Of Sea and Cloud

by Jon Keller

  He dressed. He sat at the counter and looked at the harbor. The Cinderella and Gale Warnings were on their moorings and the dream-image of his father with scalloped muscles and swollen veins came back to him and so did his mother’s voice calling, What have you done, Jonah? What have you done?

  Charlotte parked in Julius’s driveway. She knocked on his door. He didn’t answer and she knocked again. When he still didn’t answer she opened the door and called for him.

  Yeah, he said.

  Can I come in?

  Yeah, he said.

  She stepped inside and shut the door and took off her jacket. The coffee table was upside down and two chairs were tipped over. She saw splashes of blood on the carpet.

  Julius came out of the bedroom wearing sweatpants but no shirt. She saw his black lobster tattoo. His lips were swollen and cracked and the side of his neck was bruised purple and yellow and his wrists were burned where the ropes had chafed. His knuckles were swollen and crusted in blood and several fingers were wrapped in a bloody bandage.

  He stood in front of her and smiled.

  Oh my God, she said. Jesus Christ. What happened?

  She stepped to him and ran her finger over his lips and stood up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips gently into his.

  It ain’t bad, he said.

  She lifted his wrist and examined the bandage. Did Jonah do this? He did, didn’t he? Oh my God, I’m so sorry. This is my fault.

  No it ain’t, he said. It’s not about you.

  Yes it is, she said. He still loves me and he’s jealous. He wants to get married and have kids and things.

  He thinks I sank his boat, Julius said.

  But you didn’t?

  Julius sat on the couch and Charlotte sat next to him. He pulled the remote from the cushion and turned the television on. You don’t want to have kids? he said.

  Not now. Probably not ever.

  What do you want now?

  Nothing, I guess. I want to move. I want to be on my own. What do you want?

  Just what I have. Just to go lobster fishing.

  I bet you want your dad out of jail, don’t you? Or your mom back.

  No, Julius said. He flicked through the channels.

  Charlotte pulled her feet up beneath her and put her hand on Julius’s head with her fingers driven into his tuft of hair. She pulled slightly. Did you sink Jonah’s boat?

  He faced her. Them boys ain’t as tough as they think.

  That wasn’t the question. She pulled his hair harder.

  So you think I’d sink Jonah’s boat because of you? You don’t trust me.

  Answer the question.

  His tongue flicked out of his mouth and ran over his scaled lips. His pupils were small and dark despite the dark room. No, he finally said. I don’t want a thing to do with them.

  She released his hair and put her hands in her lap. Julius flicked through the channels on the television then dropped the remote on the cushion.

  He said, So what do you dream about?

  What do I dream about? I don’t know, I guess. I dream about lots of things. I used to have a nightmare that my mom and dad got a divorce.

  I dream about water, Julius said.

  Water?

  Like I’m underwater but there’s no me. I’m part of the water or something. I just see water everywhere. And hear it too. Sometimes I think that’s what the Lord is. The water and the tides.

  Charlotte stared in disbelief. You always dream that?

  All the time, he said. You just have to be quiet long enough to let it happen. As soon as my head hits the pillow the water turns on. I bet you never met anyone like that before. Who dreams he’s water.

  No.

  Just me, Julius said. That’s it.

  What color is the water?

  Blue and green. Like water is. No bubbles or nothing. Julius looked away and thought for a moment then turned back to Charlotte and put his hand on her knee.

  So who sank Jonah’s boat then? she said.

  I don’t know. You don’t believe me. You think I did it.

  You’re the obvious conclusion.

  Jonah’s boat goes to bottom and everyone thinks it’s me? Just because I just got my new boat is why. That’s the only reason. Jonah acts all nice on dry land but get him on the water and he’s a mean bastard. Hell, him and your father both broke down my door and did this. I don’t want a battle to be a war.

  I know, said Charlotte. She got up and went into the kitchen and came back with a wet paper towel. We should clean those lips up some, she said and stooped over him and held the wet towels out like showing a bone to a strange dog. Julius didn’t move and she dabbed at his lips. He didn’t seem to feel anything and when she finished wiping them clean he reached up and pulled her by the hips toward him. She leaned over him and her hair hit his shoulders. He pulled her knees apart and eased her down so she straddled him. He ran his hands up her back and beneath her shirt. She kissed the broken lips gently then kissed his cheek and he flinched as she approached the bruised side of his neck.

  I don’t want to talk about them anymore, she whispered into his ear.

  Julius pushed her back so he could see her eyes. It’s just me out there, Charlotte. I got no sternman and no friends. My old man’s in prison and my grandfather’s a nutcase.

  Poor you, Charlotte said. She stood up. She took the pile of wet towels to the sink and was about to drop them when she recognized on the counter her father’s cigarette butt with its always pinched filter. She’d known he’d been there but actual evidence of his trespass stung her. She dropped the towels on top of the cigarette.

  She turned. She saw Julius. The black spark glinted in his eyes.

  Charlotte stepped from the linoleum to the carpeted living room. She felt blood begin to pump in her chest and up her neck. She looked at Julius. He was beat up but still so arrogant. Her hand rose to her shirt. She turned around and faced the kitchen. The cabinets were open and her father’s cigarette butt was on the counter. She undid the top button on her shirt. Her hand slid down the fabric and paused on the next button. She undid that one as well. Her breath came in a rush. She felt Julius on the couch behind her and her eyes stung with the image of his chest and the black lobster tattoo and she undid another button and smiled as if in disbelief. Her shirt slipped from her shoulders. She caught it around her hips and held it there for a moment then released. The room was cold and she felt the cold air climb her torso like a squall. She looked down at her shirt on the brown stained carpet. She closed her eyes and reached behind her back and undid her bra and held it there for a moment then dropped it. She undid her belt and slid her pants down and stepped out of them. She wore small red underpants and she hooked her thumbs in the thin hipline and ran them back and forth in a moment of final decision then pulled the red underpants down and Julius was suddenly behind her.

  She straightened and felt a shard of air like steel against her skin. His hands slid around her rib cage and gripped her breasts hard. Her mind pulsed. She looked down at the two hands on her two breasts. The knuckles looked sharp. She pulled his hands free and turned and faced him. Her heart raced and she could feel his knees trembling. She bent and pulled his sweatpants from him and set her hands on his kneecaps to still them. She lifted her eyes to him and saw the black lobster tattoo like a shield on his chest.

  Jonah started his truck and leaned back as it warmed. He looked down at the wharf and out at the harbor. The truck cab smelled like cigarettes and salt and gasoline and bait. He felt relieved to be done with Virgil and Charlotte but he knew not to trust that relief because now he was alone and his mother’s dream voice reached through his loneliness and cried, What have you done, Jonah? What have you done?

  And what had he done?

  Nothing, he thought. Not a goddamned thing.

  He rolled his iced window down and watched his breath cloud and rise. A black truck drove down the hill and parked. Osmond Randolph stepped out. Two girls’ faces emerged from
the back seat and stared through the glass like twin guppies within a tank.

  Osmond glanced at Jonah as he walked down the gravel and ice drive toward the wharf but neither gave any indication that he’d seen the other. Osmond righted a skiff and untied it and slid it into the water and rowed toward Julius’s boat. Jonah looked over his shoulder at the girls. Still they both stared at him. His engine idled and his truck shook. He put his hand on the shift lever and was about to leave when he saw Osmond pull alongside the Cinderella and climb aboard.

  Jonah put his truck in gear and eased down the hill and onto the wharf. Water spread on three sides of him. Osmond ducked down forward and soon afterward returned. He looked around the boat and ran his finger up the bronze coaming then stood in the center of the deck and faced Jonah as if to say, Here I am.

  Jonah waited. Osmond rowed across the harbor. His back and shoulders hunched over the oars and he rowed with short hard strokes that pushed the narrow skiff like a driven nail. He pulled the skiff onto the float and tied it off and started up the ramp. Jonah watched him through the side mirror and muttered, Fuck this. He slammed his truck into reverse and spun the wheels hard across ice and gravel until he blocked Osmond’s passage.

  Osmond didn’t pause until he reached the top of the ramp. He gripped the rail on Jonah’s truck bed and without looking at Jonah he said, Pull back so I can open the door.

  Jonah glared at him through the back window then reversed.

  Osmond opened the door and folded himself into the truck seat. His nose was purple and broken and his hair black and oiled and the truck cab suddenly smelled like something raw and earthen but Jonah knew not what. He rolled a window down and shook a cigarette out and offered the pack to Osmond who only shook his head once.

  You’re wondering what business I have aboard Nicolas’s boat?

  Jonah’s throat crimped and he put one hand on his knee to still his shaking leg. He swallowed. That’s right.

  I’ve already discussed things with your brother, William.

  I see that.

  Osmond turned his head to give Jonah a frontal view of the damage. He is unhurt, Osmond said.

  I’d say he’s had plenty of hurt, Osmond.

  Osmond’s eyes shifted to Jonah then away. Your father and I were very close and I am sorry for the course things have taken, although I cannot see that I should apologize. I have done nothing wrong.

  Jonah nodded. Osmond’s voice was deep and certain. There was an undertone of authority and compassion that made Jonah believe what he was saying even as he told himself not to. Julius had been about to lose his hand in the pot hauler and still he’d lied and Jonah wanted so badly to say, You killed my father you sonofawhore.

  He faced Osmond. He said all he could think to say. You set traps on the Leviathan first thing. You know that ain’t right. You knew damned certain that would cause problems.

  Correct, Osmond said. He let his chin dip to his collar line. For that I have paid, and I apologize. I was rash and greedy, and I was confused over the loss of a dear friend. Oftentimes when a loved one dies, the survivor attempts to emulate them. It is about comfort, and fear, you see.

  Jonah nodded and the truck cab filled with silence as if it had blown in through the window.

  What happened with Julius, Osmond continued, is unfortunate. You have to understand how his life has been.

  I understand all right, Jonah said. But he sank my fucking boat.

  Osmond nodded slowly. He ran a hand over his chin. You are an orphan as well, he said. Your paternal grandparents are in New Hampshire, are they not? Disavowed of your father long ago. Since Vietnam. Your maternal grandfather, long since dead—and that maternal grandmother is where? The Midwest, I believe.

  Michigan, Jonah blurted but he did not want to exchange information with this man who should not know his lineage least of all speak of it.

  Your father and I were close, Osmond said.

  Jonah and Osmond watched Nicolas’s boat twist on its mooring.

  That boat needs to be bleached, Osmond said.

  I guess she does.

  Do you intend to use her? She’s a good boat. I will reimburse you for your old boat. What Julius did was inexcusable, and I shall answer for him myself.

  Jonah glanced at Osmond and puffed on his cigarette and as he released the smoke he said, I don’t want your money.

  Osmond didn’t blink.

  Jonah waited for Osmond to leave but Osmond didn’t move. Jonah sucked hard on the last of the cigarette and dropped the butt out the window and gulped fresh air.

  I saw you last night, Osmond said. You and Virgil. I was certain that I would find my boat on bottom, not my grandson beaten as he was. That was not easy to see.

  Why’d you think we’d put your boat on bottom, Osmond?

  Osmond took several breaths through his nostrils.

  Julius is my responsibility, Osmond said.

  Well, he’s got a sight more coming to him I’d say.

  Osmond reached out quick and grabbed Jonah’s shoulder. Jonah tried to slide away but couldn’t. He looked at the hand and the skin was red and white and scaled. The fingertips landed on his breast. The nails were yellow. The thumb jammed into his shoulder blade and he had no doubt that if Osmond so desired he could clamp that hand like a jaw.

  I will handle Julius and I alone will handle Julius. I do not want any interference. Is that clear? If you have something to say to him, you come to me.

  How about this, Jonah said. He squirmed beneath Osmond’s grip. How about you let Bill buy back into the pound? He’s got the insurance check. And Julius is poison, you know as well as I do. You sell to Bill, we let Julius alone for you to deal with.

  Osmond released Jonah and folded his hands on his lap. We all have things in this world that we should do, Joshua. Things we know we should do that we do not, and so often we would feel so much better if we only did them. Sometimes it is as simple as allowing ourselves to believe in something, but we do not. No matter how little effort these things may take, we do not do them. We keep secrets from ourselves. We create reasons and justifications to hide behind when all the while all we have to do is follow our own path, yet we believe that we find comfort in these justifications and so we stick to them. Do you understand what I’m saying?

  I understand that you know damned well you should let Bill back in the pound, insurance deal or not. It’s what’s right. You know as well as I do.

  Bill is not who I am talking about.

  Then what in fuck are you talking about?

  Look, said Osmond.

  With a slight movement of his fingers like a card dealer he motioned toward the harbor.

  Jonah looked at the Cinderella but his eyes went back to the hand that Osmond now held draped over one knee. Jonah focused on the fingers and wished he could reach behind the seat and take his father’s skull from there and place it in Osmond’s lap. Osmond’s words repeated in his mind and he was tempted to say, Yes, Osmond, I do understand exactly what you’re saying.

  Osmond shook his head slowly. The pound and its future are not up for discussion, Jonah. As I’ve said, I apologize for your losses.

  It took Jonah a while to speak and when he did his words were deliberate. I’m not worried about the pound anymore.

  I see.

  Jonah lit another cigarette and blew the smoke out the window. He stole a glance at Osmond and Osmond appeared to have lost track of the conversation. Jonah made himself continue. But all that talk don’t answer what you were doing aboard my father’s boat.

  Just looking, Osmond said.

  Looking for what?

  Osmond’s eyes flashed back and forth. Nicolas was my friend, and I wanted to be aboard his boat one last time. To take a last look, that is all.

  A last look for what, Osmond?

  Osmond opened the door and began to step out and Jonah very nearly shouted, You, Osmond, you, but instead said, You think he did it, don’t you?

  Osmond pulled his
foot back in and shut the door. He turned to face Jonah again. Would you care to explain that?

  Jonah coughed and rolled the window down another inch and spat into the harbor. He rolled the window up. His pulse raced and his mind pounded as it tried to keep up with his mouth. He thought about Julius. He took a few more breaths then said, He wasn’t supposed to end up in the pound, was he?

  Those things are not up to us, Jonah.

  Jonah resisted the urge to open the door and run. He said, Julius didn’t put him in the pound, but he killed him, didn’t he?

  Osmond faced forward and his body relaxed in the seat. He leaned his head back into the rear window and Jonah heard the thud of skull on glass as Osmond closed his eyes. There it is, Osmond said with his eyes closed. There it is.

  Jonah tried not to stare at him but he couldn’t pull his eyes away. He wished for his father’s rifle. Osmond’s tongue came out of his mouth and wetted his lips then slid back in. His hands remained folded in his lap. When he spoke his voice had changed as if it now sounded from below. You were surprised by what I know of your family. Your father loved you dearly, Joshua, and he lived and died regretting that you did not know that.

  How the hell do you know that?

  I knew him well. He was a stubborn man, and stubborn men die with many regrets. Did you know that I named you, Jonah? Did you know that?

  What?

  Yes. Don’t you remember? Nicolas drowned his son, Joshua, don’t you remember? And out of the sea came Jonah, ready this time to accept the Lord?

  Jonah spun and reached fast for the door handle and tried to push the door open but Osmond grabbed his bicep and spun him back and held him pressed into his seat. Jonah heard his own heartbeat.

  But you, Jonah, you still seek to flee the Lord. You have yet to learn that no matter where you flee in this world, one is with you and one is after you. He was with you as you drowned, but you don’t remember, do you?

  I remember that you’re fucking nuts, Jonah said and his face shot red and sweat rolled and he grabbed Osmond’s wrist with all of his strength but even with two hands Jonah could not begin to move Osmond’s one. He looked up at Osmond’s face and Osmond looked saddened.