“Here are some of the pictures I took the other day when I was on the beach.” She began to pass around the photographs she printed of the different ships in the bay. “Using the marine website, I have found the countries that the ships came from and which port they are traveling to.”
“How come this one has funny writing?”
“That’s Russian. Their language is different from ours and they have a different way to write their alphabet. So the letters on their ship spell the name, but in Russian and not English.”
The children, all excited, passed the pictures around, each guessing what they thought they carried.
“I bet this one has cars on it,” one little boy claimed, smiling a snaggle-toothed grin. “Daddy says all them for-yun cars come on ships from other countries.”
“Oh, I’ll bet this one has toys on it,” another child exclaimed, their eyes wistful at the thought of an entire ship filled with toys.
She laughed, “Well, I haven’t started looking to see if I can figure out what they carry, but I am finding more and more that are traveling to the ports in Norfolk and Baltimore—”
“I been there!” another child said, bouncing up and down. “I went to the aquarium in Baltimore.”
That started another round of excited voices, all clamoring over where they had been. Bringing the lesson back to the ships, she took the pictures of the ships that had circulated and stuck them on the large map on the wall with push-pins.
The bell rang for the children to head to lunch and as the aide lined them up and walked them toward the cafeteria, she hurried to the teachers’ lounge. Twenty-five minutes was not long for lunch, but she was grateful for the chance to have a quiet, although simple, meal with adults.
Just as she arrived, one of the fifth-grade teachers opened the door for her. Bill was a new teacher, his handsome face smiling with a surfer-boy grin as he walked in with her. As she sat and pulled out her sandwich, she watched as he talked to everyone, his flirtatious nature keeping the other teachers entertained. Finishing her sandwich and chips, she stood, glancing at the clock to make sure she had enough time to hustle to the ladies’ room before having to pick up her class.
Bill winked at her as she passed by and she offered a small smile in return. Walking back down the hall, she thought of how, at one time, the idea of dating Bill might have held appeal. But for the past week, the dark, brooding Lance had filled her mind, almost against her will. Shaking her head at the irritating thought, she slammed the bathroom door open.
Well, Lance made it clear…no more sea glass hunting for him…or near him!
Pulling into the harbor parking lot, Jade observed with a smile that she was not the only one out buying fresh fish. Before she could step from the car, her phone vibrated with an incoming call. Looking at it, she sighed, but answered, knowing that to put off the conversation would only make it worse later.
“Hi, mom,” she said, attempting to adopt a carefree tone.
“Jade,” her mother began. “I’m calling to see if you were planning on coming home for Thanksgiving.”
“I…well, I might…uh…”
“Your father and I are planning a cruise, but I told him I would attempt to see if you wanted to join us. His business partner’s family will be going and we thought it would be a nice gesture if you at least made a showing of being with family.”
“Mom—”
“No, Jade. There’s no excuse for this self-imposed exile of yours. And your father has arranged for the son of another business associate to travel with us. He’s most acceptable as an escort for you.”
Sighing, Jade dropped her head, staring unseeing toward the ground. “Mom, I don’t want to take a cruise and certainly not set up with a blind date.”
Silence met her ears and she slowed her steps, knowing what was coming.
“I don’t know how long your father will continue to make these offers, Jade, if you continue to live the way you do—”
“Mom, I’m a teacher, not a prostitute—”
“Don’t be vulgar,” she snapped. “I’ve got to go, but at least think about it. If not for your sake, think of your father.”
Hearing her mother disconnect without saying goodbye, Jade tossed her phone back into her purse. Taking a deep breath, she tried to clear her mind. Continuing toward the docks, she waved at Tori, Jillian, and Katelyn. “Hey, ladies!”
They turned, each waving their greeting. Walking over, she saw Thomas Fedor already on George’s boat so she moved to the Carson’s, stopping at the gangway. Looking at the other women, she asked, “What are y’all getting today?”
“Mom is making her fish pie for Pops tonight and asked me to get some striper for her,” Katelyn grinned.
“Ohhh, fish pie sounds amazing,” Jillian groaned. “Maybe I’ll get some too.”
Tori held her nose as she looked toward George’s boat. “Sorry girls, but I think I’m going to have to pass on the fish today.”
The others looked on in concern, but Tori waved off their fears. “Just morning sickness that lasts all day long,” she bemoaned. “And George’s boat is too much for me to stomach. I’ll go talk to Skip for a few minutes.” Giving out quick hugs, she hurried back to the harbor master’s building.
“Mr. Fedor doesn’t seem to mind the smell,” Jade said, “but I suppose if you run a seafood restaurant, you get used to all the odors.”
“The Carsons’ boat is so much newer,” Katelyn commented, “I guess it hasn’t had time to get all stinky.”
“Has Mr. Fedor already bought from the Carsons?” Jade asked, wondering if they would have anything left for her.
Jillian nodded. “Yeah, he was here before meeting with George’s boat, but don’t worry…he held some back for us.”
As Rick came down the gangway with the fish for the women, Jade waved at Richard, still on deck. He grinned before turning back to his tanks. She could not help but smile at the thought of Ricky joining his dad and granddad in the family business one day. There’s plenty of work to be done and fishing to be had, she thought as she admired the Carsons’ new boat.
The women walked to the Taylor’s crab boat and Jade watched as Katelyn and Jillian bought crabs. Standing to the side, she observed Harold Taylor tossed the crabs into a large pot of boiling water on the dock. Squeezing her eyes closed, she willed the scene from her memory.
“How can you eat crab in a restaurant and not get it fresh?” Harold asked, his smile firmly in place.
Opening her eyes, she wrinkled her nose and replied, “Well, do you think of a slaughterhouse when you order a hamburger?”
“Ugh,” Katelyn blurted, narrowing her eyes at Jade. “Now I’ll have that thought in my mind when I serve lunch today at the pub!”
“How about I occasionally cook and pull out some fresh crab meat for you and then you can just get it here and not have to worry about the prep?” Harold asked.
Eyes wide, she grinned. “Oh, my goodness, yes!”
Walking toward her car, she stopped to talk Skip, still standing with Tori. “Hey, I was just thinking that a field trip to the harbor would be good for my class. We could do it the same day we go to tour the Coast Guard,” she said, pointing to the CG’s small base, just on the other side of the harbor.
“I’d be pleased to have the kids come,” Skip said, his wide smile bright against his tanned face. Weather-worn lines, from sun and sea, creased his face as he pushed his ball cap higher on his forehead. “I love to show off what we have here.”
Making the arrangements to call him as soon as she talked to her principal, Jade walked Tori to her car where the two friends stood for a moment.
“You are such a good teacher,” Tori said, smiling at Jade.
“I just feel like so many of my students don’t get to see some of the wonderful things that go on right here in their hometown. Afterall, that’s one of the reasons I came to this area to teach.”
“And I, for one, am glad you did,” Tori said, with a hug.
As she watched her friend drive away, she smiled. So am I!
Lance stood as Mitch, commander of the local chapter of the American Legion, rapped the gavel on the podium, calling the American Legion meeting to order. He had arrived early to help set the chairs in the meeting room, an act which had not gone unnoticed by Ginny, who usually worked by herself or with Grant, another police officer and Jillian’s fiancé.
She had lifted her eyebrow at him, but he had just shrugged and begun to open the folding chairs, setting them in rows. He could not even explain it to himself, but staying in his house began to feel restricted, so he figured helping was as good as anything to pass the time until the meeting started.
Mitch called out, “The Color Bearer will advance the Colors.”
Brogan, the Sergeant-at-Arms, closed the doors of the meeting room of their new space. Jason, standing in the back with Brogan, marched forward, the American flagpole in his hands, and set it in the floor stand as all eyes focused on the flag.
“The Chaplain will offer prayer.” This month, the Presbyterian minister stood and prayed as the group bowed their heads in unison.
Next was the part of the meeting’s agenda that he hated. The POW/MIA Empty Chair Ceremony. A chair was designated as a symbol of the thousands of American POW/MIAs still unaccounted for from all wars and conflicts involving the United States of America. The POW/MIA flag was placed on the Empty Chair.
He knew every eye was facing the chair, but it felt as though they were watching him as he stared at the chair. That goddamn chair. He knew more than one good soldier that did not come back, but it was the one that haunted his nightmares that had his heart pounding and his palms sweating. A gentle touch on his arm brought him back to the here and now, his eyes jumping to Ginny as she turned her concerned face up toward his.
The meeting continued, Aiden reading the past minutes and Zac reading the treasurer’s report, but he tuned them out as he worked to quiet his thoughts. Before he realized it, Brogan was assisting one of the oldest members to the front, wheeling him in his wheelchair, as Mitch handed the microphone to him. One of the agenda items Mitch had adopted was encouraging AL members to share a story from their time in the service, especially difficult ones. He imagined how hard it was to face the group and share, but appreciated the gesture from the others.
The veteran’s hand, as well as his voice, shook as he held the microphone. “Name’s Dennis. I’m ninety-seven years old. I was a young Lieutenant…Navy…fought in the Pacific...World War II.” He rested a moment, but no one in the room was in a hurry.
Glancing sideways, Lance recognized the same expression on everyone else’s face that was on his own as they listened to him—one of rapt attention.
“Commanded a PT boat…served along with my buddy Jack…you know him as former President John Kennedy.”
At that proclamation, Lance leaned forward, his heart in his throat as he listened.
“We were young…innocent…didn’t know nothin’, although we thought we did. It was easy sometimes…firing them guns off our boats. Watching the Jap’s sink…” Dennis’ wrinkles settled deeper into his face. “That’s what we called ‘em. Japs….and a lot of other names. Most weren’t very nice. I ‘spect some o’ you had names for who you were fightin’ also.”
A few small grins appeared around the room as well as some shifting in seats.
Sighing, he added, “It makes it easier, I suppose, to not think of the enemy as real humans…with families back home wondering about ‘em. If we just gave them a nasty nickname, it made it easier to do what we were told to do.”
Understanding nods now replaced the smiles, as the members’ faces registered the truth in the older vet’s words.
Dennis sat for a moment, his hand holding the microphone resting in his lap. Aiden, closest to him, scooted his chair forward, taking the microphone from his shaking hand and holding it for him, gaining a nod of appreciation.
“Thank you, son. Don’t got the strength I had when I was younger.” His voice now stronger, without having to deal with the microphone, he continued, “Things got rough…sure, we had some pictures taken of us on islands, fishing, hanging together. We got tanned and felt invincible.” Shaking his head, he said, “Young bucks, all of us. Thinking that shooting down other boats was the greatest thing ever.”
After another pause, he said, “But when things get desperate, men do desperate things.”
Lance’s heart was thundering in his ears and he was sure the others could hear it pound. He watched as the memories moved over Dennis, recognizing that despair.
“We’d taken prisoners and transported them to some of the island camps, but,” he shook his head, “we had too many. The last thing our superiors wanted, was live Japanese. Didn’t want anyone to come back and take up arms against us again. So, we were given orders.” He lifted his rheumy eyes toward the gathering of the former military from many different wars and said, “And we followed them orders. Didn’t know anything else to do. Were told to put them in the water and run ‘em down with our boats. If there were Japanese sailors in the water, we ran ‘em down.” Shaking his head, he said, “I can still see it…sixty years later. Bodies…pieces of bodies. A PT boat ain’t that big. So, when we did what we were told…we knew it. Felt it. Saw it. That kind of horror…can steal your soul.”
Sucking in a breath, he added, “No different than a lotta you had to face. We all did what we were told. Saw things no man should ever see. Did things no man should ever do. I’ve lived with it for a long time. Never told my wife. Never told anyone until tonight. But, I spent years making peace with God, so I could live with myself. No one ever told us these things when we joined the service.”
Aiden continued to hold the microphone and, with his other hand, held the old man’s hand as well. Lance knew Aiden as the happy-go-lucky MacFarlane, but at that moment, he could see he was connecting with Dennis, as all of them were.
Finally, Dennis nodded slightly, and said, “That’s all any of us can do with the orders we followed. Make peace with God. And make peace with ourselves.”
As Aiden pushed Dennis back to his place, the crowded room was silent, other than the sound of a few sniffles as people wiped their eyes. Lance felt something on his cheek and lifted his hand, feeling the moisture. Blinking rapidly, he realized it was a tear trailing down his face. With a quick wipe, he leaned back heavily, glancing to the side, thankful Ginny’s gaze was still on the front of the room.
Sliding his hand into his pocket, he felt the card she had given him earlier. The idea of talking to someone about what he experienced scared him more than his nightmares. But then green-eyed Jade came to mind and the hurt expression on her face when he rebuffed her simple offer of sea glass sliced through him. Gripping the card tightly, he knew he would never have a chance to be whole again without help. The chance to have friends. The chance to care. With that thought swirling in his mind, the idea of being around the pretty teacher did not scare him shitless.
7
“Lance? Hell, man, this is an honor,” Aiden declared as many of the American Legionnaires walked to Finn’s Pub after the meeting.
Brogan cuffed Aiden on the back of the head, “Shut up, bro.” Looking over at him, he just gave an approving chin lift.
He nodded in return, appreciating Brogan’s stoic demeanor, not making a big deal about it. He had never gone to an after-meeting, preferring to avoid public gatherings.
Aiden, never losing his grin, opened the door as they arrived and the whole group poured through the door. Heart pounding, Lance stopped just inside, taking in the crowded space. He had never hated crowds earlier in his life—it seemed to develop about the same time the nightmares began. One more thing to talk to someone about when I finally make that appointment. Shaking his head slightly, he walked toward the back where it appeared the group was gathering. Katelyn brought pitchers of beer over and other servers arrived with platters of wings.
It did not take long
to see many of his friends pairing off in their natural couples. Gareth tucked Katelyn underneath his arm as Mitch slid in next to Tori, his hand immediately going to her stomach. Grant’s lips were already on Jillian, and Ginny had found Brogan’s lap.
The others quickly settled all around. Callan and some of his Coast Guard buddies made their way to the dart board, a rousing game ensuing. Aiden checked with the bartenders to make sure everything was in order and then made his way to a table nearby with Jason and Zac, who waved him over, pointing to an empty chair.
Taking it, he nodded at the server who poured him a beer and drank quietly, listening to the multitude of conversations flowing all around as music played in the background. Slowly the nerves decreased as he found that the situation was not as awkward as he always assumed it would be.
Jillian, leaning her head around Grant, asked Lance about some of his artwork she was displaying, Mitch was organizing another beach cookout for everyone, and most of the others were in quiet conversations and checking their phone calendars for Mitch and Tori’s party.
Tori touched his arm and said, “Lance, I hope you’ll come.”
With a short smile, he nodded, “I’ll try.”
He noticed the looks shared amongst the group, intuitively knowing they were stunned at his attempts to be sociable. He heard a roar of cheering from the front and looked up toward the dart game, observing a few women standing nearby, clapping for the winners.
“Belle! Jade!” he heard Callan call out. His gaze shot to the front door, seeing the two women walking in, both wearing huge smiles. Belle was pretty, but it was the dark-haired, green-eyed beauty that snagged, and held, his attention.
Tonight, she was wearing make-up—not heavy, but just enough to illuminate her eyes and giving her cheeks and lips a bright color. And was standing right in the middle of a bunch of single guys. He wanted to look away. Tell himself it did not matter. But he could not—on either account. He continued to stare, uncertain if he wanted her to look over at him and possibly frown when she saw him, or keep her eyes on the dart game where the smile was sure to remain on her face.
Picking Up the Pieces Page 5