Harbor of the Heart

by Katherine Spencer

  What a difference a day makes, Liza thought. But that’s the way the ocean was; “a fickle mistress,” fishermen called it.

  Moments later the truck drove down a short sandy road and pulled up next to the long wooden dock. Everyone jumped out, including Edison, and followed Daniel down to the beach.

  They made their way down a slope covered with beach grass, and Liza soon spotted the boat, resting on the sand far enough back from the water to be clear of a high tide. Tilted on its side against a pile of gray boulders, it was partially covered with a huge blue tarp, and looked like an ailing patient in a hospital bed.

  They all stopped and stared at it. Nolan pressed a hand to his forehead. “My beautiful Ariadne . . . You poor thing . . . What did I do to you?”

  Claire took a step toward him. “It was the storm, Nolan. It wasn’t your fault. The wind and rain and the sheer strength of the ocean did it. One lone sailor isn’t any match for that.”

  He glanced at her a moment, his expression bleak. Then he slowly set off toward his battered vessel, with Edison padding behind.

  As they headed to the boat, Liza noticed some clothing, shoes, and other objects washed up on the shore. They could collect all that later. Perhaps some of it could be washed and dried. Considering Nolan’s situation, it was certainly worth a try.

  First they had to help Nolan search his boat. He had reached the Ariadne and was trying to pull off the big cover, though a strong breeze fought him even in that simple effort.

  “Here, Nolan. Let me help.” Daniel took one end of the tarp, and together they uncovered the boat. Nolan stepped back and gasped. The tarp had been covering a large gash in the hull, but now the damage was revealed.

  “Oh dear, this is bad. Very bad . . .” He gingerly touched the torn wood with his fingertips, then glanced at Daniel. “I know you said there was a hole. But this is even worse than I expected.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to give you false hope. I still think you can repair it.” Daniel’s tone was encouraging.

  Nolan sighed. “Guess I’ll look inside. Can’t get any worse than this.”

  Liza didn’t know much about it, but guessed there was a point where a boat wasn’t worth fixing. That thought did raise a question. Did Nolan have any insurance on the boat? She hoped he did, though she didn’t think this was the time to ask him.

  Nolan scrambled up the rocks next to the vessel and hopped down to the deck. For an older man, he was quite nimble. So was Edison, who quickly followed.

  Nolan turned and looked down at the others. “I won’t be long. There’s only one thing I really want to find in this mess—my papers and files. I hope they’re still there.”

  Then he turned and disappeared down into the boat’s cabin.

  “I’ll go help him,” Daniel said, and set off after Nolan.

  Liza and Claire followed as well, in a more careful manner. Liza climbed onto the deck first and held out a hand to help Claire. Edison was still on deck. He walked in impatient circles, then finally sat down at the far end of the boat, just managing to keep his balance, since the deck was tilting to one side.

  They heard a lot of noise down in the cabin. Claire glanced at Liza. “Sounds like doors slamming?”

  Liza peered below. “He’s looking through all the latched cabinets and benches. Some of them are already open.”

  Down in the galley, Liza saw a tiny kitchen: a sink and a two-burner cooktop. There were portholes covered with short curtains along either side of the galley, with long wooden benches below. A small wooden table stood near the cooktop.

  Liza thought it was a very nice boat . . . or had been. Right now it was a soggy mess. Water-soaked debris was strewn in all directions, most of it plastered to the floor and jammed in corners of the galley—clothing, cups, dishes, maps, seat cushions, a soggy box of oatmeal and cans of food, water goggles and melted copies of American Inventor magazine, and even a few books littered the floor of the cabin. Liza recognized the cover of one: Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman.

  It will take hours to sort through all that, she thought.

  Nolan had bypassed the mess completely and made a beeline for the most forward compartment. He stood at the wooden door, pulling and shaking it and making quite a racket.

  “Can you see what he’s doing now?” Claire asked.

  Liza peered down again. “He’s trying to open the door to a space at the front of the boat. Let’s go down and see what’s going on.”

  Liza led the way and Claire followed. Liza saw Edison staring down the steps; then the big dog scuttled down behind them. It was darker in the galley and, with the boat pitched to one side, difficult to walk. But they managed by holding on to the wooden counters and table, and made it to the middle of the space. Daniel stood next to Nolan, who had crouched down to examine a lock on a small door at the far end of the galley.

  “Lost the key, of course,” Nolan muttered, “along with everything else. Do you have a screwdriver in the truck? Maybe we can take the door off the hinges.”

  “I have a small one right here, on my key ring. A Swiss Army knife.” Daniel leaned over and offered Nolan the tool. “Will that help?”

  “It should do very well. I can use this thin blade and spring the lock.”

  Nolan’s reply sounded to Liza like something a professional burglar might say. She wondered if he really could open a lock without a key that easily. But he was an engineer and doubtless knew how the mechanics of a simple lock worked. A few seconds later, she had her answer.

  “There we go.” Nolan sounded cheered, and Liza heard the heavy thud of the lock falling to the floor. “These locks aren’t made very well. A child could spring them open,” he said.

  Claire turned to Liza with a surprised expression. “A very precocious child,” she murmured.

  Liza smiled. Nolan was quite a character. He could build a boat and spring open a lock with ease. What else could he do?

  Nolan stepped aside, his hand on the small brass door handle. “Stand back. I hear water on the other side.”

  Nolan pulled the door open, and Liza heard a gushing sound as a small wave of seawater washed down from the compartment and right through the tilted galley, carrying bits of seaweed, sand, and shells.

  Luckily, she and Claire were wearing rubber boots, which had been Claire’s idea. Edison, of course, was not so lucky. He stood very still and looked down at the water as it rushed past his paws. Then he looked up with a confused expression.

  The water had hardly drained before Nolan charged through the doorway. “There it is . . . thank goodness! If I lost this trunk, I would have to jump in the ocean right after it.”

  “And I’d have to jump in right after you, Nolan. So I’m glad you found it, too,” Daniel said, making light of the desperate remark.

  Nolan didn’t seem to notice the touch of humor. “It’s wedged to one side and full of water. Can you help me pull it out?”

  “Let’s see what we can do.” Daniel slipped into the cabin, too. Liza poked her head in the doorway and could just make out the edge of a battered black trunk trimmed with brass. The kind of trunk children take to summer camp or people used to take on long cruises.

  Nolan had said something about papers and files. If that’s what it contained, it was surely a waterlogged mess. The papers it contained might very well be illegible by now. But clearly Nolan had to have that trunk; he was acting as if it were filled with a pirate’s treasure.

  The two men worked hard, pushing and sliding the trunk to the cabin door, then tilting it sideways and shoving it toward the stairway that led to the deck. Claire and Liza began to help on the other end. Once it was all the way through the galley, Daniel got a plank and some rope from his truck, and they managed to get the trunk up onto the deck.

  It was time for a break, and everyone stood on the deck, catching their breath and staring at
the trunk. Edison circled it and sniffed at the bottom, where some water still dripped out.

  “No need to try to get this out now, Nolan,” Daniel said. “We’ll put the boat up on the trailer and haul it back to the inn. You can open the trunk there and take out what you want.”

  “Yes, I know. But it’s hard to wait. I just want to know if my documents have been soaked beyond recognition.” The trunk was secured with a big combination lock, and Nolan hovered over it. He knelt down, took the lock in hand, and began twisting it around, whispering to himself as he tried to recall the combination. “Don’t worry, I have it memorized, though sometimes it takes me a minute or two to remember . . . five to the left . . . thirty-three right . . .”

  Edison stood very close to his master, and when Nolan looked up again, he and the dog were nose to nose. “The old address on Nutmeg Street?” Nolan asked his four-legged friend. “Or was it the phone number?”

  Edison stared at Nolan. Even if he did remember, he had no way of telling. Nolan squinted down at the lock, then gazed at the sky. Then he shook his head and started again.

  Daniel crossed his arms over his chest. Liza could tell he was growing impatient. They had started this expedition early enough, but she knew he had his own work to get to today.

  Finally, Nolan looked up again. “I’m sorry. I can’t seem to remember. So stupid of me. I usually keep a little card in my wallet, with the numbers written down. In code of course. But I don’t have that, either.”

  “It will come to you,” Claire promised. “Why don’t we take the whole kit and caboodle back to the inn? I bet you’ll remember the numbers as soon as you stop thinking about it.”

  Nolan took a deep breath, then nodded in agreement. “That’s probably true. The mind will play tricks on you. My mind, anyway.”

  He came to his feet and rubbed his hands on the blue windbreaker Daniel had given him. “All right. Time to get this show on the road. How can I help you, Daniel? Tell me what to do.”

  Daniel brought the truck and trailer down to the beach, and with a bit more group effort, they managed to get the ailing Ariadne on the trailer and secured for the short ride back to the inn. While Nolan and Daniel finished loading the boat on the trailer, Claire and Liza walked down the beach and picked up everything they could find of Nolan’s belongings, stuffing it all in large plastic bags.

  Once again, Nolan and Edison rode in the back of the truck. Through her open window, Liza could hear Nolan talking to the dog, still trying to remember the combination. “. . . starts with my birthday, I’m sure of that much,” she heard him say.

  “What happens if Nolan doesn’t remember?” Liza asked Daniel. “Can he break the lock?”

  “I can try some metal clippers. But that lock is strong, and clippers might not work. I suppose he can call a locksmith. Let’s just hope he remembers the combination,” he added.

  “Yes, let’s say a prayer. He’s gone through so much, and whatever is in that trunk is important to him,” Claire added quietly.

  Liza had to agree. She had to count her blessings when she saw what Nolan was going through. There was so much in her life she took for granted, so many comforts and advantages. Someone famous had once said that if the only prayer you ever say is “Thank you,” it would be enough. Liza had a feeling that was true and resolved to be more grateful.

  Back at the inn, Daniel left the boat at the back of the long gravel drive, near the barn. Liza and Claire went inside while the men covered the boat again, to keep out rain and enterprising animals looking for shelter.

  Claire made some iced tea while Liza checked her laptop, trying to get oriented for the day. Her thoughts were broken by the sound of tapping at the back door. She saw Daniel and Nolan and wondered why they didn’t just come in.

  Claire walked to the door and opened it, then took a step back in alarm. Liza saw that they had carried the black trunk to the patio and had set it near the door.

  “You don’t plan on bringing that inside, do you?” Claire’s tone was quiet and measured, but Liza sensed her sheer horror at the idea of it.

  “Of course not,” Daniel assured her. “We just need some rags to clean it off . . . if you have some handy?”

  Claire’s expression changed instantly. “I have plenty. I’ll bring them right out for you . . . and some iced tea,” she added. “That trunk looks heavy. It must have been hard to carry it all the way from the barn.”

  Daniel rolled his eyes. “It was” was all he said. Liza could only imagine. A huge trunk loaded with waterlogged papers. She glanced at Claire and then at Nolan.

  “I just need to get the lock open,” Nolan said, seeming unbothered by the trunk’s weight. “I’ll probably recall the numbers any minute now. Then I’ll take out what I can salvage and put the rest in the trash.” He glanced at Liza with a hopeful expression.

  She forced a small smile. “As long as it’s not in here when guests arrive. Maybe we can move it back into the barn by then if you can’t get it open.”

  “Yes, I understand completely. It will be out of your way in no time,” Nolan promised.

  Liza hoped that was true. She stepped away from the door as Claire brought out a bucket of rags.

  Edison watched the action, then laid down near the trunk, as if he felt a need to guard it.

  “I’ll go look for the metal shears,” Daniel offered. “I’m not sure if they’ll cut the lock. But we can try.”

  “And I need to get started on some phone calls. I guess I’ll see you all later.” Liza went back inside, heading for her office.

  Though she was curious to see what was in the trunk, she also felt the need to get to work. If anything exciting popped out of the trunk—like a giant squid or a mermaid—she was sure someone would call her.

  Liza had just settled down at her computer when Daniel appeared in the doorway. “I’m taking off now. Just wanted to say good-bye.”

  Liza stood up and walked over to him. “Not going to wait to see what pops out of Nolan’s trunk?”

  Daniel smiled. “I’ll wait to read about it in the Messenger,” he said, mentioning the name of the local newspaper. “I did want to let you know that I can’t come back tomorrow to finish the step.”

  “Oh, that’s okay. I’ll just put up a sign or something to keep the guests off of it. They hardly ever go down to the drive that way anyway. Taking care of Nolan these last few days must have set you back with your work schedule.”

  “It has . . . but it’s not that. I was thinking about that conversation we had last night, about what I would need to do to go back to medicine, and I started looking around online when I got home.”

  “Really?” Liza was surprised that he had researched the question so quickly. But maybe he really did want to go back and had just needed a little nudge in the right direction. “What did you find out?”

  “Looks like a lot of tests,” he said with a laugh. “But I made an appointment with someone at the medical certification board in Boston, and they’re going to help me figure it out. Figure out if it’s even feasible.”

  “I see. Well . . . I think that’s really great. I mean, it’s always better to know the answer to something like this, one way or the other, right?”

  Daniel nodded. “Yes, it is. I guess I’ve wondered about it more than I’ve been willing to admit. It will be good to finally find out.”

  Liza gave him a tight hug. “I’m proud of you. I know it isn’t easy to deal with this, and dredge up everything in the past. But I think you’re doing the right thing, Daniel.”

  Daniel hugged her back. “Thanks . . . I think so, too.”

  * * *

  CLAIRE had left Nolan alone with his trunk for a while, and now carried out a tray with a pitcher of iced tea, along with some tall glasses and a dish of oatmeal cookies. She placed it on the patio table and glanced at Nolan. He had just finished wiping off the t
runk, and held a bunched wet rag in his hands.

  “It won’t be here long, Claire. I’m bound to remember the combination soon.” Nolan crouched down in front of the trunk and started working on the lock again.

  “When I have to remember something like that, I usually make up a clue or some little hint to remind me.” She paused and watched him twisting the lock’s dial around. “Would you like a glass of iced mint tea? It always gives me a boost of energy.”

  Nolan looked up at her. “I would like some tea, thank you.”

  Claire poured some cold tea into the tall glasses. The clinking ice cubes made an inviting sound. Nolan wiped his hands on a rag and took a glass from the tray. She took one, too. She loved mint tea the best. It refreshed her entire body and spirit and mind.

  “Very invigorating,” Nolan declared. “I can tell this is the real thing.”

  “Oh, it definitely is. I make it from my own mint. It grows like crazy in the herb garden.”

  “You have an herb garden, too? I guess that makes sense. You’re obviously an expert cook,” Nolan added, glancing out at the property behind the inn. “What’s all that growing in the big garden? Vegetables? Flowers?”

  “A mixture of both. It’s a real kitchen garden. Though I don’t just toss the rotten vegetables and such out the door and hope for the best,” she said with a laugh. “That’s what they did in the old days around here—colonial times and even later, on farms. It was survival of the fittest for the plants. Low maintenance and usually a very good yield.”

  “But your method is far more orderly?”

  “Yes, it is. I keep a careful record from year to year of the weather and what sort of fertilizer I’ve used. And which plants have thrived and where.”

  “Carefully observed, well documented.” He nodded with approval. “Does that help?”

  “Somewhat . . . but gardening is just like any other creative activity. You can apply your best and most consistent effort, but at a certain point, you have to let go and let the divine take over. That mysterious force that fuses through things, transforming a tiny seed into a watermelon, or a sunflower. There’s only one real Gardener. I think of myself as a helper.”