Courier of Love

by Della Kensington

  Clay’s eyes which had been squinting closed as she cut the suit away opened rather lazily and with a half-smile he said, “I don’t usually let a girl beat me up on a first date.” His words were produced with effort and his breathing betrayed the pain he was feeling.

  Examining his arm Christina worried, “Oh Clay…Clay….”

  He alternately opened and shut his eyes. His chest heaved as she touched the area near his temple.

  “Clay, your shoulder will need some stitches and you might have a concussion. We have to get you to a doctor. Do you understand me?” Her voice was unintentionally loud.

  “I’m fine Christina,” Clay stammered and as he attempted to struggle to his elbows she pushed against his chest. He lay back easily. “I’m going to put something on your arm and head and I want you to lie here. I can get us back.”

  Clay lay willingly back on the deck and Christina went forward to get the first aid kit and a cup of water. Lifting his head carefully onto a vinyl deck pad, she held the water to his thirsty lips, letting him have just enough to moisten his mouth. His temple was badly bruised, but unlike his shoulder, was not cut as deeply. The area was however beginning to swell. She could do little to satisfy what she felt was needed for the larger injury but she sterilized it and made certain he was able to compress the wound.

  Sensing her concern, Clay looked up into the tension of her face and reassured her; “You’ve done fine Christina”…his words were slow and husky, with an edge of near sleep to them. “I’ll be fine…really. Do you think that you can run this thing?”

  “I can. I’ve watched you,” her words portrayed a confidence that she didn’t entirely feel. He nodded and held the compress tightly against the outside curve of his shoulder. Christina stood up and looked briefly at his large figure sprawled across the deck. “Clay, I’m so sorry. It was so stupid of me.” Tears of remorse moistened her eyes. She turned and started the boat and having watched Clay numerous times before, moved forward to release the anchor buoy. Her unpracticed hands struggled with the line but once accomplished she moved quickly back to the helm to attempt to figure out the gears and throttle.

  At first the boat began to move erratically across the water, its speed slowing and accelerating. Gritting her teeth in embarrassment she turned towards Clay several times, but he was either not noticing or he was in too much pain to care that she was jerking them back and forth towards the shore. In a short while Christina’s efforts produced experience and as the boat’s motion smoothed and its speed accelerated Christina considered that she wasn’t experiencing the sense of fear that she might have expected of herself. She felt deeply worried but instead of fear she felt a sense of stupidity. How could she have done such a stupid, stupid thing? She had seen thousands of fish all week. Why had she been so startled by the harmless fish? She made a fist and hit the dashboard in self-admonishment.

  …

  Christina brought the boat into the marina and docked rather crudely, an action which caused her causally abandoned air tank to slide forward on the slick surface of deck. Luckily it missed hitting Clay who had moved out of its path by sitting up. His coloring was pale but he tiredly smiled and said, “We’ll study docking next week.” He was getting to his feet unsure of himself and in need of her support.

  Upon seeing Christina and Clay struggle off the boat, a man from a nearby boat jumped to the dock. Within seconds he was at their side assisting Christina as she steadied Clay’s weakened frame and moved toward her car. Clay kept insisting that he was all right but his pallor and clumsy steps betrayed his condition.

  …

  Tortola’s small hospital was efficient and well-equipped and the admitting nurse took charge of Clay’s objections with an aura of competency. The doctor appeared to know Clay personally. As Clay was being settled onto the emergency room table, Christina stood watching the process from the doorway. After looking at Clay and his injuries the physician motioned for the nurse to close the door of the room.

  As the clerestory windows above the door admitted a shaft of late morning sun across Christina’s troubled expression, a nurse, her hand on the edge of the door, said,” He’ll be fine now.”

  “Christina.” Clay’s voice halted the closing door and the nurse stopped and looked back over her shoulder as Clay’s voice sounded again. “Christina…”

  “Yes, Clay?” Christina queried as she took one step into the room.

  “I’m sorry about yesterday.”

  She wanted to run to him, to hold him, to comfort him but the nurse touched her shoulder and said authoritatively, “Dr. Jacquet really does need my help now, Miss.”

  “Yes…of course…I’m sorry,” Christina backed away into the hallway and the door swung forward blocking any further view of Clay.

  Another young nurse standing at a nearby desk looked up at her and empathetically offered, “You can use that room just down the hall on the left to clean up. He’ll be a while.”

  She was suddenly aware of herself standing in the admitting area and clad in the incongruity of a diving tunic and her body streaked by Clay’s blood. She must look like an accident victim herself, an injured alien in this landlocked environment suddenly conscious of people staring at her.

  “Oh yes, I guess I look terrible,” Christina’s hands suddenly raised and covered her face as her emotions caught up with her eyes and flooded them with tears.

  Chapter 14

  Having retrieved clothing from the car and repaired her appearance in a small bathroom off the waiting room, Christina returned to the admitting area and telephoned Arthur to ask him to come to the hospital. The young nurse at the desk assured Christina that in her absence Clay had been taken into an x-ray room and when returned his wounds would be attended to in surgery. In light of the humidity of the crowded waiting room, the nurse suggested that if Christina would like she could wait outside in a designated area where she would be far more comfortable. Christina protested at first but the nurse assured her that she would notify Christina herself as soon as she could talk to the physician.

  The scale of the island enabled Arthur to arrive at the hospital within a few minutes of Christina’s call. Upon seeing her sitting in the shade at the entrance, his gentle hands reached out to her and tried to determine that she herself was unharmed.

  “You should have seen me Arthur. I reacted to the fish like a hysterical child. I can’t believe this. Why didn’t I get hurt? Why did it have to be Clay?” She was distraught and her voice and sentence structure revealed a sense of remorse. “I wouldn’t blame him if he refused to ever dive with me again,” her hand gesturing in the direction of the hospital’s doorway.

  “Christina, stop it!” Arthur commanded. “It was an accident, and Clay will be fine. This is not the first time he’s been hurt underwater.”

  “But after yesterday…, you should have heard the things I said to him!” She half turned and looked towards the sky, her eyes avoiding Arthur’s and filling once more with moisture.

  “Oh God, I feel so bad.”

  Arthur didn’t know about the incident that had occurred on the beach but Christina knew he had a sense of the growing interest she had developed in Clay. She had talked about her lessons with Clay rather non–stop in Arthur’s presence and after the encounter Arthur had witnessed last night at the parade, he had asked if something had occurred between she and Clay. Her quick denial was now erased by her disclosure.

  “Arthur, I don’t understand any of this. I made a fool of myself with you when I first arrived and now look...” She gestured towards the emergency room entrance again.

  “You didn’t make a fool of yourself with me, Christina and Clay Corbett is a great big boy, if you haven’t noticed, quite capable of surviving a few bruises both on the inside and out. I think we could agree that getting unreasonably upset about yourself is not going to solve any of the problems that might have developed between you.” Arthur paused. “Christina, are you falling in love with Clay?”

&n
bsp; His question struck with a force felt deep within her being. “You don’t have to answer me, but sometimes admitting the truth to one’s self helps a person find a solution.” Arthur, despite his rather remote and unsensuous manner, was a sensitive man, capable of great feelings and warmth. She regretted, in that moment, they had not always been friends.

  “I don’t know what I feel Arthur…anyway it doesn’t matter now…I wrecked things and besides Clay’s already….”

  Her words were interrupted as the doctor came out of the emergency room entrance and approached them. “Ah, what a fine day out here. I should move my practice outside. Clay will be fine.” Directing his attention to Arthur he then asked, “Arthur…how’s that finger feeling?”

  Christina, for the first time, noticed a bandage across Arthur’s hand and an immediate scowl further clouded her already darkened expression.

  Wrinkling his nose Arthur shrugged, held his hand up and between them said, “Trunk lid fell on it three hours ago. We’re keeping John here busy this week.”

  Dr. Jacquet continued and looking at Christina said, “Clay has had a nasty bump and has suffered a slight concussion…, nothing serious, but it has confused him a little, I think. I’ll keep him here a day or two, which I think you know Arthur, will be no easy task. His arm looked worse than it actually was, but coral cuts sometimes surprise us and flare up. He said you were going on a dive together Tuesday?” The statement was actually a question to Christina who in her own state of confusion hesitated.

  “Yes…yes…I’m sorry…we were going to dive on Tuesday.” She felt shaken inside.

  Dr. Jacquet put his hands in his coat pockets and half-squinted. “I think Clay will have to hold off on participating in that dive, though I hate like the devil to be the one to tell him. We should probably give it a week…, maybe ten days. Salt water will be good for him but I want to be certain he’s rested and that there are no complications. It’s not a serious concussion, but a trauma just the same. I’ll keep a close eye on him.” Having recognized her concern, he patted Christina’s arm and turning, looked at Arthur. “…and you, Arthur, need to keep a close eye on this young lady. Trauma doesn’t always come in the form of cuts and bruises. Clay’s getting settled in. You will be able to see him in a few minutes, but let’s let him get some rest today.” Dr. Jacquet smiled at both of them and moved back into the cool shadows of the emergency room entrance.

  As they moved back into the hospital Christina’s body felt weak. Once in the lobby she turned to look at Arthur. “Arthur I don’t know what to say about the dive. I can’t go now without him, not after this. Oh…” she sighed deeply, “My father is going to be so disappointed.”

  Cryptically Arthur observed, “You know Christina you can spend a whole lifetime taking care of a parent and ignoring your own needs. I know. Believe me.”

  Seeking the reassurance of his arms, her tears flooding her eyes, Christina stepped towards and leaned against this man who had become a good friend. Arthur was holding Christina gently and patting her back in comfort when from behind him a door swung open and a wheel chair carrying the reluctant figure of Clay was pushed into the hallway. Christina looked up and smoothing her cheek with a knuckle, caught sight of Clay’s granite expression. Seeing her in Arthur’s arms had wielded his pride another blow; she could read the impact across the width of his expression.

  Arthur, unaware of the emotions being silently exchanged over his shoulder, turned and chided, “Clay, buddy, John tells us we’re going to have to hang up the tanks while you lie around and give these poor nurses a bad time.”

  The humor of the comment was lost in Clay’s icy gaze in Christina’s direction. He caught himself. “Arthur, I don’t think I’ll make this one with you. It will just hold everything up and Miss Weldon’s obviously already trying to fit a lot of things into her schedule.” His tone had an edge of ironic sarcasm.

  Arthur shook his head. “Oh, no, no, no. We need you and we’ll wait…we won’t discuss it, will we Christina?”

  Christina felt wooden. “I know it doesn’t change things, but I am sorry Clay…so very sorry…” she shrugged. “We, of course, won’t go without you.” She swallowed deeply, recognizing that she could neither do, nor say anything that would change Clay’s perception.

  “You’re the boss,” he replied with a sound of resignation. The nurse excused them and pushed Clay down the hall toward a room.

  Arthur called after him, “I’ll check on you later, Clay. Bring you some cognac.”

  “That will be good. I could use it.” came Clay’s gruff reply.

  “They won’t keep him long.” Arthur observed with a smile but Christina had already turned and was walking tiredly out the exit.

  …

  The tasks of the dive preparation were now delayed. A new pace was established to await Clay’s recovery and Christina found herself dragging her spirit through the days that had followed the accident. At one moment she found herself feeling angry and confused and in another, heartbroken and guilty. The excitement that she had once held for the archeological search was now being overshadowed by her remorse at the ending of a relationship; a relationship now further beyond her recovery than the potential of finding the ring itself.

  Arthur, having visited Clay the following morning, tried to bolster Christina’s mood with humorous reports of Clay’s behavior in the restricted confines of a hospital bed. He voiced too, his concern that Clay was considering checking himself out of the hospital sooner than the physician had scheduled.

  When Arthur told Christina about Clay’s intent to leave the hospital sooner than planned a rush of jealous feelings swept over her. Christina’s mind immediately imaged Penny at his side; Penny helping him into a car; Penny running her fingers across the bandaged sites of his wounds; Penny inserting herself into Clay’s care. Penny making certain that Clay was comfortable in bed. Penny. Penny. Penny and Clay. Clay and Penny.

  Chapter 15

  Having checked himself out of the hospital Clay didn’t come to the boat for several days and then, without telling anyone and when no one was present, he stopped by to put some rather large photographic equipment aboard.

  Christina, upon learning that Clay had taken equipment to the boat, regretted having been at lunch at the time but also felt relief of having missed seeing him again. She also felt better for not having had to experience the anxiety of seeing Penny driving Clay around in the completion of his chores. She could imagine Penny helping him, laughing with him, walking beside him as they groped through the darkness on The Endeavor and delivered the equipment.

  …

  Clay’s assistant, Joe, had been making frequent trips to The Endeavor, the large, well-equipped boat that had been chartered for the project. Christina found Joe to be an amusing and charming man with apparent adoration for his boss.

  Arthur, as Joe progressed with the details of the boat, finalized the updates of their preparations with the Office of Registry. Forms were completed; permissions were granted.

  Individually and collectively, the group reviewed multiple charts and pedantic details of the upcoming search with Brice Gamell, the boat’s captain. Christina was always present at these meetings, but Clay avoided them, sending word through Joe that he would join them as soon as he could.

  Ten days passed. Christina worked exhaustedly with Joe to both finish the steps necessary to complete her diving certificate and to keep abreast of the plans for the search but the reality of time began to creep back into Christina’s consciousness. Because of her commitments at the University she would be leaving the islands to return to Seattle in eight days whether or not their search was successful. Eight days, ….she could hardly comprehend the concept. Time, for her, had come to a halt nearly three weeks before, a void in space into which she had entered only to find herself a changed person who was now preparing to leave. What she had shared with Clay on the beach had been true. She felt emancipated, capable of going forth in the world and caring for hers
elf despite the pain that now controlled her. And, she had learned that she could love.

  As the delay continued Christina spent hours sitting on the sun-drenched bow of The Endeavor as it waited, as she waited. She passed the time considering her life and watching seagulls, terns and pelicans gliding across the undulating emerald water, its reflected light dancing over her sun-toned face. Drifting in thought Christina became aware of music as it wafted through the gentle breezes from the many boats and ships that passed by. From every corner of the harbor each day she had heard the sounds of music and voices and the laughter of lovers, acquaintances and friends, each on personal searches of their own.

  Christina made up fantasies about each new group that she saw and each day she increasingly found herself imagining all of them happier than she. Squinting against the sun on Friday morning, the day before their scheduled dive, the image of a woman on another boat reminded Christina of her mother and in the midst of yet another day of practicing self-pity, a memory of her mother glided through her thoughts like the birds she was watching.

  “Nothing is either good or bad, Christina, but thinking makes it so.” Her mother’s advice had been directed at her during some other childhood episode of self-pity, the cause of which she had now long forgotten. The memory caused her to laugh at herself and at the same time brought tears to her eyes for the loss of a woman she had never really been able to know.

  Saturday crushed forward and its morning greeted Christina in a rush of emotion that prevented her from any desire to eat. The fantasy was about to become true and the years of preparation, discussion and planning were to be resolved and, she breathed deeply at the thought, she would be seeing Clay for the first time since the hospital. They would be together on the boat for several long, difficult days, days of necessary interdependence and contact.