“I think I see what you mean.” He tilted his head with a hint of disbelief. “How’d you get to be so wise anyway? Isn’t that my job? Giving insight, life lessons, and all that?” He gave a self-reproaching laugh, feeling inadequate as a father.
Jonathan dismissed his father’s comment with a wave of his hand. He looked outside to see the light almost fully faded, the slightest glow of crimson left in the western sky.
“I think I’m going to head to bed. I’m up even earlier tomorrow. Aryl’s a real slave driver.” He flashed a teasing look, his sincere smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.
∞∞∞
The next morning was a continuation of the crash course education in lobster fishing. Shortly after setting out, Aryl handed the chart and compass to Jonathan.
“Today, you get to find the pots.”
Jonathan looked slightly shaken as he glanced over the unfamiliar chart. He tried to make sense of the markings and abbreviations. He looked up at Aryl, panicked.
“These aren’t exactly the charts I’m used to looking at. I have no idea how to read these!”
Aryl pointed to places on the chart. “We’re here, the pots are here.” He tapped the compass. “Find them.” He stood back and crossed his arms, slightly amused. He could have explained more of the topography and symbolism, but he knew Jonathan loved a challenge despite his panicked protest and decided to let him learn by trial.
Caleb busied himself with setting up pots, untangling ropes, feeling quite tempted to slip down to the berth and catch a nap. He logged ten miles a day of walking to and from the marina and, feeling a sense of obligation, helped with evening chores on the farm. It was something he resolved to do every evening to compensate for room and board. He didn’t ask, but joined his father in the barn after dinner, feeding and bedding down the animals for the night while his father milked. Hubert said nothing, only glancing at him once as the two worked silently. After the animals were tended to, Caleb walked straight to their room, fell on the bed–the springs giving a piercing squeal, and was asleep within minutes. His mind was foggy and it startled him when Jonathan let out a short, maniacal laugh.
“Aha! I’ll be damned! There it is!”
Caleb walked, his steps wavering against the dips and rolls of the boat, and stood next to Jonathan at the wheel, looking and sounding impressed. “How’d you do that?”
“I have no idea.” Jonathan shook his head with an astonished grin.
“Okay, now, keep in mind, they’ve only been out one night. And it’s winter. And they weren’t set out that far. So, we’re not going to get rich today.” Aryl showed the two how to pull the pots up, by letting each of them try it out. It surprised Jonathan how much exertion was required to pull a pot, an empty pot at that, up off the bottom of the sea. He was sweating by the fourth pot. Only the fifth held four lobsters, and after opening the hatch, Aryl showed them how to hold them without getting pinched, check it for size and, finally, to make sure it wasn’t an egg-bearing female. One was. It and two undersized ones were thrown back over, leaving them one lobster in the holding tank. The three stood around it, staring at their first catch.
“And that’s all there is to it.” Aryl grinned, proudly.
March 2nd 1930
Victor sat in his office with the door securely closed, talking in a low voice to a man who came highly recommended among the more fraudulent and corrupt executives he knew. He was someone who could get a job done, leave no tracks, and was not known for being a rat. Victor would take no chances this time on an amateur looking for a quick buck. This job required a professional. They were working out the terms of payment when the receptionist knocked on the door, waited a moment, and then walked in with a stack of papers.
“This month’s evictions.” She set the papers on his desk and left quickly.
Half of them weren’t true evictions, but abandonments. He was hardly concerned; they would fill by the end of the following week. As he moved them to a drawer, something caught his eye. He read the name three times before jumping up to check the cash ledger the receptionist kept in her lower drawer. He read over it multiple times and slammed his fist on the desk with an unintelligible growl that ended as a scream.
Without explanation, he left and drove himself to the building where Jonathan Garrett had lived. He took the stairs two at a time and pounded on Jonathan’s door so hard that it shook the frame. He called out his name, ordering him to open the door and thumped again.
“They ain’t there.” Victor turned to see the beady-eyed one standing in her doorway. Although Victor was unnerving, she was unable to resist the chance to gossip. “They left last Saturday.” He struggled to control his voice and sound cordial.
“Do you know where they went?”
“I heard the neighbor over there say that she would come visit them in Rockport. No idea where that is. They made a calamitous amount of noise movin’ out, shuffling furniture, and dragging trunks down the stairs. And for crying poor the way they did, I was surprised they had the money to call a taxi truck. With them gone now, at least I won’t have to deal with that loud-mouthed Irish–”
Victor turned and scurried down the stairs, the door to the building slammed shut behind him.
When he walked back into his office, his hired man was still waiting patiently in his office. Victor was somewhat surprised.
“I charge by the hour as well as by the job. Makes no difference to me if I sit here all day. It’s your dime.”
“Well, the job has changed.” Victor wrote down some information and handed it, along with money for train fare and accommodations, across the desk. “I need you to go here. Find out everything you can about these people. But lay low.” The man gave an annoyed look at Victor for stating the obvious.
March 5th 1930
Ava was bored. She walked the house slowly from room to room, looking for something to do. She was tired of reading, had no interest in knitting or sewing, and since she worked with Jonathan’s mother, the housework and cooking was not enough to keep them both busy the full day. Their bedroom only took minutes to tidy, a vast difference from her life in New York where her entire day was spent scrubbing walls and floors that would never come clean. Margaret enjoyed her free time by preparing and expanding her garden. Ava walked out to the backyard, coat and purse in hand.
“I’d like to walk to Aryl’s parents’ house and see Claire.” Margaret looked up from under her wide sunhat with a smudge of dirt on her nose.
“Well, that sounds like fun. I bet you miss your friends.”
“I haven’t seen them in almost two weeks.”
“Do you remember the way?”
Ava looked east and then west. “I think so.”
“It’s only about a mile or so from here. I’ll draw you a little map.” She rose, dusted wet dirt off herself and went inside. She drew a detailed map with little drawings and the names of several residents along the way. “You might want to take an umbrella, looks like rain later.”
Ava pulled one from the ceramic canister by the door and headed out. It felt good to be outside and alone. She had become accustomed to walking everywhere, and she was surprised how much she missed it. The scenery was so much more peaceful here. She could look all around as she walked, instead of keeping her eyes on the concrete, afraid to look up. She could nod at neighbors instead of shying away from them. She felt safe to stroll along leisurely, looking at the cute homes and cottages with their pretty trim and neat yards and dream about how she would decorate their home when they had one again.
The air was surprisingly warm and still; almost stale with a strong, earthy smell. She looked to her left and couldn’t see the ocean through the trees, but saw a large wall of billowing clouds above them, smoky black with deep, violet veins. She hoped Jonathan wasn’t anywhere near them and that he would be home well before those clouds got to shore.
Claire saw her as she walked up the gravel drive and met her at the door with an excited hug. “I’ve
missed you so much!” She pulled her inside where she said hello to Aryl’s mother, made a cup of coffee and slipped out the back door to sit on the swing and talk.
“How have you been? How's it going with Jonathan’s parents? What do you do with yourself all day? I’ve been going out of my mind with boredom!”
“Whoa, one at a time. First, I’ve been fine. It was rough with Jon Sr. in the beginning, but he’s starting to come around. Can you believe that, after all everyone has been through, he's still pressuring Jonathan to start trading again? Jonathan said never again. He has other ideas. And as far as what I do all day, I’ve been going crazy! Jonathan is gone so much, and I think Margaret and I have run out of things to talk about. I tried some of her hobbies, but I didn’t really like them enough to keep at it. I am helping her with her garden, though. That I like, but I’ll like it better when it’s my own.”
Claire sighed in agreement. “Aryl said maybe by May if things go well.”
“Well, that’s hopeful. Jon hasn’t said anything either way. I don’t see why we all couldn’t find a place now, we have the money that they would have used for the down payment on the building, but Jon said that money is savings for the business. In case they need to repair or replace something.”
“We should start having our weekly meetings again. We can visit and maybe start some projects together.”
“That’s a great idea. And we need to start planning Arianna’s party.”
Claire’s eyes popped open. “I almost forgot about that! We should go see her.” She scrambled to her feet as if they were going to set out right then.
“That’s a long walk, Claire. Maybe someone could drive us out there this evening?”
“Nonsense. I’ll drive us.” She had a mischievous grin, and her eyes sparkled. Ava looked hesitant.
“Oh, come on.” Claire grabbed her arm and pulled her up. “It’ll be fun.” She skipped ahead, dragging Ava with her and found Kathleen in the living room tending to Michael, who was home with a cold. “Would it be all right if I borrowed the car so Ava and I can go see Arianna?” She aimed her question at Michael, since she knew it would be almost impossible for him to say no to her.
“Well, I suppose. You know how to drive?” Michael asked cautiously.
“Of course,” she said, smiling sweetly and convincingly.
“Well, all right.” Michael struggled up, coughed for a moment, and then went for the keys in the kitchen.
“We’ll only be gone a few hours. Thank you!” She gave him a peck on the cheek.
Claire sat for a moment, looking everything over.
“Just give me a minute. I’ve seen Aryl do this a hundred times.”
“You should probably begin with starting it,” Ava teased. Claire started it, put it in gear, turned to look behind her, and lurched forward five feet. Ava screamed and grabbed the dashboard.
“Oops.” She giggled. They glided out of the driveway clear to the other side of the road, and she put it in drive, making a painfully slow, wide turn to get straight in the road. She paused, took a deep breath and the car lurched forward again, only to screech to a halt a second later. It sputtered violently and the engine died. Claire had to try three times to start it again, and when it did, she took off like a shot, steering wildly to stay on the road. Michael and Kathleen watched from the window.
“That girl has never driven a day in her life,” he whispered under his breath.
“Well, she did better than I did when I got behind the wheel.”
“That’s not saying much, honey.”
∞∞∞
They found the farm without too much trouble, sputtering and jerking up the long drive. As they neared the house, Ava couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of Arianna, who was sitting on the front porch, churning butter with one hand and blowing on freshly painted nails of the other.
Claire shook her head. “Ma farmer meets Parisian party girl.”
Arianna stood with a little effort and hugged her friends. “It’s so wonderful for you to come see me! I feel like I’m so far away from civilization out here. And when did you learn how to drive!” She looked excited and envious at the same time.
Claire gave a sly but proud smile. “Just now.”
“How on earth did you get them to let you borrow the car?”
“I lied.” She shrugged her shoulders.
Arianna’s face fell in shock at first, then she smiled in approval. “Well, I’m glad you did, and I’m glad you came to see me.” She spun around to Ava, almost losing her balance due to her off-centered midsection. “I almost forgot! I got a letter from Maura yesterday.”
“So did I, but I forgot to bring it.” The latter was Ava’s lie. She kept Maura’s letters, three of them in only two weeks, all to herself. Even Jonathan wasn’t allowed to read them. Ava would read important segments to him aloud instead. They were special, they were hers, and she wasn’t going to share.
“I haven’t gotten one yet,” Claire said, feeling somewhat left out.
“Well, I’ll go get mine, and Ava can read it aloud while I finish with the butter.”
Claire and Ava looked at the wooden butter churn after the screen door slammed shut behind Arianna. “Never in my wildest dreams,” Claire said, shaking her head. “I wish I still had a camera.”
Arianna returned, handed the letter to Ava, and took her seat next to the churn, moving the paddle up and down and glanced to admire her short, bright red nails. Ava began reading, hearing Maura’s voice in her head as she spoke. She had to speak loudly, so the sloshing and the tapping of the churn didn’t drown her out.
Dear Arianna,
I hope this letter finds you happy, healthy and having gained some weight. How was the train ride and how are you settling in? I think about all of you often and miss you all very much.
Ava blinked quickly and cleared her throat before she continued.
I am sorry I wasn’t able to give your baby shower, but I’m sure Ava and Claire will do a fine job. I saw Charles on the trolley the other day. He says hello, sends his love and best wishes with the baby. As much as I miss you all, I am feeling strongly that it was good that you left the city when you did–
“Hold on one minute, Ava,” Arianna interrupted. “Mother Ethel! I’m ready!” she hollered. Ethel came quickly, with a bottle of nail polish in one hand and a large glass of milk in the other. She set the milk down on the porch rail with orders for her to drink it. Arianna moved the chair to the other side of the churn, took the plunger with her polished hand and held out the unpolished hand to Ethel. “Okay, you can go ahead now, Ava.” Ava watched incredulously as Ethel finished the manicure, complete with hand massage. She shook off the surprising scene and continued reading.
. . . good that you left the city when you did. There are scores of people without jobs and I have seen them, sometimes a block long, standing in line for free soup and bread. Petty crime is worse as well, as more folks are struggling to make ends meet. Ian’s hours were reduced, but we’re grateful he has the ones he does, and we’ve taken in an older aunt. It helps both of us, she puts a little toward the rent now, and she will have someone to care for her later in her old age. She works part-time at the library, which are my only moments of peace. She’s likely to drive me to the insane asylum with her complaining of America and how she would be better off back in Ireland. I suggested that if she gets a good running start off the pier, she might land on the deck of a departing ship headed that way. And if she didn’t, well, her troubles would be over either way. She didn’t think that was none too funny. Write me soon. Tell me all about your life. And take care of yourself and that baby. Get plenty of rest and let folks pamper you.
Ethel cast a look at Ava, who stifled a giggle.
Love, Maura
Ethel let go of the pampered hand and Arianna glanced to admire her work. “It looks wonderful, Mother Ethel, thank you so much,” she said and smiled sweetly at her. Ava could see the frustration and irritation melt away fro
m Ethel’s aged face.
“You’re welcome, dear.” She stood and gave a loving pat to the top of Arianna’s round belly.
“Would you girls like anything to drink?” she asked, turning to Ava.
“Oh, no, we’re quite all right.” Ava felt so bad that, on top of the never-ending, physically demanding chores that belonged to that of a farmer’s wife, Ethel had Arianna to contend with as well.
“Well, let me know if you need anything. I’m going to start dinner.” She glanced up at the darkening sky. “Might lose power if that turns out to be as menacing as it looks.” Ava again thought of Jonathan and hoped they would return home early, well in advance of the approaching storm.
After the screen door closed lightly behind Ethel, Ava cocked an accusing eyebrow at Arianna. “Well, it looks like you’re settling in quite well here,” she said, with just a hint of sarcasm threaded in.
“Oh, Mother Ethel takes such good care of me. I hardly have to lift a finger. I offered to churn the butter because I felt like I should do something around here to contribute. But other than that, I really am quite bored. Caleb isn’t much for company in the evenings these days.”
“They work very hard,” Claire acknowledged and subtly hinted. This she knew and understood but had to admit she didn’t like any more than the others. Monday through Saturday, Aryl would come home after being gone twelve hours, eat an early dinner, promising to spend the evening with Claire, or on warmer nights, sit in the swing with her and look at the stars. Most evenings, however, he would fall asleep on the couch, full from dinner and warm by the fire. Claire would spread out their feather tick and blankets in front of the fireplace and gently nudge him awake. He would apologize as he crawled under the covers, pull her head over to his chest, and promptly fall back asleep. She supposed it was just as well, as their sleeping quarters were smack in the middle of the living room.
1929 Page 39