you from the pain you’re feeling right now. He just went
about it the wrong way.”

  “Protect me? That’s a laugh,” said Nate bitterly.

  “Yes, protect you,” said Catheryn. “If he could, your father would gladly stand between you and all of life’s hurts, and so would I. But that’s not possible. I wish it were, but it’s not.” Catheryn hesitated, then went on. “Listen, honey. Ever since you were little, when something bad happened, I’ve been telling you that everything would be all right. But sometimes, as much as we want it, that’s not true. Sometimes things happen from which no one can protect us, terrible things, things that hurt. It’s part of life. It’s part of being alive. Do you understand?”

  “I understand that Dad doesn’t care how I feel.”

  “Yes, he does. More than you know. Your father isn’t perfect, but we’re the most important things in his life, all of us—you, me, Allison, Tommy, and Travis.”

  “He doesn’t act like it.”

  “He tries, but he doesn’t always know how to show it.”

  Turning from his mother’s gaze, Nate again stared out the window.

  “Your father loves us, Nate. He would be lost without us. Deep down you know that, don’t you?”

  Nate remained silent.

  “Nate?”

  Finally, in a small, tremulous voice, he answered. “I know, Mom,” he said, burying his face in his mother’s sweater. “I know.”

  Catheryn stroked her son’s hair as an invisible dam burst inside him at last. And she held his shaking body close and whispered the old lies once more, willing them to be true, at least for him, telling him that things would be all right … everything would be all right.

  Part Two

  13

  Saturday, July 3. Hands clasped behind his back, Kane surveyed preparations for the party with a practiced eye. Although certain he had overlooked nothing, he also realized that no amount of forethought could chart the celebration’s final outcome, as he had always considered the execution of his annual Fourth of July bash something akin to rolling a boulder down a mountainside. You could prepare all you wanted—clearing obstacles, anticipating problems, and attempting to predict the ultimate direction the event would take—but past some point a massive, irresistible inertia finally and irreversibly claimed ascendancy. After that all you could do was stand back and watch.