by Stephen Bly
Tony drove to Barbara Mason’s house, but didn’t go in. He headed back to Fox Island and reached the bridge when he remembered Price’s suggestion to check at Kim’s and Jessica Reynolds’ convalescent home. By dark he hiked up the overgrown walk to the white caulked log cabin on Gibson Point. A four-totem pole peered from behind overgrown shrubs like an ancient grotesque sentinel.
To reach the front porch, he rolled aside a four-foot wagon wheel, which slid into a groove in the dirt that seemed to be its permanent position. Only a screen door separated him from the cluttered front room. Walls crammed with darkly painted unframed artist’s canvases. On the floor, paint tubes scattered around three separate easels.
He knocked. “Excuse me? Anyone home?” Surely no one would wander off and leave everything turned on and opened up. “Kim? Are you home?” He heard a rumble from the back of the cabin.
“She ain’t here!”
“Kim’s not here?”
“That’s what I said. Go away.”
“Have you seen Melody Mason?”
“No!”
“Who are you?”
“Amigo.”
“Hey, Amigo, I’d like to talk to you.”
A tall man with shaved head and wearing only jeans finally emerged in the dim light. The left side of his entire body was painted black, the right side blue. “Yeah? What are you staring at?”
“Your suntan.”
“What about it?”
“I’m looking for Melody. When Kim comes in, could you please ask her to phone the Shadowbrooks at Melody’s grandmother’s place?”
“Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t. Are you Melody’s old man?”
“No. I’m her… I’m sort of like her father.”
“No foolin’?”
“And no foolin’ around. Understand?”
“Si, yo comprendo.”
“Bueno. Adios, Amigo.”
Tony didn’t spot the VW bus at the convalescent home, and didn’t bother asking if Melody had been there, not wanting to disturb Jessica Reynolds. Finally, he returned home to find a brand-new black Dodge pickup blocking the driveway. He parked on the lawn. “Great. We’ve got company.”
Fast, high-pitched female voices caught his attention as he hung his cowboy hat on a hallway peg. “Price?” he called.
She stepped to the hall, her face reflecting a blend of tanned Arizona charm and professorial dignity. “Melody’s here. We’ve got lots of news for you.”
Inside the kitchen, he saw Melody and another girl about Melody’s age, in jeans and blue-and-black plaid long-sleeved shirt, auburn braids twisted on top of her head. She inhaled Diet Coke and potato chips. Melody’s dark hair pulled back in a wavy roll on the sides and hung down long with ringlets in the back.
“Hi, Mr. S. Sorry I caused you to worry. Actually, it feels sort of nice to have someone worry about me. It’s been a long time. This is Kim.”
Olive-skinned Kim hopped down from the counter stool and held out her hand. A little shorter than Melody, Tony noticed a small rose tattoo on the back of her right hand. “Mr. Shadowbrook, Mel has told me so much about you. I feel like I know you already.”
“I believe I just met a friend of yours at your place.”
“Who?”
“Amigo.”
“Not at my place?”
Tony nodded.
“Is he in the cabin? Or out front?”
“He’s definitely inside.”
“What color was he?”
Price handed Tony a Coke.
“Black and blue.”
“Oh yeah, right, sure. Today he decides to be black and blue. But he spent the last two weeks orange and purple. Well, it’s too late. He already ruined it for us.” Kim swung around to Melody as one of her braids dropped out of its nest. “I’m staying with you tonight. I’m not about to go home if he’s black and blue.”
Tony turned to Price whose eyes narrowed as she shrugged. “Is that your new pickup, Kim?” he asked.
“It’s mine,” Melody piped in.
Tony’s head jerked toward the window. “Yours?”
“See, here’s the thing. I did a pretty good job with stock trading this past quarter, so I treated myself to a new vehicle. Sure I’ll have payments, but what with the teaching job, I figured I could do it. After I visited Mom, I picked up Kim and we drove to Tacoma and I bought that sucker.”
“That’s great,” Tony replied, “but why a truck?”
“You said my VW looked like the ultra radical tree huggers’, so I wanted something to express my personality better.”
“What expression does a a new black Dodge pickup make?” Price asked.
Kim giggled. “That she’s looking for a cowboy.”
Melody grinned from earring to earring.“ He doesn’t have to be a cowboy. He just has to look like one.”
Kim crunched an empty bag of chips. “Mel, let’s go cruising.”
“On Fox Island?” several voices echoed.
“Nah, let’s drive up to Bremerton and Silverdale.”
“Yeah, let’s do it. Dr. S., you’ll have to fill in on the call to Mr. Bennington. Don’t stay up for me. Mr. S., can I borrow one of your cowboy hats?”
Tony handed her his old gray hat with a slight rip in the brim. “Take good care of it.” He shook his head as Melody and Kim roared up the driveway. “Well, Mother,” he drawled, “our little girl is growing up.”
“Sometimes it does seem like we’re raising her.”
Tony grimaced. “As long as she doesn’t move back to Scottsdale with us. And to think, we’ve only known her seven weeks. Come on, kid. You’re looking a lot better. Tell me about the conversation with Bennington.”
Tony and Price settled onto the sofa. The light from the kitchen reflected into the darkened room. The open curtains of the front sliding windows revealed a few stars flickering through the nighttime reflections. Price cuddled close to Tony in the shadows.
“You feeling better, darlin’?”
“Yes, thank you. Oh, I guess I’m a little envious.”
“Of whom?”
She laughed. “Of Melody’s new pickup.”
“Women and pickup trucks. It’s a western tradition, isn’t it?”
“Or a statement of independence. Anyway, was this Amigo guy really painted black and blue?”
“Yep.”
“No wonder Kim doesn’t want to go home.”
“I was just wondering what we’d do if one of our girls brought home a guy with body paint.”
“He’d probably get to see the barrel end of her daddy’s gun collection.”
“Tell me about Bennington.”
“You were right about his health. He doesn’t think he has many weeks left. There’s no way he can come back to the West Coast.”
“Did you find out why he came out?”
“He explained it all to Melody, so I got it second-hand. He met her mother’s Auntie Jill in Boston in May of 1942. Jessica had just eloped with Mr. Reynolds. Jill went to a War Bond rally to hear Benny Goodman. The war was raging in Europe and the Pacific, and Bennington knew he would be called up any day. So a bunch of them, guys and gals, went to New York for one last fling. And… he and Jill… well…”
“Had a good time?”
“That’s one way to put it. Anyway, she called him a few weeks later to tell him she thought she was pregnant and she wanted to talk to him about it. They were supposed to meet at a certain cafe. But he panicked and didn’t show.”
“He stood her up?”
“That’s about it, except he told Melody he wrote a note to her at Radcliffe later on, but it was returned marked undeliverable. After the war he went back to college on the GI bill, then got into trading stocks and bonds.”
“And now he’s with CMI?”
“He’s chairman of the board.”
“You’re kidding.”
“That’s what he claims. When he found out he was dying of cancer, he suddenly became acutely aware of the failure
s in his life. His wife died a few years ago, and his only child, a daughter, lives in Rio.”
“Brazil?”
“Yes. He said she hasn’t spoken to him in years.”
“So, he’s a lonely old rich man, dying with memories of personal failure?” Tony mused.
“That’s about it. He said he wrote down twelve things he wanted to do before he died, and apologizing to Jill was one of them.”
“He’s about fifty-some years too late for that.”
“He was pretty stunned to learn Jill died in 1942. All this time he’s lived with the idea that on Fox Island there was a lady and grown child who hated him.”
“And Jessica?”
“He figures Jill must have told her sister about the pregnancy and how he ran out on her and that’s the reason she’s still so mad at him.”
“If Jill was pregnant, then a baby died, too, in that wreck. Another reason the thought of it haunts Jessica.”
“He didn’t think it would help for him to speak to Jessica. He could tell her nothing new. And if she didn’t know Jill was expecting, he thinks it’s best not to bring it up.”
“He’s probably right.”
“He’s a very humbled, hurting old man.”
“Living with the consequences of his actions.”
“Look at the misery that action caused generations to suffer. He needs to find God’s forgiveness before he dies.”
“‘What does it profit a man to gain the whole world and lose his soul?’”
“That’s the same verse I thought of. He officially apologized to Melody as a representative of the whole Davenport family.”
“How did Melody take it?”
“She was stunned at first, then upset. Now, I think she’s proud.”
“Proud of what?”
“She sees herself as one to carry on the Davenport tradition on the Island. This is her cross to bear, the family secret Davenports must endure forever.”
“And the new pickup helps to ease her burden?”
“That’s for sure. Did you ever see a gal giggle so much?”
“Yep. When you first drove home the Mustang convertible.”
“I didn’t giggle.”
“You did too.”
“I might have been moderately happy, maybe a refined chuckle or two, but I certainly didn’t…” She could see the sparkle in his blue eyes.
“You giggled like a junior high girl after her first kiss.”
“And how does Mr. I-never-dated-anyone-but-you-babe know that junior high girls giggle after their first kiss?”
“You told me.”
“Oh.”
Chapter 8
Almost a year before the bridge opened, the U.S.S. Bashaw became the first submarine to run the Navy Acoustic Range at the recently constructed facilities on Fox Island. Most submarine testing is done these days in Southeast Alaska, but research and development continues at “The Naval Surface Warfare Center, Fox Island Acoustic Laboratory.” Located at the end of a tree-lined lane, the inconspicuous unit is dedicated to generating procedures and equipment for measuring underwater acoustics for ship silencers. While the urgency for development of such devices has lessened with the demise of the Cold War, being prepared for the unknown future drives researchers to continue experimenting.
Unknown futures tend to motivate us all.
Sometime after midnight, Price, Tony, and Melody returned to the house exhausted.
“You didn’t warn us a day at your Fox Island Fair would be so wearing.” Price kicked off her teal and purple tennis shoes and claimed the whole couch for herself.
Melody collapsed on the navy chair, feet stretched on a tapestry footstool. “We don’t usually have some wacko run into the middle, painted in tiger stripes, yelling ‘set my people free!’ and chasing the entire petting zoo into the woods. Mr. S., I still can’t believe you roped that Angora rabbit.”
“I roped the donkey, the Shetland, and the llama, but you can’t toss a loop on a rabbit. My nylon rope must have slapped up against him hard enough to stun him until he was caught.” Tony pulled off his boots with a wooden bootjack, then sat on the brick hearth and tugged down his socks.
“I don’t suppose as much money was raised as they had hoped,” Price added, “what with everyone tramping over the Island looking for Fluffy, Pierre, Nigel… and the rest of the animals.”
“That’s one fair no one will forget.” Tony got up and stretched. “Are you sure it was Amigo who set them loose?”
“Yeah, I’d recognize that body paint anywhere,” Melody insisted.
“Tulip said she had nothing to do with it, and I believe her,” Price injected. “We don’t agree on much, but I don’t think she wanted those animals running out into the night to get hurt.”
“She was a big help out in the woods rounding them up,” Tony added.
“You two were in the woods a long time….” Price thought about giving him a suspicious look but was just too tired.
“I figured it was my civic duty.”
“What? Chasing animals? Or frolicking with a professional wood nymph?”
Tony shuffled off to the kitchen.
“Mr. S.,” Melody called, “can you bring me a Diet Coke? Thanks.” Then she turned to Price. “Amigo used to work for them, you know.”
“He worked as an environmental activist?”
“Yeah, when he was still in college. Lots of students do it in the summer. It can be pretty good pay, especially if you’re still mooching room and board at home.”
“They hire protesters?”
“Sure. It pays up to $8.00 an hour, and all you have to do is hold a sign and scream an occasional obscenity. Every spring and summer the want ads are crammed with job offers. But I think Amigo was too weird even for them. I never thought I’d see Tulip and Harvey Peterson working side by side on anything.”
“Most issues aren’t as black and white as folks make them out to be. Very few people want to see animals needlessly harmed.” Tony balanced cold drinks on a tray. “There’s points to be made on all sides. We couldn’t have found half the animals without Harvey’s infrared night vision scope.”
“Why would anyone own such a device?” Price asked. “What legal reason does anyone have for wanting to see in the dark?”
“I don’t want to know,” Melody yawned. “I wonder if they’ll ever find the two turkeys or the armadillo?” She took a deep swig of her soda. “It was sort of fun, like a big, all-island scavenger hunt.”
Tony laughed. “Maybe it will become an annual affair—The Fox Island Diversified Animal Night Roundup.”
“We haven’t been this united since the county tried to change our street names to numbers corresponding to Tacoma. Can you imagine having a 132nd Street on Fox Island? I can’t remember ever working together quite like we did tonight.”
Tony pulled a dining chair into the living room and sank down on it. “Here.” Price yawned and pointed to the end of the couch, but he stayed put.
“I spent all day responding to thirty-two letters, and all night chasing animals. And all I want to do is write books.”
“Do you get much fan mail?” Melody asked.
“He keeps pretty busy with correspondence, for a minor celebrity,” Price responded.
“A minor celebrity?”
“That’s what our son Josh calls his dad. A few years ago Tony appeared on a television show where the host spent several minutes clarifying who he was and what he had written. Josh decided that true celebrities need only their name for an introduction, but minor celebrities need a whole explanation. So we call him a minor celebrity.”
“You’re the most famous author I’ve ever met,” Melody assured him.
Tony jumped to his feet at the sound of the telephone. “It’s never good news after midnight,” he mumbled. “Shadowbrooks.”
“Daddy, it’s me, Kath.”
“What is it? What’s wrong, babe?”
“Nothing. I’ve just tried to call you all
night and you just got home.”
“What’s up? Is Kit all right?”
“How would I know? I haven’t seen her since this morning. When I got home from work, I found a note saying that she and Line were going to a movie, then out to fix someone’s car.”
“I’m sure she’ll be home soon. Why did you call?”
“Josh was trying to get ahold of you. When he couldn’t reach you, he asked me to be sure and call.”
“Is he all right?”
“Is who all right?” Price called from the couch.
“Josh,” Tony said.
“What emergency ward is he in?”
“What happened, Kath?”
“Nothing, Daddy, relax. Josh got a call this afternoon that they needed him and Paul to fly up to Seattle tonight to do some sort of stunt on a water tower for a TV show. I guess the regular guys got hurt or something. Anyway, Josh hopped on a plane and flew up there. He was thinking maybe it would work out to visit you and Mom.”
Tony turned to Price. “Josh is in Seattle. Right now.”
“Anyway, Daddy, he said he’d call you when he could.
They’re supposed to only be there one day, and he doesn’t think he’ll have a rental car.”
“Does he need to stay here tonight?”
“No. They’re shooting the scene at some little town near Mount Rainier in the morning, so they’re driving straight to the set. I just thought one of you might want to hang around your place tomorrow, in case he called.”
“Thanks, Kath. How’s Kit’s new job going?”
“I wouldn’t know. We don’t talk much. She spends most of her time on the phone with good old line.”
“Now, that’s a switch. She usually doesn’t talk more than three minutes on the phone to anyone, including your mother.”
“She was on the telephone two hours and forty-three minutes last night,” Kathy reported. “Not that it makes any difference to me.”
“Look after her, Kath. You’ve had more experience with this sort of thing. Good night, kid.”
When he explained the conversation, Melody scooted out the door and the Shadowbrooks got ready for bed.
Tony dreamed of stumbling through a brushy, overgrown forest at night, trying to rope wild turkeys while being chased by a large, vicious Angora rabbit.
Price dreamed of young men jumping off water towers, each one higher than the next. The last one overshadowed Mount Rainier.