Of Sea and Cloud

by Jon Keller

  A half mile ahead of him he could see the small wharf with its single light bulb hanging from an old wooden post. A lean-to hut was built on the float below. Inside the lean-to was a single stool and a scale for weighing crates of lobsters and a shelf stacked with rusted wrenches and dirty gloves. The seawater around the wharf and float shifted in the light and as Jonah approached he could make out the familiar and comforting shape of the bait house with its swayback roof and rotted cedar shake siding.

  He tied off to the float and climbed the ladder beneath the light. His gloves stuck to each wooden rung and he heard them peel back the chilled yellow herring grease as he climbed. Rusted and broken lobster traps and dirty bait buckets and fish totes and coils of rope were piled haphazardly around the wharf and Jonah had the fleeting childhood memory of afternoons spent jigging for mackerel with his brother and mother while they waited for Nicolas to return from a day on the water.

  • • •

  Snow banks lined the road and the village was dark save for a few porch lights shining orange on the snowpack. He walked down the center of the empty road. The birches lining Virgil’s driveway stood white and still. Virgil’s truck and Celeste’s car were both parked in the driveway but Charlotte’s car was not. Its absence hit Jonah like a swallowed stone.

  He stepped into the yard and stood beneath her window. Her bedroom was dark. He shivered. His breath rose into the night and he reached for his cigarettes and all of the calmness he’d accumulated over the last week disappeared. He felt occupied by vacancy. He heard Chowder bark. He lit a cigarette. He wondered what he was doing. He packed a small circle in the snow like walls to hold him and he watched Charlotte’s dark window as if hoping she would let her hair down but instead the door opened and Celeste peered into the darkness. She wore a short sleeve shirt and a red and white striped apron. The dog kept barking.

  Jonah said, Celeste. It’s me.

  Jonah, she said. What are you doing? Come inside.

  He crossed the lawn and stamped the snow from his boots and stepped onto the porch. She pulled him in by the arm and shut the door. The house smelled like heat and like sugar. He hadn’t been there since his father’s service and despite Charlotte’s absence it was comforting to be there now. He kicked his rubber boots off.

  How are you?

  I’m good, Celeste. Fine.

  He stood with his back tight to the door. His cigarette burned in his fingers.

  Come in, she said. Virgil’s in the kitchen.

  Jonah heard classical music as he followed Celeste down the hallway. He looked into the living room and up the staircase for Charlotte but she was not there.

  Virgil turned on his stool when they entered the kitchen. Jonah. I thought you’d run off on us.

  Virgil looked like he’d aged years in the last week. His back was stooped and his skin was loose as clam meat. His eyes were sallow and cavernous. Jonah put his hand on Virgil’s shoulder in an awkward one-arm hug then stepped back.

  Good to see you, Jonah said. He felt like he was visiting Virgil in a hospital room though the room itself was warm and comfortable and smelled like ginger and sugar.

  Celeste’s making us some Christmas cookies here, Virgil said. We were aiming on bringing a batch out to camp for you.

  I forgot it was even Christmas coming up, he said.

  Sit down, Jonah, Celeste said. Do you want a beer or something?

  Give him the gorilla milk. He needs it.

  I think you’ve had enough for everybody, Celeste said. She took a beer out of the refrigerator. Maybe he’ll listen to you, Jonah. Look at him. He looks like he got run over by a truck, doesn’t he?

  A little bit, Jonah said and tried to laugh as though it would be an apology.

  Virgil scoffed. The hell with you both.

  Celeste tipped the mixer up and wiped the blades with her finger. It’s that brandy he sucks on like he’s a tiger.

  Gorilla.

  The Captain hates gorillas, Jonah said. He sipped his beer. He had the feeling that something had happened between Virgil and Celeste but he couldn’t figure out what it was or why he felt that way.

  The Captain’s been knuckle-dragging and mouth-breathing all over town, said Virgil. He ain’t right. They’re taking lobsters out of the pound in the morning. Him and Osmond.

  Celeste disengaged the mixer blades and held one out to Jonah. Do you want that?

  Jonah took the blade and cleaned it with his finger and licked his finger then began on the blade itself.

  Virgil rocked on his stool. You don’t hear shit out there at camp. You saw Nic’s boat on its mooring. The Coasties finally gave that back. You’ll be wanting to sell the Jennifer and use the Cinderella.

  I don’t know, Jonah said. He wondered how it was that he hadn’t even noticed his father’s boat.

  And the wharf is up for sale, Virgil said.

  What? The wharf? Benji’s going to sell? Holy shit.

  He ain’t been well, Jonah. I visited him today.

  Benji ain’t been well for years. But sell the wharf? He can’t do that.

  He’s dying, Jonah. He can’t get up, can’t piss, can’t eat, can’t do a thing but be a peckerhead like he’s always been. He says he wants to see the wharf go before he’s dead. He doesn’t care about the fishermen or the harbor anymore. Says that’s what gave him the cancer. Now he wants it to go before he goes.

  Why would it be so bad if it sold? Celeste said. What else is going to happen to it?

  Would it be bad to get bought up by one of these Boston conglomerates? Christ yes, it’ll be bad. Sell it to a local outfit.

  There aren’t any local outfits.

  Sure there are. Their pockets just aren’t as deep. The big money guys are buying wharves up and down the coast. If they own the wharves, then they’ll own the fishermen. Then we get pushed out.

  They ain’t going to buy all the wharves, Jonah said.

  The hell they ain’t, Jonah. Look around you. Look down the coast a hundred miles. What do you see? You see a handful of outfits buying everybody and everything up. When they get enough wharves then they control the price. Then we’re fucked.

  We’re already fucked, Jonah said. He sipped his beer and held the mixer blade in the air. He tried to imagine the wharf being run by some company out of Boston or New York but it seemed ridiculous. A small harbor wharf was the center of family and community and he recalled only an hour ago climbing the wharf ladder and thinking about his mother and his brother and his father. He said, But the price is supply and demand, just like anything. You said so yourself.

  Virgil grunted. It is for now. But that’s what the big boys want to change. They want to control the price. That’s when the lights go out. They did it with shrimp in the Gulf and they did it with crab in Alaska and over and over again. All the fisheries are fucked. We’re the last one, damn near.

  Celeste went to the counter and flopped the ball of dough out of the mixer and onto a breadboard.

  Jonah pushed his seat back and crossed his legs. I’d hate to see it gone but who’s gonna buy it? Hell, it’ll cost half a million just to clean her up.

  Virgil shifted his weight. I’ll tell you who it is but you don’t go telling a soul.

  If it’s a big secret I don’t need to hear it.

  Virgil ignored him. I’ll tell you but don’t go whistling it into the Captain’s ear either.

  I won’t. You going into the bait trade?

  You’ve heard the name Jason Jackson.

  I heard of him. He bought from the old man and Osmond.

  Virgil nodded. A rogue outfit is what Jason is. He’s not aligned with any of the big seafood buyers. He works on his own. Jason’s a ruthless sonofawhore but at least he understands quality. So guess who’s cozy with Jason Jackson?

  Erma Lee Carver?

  Virgil’s eyes crimped and his face went suddenly red. When he spoke his voice had turned hard. Shut up, Jonah. I’m trying to teach you something but you’re too goddamned fool
ish. Your damned father’s dead and you still sit there making kid jokes. Get yourself together.

  Fuck, said Jonah and lit another cigarette. His chest began to lurch and his knees shook and he felt as though Virgil had sucker-punched him. It took a while for him to respond and even then his voice wasn’t as strong as he wished. Together like you, Virgil? Drunk by dawn type of together?

  Okay, Celeste said. Tell him what you want to tell him, Virgil. And Jonah, he’s right. It’s high time you took something seriously. And Virgil, he’s right. You’ve been nothing but drunk and mean lately. And you are worrying me.

  Jonah watched the grease-blackened etchings on his own thumb and forefinger as he twisted the brown cigarette filter back and forth. He drew on the cigarette and concentrated. He felt a choking in his throat and heat in the backs of his eyes. His face burned with embarrassment. He knew Virgil was right but still wanted to say, You don’t know me, but if he spoke his voice would fall apart.

  He began to push his chair back but Virgil sighed and dropped his shoulders and spoke. I’m sorry, Jonah. It’s fine. This is hard on all of us. We all have to deal with our pain. I drink and you make jokes. Finest kind. Virgil cleared his throat and held his drink up in a short silent toast. What’s going to happen is this. Jason Jackson and Osmond Randolph are going to buddy right up. Mark my words. Jason’s bought from the pound for years now. He’s going to drop the money and buy out Benji so they’ll have the wharf and pound both. You wait. They’ll run this harbor and it won’t be long till they get even bigger.

  So if Jason Jackson and Osmond work together, they’re not going to want Bill around, is that what you’re saying? That’s what you keep worrying about?

  Virgil’s eyes narrowed and his voice turned low. The price of lobsters goes up twenty-five cents in Japan and your father gets killed is what I’m saying. Some clamfuck restaurant chain in Tokyo decides to put lobster on their lunch menu and our world shifts like someone slapped the Jell-O is what. They call Jason Jackson, he sees an opportunity and he calls Osmond and Osmond sees an opportunity. But your father doesn’t like that shit so all of a sudden he’s in the way. Bam.

  Killed? Christ, Jonah said and looked away from Virgil but something slowly dawned on him. There was a moment of silence before he spoke. You think Osmond killed the old man?

  Virgil stared like a snake black-eyed.

  You think Osmond wanted to go into business with Jason Jackson but the old man didn’t? So Osmond killed him for the pound? That’s fucking crazy, Virgil. Osmond’s a asshole but he ain’t that bad. Besides, the Captain’s gonna get his half of the pound and he wouldn’t go for something the old man wouldn’t of gone for anyway.

  Osmond ain’t that bad? He thinks he talks to God.

  Celeste turned to Virgil and her face was filled with disgust. Well you think you are God. Lots of people think they talk to God. That doesn’t mean they’re murderers. And the price of lobster in Tokyo, Virgil? My God.

  She squeezed her fingers together with her hand as if she’d lost the flow of blood. She said, You may think all of the insane thoughts you want, but do not, and I mean do not, speak them out loud.

  Virgil ignored her but he looked pained. He said, Osmond damn near killed his brother and would’ve if I hadn’t of caught the sonofawhore.

  That’s not true and if it was true it’s still irrelevant, she said.

  The hell it’s not true. Virgil turned to Jonah. I told you before, about Osmond and Laura. She was his brother’s wife. Julius’s grandmother.

  I remember.

  Celeste spoke up. Osmond isn’t such a bad man, Jonah. He’s just different, and maybe a little creepy, but that’s not for us to judge. He’s good to his grandchildren, and I promise you that there are plenty of men around here that would not be so good to theirs. Anyway, Osmond fell in love with Orrin’s wife while Orrin was over in Korea. Orrin is his brother. Osmond left the church for her but she went back to Orrin when Orrin came home. Orrin had been injured in the war.

  So Osmond goes ratshit batshit, Virgil said and fluttered his fingers in the air. He gets thinking the heavenly Lord’s sitting on both his shoulders, and he beats all hell out of Orrin and takes baby Neveah Elaine for his own. Beat the shit right out of his own fucked-up war vet brother. I mean beat him to a pulp, Jonah. So I’m over buying boat parts when Laura comes screaming that Osmond killed Orrin, Osmond killed Orrin. And I end up damned near breaking Osmond’s neck so Laura can take her kid back. The only reason I got the drop on the big bastard is he was holding that baby Neveah so tight with both arms that I could just latch myself right around the bastard’s neck. And he was big then but he was damned close to unconscious by the time he started struggling. Hell, I was only a teenager or something and that there’s why me and him don’t take to one another. I’d of killed him too and I well should’ve.

  Why didn’t you? Celeste said but she didn’t want an answer.

  Mercy. That’s why. I had mercy on the whoreson.

  Celeste turned back to her cookies and no one spoke. The deep thrum of the cello on the radio filled the room. Virgil made circles on the table with the condensation from his glass. Everything that had been said slopped around the room like tank water and every once in a while the water overtook Jonah. He tried to follow Virgil’s logic but all that he could believe was that his father had been pulled overboard like thousands of fishermen before him and thousands of fishermen after him and of course it was tragic but tragic was all it was. Anyone who paid attention knew that big business was taking over fishing just like it had everything else. But to think it was worth killing someone? They weren’t dealing with cocaine or diamonds. They were dealing with lobsters. Bugs that crawled around the seafloor and hid in mud holes and rock caves and ate each other or any other piece of sea rot they could find.

  Celeste interrupted his thoughts. Jonah, do you want to use the shower?

  I washed up some earlier.

  Use the shower, Jonah. It’s nice to have a hot shower once in a while even if you don’t need it. Dinner’s not for a while yet and Virgil needs to cool down.

  Sure, Jonah said. Sure.

  You know where it is.

  Is Charlotte up there?

  Virgil turned. In the shower?

  Upstairs.

  She’s not here, Virgil said. Just go on the Christ and take a shower.

  I’ll get you a towel, Celeste said.

  Jonah followed her up the stairs. She set out a blue towel for him and paused in the hallway. The space was shadowed and her face was half lit by the bathroom light and her hair was tucked behind her ear.

  Jonah, she said. Don’t think about that stuff with Osmond and lobster prices. You know how Virgil gets. He doesn’t deal well with things, especially death. He needs to blame someone and losing your father has been very hard on him. He doesn’t have many real friends—not that any of that is an excuse for the things he said.

  I know it, Jonah said. Osmond was good to the old man. No one else, but he was good to the old man.

  Celeste closed her eyes then opened them. Yes. Yes, he was.

  Jonah hesitated then spoke in a hushed voice. Virgil doesn’t look too good, Celeste.

  He’s drinking more than ever and he won’t sleep. I don’t think he’s slept since you moved out of the trailer.

  Maybe I should come back. For a while or something.

  No. She shook her head from side to side. You take care of you. He just drives around and watches the harbor like he’s waiting for your father to come home. He says he’s looking for whales is what he says. And yesterday after they brought your father’s boat back, he wouldn’t come home. He just sat in his truck down at the wharf looking at Nicolas’s boat.

  She turned to go but stopped. She took a moment as if deciding whether or not to speak. Then said, Yes, I am worried about him, Jonah. He’s been acting—I don’t know how to explain it. He’s not himself anymore, and I don’t think it’s all because of your father’s death. I don�
�t know what’s happened. And now this conspiracy theory of his—.

  Her voice trailed off. She bit her lower lip and Jonah thought she would cry. He gripped her hands in his and they were cold and dry.

  He’ll be fine, he said.

  She pulled her hands free and hugged him. It’s good to have you here. If you get tired of being alone, stay here as long as you want. There’s the extra bedroom and no one will bother you. Just come in and make yourself at home.

  I’m fine, Celeste. I like it out there. It’s quiet. He paused. Then, Where’s Charlotte? I haven’t seen her in a long time.

  Celeste didn’t answer at first. She gave him a sympathetic look. Maybe she’ll talk to you. She always wanted a big brother and you and Bill were like that for her.

  He watched her walk down the hallway. He shut the door and turned the shower on.

  • • •

  Virgil shook his head slowly. I don’t know what the hell that was. I shouldn’t of told him that shit about Osmond and Jason Jackson. Now I lit a fire under his highliner ass. I got blathering like the Captain.

  Celeste held a star-shaped cookie cutter in her hand and she pressed it into the sheet of dough. She didn’t want to look at her husband. She’d always had absolute faith in him but that faith was fraying. You got blathering all right, she said without looking up. I haven’t got any idea if what you said has any grounding in reality or not, Virgil, but if it does—if it has any grounding at all—then you need to go to the police right now. And whatever it is that you did that’s made you go insane, I don’t know. Just fix it for crying out loud.

  Virgil didn’t appear to hear her. Now Jonah’s up there thinking all the things he’s going to do to Osmond Randolph and what he’s going to do is get his highliner self killed if he does anything but set his ass home. Now I got to watch over him.

  Yes, you do have to watch him. What were you thinking? What are you going to do if he starts making accusations? Or worse? What’s going to happen when he tells Bill? Don’t you have any idea that he listens to you?