by Gale Deitch
May was the one whose brother was brutally murdered in the alley. She was the one who went into shock and was indicted for his murder. She was the one whose restaurant, her livelihood, had been destroyed by fire. All this time, she’d been feeding me, consoling me with food and conversation. I looked at her, really looked at her for once, and realized how she’d been suffering. She’d been going through her own hell, possibly depression, and I hadn’t even noticed.
I stepped over to May and put my arms around her slim frame. “Are you okay with this today?”
She hugged me back, and we held each other for a moment. I felt her body jerk as she emitted a sob in my ear. Katie came over and wrapped her arms around both of us, and we all began to weep, our bodies convulsing as one, our cries deep and guttural.
We released from our huddle and peered at each other. Their cheeks were streaked with running mascara, their eyes pink and swollen, and I assumed mine must have looked the same to them.
May glanced at Katie and then at me. “With all this black makeup under our eyes, we look like the N’awlins Saints’ offense ready to scare the heebie-jeebies out of the otha’ team.”
Katie spit out a giggle then gasped at her outburst, clapping her hand over her mouth. A chuckle escaped from my lips, and May joined me. We all began to bellow with laughter and soon were bent over with our guffaws, our bellies aching.
We hugged again, and May pulled tissues out of her bag and handed them to us. “I’ll get our life jackets so we can do this thing. I told Maurice we’d only need his boat for an hour or two. So we’ve got to get ourselves out there already.”
“What kind of boat? I thought we’d be taking one of those tourist boats and scatter the ashes from the deck.”
“Can’t do that. Against the law. Too many people to have any privacy. My friend Maurice, you know, the one who has the fish stand. He’s letting me use his. Just your standard speed boat. No worries, shuga. Micah and I used to go trollin’ for catfish and bass on Lake Ponchartrain all the time.”
“I don’t know, May. I’m not too comfortable out on the water. I can do a back float, but I don’t think I’d make it if the boat tipped over and I had to swim ashore.” I remembered, with horror, the time at summer camp when I’d fallen out of a canoe and had to be rescued. My camp counselor had a heck of a time getting me back to shore as I’d clawed at her to keep afloat like a crab trying to escape from a pot of boiling water.
“Don’t worry, hon. I’ll get you a life vest so you won’t have to worry.”
“Okay then. I’m here, so let’s do it.”
As May went to get the key from Maurice, Katie and I sat down on the edge of the dock, dangling our feet over the side. The afternoon sun beat down on us, but it felt good to be outside on this beautiful day, and I realized between work and all of the traumas going on lately, I hadn’t had a chance to enjoy the outdoors for quite some time. I turned my face toward the sky and inhaled, closing my eyes, taking in the smells of the river.
“Feels good being out here, doesn’t it?” Katie asked.
“I was just thinking the same thing. Too bad Gina and Gus couldn’t make it today.” I rummaged in my bag, pulled out a hair scrunchie that matched my turquoise V-neck t-shirt and looped it onto my wrist.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m happier without the two of them here.”
I turned to her, smoothing my hair back into a pony tail with my fingers and securing it with the band. “Why? Wouldn’t they have wanted to say goodbye to Micah, too?”
She shook her head. “Nah. Gina only came on to Micah because she knew he cared about me. And Gus--” She shuddered.
“What?” I asked.
“I’ve told you that Gus couldn’t stand Micah. Thought he was taking everything away from him—his future as manager of the restaurant and me.”
“But you and Gus weren’t in a relationship.”
“No. But Gus believed he was master of everything in that restaurant, including me. So when Micah came along and the two of us began hanging out, Gus played the Mr. Macho thing, you know, like ‘Keep your hands off my woman.’” Katie had deepened her voice to imitate Gus.
“So what’s Gus been like since Micah’s gone?”
She shook her head. “Still annoying as hell. Tries to corner me in the kitchen if we’re alone. Calls me at home all times of the day and night.”
“Sounds like stalking to me. Does May know about this?” I asked.
“No. Just Gina. She treats me like I’m her little sister, giving me advice even when I don’t ask for it.”
“And what did she tell you to do about Gus?”
A seagull shrieked, announcing his presence as he glided above us.
“She said to ignore him and eventually he’d stop bothering me.”
“Has it worked?”
“No.” She peered down at her lap and picked a piece of lint from her dress. “I think it’s only getting worse. And when Gina told Gus I was carrying Micah’s baby, he went ballistic. Pushed me around. Tried to convince me to get rid of it.” Her expression when she looked up at me was nothing short of a desperate appeal. She hugged her body as if chilled in this ninety-degree weather.
I put my arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “Later today,” I said, “we’ll report this to the police. They’ve got procedures for this kind of thing. You can get a restraining order if you have to.”
She shivered. “I don’t know, Trudie. That might get him even angrier, and who knows what he’ll do.”
“Don’t worry, hon. Remember,” I said, smiling at her. “I’ve got connections.”
She gave me a weak, unconvincing smile and nodded. “Okay.”
“All right, ladies. We’re all set,” May said as she handed us our life vests.
I slipped mine on, adjusting the buckles on the straps to make them longer in order for the vest to fit. When I looked up, I noticed May and Katie also adjusting their straps, but shortening them to fit their bodies. Oh well, I thought. At least the life vests are “one size fits all.”
We walked down the pier to where Maurice’s speed boat was docked. The bright orange vessel came to a long, sleek point at the front with a windshield and impressive dashboard and steering wheel. The white interior included front seats for a driver and passenger, and benches that lined the sides and back to provide additional seating.
“I don’t know, May,” I said. “It looks pretty flimsy for the three of us. Trudie Fine and boats, especially small boats, are not a good mix.”
“Shuga, you’ll be fine. I’ll get in first then I’ll give you a hand.” The boat was tethered to the dock with two ropes looped around wooden posts. May pulled one of the ropes to steady the boat and easily stepped in, causing the vessel to rock slightly.
Uh, oh, I thought. Not good. Not good.
May pulled on the rope with one hand to narrow the space between the boat and the dock. Then she held out her other hand to me. “Okay, Trudie. Just hold onto the post, take my hand, and step into the boat.”
I slid myself closer and took hold of the post. The soles of my sandals felt a little slippery on the dock, and I realized I should have worn sneakers. Half-heartedly, I reached my hand out to May and squeezed my eyes shut.
“Trudie, shuga. You need to watch what you’re doin’. Now open your eyes.”
I looked at May then down at the constantly widening and narrowing gap between the dock and the boat. I stepped back, shaking my head. “I can’t do it, May. I’m so sorry. I just can’t do it.”
I felt Katie’s gentle touch on my shoulder. “Yes, you can, Trudie. Think of it the way I always do. Ask yourself, ‘What’s the worst thing that can happen?’”
“Okay,” I said, peering back at her. “What’s the worst thing that can happen? Let’s see. I could miss the boat and fall into the water.”
Katie gave me a broad smile. “Yes, but you’ve got a life vest on, so you’re safe.”
I thought some more. “I could g
et into the boat and flip it over.”
“No, you couldn’t,” she said. “I’ve grown up with boats all my life when our family went to the lake house every summer. This is a sturdy vehicle with a heavy motor anchoring it down. Believe me, Trudie, you are not going to flip it over.”
“Well, what if I fell in the water and—“
“Oh for Pete’s sake, Trudie,” May shouted. “Just get in the boat. Our time is tickin’ away.”
Resolved now, I held onto the post, reached out to May and stepped across the gap into the boat. It rocked wildly for a moment as May steadied me. I plopped down on the back bench seat, glanced up at her and smiled. “Piece of cake.”
Before I knew it, Katie had gracefully leaped into the boat, removed the ropes from the posts then sat down in the passenger seat next to May. After a couple of false tries, May got the engine going and soon we were gliding smoothly through the channel to the hum of the motor.
This wasn’t so bad. In fact, it was kind of relaxing gliding so calmly through the waterway. I pulled my Food Network baseball cap out of my bag and put it on, threading my pony tail through the opening in the back then enjoyed the gentle spray of water on my face, a cool relief from the hot sun.
As May steered deftly through the waterway, we headed south to Haines Point then made a sharp right to head north on the Potomac River. Along the way, we passed several sail boats, motor boats, and some cabin cruisers. A couple of jet skiers zoomed by us, causing our boat to bump and rock. When a large tourist boat passed, many of the passengers waved to us from the top deck and we waved back. My heart thumped as the huge wake from the vessel rolled toward us, lifting our boat, it seemed, high atop the water and then gently letting us down.
As we motored on, we passed the Jefferson Memorial, the Washington Monument, Lincoln Memorial and Kennedy Center. A native of the Washington, D.C. area, I’d visited these landmarks several times over the years but had never seen them from the water and was awed by the views. Periodically, jets took off from or landed at Reagan National Airport, invading the tranquility of our journey.
At the Memorial Bridge, May cut the engine and let down the anchor. The water was calm and so quiet, all we could hear were the gentle waves splashing against the side of the boat.
May removed the urn with Micah’s ashes from her bag and held it high. “Micah,” she said with a catch in her voice, “this was your favorite journey and now your last journey. And so here, in view of memorials to Abraham Lincoln and George Washington, and in the presence of the places you loved most and the people who loved you most, I cast your ashes to the four winds.” With that, she licked her finger and held it up to check the direction of the wind, then lowered the urn toward the water and released her brother’s ashes.
I’d never seen cremation ashes and hadn’t known what to expect. The texture was grainy, almost like sand. Some of the finer ashes rose up, cloud-like, hovered and dispersed. Most floated on the surface of the river and dissolved as they moved away from the boat.
We sat silent, watching. Katie emitted a sob, and May put her arm around her and smiled. “He’s in the place he loved most, child; a place you can visit with your son wheneva’ you feel the need. Micah’s not entombed below the ground. He’s a part of this grandeur that’s all around us, and we can find only joy and comfort in that.”
It felt eerie that during this intimate ceremony, no boats had passed us by, and no planes had broken the quietude of the moment. But as soon as the ashes had been scattered, a huge roaring jet emerged, taking off from the airport, making a wide swing above us and soaring up into the sky as if it were Micah’s spirit.
After a few minutes, May raised the anchor, started the engine and headed back down the river. We passed the Tidal Basin where the Jefferson Memorial stood proud and majestic and, like a flock of baby blue ducks, tourists navigated through this peaceful inlet in their rented paddle boats. The Japanese cherry trees that lined the banks stretched their graceful limbs, posing like ballerinas as they patiently awaited their magnificent blossoming in the spring.
We’d been quiet as we motored through the water and rounded Haines Point again to head back toward the channel. I’d even become more comfortable in the boat, leaning both elbows back behind me on the bench and enjoying the views.
The sound of an engine growing louder in its approach caught my attention. I sat up to see what was making all the noise. Another motor boat, the driver bent forward, standing at the wheel, was speeding directly, and it seemed intentionally, toward us.
Chapter Twenty
The three of us sat stunned by the approaching vessel. The driver didn’t slow down or veer to the left or right. He only seemed to bear down harder in our direction. I was sure he would plow right into us. Before May could even react to try to move our boat out of the way, he came within a few yards of us. Katie screamed as he swerved sharply away, spewing us with water and causing a violent wake that almost bounced the three of us out of our boat.
As the spray of water cleared, I recognized him right away and gasped. “It’s Gus,” I yelled over the din.
He threw his head back and laughed. I felt momentary relief as he rode several hundred feet away, only to make a wide arc in the waterway, reversing his direction toward us again.
“Hold on,” May said. She revved the engine and turned our boat away from him. We began to move faster through the water, bumping on the wakes.
Behind us, I heard Gus’ boat becoming louder in its approach.
“Faster,” I yelled to May, knowing she couldn’t hear me above the din of the engine and that she didn’t need my direction anyway.
May accelerated even more, whipping our boat forward so that we were bucking along, rising up and slapping back down onto the surface of the water. Sprays of water pummeled my face like tiny darts. I inhaled gulps of wind that made it almost impossible to breathe.
Katie sat rigid, her knuckles white as she grasped her seat, her strawberry tresses whipping at her face. I worried that all the relentless bounces and bumps would affect her baby.
I turned to see how close he was. Still a figure in the distance, I could tell he was gaining on us. May turned to check as well and then sped up even more.
As we pounded our way through the water, I held on as best I could, sliding from side to side on the back bench and often lifting off the seat completely. I could tell Katie was having the same problem. She glanced back at me, her eyes wide, face pale.
We were approaching the channel where we’d started our journey, the waterway becoming narrower and more crowded with vessels. How could we keep up this speed under these conditions? And how could we get help before this maniac caught up with us?
Our motor began to cough and sputter and soon we were slowing down. May frantically pressed buttons and turned knobs trying to get the ignition going. We all looked back at the same time to see Gus approach our rear and then pull up alongside our boat closest to Katie’s seat. In his white sleeveless t-shirt, his sheer bulk was intimidating. Muscles rippled along his arms, both covered with full sleeves of tattoos. I’d never seen him without his chef’s coat.
Gus began to yell something to us. Both engines had quieted, but my ears were still ringing recovering from the noise, and I couldn’t hear him at first.
He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled again. “Katie, get into this boat.”
Her eyes widened and she shook her head. She got up and moved to the seat next to me, and I put a protective arm around her.
“Katie will do nothin’ of the sort,” May shouted, shaking her fist at him. “Now get the hell outta here before I get the Coast Guard on your ass.”
Gus laughed. “Oh, I am shaking in my boots, lady.” He revved up his engine, moving forward.
Was it that simple? Was he going to do exactly as May had demanded? I held my breath as I watched him slowly circle back to the other side of our boat and closer to Katie. Then he idled just a few feet from us.
“K
atie, get into this boat,” he growled.
She leaned in to me and peered up at May. I held her more tightly.
“Katie is goin’ to stay right where she is,” May said, glaring at Gus. “This is the last time I will tell you to get your ass away from us.”
“Listen, woman. I’m not your lackey anymore, doing all your work with nothing to show for it. First you bring in that lazy brother of yours to promote to manager after all I’d done for you, and he’s got his slimy hands all over my girlfriend, knocks her up.”
He gestured to me. “Then you get this big tub o’ lard to come in and take over.”
May put her hand on her hip. “Shut your filthy mouth, Gus. Trudie was just helpin’ me out when I couldn’t be there.”
“Yeah, and what about me?” He pulled off his hat and threw it down into his boat. “I’ve been doing your dirty work, lady, for too long. I was next in line to be manager ‘till you brought in that scum of a brother.”
“I brought Micah in to learn the business, to give him some kinda’ direction in life,” May said. “I hoped you’d help teach him the ropes.”
“Teach him the ropes? Taught him so good, he took my job and my girl. No loss to the world, that piece of shit.” He began to climb from his boat into ours. “Katie, I am tired of telling you. Now get in.” He stepped onto our boat and grabbed Katie’s arm, pulling her toward him.
I grabbed her other arm and pulled her back.
May swung her heavy tote bag at him again and again until he lifted his hands defensively and Katie escaped his grasp, climbing back into the passenger seat up front.
Instinctively, I reached out and shoved Gus back with all my strength, causing him to lose his balance and tumble backwards into his boat. He glared at me as he fell back with a thump and a loud crack of his head against the far edge of his boat.
