by Nat Burns
Hazy went out a long way, farther than Nina would have dared, then turned porpoise-like and began making her way back to the landing.
Nina, feeling very sad again, knew she had to leave, had to make her escape before the other woman arrived, naked and dripping, onto the landing.
But she was reluctant to leave the magic moment; she wanted to stay and explore Hazy. What was it that made her so sad at night alone but so belligerent during the day?
Nina made her way quickly and quietly back to her cottage.
Chapter 7
The next morning Nina woke to a very different sound than the day before. Raising up in bed and pushing her tousled hair back from her forehead, she squinted through the window and saw Hazy outside wading through a seething mass of brown and black.
Peering more closely, she saw that the mass consisted of hundreds of very noisy ducks and geese. Patches of black and white turned out to be clumps of gulls also vying for her attention. The birds carpeted every square inch of Channel Haven drive and even some of the concrete embankment which kept the sea at bay. Hazy carried a bucket in one hand and every now and again she dipped the other into it and scattered feed for the noisy crew.
This morning Hazy had an assistant to help her, a young, red-haired boy of about fourteen years of age and he had taken over her usual duties, helping outfit the fishing boats for customers. While feeding the sea birds, Hazy politely nodded a greeting to several of the tourists—mostly men—who were lined up for a boat, but kept her attention firmly on the birds, making sure all had a fair share of grain.
“I’ll be...” Nina whispered to herself. “She really enjoys doing this.”
Then one of the white patches moved and rose up and Nina saw it was a tiny girl.
With sun-brightened white-blond hair, and wearing a lacy white dress and shiny pink plastic sandals, she raised her arms, scattering handfuls of grain across the mass of birds. Greedy quacking and honking answered her actions and Hazy laughed out loud.
Nina watched for a long time, noting the mother-daughter closeness between woman and child, until they quit feeding and went into the office, the little girl scampering behind Hazy, scattering ducks, geese and gulls with every skipping step. Who would have thought Hazy was a mother?
After showering and dressing in shorts and T-shirt, Nina walked to the office.
Hazy was just inside the door sitting at the big metal desk. She glanced up when Nina came in and then quickly returned her gaze to the magazine open before her.
“Excuse me for bothering you, Ms. Duncan, but I thought I’d let you know I may be getting some packages here by courier. I left the address with a few correspondents telling them I would be staying for a few weeks and that they could send my mail here.” She sank her teeth into her bottom lip. “I hope that’s okay. I mean, if you’d sign for them.”
“Aye, I don’t mind. Be informed, though, that you’ll have to check in and pick it up. I’ll not be responsible for running around the island looking for you.”
Nina’s cheeks flushed hot red with anger, but she had no choice but to overlook Hazy’s brusqueness, so she thanked her and turned to leave. The sudden entrance of the little girl she had seen earlier barred full departure. She ran past Nina and wrapped her arms about Hazy’s neck.
“Okay, where is it? Where is it, Mema? You’ve had long enough to hide it,” she said in a preschool lisp.
“I don’t know, ducky,” Hazy told her, grinning tenderly. “I suppose you’ll just have to find it, won’t you?”
“Come, stand up then,” the little girl told her, pulling her by the hand into the center of the room. She eyed Hazy a moment, then rapidly dove for her feet.
Hazy was wearing leather sandals and the little girl carefully lifted each foot, removed the sandal and examined it and the foot closely. She frowned and sat back on her haunches, perplexed.
Then she checked the pockets of Hazy’s shorts, even running her fingers under the waistband. Hazy giggled when the searching fingers tickled. After feeling under her shirt, the little girl pulled it away from her body and shook it vigorously. Hazy bore all this in stoic silence, an enigmatic smile lighting her features.
“Come down here,” the little girl told her imperiously. Hazy grinned wider and squatted down so the child could run tiny fingers around the neck of the shirt. Her knees popped loudly in the still room.
“Hey, no fair ticklin’,” she said, finally breaking the silence.
“Open your mouth,” the child ordered.
Hazy opened her mouth and said a loud “ahh” as the little girl tilted her head and peered inside.
Putting her hands on her hips, arms akimbo, she stamped one tiny foot in frustration. She studied Hazy closely, as if seeing what she had missed, and then gave a bark of laughter.
Grabbing Hazy with both hands, she smoothed the sides of her head.
Hazy watched calmly, twinkling eyes inches from the child’s cherubic face. “Well?” she said finally.
The little girl sighed loudly and continued her exploration.
Hearing the rustle of cellophane, she shrieked gleefully and pulled at Hazy’s left ear causing a lollipop to fall into her pudgy hand.
“You’re getting too good for me, love,” Hazy told her, “I had you thinkin’ you weren’t going to get a lolly, though, now didn’t I?”
The little girl unwrapped the treat and popped it into her Cupid’s bow mouth, smiling adorably.
Hazy rose to her feet and arched her back. “You’ve ’bout got me stumped though, I’m runnin’ out of hiding places. Give us a love now, and get on with you.”
“I love you, Mema,” the child said, hugging Hazy’s thigh.
“Ah, get on with you, little bit,” she replied, patting the child’s bottom and shooing her out the screen door.
Nina, standing just outside the door, watched as Hazy stared after the child with sad eyes. She wondered if they were moist as well. Gone was the coldness of the day before. Hazy turned then and saw that Nina was still there just outside the door watching and the coldness returned like a sudden storm.
“Miss Christie,” she muttered with unusual politeness as she left the office, the slam of the screen door echoing as she strode away.
Chapter 8
Mander was finishing up in the pantry when Nina arrived at the house later that morning. New wide shelves gleamed with a hand-rubbed finish.
“They really are lovely,” Nina told her as she admired the work.
“Why thank you. Only the finest work for you.” She smiled at Nina in a way that made her realize that Mander truly expected more from her than she was willing to give.
“Hey, did you see the bathroom on this floor?” Mander asked with little-girl excitement. “It turned out great.” She pushed past Nina and, grabbing her hand, pulled her along with her.
“Oh, yes,” Nina agreed as they crowded into the small space. “I love it already.”
And she did. It no longer looked like the lair of a wounded beast. Vanity and bath unit were in their proper places and sparkling beige tile gleamed on walls and floor.
“Thank you for all your hard work,” she said in admiration.
Mander moved close, too close, and Nina felt annoyance stir. Mander wrapped strong carpenter arms about her waist and pulled her into an embrace. Turning her head, she adroitly avoided a kiss on her mouth and took it instead on the cheek. Mander pulled back. “What’s the matter, Nina, I thought you liked women, liked me.”
Nina studied her. Even dressed in ragged jean shorts, a tight tank top, scuffed work boots and a backwards baseball cap, Mander was a fetching woman. Most women would leap at a chance to be with her. The chemistry just wasn’t there for Nina. She tried tactfully to convey her feelings to Mander.
“I’m sorry, it’s not that I don’t like you, it’s just I don’t think I’m attracted to you in that way.” She paused, her mind awhirl. “Like I said, I’ve recently come out of this bad relationship and... can we please k
eep things a bit more professional?” She was dismayed to hear a pleading note invade her voice.
Mander stepped back a few paces and eyed her warily. “Professional?”
Nina could only return her gaze, forcing her own to be unflinching and unafraid.
Finally, Mander seemed to understand, and she sighed, rubbing her forehead with the heel of her hand. “I guess I was pushing it a bit, seeing as how you’re in this new place and your grandfather dying and all. I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?”
Nina smiled. “Sure, Mander, if you can forgive me for being so hard to get along with.”
“No problem,” she replied with a tremulous smile of her own. “But do you know how gorgeous you are?”
Nina sighed with relief. This was easier ground to deal with. “Well, I think the house is gorgeous. In fact, it looks so good, maybe it needs a new name.”
“A new name.” Mander frowned. “What kind of name?”
“Oh, you know, something to make it my own, something that makes it even more special than it is now.”
“Your grandfather never called it anything other than ‘The Border’ because of its location on the island,” Mander pointed out.
“Yeah, I know,” she agreed, chewing her thumbnail, lost in thought. “Maybe I’ll call it Channel View because of the new windows or Channel Home because of where the house is.”
“They’re nice.” Mander nodded, mulling it over. “I think I like Channel Home.”
“It’s okay,” Nina answered, “but it sounds an awful lot like Channel Haven.”
Mander laughed, but sadly. “That it does. How have you been getting on there, by the way? Hazy treating you right?”
Nina shrugged. “Let’s just say I avoid her whenever possible.”
“Ah, she’s not so bad,” Mander said, fiddling with a loose piece of molding on the facing of the bathroom door. “Hazy’s had a lot of trouble in her life but she always seems to come out okay.”
“What type of trouble?” Nina asked, picturing Hazy in jail, peering through iron bars.
“Well, her parents died in a small prop plane that used to take tourists hopping about the island. Tore her up pretty bad when it crashed.”
“Oh, how awful,” Nina gasped.
“That’s not all.” Her voice dropped to a confidential tone. “Years ago she fell in love with this rich gal from one of the better families on the island. Word has it she dumped her. She’s been a real bitch ever since, excuse my language.”
“That’s okay,” she mused. “I’d have to agree with you.”
“But don’t get me wrong,” Mander added quickly, “she’s a good person if you just remember what’s inside.”
“That’s what you’ve told me. I’ll try to remember that on a daily basis while I’m there,” she answered. “Goodness knows, I’ll need something to help.”
“That bad, huh?”
“I’ve had a run-in or two with her.”
“If she gives you too much trouble, let me know. I’ve known her a long time and maybe I can get her to let up on you some. Let her know you’re okay.”
Nina bristled, feeling annoyed again. “Well, I need to go. I’m going to flake out while I’m not working. Another manuscript will rear its ugly head soon enough.”
Mander was following her to the door. “What kind of manuscript? Are you a writer? We never did get to talk about what you do.”
“I know. It was really noisy in there after the band started playing. No, I’m not a writer. I read new novels for Jennings-Ryder Books and then critique them. I’m between books now.”
“That must be fascinating,” Mander said and Nina took a few minutes to tell her how the process worked.
Later, back at Channel Haven, she contemplated her ambivalence about Mander.
All little girls harbored dreams of meeting their Prince Charming and living happily ever after. Nina had been kissed by more pseudo-princes than she cared to remember, and so, long ago, had squelched that fantasy. Turning finally to women was like coming home, a freedom natural to her. Her first woman lover had been a slightly older woman; Nina had been eighteen. Dotty had been a good, kind lover, sharing with Nina all the unique pleasures possible between women.
Her thoughts turned from the pleasure of Dotty to the shame of Rhonda. Rhonda’s betrayal had been like sawdust frosting on an ice cream cake.
Mander, now, seemed a perfectly acceptable romantic partner—attractive, charming, good to talk with. But something was lacking. The same things that had been lacking in most of the other girls she had dated after Dotty. There was just no electricity, no spark.
Even the relationship with Rhonda had obviously been lacking something. Sure, with Rhonda’s help, she had fooled herself into believing their love would last. But Nina realized now that she had always remained detached somehow, as if looking at the whole scene from someplace far away. Rhonda’s every act had been judged by her too-analytical mind, watched and weighed from some other place. Perhaps Rhonda had seen this. Maybe that was why she had bailed out. Her first love, Dotty, on the other hand, had offered kisses that easily sucked Nina up into them, gentle tornadoes that never let her feet touch ground. No other woman had taken her there yet and she had to admit she was becoming a bit discouraged. Maybe she was destined to be alone forever.
And now Mander. Could she be different than the others? Should she take a chance on her and hope for something to ignite?
She pondered this question long and hard as she sat on the edge of the dock next to the pilings where the rental boats were moored. The ocean lapping about her ankles was mesmerizing, and hours slipped away as she pondered her own life along with the busy crustacean life in the water beneath the planking.
Over to her left, a family—visitors to the island by their Illinois license plates—was gathering around the dock area pointing out the wonders of the sea to one another.
One son, an older teenager, had cast a crab pot into the water and hauled up an enormous horseshoe crab. Nina smiled at the mother’s and young daughter’s shrieks of horror as they ran to the safety of their cottage.
The two sons and the father laughed noisily. Holding the occupied crab net high, the older son chased his younger sister all the way to the cottage door.
This was all she wanted, Nina thought, a real family. She wanted to have a relationship like the relationship her parents had—two highly individual people coming together on equal ground and deciding to make a life together. Was this too much to ask?
This was all she had asked of Rhonda. And she had really believed this was what Rhonda had wanted as well. They had planned an entire life together. A life perhaps not filled with great passion but with great fondness, certainly.
Feeling defeated and very much alone, Nina strode into her cottage.
The sun set without her as witness; she was sleeping in front of the mindlessly blaring television.
Chapter 9
Early the next day, Nina decided to retreat into her own cocoon until she felt better about her life. She curled up on the sofa with an old favorite paperback, enjoying the island sounds that surrounded her. Then she spied Hazy puttering about the boat rental dock and had a sudden inspiration.
After getting a drink of water to bolster herself and brushing her long hair into obedience, she mustered courage and walked outside.
Approaching the dock, she replayed in her mind what Mander had told her earlier as well as the tender scene she had witnessed between Hazy and her little girl. Could she really be as mean and irascible as she appeared?
Hazy was crouched down into a deep knee bend examining the lower side of one of the small white motorboats kept ready and waiting for customers.
Nina approached cautiously. “Ms. Duncan?”
Hazy turned and looked up at Nina, blue eyes squinting in the harsh mid-morning sun. “Aye?”
“I was wondering if you would mind telling me the rules and regulations of the wildlife preserve.”
Her wo
rds were spoken rapidly and without much thought. She only knew she felt compelled to talk to this curious woman. “I wanted to take some photographs but find I’m unaware of what I can and cannot do,” she finished lamely.
Hazy eyed her a moment, then stood impatiently. “And I look like a tour guide, do I?”
Nina felt her back stiffening. Damn the woman! She was only trying to be friendly.
“No, not really. I just figured that since you’re a local, you’d know.”
Hazy looked out across the channel, a brisk wind ruffling her white-gold hair. “Let me tell you something, miss. The locals aren’t the ones who know the rules the gov’ment sets for the islands. We don’t give a fig about them. Our claim on the island is a whole lot more substantial than theirs.”
Nina was intrigued that Hazy felt this way. “How do you mean?”
“It’s in the blood.”
Hazy bent to retrieve a length of rope and, with the power of habit, began to wind it about her elbow and wrist. Impatiently. She shook the circle of rope off her arm when it ran out and then stowed it in the back of one of the boats.
She looked at Nina with indecision, her sun-chapped lips poised as if to speak. Something in Nina’s eyes, genuine interest perhaps, must have touched her for she continued. “My father wasn’t originally from the islands but came here before I was born. My mother, on the other hand, was the daughter of one of the original fishing families—had lived here the whole of her life.”
She paused and brushed windblown debris from the top of a nearby piling. “The pull of the island is so great that, growin’ up, the children in my family never learned much about my father’s home country, although he did teach us the language so we could understand him when he lost his temper and cursed at us.” She laughed lightly.
Nina smiled, enjoying her first glimpse of Hazy’s capacity for merriment. Hazy’s cold blue eyes had softened remarkably.
“But the point I’m tryin’ to make, probably not very well, is once the island’s in your blood, whether from birth or a long life lived here, nothing else much matters. It’s all about the comin’ and goin’ of the tide, about when the birds leave for the winterin’, and the weight of the ponies’ coats telling how harsh the winter weather will be…”