At the end of our work days now, Kenneth would pour the three of us a glass of cranberry wine, my glass being only a third or so full. It was really Holly's idea.
"People who work as hard as you two do have to
step back and permit their spirits and their bodies to join hands again," she said.
We usually sat on the small patio between the house and the studio and watched Shell, the turtle, navigate around the rocks and the fish in the small pond. The sun was still high enough in the sky to provide warm rays, but it wasn't unbearably hot and there usually was a late-afternoon breeze coming off the sea. The conversation was mostly between Holly and Kenneth, the two of them talking about people they had known and things Holly did in New York City. I never felt like a mere observer, however, because one or the other would often turn to me to explain something or someone. It was from these conversations that I gleaned an idea of what Kenneth had been like when he was only a few years older than I. There appeared to have been a bright period to his life, a period when he was as bohemian as Holly, carefree and far more sociable.
And then, from what they said, I understood that he had lost contact with all their mutual friends and had done little or nothing with anyone, even here in Provincetown. Holly constantly complained about his failure to visit her and her shop in New York. Kenneth merely smiled and promised he would some day.
"When the stars are correctly aligned for it," he added, shifting his eyes impishly to me.
"The stars have been aligned for it many times, Ken. You've got to be aligned," Holly replied and we all laughed.
Holly was right about our quiet time. Although I was tired, our half hour or so of relaxation always put me in a good mood and I was able to bring some of that joviality home to help cheer up Aunt Sara during this troubled time.
When I arrived at the house after work this particular Saturday however, I found Aunt Sara was more upset than usual. Cary was still out on the lobster boat and she was worried about visiting Uncle Jacob.
"He's called three times asking for Cary," she moaned. "I can't imagine what's keeping him. He knows how his father worries up there and he knows we can't let him worry," she said, her face full of a thousand anxieties.
"Uncle Jacob surely understands that things can keep Cary busy and working late. It's happened many times before, hasn't it, Aunt Sara?" I asked.
I knew that since Uncle Jacob had been given phone privileges, he called a number of times during the day, giving Aunt Sara orders, making demands, and questioning her to death. I assumed many of those questions had to do with me.
"It's hard for him," she said. "He feels like a prisoner chained to his bed by doctors and nurses, fed medicines, and prohibited from doing the simplest things. They had to give him bathroom privileges faster than they wanted because Jacob refused to sit on a bed pan," she added. "He's been hounding the doctor to let him go home."
I wanted to say it was very hard for Cary, too, and especially hard for her and May, but I put a zipper on my lips and helped her get dinner ready instead. However, when Cary wasn't home an hour later, even I became worried. Uncle Jacob called to speak to him, complaining that Cary had neglected to report the day's catch. Aunt Sara had to tell him Cary wasn't there.
"I don't know," I heard her say. "I'm getting very worried. Should I send Melody down to the dock?" she asked him. I saw her eyes shift from me as she listened to him speak. She nodded and promised to call him as soon as she had news. Then she cradled the phone and wrung her hands.
"What did Uncle Jacob say? Should I go to the dock?" I asked her. May sat staring at us, her eyes full of worry, too.
"He said you wouldn't know what to look for or what to ask anyone," she replied, shaking her head as she did so.
"I can see if the boat's there, can't I?"
"Yes," she said. I saw that it took great courage for her to disagree with anything Jacob uttered.
"Then I'll go," I declared and started out of the kitchen. May called to me and then signed her desire to go too.
I nodded and she leaped to her feet and took my hand. The two of us marched out of the house and over the dunes, both straining to see the activity at the dock. We had only to go a few thousand yards down the beach to discover there wasn't anyone there. The lobster boat was nowhere in sight either.
"Where is he?" I asked myself aloud. May tugged on my hand and signed the same question. I shook my head and continued toward the dock. When we got there, we stood looking out at the sea, searching in every direction for a sign of the boat. I saw an oil barge going south and larger cargo ship, but no sign of the lobster boat. I just hated returning to the house with no news, but I knew the longer we remained here, the more Aunt Sara would worry, and Uncle Jacob was sure to call again.
Maybe there was a reason to worry, I thought. This wasn't like Cary. Even though the weather was picture perfect, accidents do happen at sea. It would be just horrible if something bad had happened now, with Uncle Jacob still in the hospital, I thought. Since I had been practicing tuning into the cosmic energies with Holly, I paid more attention to my feelings and instincts, and I didn't like the heavy little ball of worry that was growing in my chest. There was nothing to do but go home and wait with Aunt Sara.
I started to turn away when May tugged hard on my hand and then pointed north. I looked, but saw nothing.
"What?"
She pointed more emphatically. Her eyes were more seaworthy than mine, for she had grown up here and she knew how to read the twilight glitter on the surface of the ocean. I strained to see as two almost indistinguishable dots grew into shapes that were slowly moving closer to the shore.
"What is it?"
We walked to the edge of the dock and waited as the shapes became two boats, one looking like a tugboat. Finally, I could make out the lobster boat clearly. It was being towed toward the dock.
"Oh, thank goodness," I declared. May smiled and started to sign an explanation. She recalled something like this happening before. The boat had broken down at sea and Uncle Jacob had to radio for help.
When Cary drew close enough to see us, he waved from the starboard bow. The sun had almost completely dipped behind the horizon as the lobster boat was delivered to the dock. Cary and Roy Patterson got it tied up and Cary hurried off to tell us the story.