Last Light over Carolina

by Mary Alice Monroe

  Carolina brought the wine to her lips, tasting its sweetness.

  “Sit,” he offered again, pulling out a chair.

  Carolina slid into the folding chair. She recognized it as one they’d stored in their shed. He must’ve taken the chairs and table out and scrubbed the mold from the vinyl for tonight.

  Bud pulled out the chair opposite her and stretched out his long legs as he eased into it. He took another sip of his wine. Carolina felt the man was stalling, looking for the right thing to say. When he lowered his glass, his eyes were troubled and his jaw worked in a silent struggle.

  “I’ve missed you,” he said simply.

  “I missed you, too.”

  He exhaled and shook his head. “I don’t know how to do this.”

  She laughed lightly. “I don’t either. But you’ve made a wonderful start,” she said, indicating the table, the wine, the lit lantern that was glowing in the dimming light. “It means a lot to me. It tells me you want to try.” She paused, her fingers tightening around her glass. “You do, don’t you? Want to try?”

  “Do you?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  He took a deep breath and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “After, you know, I found out—my life was crazy. I was angry all the time. I thought it was over between us.”

  “But now?”

  He shrugged. “I went to see Father Frank. He said we owe it to our marriage to try to work it out.”

  Carolina was surprised to hear that Bud had gone to see Father Frank. He hardly ever went to church. She was very moved. “I went to see Father Frank, too.”

  “The thing is, I don’t know if I can ever fully trust you again. I’m not saying I wouldn’t give it a chance. But we can’t act like this didn’t happen, and I can’t act like I’m not wounded. I can try to forgive, but I can’t promise you anything.”

  “Bud, I know this is going to take time,” she said. “You’re still hurt and angry. And so am I.”

  “What have you got to be angry about?”

  “Didn’t you hear anything I told you?”

  “At least I didn’t cheat on you. I almost did a few times. A lot of guys fool around. But I was faithful.”

  Carolina put down her glass and rose from her seat. There was no talking to Bud when he was in this mood. “I’m going now.”

  He shot out his hand but held it in midair, not touching her. “Carolina, wait. I was shooting from the hip.” He lowered his voice. “I don’t want you to go. Let me try this again. Please?”

  She fought back tears and leaned against the boat’s railing. She lifted her face to the offshore breeze. “Bud, this is going to take a long time. And at the end, we may find we can’t make it work.”

  “I know. Father Frank told me I had to admit to my part in all this. To understand why you were so unhappy. It made me realize, for the first time, that it wasn’t all you.”

  Carolina felt hope rising. “He told me that there was no timetable to regain your trust. Or your forgiveness.”

  Bud nodded his head.

  “Bud, if I could go back in time and undo that night, I would. I can’t. But I can work with you to rebuild our marriage. I’ll work hard, I promise. But you have to meet me halfway.”

  “Carolina, I want to forgive you.”

  She felt her composure begin to crack. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

  “Come back to me,” he said in a hoarse voice.

  Carolina paused and pulled her hair from her face. She needed to explain her position clearly—now, before emotion swept her away.

  “Bud, I want to. Very much. And I don’t want to make demands now. But there are underlying problems in our marriage that we need to solve or we won’t prevent them from happening again.”

  “What problems?”

  “If you’re willing to give us another shot, then we have to agree—no more off-season trips to Florida. No more long separations. They’re not good for us. They’ll break us.”

  “Carolina—”

  “There are other ways to earn money in the off-season. We both know that. This is a bottom line for me, Bud. I can’t go back to the life we had before. We both have to make changes.”

  “You know that if I can’t make it, we’ll lose the house.”

  “Then we’ll lose the house. Better that than our marriage.”

  “But White Gables means the world to you.”

  “You mean more.”

  Bud’s eyes intensified. He knew what that statement cost her.

  “Bud, I have to believe in my heart of hearts that someday you’ll forgive me and trust me again. I can hang on if I know that we’ll move on from this. But if you don’t believe you can, then we shouldn’t put ourselves through this ordeal. It’ll be too painful. The anger and resentment between us will fester and eat away at us. We’ll end up hating each other.” Her voice broke. “I don’t ever want to hate you. I couldn’t bear that. You don’t hate me, do you, Bud?”

  He shook his head, then stepped closer. Emotion swam in his eyes as he placed his hands on either side of her head and studied each feature. Lowering his head, he covered her lips with his. His mouth spoke of all the pain and longing and regret and passion that went beyond words.

  This was Bud, she thought, relishing the feel of his arms, his chest, his smell, his skin. She welcomed the familiar way he covered her mouth with his, the way his calloused hands moved across her body. His kiss was possessive and raw. She felt a flame spark deep inside and turn into a swirling heat that scorched away her sins.

  Bud took her hand and led her below to his cabin, undressing her and laying her naked on his bed. This was his domain. Carolina lifted her arms in surrender, feeling the crush of his weight, strong and secure. She was blanketed with memories of a lifetime.

  Afterward, they lay side by side on their backs, staring at the ceiling as the boat rocked in gentle waves. Carolina heard the occasional splash of fish jumping and the muffled, monotonous thump-thump of boats as they bumped against the rubber-wheel padding on the docks. She remembered back to their first nights together, when she’d lived and worked with him on the sea. She felt hope stir in her heart, but knew that though their commitment tonight was a first step, the journey to forgiveness would be long and arduous.

  September 21, 2008

  On board the Miss Carolina

  Bud’s skin was sweaty even though the air had turned cooler after the storm. He began to shiver and his throat was parched. He’d ripped another large swatch of fabric from his shirt to cover his head. He had to keep his body protected in any way he could. What he wouldn’t give for a beer right now, he thought, and the vision of his fridge in the galley, stocked with cold ones, almost caused him to groan.

  Where were they? he wondered. How long would it take them to find him? He was getting worried he was drifting off course. If someone came looking for him and he’d drifted too far, it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.

  He felt like he’d spent a lifetime already on this boat. Each minute of the day had been measured by drops of his blood. The blood was everywhere. And it was lonely out here. His only visitors were a pelican and the seagulls that sat on the rigging, staring down at him like vultures.

  Bud had been alone on the sea many times in his life. He knew how long the hours and how vast the ocean could seem when one was alone in the pilothouse. He’d felt no sense of impatience. He’d chat on the radio, read, or find something to do to while away the time. But trapped, stranded without purpose—this was a deeper depth of loneliness than he’d ever experienced.

  Bud looked down at his life’s blood pooling beside him and thought of the many times Carolina had told him that she was lonely.

  16

  September 21, 2008, 2:00 p.m.

  Coastal Seafood, McClellanville

  Judith slipped the hood of her slicker over her head as the first faint drops of rain were carried in by the wind. She gazed over Carolina’s shoulder with a puzzled expression
. “Will you look at that? Here comes the cavalry. I wonder what’s up.”

  Carolina turned to see Oz marching across the gravel, his large forearms pumping with exertion. He was leading the group of older men like a ragtag army.

  “They’re just getting out of the rain,” Carolina replied.

  “No, something’s got them riled.” Judith pointed and said incredulously, “Why is Pee Dee here?”

  Carolina spotted Pee Dee lagging behind the group. She felt a chill and looked over at Judith. They shared a look of alarm.

  “Come on,” Judith said.

  They hurried to climb from the boat and met Oz near the warehouse.

  “Oz, what’s going on?” Judith asked. “What’s Pee Dee doing here?”

  Oz paused and tried to catch his breath. “That sumbitch didn’t show up this morning. Bud’s out there alone. On the Carolina.”

  “Alone?” Carolina exclaimed. “With a storm out there?”

  “It’s that no-’count’s fault my boy is out there,” he said, pointing to Pee Dee. “I could kill him.”

  “Whoa, hold on,” Judith said. “It’s the captain’s decision to take a boat out. You know that. Carolina, didn’t you say he was due in around noon?”

  She nodded. “He said he was only going out for one haul.”

  Judith checked her watch. “It’s just two. He could be coming in now. Let’s not get emotional and jump to conclusions.”

  As if to mock her, the wind gusted and the first wave of rain began falling.

  “I don’t need you to tell me what to do, missy,” Oz grumbled. “We’re going in to find out if anyone’s heard from him. Now, get out of my way, ladies, before we get drenched.”

  He pushed past Judith and Carolina with an arrogant shove.

  Judith’s face flushed and she slanted her gaze after the old man limping toward the office. “Who the hell does he think he is, Captain Bligh?”

  Carolina knew Judith couldn’t abide being treated as less worthy than a man on the dock. She shifted her gaze to where Pee Dee lurked under the awning with a sad, guilty face, reminding her of a mongrel that’d been beaten by his master’s hand.

  “Come on,” she said to Judith. “Let’s find out what Oz has in mind.”

  Oz’s booming voice was louder than the thunder of the breaking storm. When they stepped into the office of Coastal Seafood, the small space was crowded with the five captains. Oz stood at the front talking to Lee, his hands gesticulating wildly. Lee was leaning against the desk of his office manager, Gloria, a middle-aged, heavyset woman with platinum hair and a no-nonsense attitude. She didn’t bother to get up, but leaned back in her chair and kept a wary eye on the group of men.

  Lee was in his fifties now, but still years younger than all of the men in the room save for Pee Dee. His hair was streaked with gray, and he looked distinguished in his bright polo shirt and khaki pants. Carolina knew that it was the fact that most of the men in the room were in hock to Lee that gave him his power. His hands were on his hips, and he listened with the aura of a man accustomed to providing answers. Lee raised his hands, silencing the group. His searching eyes met Carolina’s. She couldn’t read his emotions.

  “Carolina, you said Bud was coming in at noon?” Lee asked.

  She nodded. “That’s what he told me.”

  “That fits. He had an order to fill at one.”

  All eyes went to the wall clock. It was now quarter past two. She felt the tension in the room rise.

  Lee looked around the room. “Anyone know what time he left port?”

  Old Tom lifted his hand. He’d seen the commotion from the warehouse and followed the men into the office. He spoke in his heavy drawl. “I seen him go out sometime around five thirty. He been runnin’ late on account’a he was waiting on Pee Dee.”

  Several men grumbled while Oz spat out profanities about Pee Dee’s lineage, ending up demanding that he get the hell out of the room. Emotions rose and the room grew loud as the captains began arguing among themselves. Carolina put her hand to her forehead. She couldn’t take Oz’s belligerence now. The Hagg moved closer to his old friend and told Oz to settle down. Meanwhile, Pee Dee slunk unnoticed by all but Carolina from the office.

  Captain Wayne Magwood made his way toward Gloria’s desk, which had become a makeshift podium. He was the patriarch of an old and revered fishing family in Shem Creek. When he rapped the wood, everyone settled down to listen.

  “Let’s not get away from ourselves and think this through,” Magwood began. “If you figure it takes an hour or more to get where you’re going, right? And a drag takes two to four hours…” He rubbed his jaw, calculating. “Even if he only took in one haul, like he said, even working alone, way I see it, he should have made it in by now.”

  “Could be he had some trouble,” offered Woody. “A mechanical problem.”

  “Or got something caught in a net,” added the Hagg.

  “He woulda called someone if he’d done that,” said Oz, dismissing that option. “And there ain’t nobody can fix a mechanical problem like my boy.”

  Carolina heard the emotion rumbling under those words and clenched her lips tight.

  Lee moved to place a hand on Oz’s shoulder. “The first thing to do is see if we can reach him or if anyone’s seen him.” He clapped Oz’s shoulder, then headed toward the marine-band radio. “Y’all can wait here, if you like. Gloria, would you make some coffee?”

  “You got anything stronger?” asked Woody, and he was met with chuckles and rejoinders, a welcome relief in the tension.

  Gloria rose reluctantly and walked to the small kitchen to oblige. Lee moved to sit in front of the marine-band radio and opened channels.

  “This is Lee Edwards. We’re trying to locate Bud Morrison. Anybody out there seen the Miss Carolina?”

  The radio crackled while outside the thunder rumbled closer. The men gathered around, listening in. Carolina moved to the front and sat down. She felt her chest constrict and started shaking. This was really happening. Carolina was struck with the stark realization of what her life would be like without Bud.

  Answers began coming in from the boats. Captain Gay reported seeing Bud at first light. According to him, the Miss Carolina had passed them and moved on to points south. Lee jotted down the coordinates. A few other boats had seen him early as well, all reporting the same direction. There was talk about starting a search.

  After a while, Lee turned from the radio and rose to stand beside Oz. He looked the room over. “Nobody’s seen the Miss Carolina since dawn,” he said somberly. “We can’t reach Bud by radio. He’s not answering.”

  “Could be he cut the radio of ’cause he found shrimp,” said Magwood.

  “Or he got delayed in the storm,” offered Woody.

  Lee cleared his throat. Silence fell in the room. His gaze searched out Carolina. She rose to her feet. Judith stood beside Carolina and grasped her hand.

  “I think it’s time we call in the Coast Guard,” Lee said.

  September 21, 2008

  McClellanville

  Word that Bud Morrison, a beloved son, was overdue spread like wildfire through McClellanville. The close-knit village responded with an alacrity that came from a century of search-and-rescue experience.

  In the office of Coastal Seafood, the captains sprang into action. Time was of the essence. The men huddled over maps, piecing together the coordinates and prevailing winds to track where Bud might be. The ocean was vast. But the old captains knew this stretch of coastline better than any men alive. They pooled their knowledge to come up with a plan of action.

  Once they had likely coordinates, Lee manned the radio again. It was an all-out search for the Miss Carolina. Men who competed with each other out at sea, who lied to their best friends and brothers as to where the shrimp might be, pulled together to search for their fellow captain. Boats already out at sea pulled in their nets. On shore, captains forgot about the expense and readied their boats to head out. Each man knew if
it were him lost out there, the community would have his back.

  “All tanks can be filled, no charge,” Lee called out.

  Carolina had been sitting ignored in the back, but she stood up at hearing this, shocked. At three thousand to five thousand dollars a boat, Carolina could do the math. She made her way through the crowded room to Lee. She hadn’t spoken directly to him in a personal way for years. He was bent over the maps, listening to a current wind report. Carolina placed a tentative hand on his arm.

  “Lee…”

  He swung his head around. His brows gathered over pale, tired eyes.

  “I want to thank you—”

  Lee cut her off. “I owe him.”

  Carolina closed her mouth and dropped her hand. Lee turned back to the maps without another word.

  As thunder rolled overhead and lightning flashed, Oz limped to the door, calling out, “Listen up! Everyone, listen up!” His face was unshaven, his eyes rheumy, and he tottered on his gimp leg as he waved his arms to get their attention.

  “I’m taking out the Cap’n and Bobby,” Oz shouted above the din. “I need a crew. Anybody know someone available?”

  There was sudden quiet as faces turned toward the old man. Everyone in that room knew that Oz had not taken the Cap’n and Bobby out of dock since Bobby had disappeared. He’d cleaned it, paid dockage, and kept it as a monument to his lost son.

  “I’ll go,” Lee called back.

  Oz met his gaze. “I appreciate it, son, but we need you here to coordinate.”

  Other names were shouted out and pens pulled from pockets as a sea posse was quickly assembled.

  Judith came to Carolina’s side. She took Carolina’s hands and shook them gently. “You hang in there. We’ll find him.”

  “I…I don’t like to think of him alone out there,” Carolina said in a taut voice.

  “I ran a boat by myself for years. I did okay without any deckhand. Sometimes I think it was easier. Listen, Bud’s a pro. He could run a boat in his sleep. And if something did go wrong, he’d know how to handle it.” She looked closely at Carolina’s drawn face. “I don’t know about you, though.”