Spit and Grit

by Jeanie P Johnson

  He pushes a door open and brings me in. The furniture is covered in dust sheets and Butch puts me on the floor as he pulls the dust sheets off of the bed. Then he goes to a closet and gets some blankets and tosses them over the bed. Butch turns to me and starts to remove my clothes. I stand and let him remove them and then feel him carry me to the bed and lay me down, pulling the covers over me.

  “I’ll come join you later,” he whispers. “I want to sort of put things in order for when we get up in the morning,” he tells me, and then he turns and quietly goes out of the room.

  Later, I feel him crawl in beside me and pull me into his arms.

  “Mazy, love, everything is going to turn out just fine. You wait and see,” he whispers against my hair.

  I remember when Granger used to call me Mazy love all the time when he was sure I was going to end up marrying him. I wish I had those days back again to live all over. I would do so many things different, I think.

  Butch begins to stroke my hair, and it soothes me. I wonder what Randolph is doing? I wonder if he misses me? I wonder if he is making love to other women when he goes to port? I am distracted from my thoughts, as I feel Butch kissing my forehead. I naturally lift my lips to his mouth and then he is kissing my mouth instead. His kiss consumes me, but not enough to make me forget about Granger’s kiss and the way we made love in the branding shack that one last time. Eventually, Butch stops kissing me and we lay in each other’s arms and I fall asleep.

  The sun is shining in my eyes, and when I open my eyes, Butch is no longer in bed with me. I hear the door open.

  “Come take a bath,” Butch says. “This place has running water, and I just stoked the fire in the kitchen stove, so the water is hot enough to use to bathe. While we bathe, the stove will get hot enough to cook breakfast on as well,” he says with a smile.

  Butch comes and picks me up and carries me into the bathroom. He lowers me into a large tub, filled with warm water, and then he takes his robe off and gets in the tub with me. I let Butch wash my hair and then hold me against him, with my back leaning against his hard chest, as he leans against the back of the tub. I think about the time Granger and I used the tub at the hotel together. When the water starts to get cold, he just turns on the tap and puts some more hot water in, and I giggle.

  “I love your tub,” I say.

  “I love you in my tub,” he says back and his hands start to caress my skin.

  I pull away from him and turn facing him. He gives me a little frown.

  “You know that day you fixed breakfast for me when I was in your cabin?” I whisper.

  He raises his eyebrows and nods.

  “That was about the most enjoyable morning I ever spent with you. Only I was mean, about it while you were trying so hard to please me,” I remind him.

  “You wasn’t ready for that kind of thing,” he says quietly.

  “I know,” I sigh. “I just feel bad, because you were being so nice to me, and you were trying to help me forget Granger, and perhaps Randolph. But I can’t forget Granger that easy, Butch. I discovered it when we both went to the branding shack. Our need for each other was too strong. And my feelings for Granger are also wrapped up in my feelings for Randolph as well. I gave up Randolph for Granger. You are putting yourself in a position to get hurt, Butch, and it isn’t fair.”

  Butch looks at me, but he doesn’t respond.

  “We had better go down and eat,” he says at last, “before the fire goes out in the stove.”

  He wraps me in a towel as I step out of the tub and begins to dry me. He looks at my body, as though he wants to eat breakfast off of me. Then he sort of shakes his head and I realize I have already hurt him, and I will continue to hurt him as long as we are together, and Granger is alive. And there is always the chance that I will go back to Randolph. It makes me feel sorry for Butch because he is trying so hard, just like Granger, to get me to fall in love with him.

  Eventually, we get dressed and head downstairs.

  “We’ll eat breakfast, and then we will unload the wagon. I already unloaded the food, this morning while you were still sleeping. Afterwards, we can walk along the beach,” he tells me.

  The morning is spent bringing things in from the wagon and taking all the dust covers off of what furniture Butch had not done the night before. The house and furniture are beautiful and pleasantly decorated. There are at least six bedrooms, two baths, a great hall, a drawing room, kitchen, dining room, canning room, root cellar, washroom, and attic. After Butch gives me a tour of the house, he takes me out on the beach and we begin to walk along the shore. There are no other houses that I can see, so we feel quite secluded.

  “You would be surprised at what washes up on these shores,” Butch tells me. “The current will bring debris all the way from Japan sometimes. I have found pieces of wreckage from ships that have broken up on the reefs, and cargo that has fallen off of ships or floated away when a ship sunk. It is amazing some of the things that you can find, besides just shells and sea life.”

  “That sounds exciting,” I tell him. “When I was on the Blue Dolphin, we hit a terrible storm, the night I lost the baby. I was afraid the ship was going to go down that night. It was quite frightening. The waves were higher than the tops of the masts.”

  “I don’t think I would take to sea life very well,” Butch grins. “I like solid ground under my feet, not to mention a horse to ride. But taking a voyage to some other country might be enjoyable once in a while.”

  “Well, maybe we should go on a voyage together sometime,” I suggest.

  “On our honeymoon?” he asks.

  “You are too sure of yourself,” I say.

  “Don’t worry about me, Mazy, I know the risk I am taking, and if you decide you can never have a honeymoon with me, I will understand,” he smiles, trying to sound reassuring.

  “You’re too nice to me Butch. And you are as patient as Granger was, willing to wait for me for a year, hoping I would change my mind and really marry him. It didn’t turn out with him, Butch. What makes you think it will turn out with you?”

  “I almost hope you are carrying Granger’s baby, so I can make you marry me, Mazy. But I would much rather have you do it willingly,” he says seriously.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I say. “It will be a while before I can even tell. What is that?” I ask, changing the subject. I can see something bobbing out in the water.

  “I’ll swim out and see,” he tells me.

  I watch as Butch swims out with his clothes on, and then he is coming back with something under his arm. It is rather large, and he turns it to show me.

  “She looks like you,” he says, as he shows me the figurehead of a ship. “It must have come off of a ship that sunk,” he murmurs.

  “It’s almost life-size,” I mention as I reach out and touch the glazy eyes of the wooden statue. “Randolph’s ship has a figurehead of a dolphin, not a woman,” I tell him.

  “Well let’s hope we don’t find a wooden dolphin floating in the water,” he mumbles, and we start to walk back towards the house.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  We spend our days doing all those things that Butch claims we would do, once we got to the beach house. The weather starts getting colder and the sea is more restless than ever. Sometimes I sit for hours just watching the waves crashing on the shore, while I think about when I had been on Randolph’s ship. I keep waiting for a letter. Mother writes me, but she never sends any letters from Randolph with her letters. I ask her in one of my letters if anything has come from Randolph, even though I know if it had, she would have sent it to me.

  Sometimes I walk along the shore by myself and pick up driftwood and other things that have washed to shore. A month passes and I start my course. I tell Butch that I am not carrying Granger’s baby and I wonder if it really makes him happy, or not? Now we just have to wait until spring, but if Randolph never writes me, how will I know which month he is coming back? Maybe he never intended to writ
e me, I think. The thought saddens me. I keep looking out at sea, wishing I could see his ship sailing upon the waters outside our window.

  Butch never tries to make love to me, but he is very loving. He is always doing special things for me, bringing me things like starfish he finds washed up on shore that he thinks I would like. He whittles little sea creatures out of wood and we have a whole menagerie along the window seals. At night, he holds me and caresses me, kissing me while he tells me he loves me. He makes me feel safe and secure. He is the best friend I have ever had, I think, but until I can be with Randolph again and know how I feel and he feels, I will not commit to Butch. I don’t think he expects me to either.

  Butch and I work with the filly and she is starting to fill out more. She is going to make a beautiful mare once she is full grown. Another month goes by, and I still have not heard from Randolph. I am beginning to believe he will never write me and I start feeling depressed.

  I take long walks along the shore by myself and Butch watches me from the wrap around enclosed porch because he knows I want to be alone with my thoughts. The smell of the sea brings back memories of the Blue Dolphin and I wish I had never left Randolph’s ship. Granger was already married by then, I lament. I should have remained with Randolph, but it is too late to change things now.

  Driftwood is washing up more and more, now that the weather is rougher and the waves seem to dump a lot more material along the beach. I see something lying in the sand up ahead and at first, I think it is a person that has been washed up, and I catch my breath. When I get closer, I realize it is a big fish and then I see it is a dolphin. I look down at the lifeless body and start to tremble. At least it is not the wooden dolphin that was on Randolph’s ship, I think to myself, but I believe it is some kind of omen. I wish I could bury it or something, but there doesn’t seem to be any way to do it. The tide will come in and wash it back out to the ocean, I think, as I finally skirt around it.

  I am carrying a large basket that I put whatever interesting thing that I find in, and it is filled with shells and wood and other whatnots I have found along the shore. I pass a long piece of wood laying in the sand. It is just a single piece but is rather large and it dawns on me that it must have come off of a ship. I shrug as I sort of kick it over with my toe and start to pass it, and then I pause. There is some writing on the wood. I can barely read it because some of the letters are washed away. Both of the words on the wood are partly broken off in the middle. It reads “ue Dolph” and I start to tremble because it can’t be anything other than Blue Dolphin. The letters are huge, so I know it came off of a ship. I know it came off of Randolph’s ship.

  Is that why he has not written me, I groan to myself? Has his ship sunk? Just because his ship sunk, it doesn’t mean he sunk with it, I think, trying not to lose hope. I wonder if there is any way to find out if it was really the Blue Dolphin that sunk? There must be some sort of newspaper report if it had. The ship companies would know. I start feeling frantic. I can barely pick up the piece of wood, but I do, and I drag it behind me, heading back to the house.

  When I reach the house, Butch is on the porch waiting for me. When he sees me coming up the beach, he comes out to meet me. He has something in his hand, and he is smiling.

  “Look, Mazy, you got some letters from Randolph. Three of them.”

  I stand silent. I drop the basket of sea treasures and the plank with the letters on it. I am afraid to take the letters from Butch’s hand, as he holds them out to me. Then slowly, I finally lift my own hand. Butch’s smile has vanished. He senses something is wrong, but he doesn’t say anything. The letters are clutched in my hand and I put them in the pocket of my dress and walk past Butch, without saying anything.

  I look back. Butch is looking at the wood lying in the sand. He squats down and brushes sand away from the words and then glances up at me. I turn and start running up to the house. I push through the door and run up the stairs until I get to the attic. Then I close the door and lock it. I sit down in a discarded chair that I have pulled up to the window. I just sit there shaking. I am afraid to read the letters.

  Finally, I pull them out of my pocket and turn each one over, looking at them. The first one is dated about a week after I had left the Blue Dolphin. The next one is dated a month later. The last one is dated three months later. By that time I had already gotten home and had made love to Granger in the Branding shack.

  My shaking fingers finally manage to open the first letter.

  My darling Mazy,

  Yes, you are my darling, whom I had to release because you could never be happy on the sea. I listened to you tell the stories of your life at your cattle ranch to the crew and could see how much you needed that kind of life. If I could have kept you, I would have. Your memory will be embedded in my heart forever. At night I dream of the way you lovingly touched me and gave yourself to me. It is all that keeps me alive.

  I hope that you remember me sometimes, even though you are probably happily back in Granger’s arms. Since I realize I could never take his place in your heart, I hope you have at least found contentment at last.

  Lovingly, Randolph

  A tear slides down my cheek and lands on the paper, making the ink run a little, and I read it over and over until I have memorized every word. Then I slide it back into the envelope.

  Now I open the second letter. Something slides out and I see it is a fine gold chain with an ivory dolphin hanging from it. I lift it and place it around my neck. It feels cold against my skin.

  Darling,

  I have delivered my cargo and will be returning to the states as soon as I can reload my ship. I hope you enjoy the trinket I am sending you. When you look at it, think of me.

  Randolph

  I open the third letter.

  Dear Mazy, I have decided to head back to the states early. In another month I should be setting foot on American soil again. I plan to give that cousin of your’s a visit when I return. Hopefully, I should be home before winter sets in. Hoping you are happy and contented. I miss you more than I can express. Your’s as ever, Randolph.

  It is already November, but if the Blue Dolphin went down… I don’t want to think about it. I have to discover if anyone escaped the ship if it did go down? I just don’t know how I am going to do that.

  I hear Butch calling me. He sounds anxious, so I come down from the attic and when he sees me he takes me in his arms and starts rocking me against him.

  “I saw the piece of wood, Mazy. I was frightened. I thought you might…”

  “I’m all right,” I whisper. “Just because the Blue Dolphin might have crashed, doesn’t mean that Randolph went down with the ship. When spring comes, I want to go to New York and find out about it,” I tell him.

  “All right then. I’ll take you myself,” he says, and he gently kisses my lips.

  I get through November, but I stop going along the shore to pick up things that have washed in. No telling what else I might find, I think. The weather is raining, so I stay indoors most of the time, reading or playing cards or chess with Butch. I start learning to embroider when I find a pillowcase that Butch’s mother had started and never finished. It keeps me busy since there are no cows or a ranch to worry about, even though we do have the horses.

  Butch brings in the mail when he returns from town with supplies, and he hands me a long envelope.

  “This came for you. Your mother forwarded it. It’s from New York, but I don’t think it is from Randolph. There is no name on it.”

  I take the envelope from his hand and he watches as I open it. I pull out a long piece of paper. It looks like a check.

  “It’s a check written out to me for five thousand dollars,” I breathe. “My cousin Marvin sent it,” I say in wonder.

  A small piece of paper flutters to the floor. I pick it up and unfold it.

  Cousin Mazy,

  It has been brought to my attention that my actions concerning you could land me in prison. Therefore, I am honoring
your request for the money you claim I owe you. You will be receiving another check for the same amount next year, and every year thereafter, to repay you for the trouble I have caused you.

  Your cousin Martin.

  “He’s alive,” I breath. “Randolph is alive!”

  “Is it from him?” Butch asks. “You said it was from your cousin Martin.”

  “Yes, but my cousin Martin would never have sent me this money unless Randolph had visited him and threatened him about his treatment of me. He told me in his last letter, that he was going to give my cousin Martin a visit as soon as he got back, so I know he is alive!”

  Butch smiles but the smile does not touch his eyes. I know he is happy for me but he is worried that I may go to Randolph. Only I don’t even know where Randolph is and, since it is winter, it would be difficult to make the trip to New York until spring anyway.

  “What do you want to do, Mazy?” he asks softly.

  “Nothing for now. I am just happy to discover he is alive. Come spring, I’ll go to New York and see if he is there. If his ship sunk, he would have to find another ship, but I don’t even know if that is the only ship he owns or not,” I tell him.

  It is only two weeks until Christmas, and I don’t know how I am going to wait until spring to discover if Randolph is even in New York still.

  “My Ma wrote,” Butch tells me, interrupting my thoughts. “She wants us to come there for Christmas. I’m worried though. She tells me that Granger’s wife went into labor early with her child. Both she and the child died, Mazy. Granger isn’t married any longer.”

  I just stare at Butch. I am shocked and I know what he is thinking. He is thinking that even if I don’t go to Randolph, I will probably go back to Granger. Granger never loved Ruth. He won’t rest until he has me, I think. Butch is probably thinking that as well.

  “Let’s stay here,” I whisper. “Give your Ma our regrets. I don’t feel up to traveling in the winter.”

  Butch looks surprised.

  “I thought you would want to see Granger,” he whispers.