Don't Put the Boats Away

by Ames Sheldon

  When they finish, Harriet stands and whistles. Eleanor cries, “Encore!” George appears to be dashing tears from his eyes before he starts to applaud. Nat bows and then recognizes each member of the band individually. Then they perform “Let’s Not Put the Boats Away” all over again. He wishes Lucy were here with them.

  Harriet says, “Abby, why don’t you play something we can all sing together? How about ‘We Shall Overcome’?”

  Abby brings her guitar over and sits next to her aunt. Abby says, “You too, Joey. I’ll tell you the chords.”

  While they all sing “We Shall Overcome” together, Nat’s eyes start to water. He doesn’t want to think about what he has to face at home.

  After seeing Dorie in the locked ward at the Glendale Hospital on Monday afternoon, Nat drives back home. The concern he felt for her is starting to curdle. She boasted about how many stitches it took to stop the bleeding from her wrists, but he knows she would have needed to cut much deeper if she’d actually intended to die. This was clearly a call for attention. When she claimed she has nothing to live for, he reminded her their children need her. She said they have him. The only good news is that her physician has put her on antidepressants and is keeping Dorie in the hospital for at least a week.

  November 1968

  Although Harriet and Gus have been seeing each other for only three months, he’s the first man she’s been serious about since she and Ron divorced seven years ago. She can tell he’s intent on being with her. It might be a little early to bring their children together for Thanksgiving, but the kids all know each other to some extent. Retta was at Hartley with Gus’s girls, Nelly and Cathy, though they were in different grades, and Joey is at Warden in the same class with Gus’s son, Andy. Not only that, but Nelly was a student in Harriet’s chemistry class her senior year.

  Now Harriet looks around her dining room table with some nervousness and lots of hope. Her best linen tablecloth, crystal glasses, silver, and wedding china grace the table. She smiles at Retta, home from Mt. Holyoke for Thanksgiving break, and Joey, who will be graduating from Warden School next spring. The turkey sits on a platter in front of Gus, who carves it into slices. His children watch her. This is the first time in years she hasn’t celebrated Thanksgiving with her parents—who’ve taken the train to Minnesota to be with Nat and his children.

  She says, “I’m glad you all could join us for dinner today. We don’t say grace at our house, so why don’t you start passing the mashed potatoes, Nelly?”

  The platter of turkey, the gravy boat, a dish of peas, and a basket of rolls begin to circulate around the table too.

  Nelly helps herself to a dollop of potatoes and then passes the dish to her sister. “I have to say, this is a little weird, Mrs. Wright. I’m sorry, but you were my teacher and now you’re dating Dad? Mom only moved out to Chicago a few months ago.”

  “Six months ago,” Gus clarifies.

  “Nelly, please call me Harriet.”

  “I don’t think I can do that. You’re Mrs. Wright to me.” She shoves her spoon into her potatoes and pours gravy into the indentation.

  “How long have you and Dad been seeing each other?” asks Cathy. Her mouth looks as though she’s tasting something bitter.

  “Your father called me this summer and asked me out to dinner, and I’ve enjoyed getting to know him.” How can she show his girls she genuinely cares about their father? “He’s even gotten me into playing duplicate bridge. He’s quite a competitive guy, isn’t he?” Looking down the table, she winks at Gus. The light fixture above the table shines on the top of his bald spot.

  “Yep!” says Cathy.

  “How do you like Barnard?” Harriet asks her.

  “Well enough. There’s a lot to do in Manhattan.”

  Harriet raises her eyebrows at her daughter. Help!

  Retta turns to Nelly, who’s sitting on her right. “I hear you have a job in the city?”

  “I’m in the commercial training program at Bankers Trust.”

  “You must be good with numbers.”

  “Since I have an economics professor for a dad, something must have rubbed off on me.”

  “Yeah,” Retta replies. “Mom told me he’s teaching at Rutgers.”

  Harriet grins at Gus. He’s been very helpful to her as she comes to grips with the intricacies of charitable finance rules and regulations that pertain to her new job at the foundation.

  Joey and Andy sit across the table from each other. Joey says, “I’m totally bummed about Richard Nixon. Aren’t you, Andy? Gene McCarthy would have gotten us out of Vietnam.”

  Andy says softly, “I don’t know who I would have voted for.”

  “Don’t you care about the war?”

  Andy asks, “Where do you want to go to college next fall?”

  “I don’t know,” Joey says. “What about you?”

  “I’m going to Harvard.”

  “Huh.” Joey spears a piece of meat and puts it in his mouth.

  As she gazes at Joey, she notices that the curtains behind him look terrible. She hasn’t done much cleaning lately. It’s not pleasant to be at home since Joey was suspended in September for smoking pot at school. She’s been on high alert ever since. She’d grounded him for a month and explained how humiliating it was for her, a former teacher at the sister school, and for her father, a current trustee at the newly merged school, that he’d behaved so badly, but he never did apologize. He was very angry about not being allowed to rehearse with his band, and she worries about him all the time, wanting to know where he is and what he’s doing. Her mother is very concerned as well. Eleanor told Harriet that she knows from her AA meetings that marijuana can be the first step on the road to heroin and other hard drugs. Harriet would hate to admit it to anyone, but she can hardly wait until he’s safely off at college. His grades have been slipping, but she hopes he’ll be accepted somewhere.

  “Cathy,” Harriet tries again, “what are your favorite courses this year?”

  “Physics and anthropology,” Cathy replies. She returns her attention to her plate.

  “I bet you’re doing well in physics. You were one of my best chemistry students.”

  Cathy mumbles, “Thanks.”

  The conversation feels so awkward, Harriet can hardly stand it. She looks hopefully at Gus.

  “What about you, Retta?” he asks. “What are your favorite classes?”

  “I like anthro too. And music.”

  “Your mother tells me you play the flute very well.”

  Retta bobs her head. “I enjoy it.”

  “Which musicians do you follow?”

  “Joan Baez, and Peter, Paul and Mary.”

  He nods. “Would you sing something after dinner?”

  Good question, Gus, Harriet thinks.

  “Okay,” she says reluctantly.

  Harriet stands and starts clearing the dishes. Retta and Joey jump up to help. Once the apple pie has been served, they sit down again.

  Gus says, “I hear you’re a musician too, Joey.”

  “I play electric guitar—especially 12-string.”

  “That’s cool. Who are your musical heroes?”

  “The Doors. The Byrds. Jefferson Airplane. Jimi Hendrix. The Who.”

  “I heard Steppenwolf playing at the Fillmore East last weekend,” says Nelly.

  Joey says, “I’ll play something for you, Mr. McDonald, if you want.”

  “Great.”

  Joey sprints up the stairs. He comes running back down with his acoustic guitar, sits on a chair away from the table, and tunes for a moment before he plays something that sounds Spanish to her. At the end of the song, he drops his hands.

  “Very nice,” says Gus. “You’ve got a lot of musical talent, Joey.”

  He beams. “Thank you, sir.”

  Gus clears his throat. “Did any of you hear the speeches and prayers on Friday honoring Dr. Martin Luther King?”

  Joey replies, “Convicting James Earl Ray to ninety-nine years
isn’t enough.”

  Harriet agrees. She’s glad that she and her son share some values.

  Once they finish the meal, Joey says, “Andy, want to come up to my room to listen to some music?”

  “Ah.” Andy looks at his father. “Are we staying?”

  “Go ahead, Andy. We don’t need to leave until three.”

  Harriet senses that Andy is reluctant to go off with her son. Why is that? Her anxiety rises. Maybe they shouldn’t have forced these kids together quite so soon.

  “How about a game, everybody? Do you want to play charades, or we could get out a crossword puzzle?”

  “I’m going upstairs,” Joey says. “Andy?”

  Andy follows him out of the dining room.

  Retta, Nelly, and Cathy clear the table.

  Once Harriet and Gus move toward the living room, he pulls her close. With frequent physical gestures that aren’t seen by anyone else, jokes, and allusions to experiences they’ve shared, he lets her know he’s always aware of her when they’re together. She likes having this ongoing conversation with Gus that no one else is privy to.

  “I think that went well,” he says.

  “Really? This is harder than I thought it would be.”

  That evening, Harriet telephones her brother. “Happy Thanksgiving, Nat. How did it go introducing Lucy to Mother and Father?”

  “Very well. They seemed to like Lucy and Olivia. Lucy came over early to cook the turkey at my house, and Abby and Olivia baked brownies.”

  “Does Lucy enjoy entertaining a mob?”

  “She loved it—she’s from a big family, and she’s thrilled to become part of ours.”

  “When will your divorce be final?”

  “My lawyer thinks another couple of months. Lucy and I will marry as soon as we can. I hope you’ll come, Harriet. It’ll be a very small wedding.”

  “I’ll be there. How do your kids get along with Lucy and Olivia?”

  “I think they’re glad their life isn’t so chaotic anymore. What about your family and Gus’s?”

  “Gus’s children are not happy their father has taken up with another woman so soon, even though their mother took off with the man she calls her ‘soul mate.’ Retta and Joey seem fine with the situation, but they’ve had lots more time to adjust to their parents’ being divorced.”

  “I guess that’s understandable.”

  “How is Dorie doing?”

  “She’s better. The antidepressant she’s taking helps.”

  “That’s good. This morning, Nat, while I was getting everything ready, I suddenly remembered that Thanksgiving during the war when we had to slaughter all those turkeys we’d raised. What a disgusting job!”

  “I think that experience must have desensitized me to the sight of blood. We’ve both come a long way since then.”

  “Especially you, Nat. Who would have thought you’d become this big heart surgeon?”

  “Music was the only thing on my mind back then.”

  “Retta and Joey really love making music with you at Sea View.”

  “I do too. It’s more fun than anything.”

  Late one Friday afternoon in January, Harriet is finishing her review of the foundation’s financials when she receives a call from Janice Braun.

  “You’ve got to come get Joey, Harriet.”

  “What happened?”

  “On the bus back from their basketball game at Lawrenceville, Joey told the boys he’d just swallowed a tab of acid. Andy reported it to me.”

  “No,” she moans. She’s been afraid of something like this. She almost expected it.

  “We must expel your son, Harriet.”

  “His senior year?”

  “We really don’t want to expel him, given your history with the school and your father’s role on the board, but we must uphold the rules. We have no choice.”

  “I understand that, but what school will take him now?”

  “I regret that we have to do this.”

  “Oh God, he could get drafted—sent to Vietnam!” He could die in the war, just like Eddie. Her throat tightens.

  “Joey’s starting to act flaky. How soon can you get here?”

  “I’m on my way.”

  “He’ll be in my office.”

  Harriet grabs some papers off her desk, shoves them into her briefcase, and hurries out the door.

  When she gets there, Joey is sitting in a chair with his head craned back, staring at the ceiling.

  “I’m taking you home, Joey.”

  “Far out.” He doesn’t move.

  “Come on, let’s go.” She doesn’t know what her son is experiencing right now, so she’s not quite sure how to handle him. Taking his arm, she tugs gently on it.

  He stands and looks around the room as if he doesn’t know where he is.

  “I’m sorry, Janice. I can’t tell you how sorry. Joey, please apologize to Miss Braun for all the trouble you’ve caused.”

  “Sorry, sorry, so sorry.”

  She grasps Joey’s hand and pulls him out the door. Once they’re sitting in her car, she says, “Where in the world did you get LSD?”

  “Oh wow, the colors, they’re dancing!”

  She realizes now is not the time to have a conversation with him. She takes him home, and after offering him food and water, which he refuses, she tells him to stay in his room. Then she calls Ron to ask if he can come East and help her figure out what they’re going to do about Joey. He claims he can’t possibly free up his calendar for at least a week.

  Then she calls Nat. “Is Joey’s life in danger while he’s tripping?”

  “Just make sure he stays safe at home—don’t let him leave the house. He should come down after about twelve hours.”

  Then she calls her parents. Her father is not at all pleased by the news, but he says he’ll see what he can do to find Joey another school.

  Her mother says, “Would you like company, Harriet?”

  “No thank you, Mother.”

  “This is not your fault, Harriet. Joey’s probably just experimenting. I only hope he doesn’t end up taking after me!” Eleanor says.

  Oh good, something else to worry about.

  Gus calls. “Andy told me about Joey. Is he there with you?”

  “Yes, Janice had me pick him up from school.”

  “Do you want me to come over?”

  “Thanks for offering—that’s very kind of you.” She’d like his company but she’s too ashamed right now. “You need to stay with Andy.”

  She sits up all night, drinking coffee in the living room, fearful and worried as she listens to loud music pounding through the floor from Joey’s room. Is he going to climb out the window and jump? Run away? Why did he do this? Is his behavior somehow her fault? He’s from a broken home, and he probably needs more of a father than he has in Ron. According to Joey, Ron hardly notices him when he and Retta are there in California.

  Is this her fault for getting divorced? Maybe she should have figured out how to stay with Ron and make him get sober. But how could she have accomplished that? Tears start leaking down her cheeks. She feels so much guilt for allowing her family to break apart. No one in her family had ever gotten divorced until she did.

  She’d been taught to suffer in silence, but she broke that rule by telling Ron she’d leave their marriage if he didn’t quit drinking. Now, if Joey gets drafted and sent to Vietnam, she couldn’t bear it. Round and round her dark thoughts swirl, dizzying her with waves of terror. Finally, the music ceases. Her watch indicates it’s four in the morning. In the silence, she closes her eyes but keeps listening until the sun comes up.

  When Joey appears downstairs around ten, he looks very pale and tired.

  Trying for a neutral tone, she informs him, “You’ve been expelled from school, Joseph.”

  Shaking his head as if to clear it, he sits abruptly. “What did you say?”

  “You’ve been expelled from Warden. Do you realize what this means?”

  “Wha
t are you talking about?”

  “You could get drafted!” she cries.

  “I’ll leave the country before I go to Nam.”

  “It better not come to that.”

  “Do you think Dad will come chew me out?”

  “I called him last night. He can’t make it out here right now.”

  Ducking his head, Joey stares at the table.

  Two days later, her father comes by to drive Joey up to a boarding school in Vermont. He found the place and made all the arrangements. The school has a farm on which the students are expected to work every day. Her father thinks it’ll do Joey good to get his hands dirty. He tells her that on the drive north, he intends to give Joey a piece of his mind. Harriet cries when she says goodbye to Joey, but she’s enormously relieved too.

  February 20, 1969

  Dear Joey,

  I hear that you’re at the Green School now, learning something about farming while you finish your high school classes.

  You might be interested to know that I had an experience with my father (your grandfather) that is somewhat analogous to yours. After high school I was determined to go to music school rather than Yale. Father forced me to enroll at his alma mater, but I flunked out as quickly as possible, thinking then he’d allow me to go study music. Instead, he sent me to work at a mill in a small town in Minnesota. It was a shock for me, but in some ways it ended up being a good thing because it forced me to start relying on myself, making my own way as I chose.

  I hope you can find something to enjoy in your new circumstances, and I know that eventually you will discover how you want to chart your own course going forward. I believe in you.

  Love,

  Uncle Nat

  February 27, 1969

  Dear Uncle Nat,

  Once I finish my high school credits here, I want to go to the Berklee School of Music. They have real musicians teaching there, and they award bachelor of music degrees. They’ve even introduced new courses in rock and popular music.