Between Havana and The Deep Blue Sea
Page 6
I had to do, that’s all. Let’s just leave it at that.”
“I’m going to take down the spinnaker and set the self-steering, and then get some sleep. Are you able to go topside and keep an eye on the compass?”
“I think I can.”
“Good.” Jim took the spinnaker down, then came back down and crawled wearily into the berth. He closed his eyes, and immediately sleep overtook him.
Randy sat and watched his brother sleep. He prayed, “Thank you, Father, for Jim.” His eyes welled with tears of love for his vagabond brother.
Jim slept for six hours and awoke with a start, looking around the cabin for Randy. He was disoriented. For a moment he wondered if he had been dreaming, and the last several days had not happened at all.
He dragged himself wearily out of his berth, and, drinking a slug of water, he went topside. There was Randy, sitting by the wheel. He was relieved it had not been a dream, and that his brother was safe.
“It’s beautiful out here, and so peaceful,” Randy remarked, as a big moon was just beginning to set off in the west.
Jim checked the course and the rigging, and made a small adjustment to the self-steering.
At eleven o’clock that morning, Jim saw the outline of the shore of Tampa Bay begin to take shape. By three, he started taking down sail. When he was finished stowing the sails in the sail locker, he cranked the little diesel for the run under the causeway and back to the docks.
Old Sam met them at the edge of the docks, and Jim threw him the lines. “Where you boys been?” Sam inquired.
“We’ve been out for a sail,” Jim replied, his face showing no emotion.
Old Sam was getting so absent-minded he didn’t remember that Jim had left the docks by himself.
“How have you been, Sam?”
“Oh, fair to middlin”
Jim looked fondly at the old man, and he knew that it wouldn’t be long until one day old Sam would not be at the docks to take his lines and welcome him home.
“Old Sam has been such a good friend; I’ll miss him when he’s gone.”
“Yeah Jim, he has been around for a long time, and he’s a good man.”
“Remember when we were kids and he whipped those two bullies who were trying to take our fish?”
“Yeah, and the time he pulled me out of the water when I fell in.”
Thirty minutes later, they were pulling in at Randy’s home in Clearwater. Randy’s wife spied Jim’s old truck pulling into the drive, and ran out into the yard. Randy and Jim got out of the truck, and Linda grabbed Randy and hugged and kissed him. Then she hugged Jim. She hugged and kissed Randy again, and then Jim again.
When she finally settled down, Jim caught her eye over Randy’s shoulder, and motioned her into the house. She looked at him, nodded, and led her husband into the house, and sat him down in the living room.
“Can I get you guys something?”
“Get Randy some aspirin; he’s had some fever. Nothing for me.”
She disappeared into the kitchen and came back with two aspirin and a glass of iced tea for each of them. Then she sat down and looked inquiringly at Jim. He explained the trip and the prison break, skipping over the details. He impressed on her the need to keep mum about it.
“Just live your lives as if this never took place, Linda. The fewer people know about this the better it is, you hear?” Jim asked. He looked at her sternly, but his eyes softened as he saw her tear-filled eyes.
She came over and hugged him. “Thank you for my Randy,” she said, kissing him on the forehead.
“The thanks go to God. Without his help, this would not have happened. We had far too much going right to call it luck.” If he was willing to acknowledge the hand of God in all this, why not fully commit himself to the Lord? Jim turned to his brother.
“Randy, would you baptize me?”
Randy agreed, and the very next Sunday, big Jim Grady went down into the water.
The End