by K. E. Warner
A squeaky yip caught her attention, and she looked up to see a small white dog with an untethered leash bumping behind it in the sand. Saori’s cheerful greeting continued as the pup rushed toward her. It brought a smile to her face, made bigger at the sight of Charles chasing the handle of the leash. He waved as he followed Saori toward Magda.
“Hello, Saori, Charles. How are you both this morning?” She squatted and rubbed the top of the pup’s head. “Saori, you look full of energy today. I’m so happy to see you bobbing around here.” The pup stood on its hind legs, placed a pair of sandy white paws on her knee, and gave her face a quick kiss. “How’s she doing Charles?”
“She seems to be well. Back to eating, and I think she was excited to get down to the beach this morning. Magda, thank you for your help the other night. I know I didn’t thank you very well, but we appreciated it. What are you doing out here this morning? I don’t think we’ve seen you on the beach in the morning.”
Magda rose and placed her hands on her hips as she looked around. “Well, for the past five minutes I’ve been watching out for those red lion jellyfish. But I’m just wasting time before I meet someone to go paddleboarding.”
“Oh, the lion’s mane jellyfish. Yes, I don’t blame you. Did you know they’re the largest known species of jellyfish? And they are native to these waters. According to the Oregon Coast Aquarium, one specimen was forty meters, including tentacles. That’s longer than a Blue Whale. Imagine getting stung by that.” He paused, appearing to consider what he’d said. “But I haven’t seen any yet this year. Maybe it’s early for them to be floating in to shore.”
Magda frowned at Charles’ anecdote.
“That’s terrifying. A jellyfish that size would cover a person. They wouldn’t escape.”
“Well, their tentacles would reach you first, so with any smarts, if you are out in the middle of the ocean swimming you would head the opposite direction of the jellyfish body if you got stung. The ones that end up on shore are dead or dying, they only have a one-year life cycle. It’s the smaller ones, maybe thirty to sixty centimeters, that get caught up in the tide. That’s why they end up on the beach. And if by some unfortunate event you get stung by one, use seawater to flush it, not vinegar. Vinegar will only make the sting worse. Just keep flushing it with seawater.”
Magda smiled. She enjoyed Charles most when he became talkative over some factoid he learned throughout his reclusive life. No wonder Donna remained enamoured with the man.
“Well, thank you, Charles. I appreciate that guidance. And hope I never have to use it.” She looked at her watch and realized now she was almost late. “I’m sorry, I have to get going. It was so good to see you, and to see Saori looking like a puppy again.” She gave the dog a quick pat, then ran to her car, giving Charles a wave as she reached the boardwalk.
At her car she picked up the picnic basket and her towel, then rummaged through her purse before finding the snowflake and attached keys.
“No need to carry this monstrosity around.” She tucked it into the glove box. Hefting the picnic basket under one arm, and her towel and purse under the other, she walked the path to the condo entrance and buzzed Ducharme’s apartment. After a long minute with no response she buzzed a second time, wondering how dependable Chris was. Had he forgotten?
Instead of Chris, Henri answered the buzzer.
“He’s not home, Magda. I just peeked into his room as I walked by, and it doesn’t look like he made it home last night. I’ll let you in and you come have a coffee with me. Maybe he’ll get here soon.”
She shook her head and shrugged. Disappointed, but not surprised. As she headed up the elevator, she considered it was lucky he wasn’t there. She didn’t know him well and being out alone on a quiet lake with a stranger wasn’t one of the smartest things she could do. Donna’s comment about strangers echoed in her ears. Perhaps she’d have a coffee with Henri, then excuse herself.
As she reached Ducharme’s door, she heard the phone ring and stilled herself before knocking. She gave Henri a few minutes to take the call, then knocked.
“I wondered if you were coming up or not. Thought maybe you got lost on the way. Either that or I forgot you said no to my invitation.” His self-deprecating humour didn’t strike Magda as funny, but she managed a quick grin before resuming a solemn face.
“Oh. No. I heard your phone ring and wanted to let you answer it before having to get to the door.”
“Oh, yes, that was Chris. He’s on his way. Says he was ‘unavoidably detained’ and to apologize. He asked if you’d wait. And I would love the company.”
She didn’t have any plans until dinner, and she wanted to hear Chris’ excuse, so she took a seat on Henri’s couch. It didn’t mean she was going paddleboarding though
“Thank you, Henri. I’d enjoy your company too.”
They chatted about travel and Henri’s experience in the navy. She wanted to ask him about Charles Brotter’s lookalike, but wasn’t sure how to approach the subject without imposing on Charles’ personal history. That story wasn’t her’s to share.
It wasn’t long before the door swept open, and Chris blew in. His left eye invisible under a puckered blanket of blue and black, his lip split and crusty with dried brown blood, and his right arm in a sling. He stepped into the living room and the air coming with him was stale as a bar the morning after New Year's Eve.
Magda waved the air in front of her. “You smell like you slept in cigarettes, sweat, and beer.” The air wasn’t clearing. “And urine. Jeez.”
“Sorry darlin’, no chance to shower. Didn’t want to let you down. But our paddleboarding is off for now.” He held up the appendage as if he was a small bird trying to figure out what to do with its wing.”
Henri gaped at his son, his face twisted into a knot, and asked, “What happened Christopher?”
Chris pursed, then puckered his lips before responding. “Really dad, I’d rather not talk about it. Got into a bit of a scrap at the bar. But you should see the other guy.” He laughed at his joke and looked back at Magda. “Can you wait while I have a shower? I’ll take you out on my boat instead. How’s that?”
Donna’s voice echoed once again, but she looked at Henri and dismissed it. She’d have her cell phone. And Henri would know she’d gone with Chris. He was interesting, and his evasiveness was a challenge to her intuition. She wanted to figure out how to classify him as a human being. Good, bad, or ugly.
“Okay. I need to be back by mid-afternoon though.”
His forehead wrinkled at her. “Hot date?”
“Can’t see how it’s your business.”
He smirked and headed for the bathroom.
◆◆◆
Magda drove Chris to the marina and followed him to his boat, insisting she could manage the picnic basket if he took her towel. He hopped aboard like a mountain goat, stepping without a misstep, and turned to offer his hand. She was glad her efforts at a picnic would not go to waste as he took the basket from her, set it on a table, and helped her into his boat.
“If I need another hand, I’m relying on you, right?” He held up the arm in a sling and winced with the movement.
“Well, with some instruction I might be okay, but don’t count on me to hoist any sails, or trim any jibs.”
His belly laugh rang true, a genuine expression of entertainment. “This isn’t a sailboat. We don’t have sails to hoist or jibs to trim.”
She examined her surroundings. From its pristine condition she concluded the boat was his pride and joy.
“What kind of boat is this?”
His smile was that of a proud parent. “It’s a twenty-foot 2019 Grady White 208 Adventure.”
“Not sure how good that is, but it’s certainly mint. It looks like it’s never been in the water.”
From where she stood, she could see up a short set of stairs to the bridge, two captain’s seats overlooking the bow, and steps leading below. Chris took the picnic basket down the steps and through
the doorway. Magda peered down the stairs from above as he removed a large square pillow from the centre of a lounge-bed area at the bow of the boat. He tugged on a round latch releasing the door below the pillow and tucked the basket into a compartment.
“Cool. A little compartment to hide things.”
She caught the twitch of his head before he responded.
“Well, it’s a small boat, but there’s a lot of storage space. You just have to find it. If they don’t build boats with storage compartments, there isn’t room to tuck everything away. And a messy ship is a sinking ship.”
Here eyebrow raised in a signal of skepticism. “Is that a Chris-ism?”
“Yes. But it’s true. A place for everything, and everything in its place.”
“Funny. I didn’t take you for the orderly type.”
She moved to one side and he stepped past her, continuing up to the captain’s chairs.
“Oh, I’ve picked up a few rules over the years. I just don’t share them all that often. Come up here.”
He reached a hand toward her. Feeling the slight rocking motion of the boat, she took his hand and climbed up behind one of the chairs.
“So, where are we headed?”
He looked up at the fishing poles secured in compartments on the side. “I’d love to go fishing, but this arm makes it a bit of a challenge today. How about we just cruise and I can teach you a few basic rules of the sea?”
“Fair enough. First, where are the lifejackets?”
His rumbling laugh was like a small brain massage, a firm grip releasing endorphins in her mind.
“Under the seats.” He lifted both seats in front of him. “Next question?”
“Is there a bathroom? I mean, if I’m sick.”
He laughed harder this time. “There is a portable head below, yes. But if you’re going to be sick, please don’t try to make it down there – just stick your head over the side until you’re feeling better. Anything else?”
“Yes. What happened to your eye?”
His face fell flat. “Out of bounds. Because it isn’t important.”
“Fine. Won’t ask again, but should you feel like sharing, I’ll be pleased to lend an ear.”
He started the motor and crept out of the marina, the wake a gentle ripple behind the boat. She sat at the back and looked down at the water beside them.
“Hey, look,” she yelled up at him while pointing to the tiny snout of a sea lion bobbing in the water beside them. “He’s adorable. It looks like he’s dancing for us.”
“He’s not dancing, he’s begging and hopes I have a few fish to throw him. Trust me, most fishermen find nothing adorable about sea lions. We feel about them the same way farmers feel about deer. Just as cute, and just as annoying. I have a story you’d enjoy, though.” His voice boomed over the roar of the engine and he turned toward her as they reached open water.
“Several years ago, I was fishing down around the Juan de Fuca. A pod of orcas was chasing a sea lion. It was so terrified it threw itself onto the deck of the boat and hopped around the seats watching the whales. I’d say it was laughing at them, but since it would have been dinner if caught, I doubt it. Jumped off when we got a few miles away. We were the lesser of two evils to the little guy.”
The story surprised Magda. Not so much that a sea lion would hop right into a boat to save its life, but that this rough-around-the-edges man had a soft spot.
Once they were well out in the Georgia Strait, he opened up the motor and she felt as though they were racing both waves and seagulls. Magda relaxed into the captain’s chair beside him and watched the ocean speed by.
As they rounded Lasqueti Island, he pointed at another island.
“Jedediah Island.”
She took it in for a moment before noticing small white dots moving up and down the steep hills. She felt him watching her squint at the island.
“Feral goats and sheep.” He cut the motor and lowered his voice. “Quite a difference of opinion about them. Some say they’re an invasive species, eating natural flora and fauna, extinguishing plant life on the island. Others believe they should allow the animals to thrive in the park. Still others think opening this up to hunting would be an outstanding idea.”
“That’s horrible. So strange to see them here. Is this a provincial park?”
“Yes, the island belonged to the Palmer family, since 1949. The Province of British Columbia bought it in 1994. It’s now Jedediah Island Marine Provincial Park. Not sure where the name came from, but it’s an interesting place. In 2007 a family found a human foot on one of the beaches. It was the first in a series of several feet discovered on British Columbia’s coast over the next two years.”
“That’s creepy.” Magda shuddered and stared toward the island considering all the information Chris shared. As they drew closer she picked out people kayaking near the cliffs, sunning themselves on the beach, and hiking up the side of the island.
“It looks so peaceful and innocent.”
He shrugged. “Want to drive?” He waved at the steering wheel in front of him.
She blushed and shook her head. She never went boating before arriving on the island, and the thought of having this boat under her control sent the chill of goosebumps down her arms. He smiled and took her wrist, pulling her over to the helm.
“No, seriously. I’ll capsize us. We should wear lifejackets.”
“We won’t go fast, just as fast as you’re comfortable with.”
She looked into his eyes and for the first time since meeting him, believed she could trust him. Her gut said he was okay, and her gut was rarely wrong. She turned to face the bow, and he leaned over her, pointing to where they were heading.
“We’ll head around the island and drop anchor in a little bay there so we can have lunch.”
She nodded, and he placed her hand on the throttle, lowering his meaty fist on top of it until it engulfed her hand. She looked down at their hands and shivered, conflicted between what she was feeling, and the understanding that he was simply teaching her to drive.
“Move the throttle forward. Steady. I won’t let you make a mistake.” He kept a firm grip on her hand.
She felt the bow tip upwards as the engines roared. “Have you ever flipped over backward?” Her stomach sunk and she glanced at him for reassurance.
“No. You’re trying to get the boat on an even plane so the first step is to get the bow up by trimming the engines. You can bring it back down once we hear the acceleration get louder. The more you do it the more it becomes second nature – the boat is an extension of the fisherman.”
She felt the warmth of his hand as he put pressure on hers and tried to relax.
“So now we’ll turn. We want to pull back the trim a little more so the engines aren’t ventilating as much. Pay attention to the feel of the boat. Now make a nice hard turn.”
She pulled her hand from under his and took the wheel, turning hard and feeling the boat angle to the right as it moved around the curve of the island. Magda looked over her shoulder, beaming at Chris. He kept control of the thrust and pointed with his winged arm where he wanted her to head. A small patch of sand on the island grew, and she continued to head toward it.
As they got closer, she saw his hand pull back on the throttle. The engine roar dulled and the boat slowed until it seemed to float in place with a lolling roll of waves.
“Care to help me drop anchor mate?” Chris popped a wall on the side of the bow and motioned for her to join him.
She leaped over to him, pulled the anchor from its storage, and followed him with the weight. She watched as he shirked off his sling, his face pinched, and tied the anchor to the side of the boat.
As he took the throttle once more, he turned to her. “Okay, now when I tell you, lower the anchor. Don’t throw it, just let it down.”
The boat began going in reverse, and he nodded at her. She let the anchor down and though he’d cut the engines, the boat kept moving till the anchor grabbe
d and Magda stumbled with the sudden stop.
Chris hopped toward her. “Good job. You’re strong, eh? And an excellent driver, since we didn’t capsize.”
She blushed as he teased. The more time she spent with him, the less horrible he seemed. “Can you pop down there and pull up the picnic basket for us? The arm is a little tender now.”
In the excitement, she’d forgotten his injury. She scrambled below and replicated finding the compartment under the pillows, then lugged the basket up the steps. As she placed food on the table, he pulled out beer from a well-stocked cooler, and they made themselves comfortable on the seats in the stern. She hadn’t realized she was so hungry and they both dug in with ferocity.
