Catching Kate (Scenic Route to Paradise)

by Andrea Aarons

  The motor had started. It was time to cast off.

  Although an obviously young dog, maybe eight or nine weeks old, Coco was huge. Zeff hoped Merry would reclaim the little beast before the pup got too big. He closed the door, leaving her napping.

  Merry had been back from her pet shopping spree less than an hour when she heard the motor turn over. She came out of the stateroom and up the companionway to see if she could be of any help.

  Zeff was on the dock releasing the lines and the others were helping Mac get underway. They pulled away from the dock and from Cape Town. Merry wondered when she would see the place again.

  She wanted to help but there seemed nothing to do. Watching the lights, the skyline and in the distance the planes descending toward the airport her tummy slightly skipped. The sensation reminded her of the times when the Holy Spirit confirmed a scripture or a sermon she had heard but now her mind drew a blank. A stirring within continued as she concentrated on the receding view.

  The repaired motor was purring loud enough to cover any muffled barking coming from the bow of the sloop.

  Junior and Tino were finishing breakfast in the galley, when Junior suddenly asked, “Hey, what’s that stuff in the hold?” Tino was cleaning up his pancakes and sausage.

  With a mouth full of breakfast, his reply was indiscernible but Merry said, “Dry ice. Mac bought it for the Rock Lobster were picking up tonight.”

  The engines had been shut down once they were out of sight of Cape Town and the mainsail hoisted to catch the steady breeze. Mac calculated they would arrive before midnight on Tuesday. They couldn’t pick up the lobster until after dark; Rock Lobster was out of season right now and not available for sale.

  D’Almatan sailors had been picking up Rock Lobster, in and out of season for centuries. It was a delicacy on D’Almata and every wealthy household kept a freezer full. In truth, the South African lobster was a glorified crawdad as Dale once informed his younger sister, Merry.

  Mac had dealt with the lobster warehouse off the point of Elands Bay in the past and he foresaw no difficulties arising.

  Mac came in and sat to eat breakfast. “Junior, get Zeff up. Tell him breakfast is about to be demolished but if he hurries, I won’t eat it all,” Mac said as Junior washed up his plate.

  Mac and Tino were talking and Merry looking over a recipe for dinner, when first Junior and then, the Boerboel puppy came scampering through the walk-through into the galley. Junior was pretending to be scared by the growling clumsy puppy at his heels. Junior continued through with pup in chase oblivious to Mac’s stunned look at the dog’s noisy presence.

  Tino seeing his face, responded by getting up to wash his plate. Merry giggled at the antics of Junior and the oversized puppy but when she looked to Mac she sobered.

  “I gave the little beast away... just like you instructed. Here comes her new owner,” she said nodding toward Zeff who came ambling into the galley from his forward cabin. Mac gave her a look that she knew meant “unfinished business.”

  To Zeff, Mac said, “If I knew you had a bunkmate, I wouldn’t have asked you to take the nightwatch.” Zeff grinned but made only a good morning reply in Spanish.

  Tino went above as Zeff helped himself to the remaining food. Merry began speaking to Mac about the Bible study they had been having for the past few weeks. Mac replied, “Merry, what good is it to have Bible study if you are going to undermine my leadership? I’m very new to Christianity but I know a few things about how a kingdom is organized - including God’s Kingdom.” Zeff saw Merry look over to him but Zeff looking down, pretended to be more interested in the salt and pepper at the center of the table than their discussion.

  Merry told him, “Mac let’s continue this conversation in our cabin.”

  “If you don’t want to be reprimanded publicly, I suggest that you be more careful what you do publicly,” Mac said ignoring Zeff’s presence.

  Merry thought his words sounded suspiciously like her father’s when she was a misbehaving teenager. Still she retorted, “You start the dance and I’ll follow.” Now, she sounded like her mother...

  “What is that suppose to mean?” Mac said scooting noisily from the galley table and glaring at her.

  Merry looked meaningfully at Zeff and then she said, “Come here and I’ll show you.” She dropped the cookbook she had been gripping, onto the table top with deliberation. It landed with a “thu-ump!” She turned and went toward their cabin in the stern of the boat. Zeff sat alone as Mac followed her out.

  There was an argument going on in the Captain’s cabin.

  Sometime later, when Zeff found Junior and the pup playing pull-rope with a short piece of line, he wondered about Mac’s words concerning God’s Kingdom. Mac was a man’s man and yet, he wasn’t timid about his faith. Zeff didn’t know any males like that in his circle of friends and family. Religion was for women, children and the desperate, he had decided long ago. And that was okay.

  Merry came up the companionway. The puppy broke free from Junior’s rough-housing and trotted over to Merry as if on cue. For a moment, Zeff wondered who had won the argument and now, how it would play out. The pup dance about her legs and bit at her pant cuff but Merry ignored Coco’s antics. Junior tried in vain to get the little creature’s attention again; the dog was finished with him for awhile.

  Tino was at the helm as the sloop made quick progress with the favorable wind. Mac came up from below and stopped to say something to Tino before crossing over to stand next to Zeff who sat on the steps leading up to the platform amidships. They both watched Merry, the puppy and Junior interact as Merry was trying to push the dog away and Junior coercing her with the piece of cord knotted at the end. Zeff chuckled and looked to Mac who was frowning.

  Mac called out to Merry, “Your dog has ripped your cuff!”

  “Coco isn’t my dog... I gave your dog away to Zeff!” she retorted hotly.

  Mac looked down at Zeff who responded with a shrug.

  “Coco... stop!” Merry said trying to get by the frenzied growling puppy. Junior looped his cord around her and was pulling her aside even as Mac started forward.

  Raising his voice Mac said, “Coco? Did you say Coco? Who is Coco?” His questions were tinged with inexplicable anger.

  Merry had skipped about and was heading for the stairs where Zeff was seated. She said, “Your dog... Zeff’s dog is Coco!”

  “I don’t like it...” Mac was saying and then again but Zeff interrupted the discord by unexpectedly snatching up the puppy and taking her to the port rail. He looked over at Mac and said, “Adios, Coco.” Without further ado, Zeff let go of the pup and she dropped from sight.

  Merry let out a yelp and she and Junior ran to the rail. Merry would have jumped in after her but Mac grabbed her. Junior wasn’t a fantastic swimmer but he considered going in too. Zeff said in Spanish to Merry, “Little dog will cause no more fighting.”

  Mac said, “I’ll get her Merry. You’re not going in. The water is frigid as you well know.”

  The pup swimming vigorously was rapidly going astern. Mac stripped down to just his jeans and jumped in from the stern. Scooping up the puppy that was wiggling to get away, Mac then caught the line Zeff threw to him. Zeff pulled them in and Mac climbed the Jacob’s ladder.

  At Merry’s command, Junior left but was returning with two beach towels. Junior took Coco in one and Merry wrapped Mac in the other. No one said anything to Zeff. He had figured they would not let the pup drown and he hoped to stay the flow of argumentative words too, although the bantering had been entertaining. Gathering up his clothes, Merry followed Mac down to their stateroom after giving Zeff a quizzical look. Junior was rubbing down the Boerboel in the sun on deck.

  Zeff said, “Dogs, they know how to swim.”

  “Yeah, well that was a mean trick,” Junior said. “I don’t think you should have this dog, Coco. Merry should give her to me.”

  Zeff squatted down next to them and Coco licked his hand. “I might give
her to you if Merry doesn’t take her back.” Junior hadn’t realized that Zeff was speaking perfect English. For Zeff’s part he had decided to break Junior in but now he realized the teen hadn’t made the connection... not yet.

  “Mac hates the dog. I don’t know why. He told me he has dogs back home. It doesn’t make sense,” he concluded.

  It was late in the afternoon, when Mac came above decks again. He asked Zeff where Merry was and Zeff replied in Spanish that he hadn’t seen her. Tino who was still at the helm pointed aloft. The three men look up and Merry’s legs were dangling from the crows nest.

  Mac rubbed his chin and said something in the D’Almatan language that the others could not translate. Mac relieved Tino. “Go get some rest. I’ll need you later,” he told him. Motioning to Zeff, Mac had him take the chair at the helm. “I’ll be back,” he said to Zeff.

  Mac began the 60 foot climb to the crows nest. Junior had fallen asleep with Coco on the cushioned bench in the salon and Zeff had come above decks then. He hadn’t seen Merry climb the mast although Zeff had been reading in the sun at least an hour.

  Although Malak had sworn off drinking after his conversion to Christianity, he realized the value of liquor as a bartering commodity during times of economic instability. At the moment, the world was experiencing various levels of adversity and the financial climate had become catastrophic with the recent American upheaval. Over the years as Mac studied various war strategies, he found certain goods shifted to the forefront of value, especially luxury items like alcohol or dark chocolate. So, when a man fleeing his adversary bartered several cases of rum for a lift to another Asian port, Mac accepted. Several ports later, Mac planned to use the alcohol to barter for Rock Lobster. It would be what he called a touch and go stop at Elands Bay.

  The lights of the seafood warehouse built at the tip of the land just south of the sleepy fishing village of Elands Bay were the only evidence that the dark coast was inhabited. Including the contraband liquor that Mac had picked up in Asia and the false identity papers he had had made for each of them in Singapore, this was their third nefarious rendezvous.

  He had made stops at this warehouse before. On D’Almata, South African Rock Lobster was eaten on special occasions like weddings, birthdays and holidays. For hundreds of years, D’Almatan sailors had been stopping along the west coast of southern Africa for Rock Lobster. Apparently, even before freezing compartments were invented for long-term cooling, the D’Almatans had been shipping Rock Lobster with the help of ice. In the old days if a ship was delayed by unforeseen circumstances such as foul weather, the lobster was sold at the nearest port before a typically small shipment could spoil. The sloop was equipped with a limited cooling compartment in the hold which was added by the previous owner.

  Mac had friends and knew acquaintances all over the world but especially in ports big and small that he frequented as Captain in the D’Almatan Royal Navy. And so, Mac knew the warehouse manager and he had called him from Cape Town.

  Dogs began a boisterous uproar when the boat approached the dock. The docks were sporadically lit and the warehouse had several roof lights on, as well. Mac had given instruction to the men and so, Tino was first to disembark, ignoring the huge dogs on the other side of the chain-link fence which was dark with no lighting out front.

  Hendrik du Toit came from the receiving shack. The interior light poured forth like warm liquid from the open door lighting up the docks in front of the small building. The dogs settled down at Hendrik’s friendly greeting to Mac.

  In his early sixties, Hendrik was part owner and manager of the warehouse. He and his wife had lived on the warehouse premises for forty years. They had a sprawling home in front of the factory that was hidden from view at the docks. The several dogs that wandered about at night were household pets during the daylight hours.

  Mac introduced Merry and the three of them went into the receiving shed leaving the others behind on the dock. Junior had taken the puppy, Coco over to the fence to be sniffed at by the other dogs who were also Boerboels. Tino and Zeff walked down the dock to the end where they stood looking north and smoking cigarettes. The village less than a mile away was all but invisible across the tiny inlet, although periodically a glimmer of light would peep forth from a house or car.

  After several minutes, Mac called to them to come and help out.

  Junior had climbed aboard with Coco and was giving Merry a hand up, when Zeff and Tino arrived in front of the boat once again.

  “Go get a case of the rum from the hold,” Mac was telling Junior. Turning to Zeff and Tino, he said, “Follow Hendrik and hand up to us the boxes to stow.”

  Zeff and Tino went with Hendrik into the warehouse. The Rock Lobster was in cold storage and they brought out two dozen cases. The young men began taking it to the boat and within twenty minutes it was stowed and they were ready to cast off once again.

  (Excerpt from Kate’s journal...)

  A year ago, I was on top of the world. Merry and I were working toward making a name for ourselves in the medical supply business - I finally got Merry off her “can” to do something constructive! Anyway, life was a piece of cake until Merry decides to take a hiatus from school, filling-in for Mom’s jail ministry in Santa Fe while leaving me high & dry in Flagstaff.

  I was angry and hurt... mostly angry with a drop or two of hurt. The drops being teardrops. People always let me down and when Merry chose a halfway house ministry - helping perfect strangers over helping me, I felt the old issues with Dad rising up...

  Why did Dad always pick strangers to invest his life in? A building full of churchgoers, any one of which might walk out of our lives after years of relationship because of a disagreement over a sermon or some petty misunderstanding.

  God really knows that when I was a kid and a teen, my heart was moved by Him to help people get free from the weight of sin but their rejection! Their rejection of God’s will, I took personally. People want help but they don’t want God... They want heaven but they don’t want to die... not even to themselves to serve the living God. And yet, Dad continued to give himself to the ministry. I got bitter I suppose because the very spiritual ailments that I diagnosed in the church world as hypocritical, lukewarm & even anti-God... I eventually embraced.

  Why am I rehashing this?! Stacy... Stacy Botha that’s why!

  He met me at the CT airport as planned. It wasn’t long before I realized he wanted to pick up where we had left off... As teens, we had a lot of great times together but our paths diverged when I decided to stay on course with God. It seems he was really shocked that I have remained pure... no sin, no sex nor rock ‘n roll for me (I guess two out of three isn’t too bad!).

  “I have religion! Why do I need God too? Doesn’t He come along with the package?” Stacy had told me the weekend before he started at CTU - over ten years ago. His voice rang in my ears for weeks afterward when he added, “Katee, Katee! I don’t need to recognize the sun in the sky each and every day but I need only to have it shine so I can go about my business... That’s my God; He’s there shining a way and by Him I live my life.”

  Those words! Stacy had made a lot of sense, although I rejected his sexual advances - actually that same night tens years previous. Those words and the implication that God was as important as sunlight while being just as impersonal, stung like venom. I see that now. Stacy left his mark on my soul by his words and by his casual relationship toward God.

  Has it taken almost one third of my life to realize that Stacy’s parting words tainted me? I suppose now that I understand that God is NOT impersonal but very interested in His children and in His plan for them... I may not - should not resist HIS plan for me. (More on that later!)

  On Tuesday after stopping in at a boat shop on Paarden Island, Stacy and I came out with a cell number left by Malak D’Almata. I didn’t know who he was but I knew that the surname D’Almata is predominantly from the Adriatic. I guessed this was someone Merry was traveling with. The real breakthro
ugh came when we were leaving the shop and a clerk told us that she overheard them discussing a stop in Elands Bay. Yes!

  We tried calling the number but they were out of range. I left voice messages hoping Malak would get them when they neared shore again and I sent this text-

  Hey! I’m looking for Merry. Tell her, “I’ll meet you in Elands Bay at the dock. Don’t leave without me! Love you - Miss you! Coco”

  Stacy, bless his soiled little soul said there would be only one reason they would be stopping at Elands Bay. I suggested, “Surfing?”

  “No. Rock Lobster!” he told me.

  Stacy reassured me they would not dock until after nightfall.

  Can I describe how elated I was? My emotions were a roller coaster and I was heading to the top again.

  We decided to pick up Stacy’s surfboard and rent one for me along with a wetsuit (thank you Stacy!). I must admit, Stacy knows how to have fun... We grabbed lunch and arrived in Elands Bay in time for a couple hours surfing before sunset. It was a great swell with a slight offshore wind but the water was pocked with ghostly seaweed. Also - Elands is a sleepy fishing village but there were a dozen other surfers in the water with us...! Still, we managed to have a blast.

  Truthfully, since the horrendous news of what happened in America - what continues to unfold over there, getting out on that surfboard in Elands Bay was like medicine... a momentary reprieve from reality.

  Exhausted and hungry when we got out of the water, we sat in his car to watch the sunset & finish the small bags of potato chips left from our lunch. Stacy had pointed out the seafood warehouse off to the left across the bay, when we arrived. We had the silhouetted buildings in our view as we looked west at the disappearing panorama of sunset colors. Then the oddest thing happened - we both fell asleep!