Following Rain

by Darrel Nelson

  But she was still unwilling to show contrition and meekly accept how her parents—her father in particular—had so embarrassed her. She would not be submissive and ask for forgiveness. She had been humiliated beyond belief, and in her anger she lashed out at her closest available target—her brother. Shoving him angrily, she demanded that he slide over.

  Normally, he would have complied because being four years her junior, he was used to being bossed around. But at the moment, he was basking in the glow of his parents’ good graces and had their sanction to remain where he sat. And because her duplicity had weakened her position, she had no choice but to go around to the other side, leaving her brother on that side of the car. She did gain some satisfaction by slamming her door, adding an exclamation point to her displeasure.

  As her father climbed in behind the wheel, he glanced at her in the rearview mirror. She quickly looked away, refusing to make further eye contact. But she had seen enough in his eyes to know he was disappointed in her. And for a moment—for one single instant—a twinge of regret shot, arrow-like, through the bulwark of her defenses. She loved her father, although it had been a long time since she had told him so. Her mother, too, for that matter.

  When she was little and her parents told her they loved her, she would throw her arms around them and hug them ferociously. She loved to go places with them, her father especially. He often pushed her to the park in her little red wagon. She grinned whenever he’d say, “Hang on for the ride, Pumpkin.” Pumpkin was his pet name for her and just hearing it made her feel close to him. It was a special bond that the two of them shared. When she got a little older, he taught her how to ride a bicycle. He ran behind her and steadied her until she found her balance and was able to go on her own. He clapped his big hands, hardened from his years in construction, and cheered as she pedaled down the sidewalk. “You’re doing great, Pumpkin! Just great!” And when she turned and pedaled past him, she thought she could see something glistening on his cheeks. He held his hand toward her, his thumb and index finger pressed tightly together. I love you this much it said.

  As childhood gave way to the teenage years, her attitudes changed. She felt like her parents were still trying to hang on to her. They wanted to know where she was going and what she was doing and who her friends were. She had a curfew, and if she arrived home late, there were consequences. The older she got, the more restrictions her parents seemed to place on her. Finally it became unbearable, and she began avoiding her family as much as possible. An inquiry into how her day at school had been netted a one- or two-word response. She didn’t sit down with her family for breakfast, and she remained at the dinner table only long enough to pacify them.

  Some of her friends were experiencing the same challenges, but they were the minority. Most had only a single parent, who worked full-time and were not home to lay down rules and enforce them. Just her luck to have two meddling parents! And this time they had crossed the line by dragging her away from the party and humiliating her in front of her friends. Her social life was ruined, and that was something she would not tolerate. She was never going to forgive or forget.

  Nor was she going to forgive her brother. He may not have tattled on her, but as he sat smugly in the backseat, it was apparent he enjoyed watching her fall from grace. And when he glanced at her, she yelled at him to stop staring. She was not going to give him or her parents the satisfaction of hearing her beg for leniency.

  Her anger continued to seethe and finally reached the boiling point. And then . . .

  Rain flinched and opened her eyes, coming back to the present and looking around in momentary confusion. It took her a moment to recognize the cemetery and the two headstones she now knelt beside.

  Fighting the waves of suffocating darkness that threatened to engulf her once again, she struggled to her feet and clutched her chest, breathing in and out rapidly as Charlie walked toward her.

  “I read the names, Rain,” he said. “Or at least tried to. Can we go eat now?”

  Keeping her back toward him, she wiped her eyes and cheeks. Sniffing back the remnants of her tears, she turned and forced a smile. “So where would you like to eat?”

  Charlie whistled the jingle to the Macdonald’s TV commercial.

  “All right, we can go there, but you have to order a salad, too. Not just a hamburger and fries.”

  “Okay, but only a little one.” He thrust his jaw to one side and closed an eye, imitating Popeye. “That’s all I can stands and I can’t stands no more.”

  He teased a smile from Rain, and together they turned and walked away from the gravesite.

  As they proceeded, she said, “Guess what we’re going to do on Saturday.”

  Charlie looked at her quizzically.

  “We’re going sailing!”

  His eyes widened and he sucked in his breath. “In a real boat? On the water?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Pumping his fist, he said, “Can we walk a little faster?”

  She smiled. “That won’t make Saturday come any sooner.”

  “I know but let’s hurry anyway.” He kicked a pebble and watched it skitter into the grass. “This place makes me sad.”

  Rain’s smile faded and she glanced back at the two headstones that sat in the shadow of the old elm tree. “Okay, let’s walk faster.”

  She looped her arm through his, and they quickened their pace as they headed toward the front gate.

  CHAPTER 26

  Paul never tired of seeing the Pricilla B. It was certainly not the largest or the most expensive sailboat in the harbor. Still, it had served the family well over the years, and his mother had photo albums dedicated to many of their outings. The Blakelys had sailed the coastline in both directions and had made plans to take an extended voyage, but when Pricilla’s health took a turn for the worse, the plans were tabled. Now the sloop was taken out only occasionally.

  The Pricilla B was a Catalina 30 Mark II sailboat. The sleek fiberglass hull was white, with blue stripes, and the spacious deck and cabin areas were trimmed in high-gloss teak. A blue canopy stretched over the helm console, and vinyl padded benches lined both sides of the cockpit. The main sail cover was blue, and a short sprit extended from the bow like the needle of a compass, pointing ahead.

  As Paul led Rain and Charlie down the long wooden ramp that led to where the Pricilla B was moored, he glanced at Charlie and smiled inwardly.

  Charlie wore a hat and a T-shirt with an image of Popeye on it, and he gestured excitedly to the hundreds of boats that filled the marina. Straining to get a better look, he took Rain by the arm and tried to hurry her along.

  Stan appeared on the deck and waved to them.

  Paul returned the greeting and could tell at a glance his father had arrived earlier and prepared the sloop. The halyards were hooked up and the sail cover was unzipped and ready to go.

  “Welcome aboard,” Stan said cheerily. “I’ve got a little surprise for you.”

  Paul looked at him questioningly and then exhaled in delight when he saw his mother sitting on one of the padded benches. She had a blanket wrapped around her legs and wore a sun hat and a pair of large sunglasses.

  “Surprise,” she said, laughing lightly.

  “This is a surprise,” Paul said, climbing aboard and kissing her on the cheek. “The best. How are you feeling?”

  “Like it’s a great day for sailing.” She waved to Rain and Charlie.

  Paul extended his hand and helped Rain aboard. Her touch was warm, and he continued to hold her hand until he was certain she was steady on her feet. Then he turned to help Charlie, but Charlie had already climbed on board and stood staring up at the rigging, studying it carefully and talking to himself.

  Pricilla held out both hands toward Rain in invitation and welcome. “Paul tells us that things are going well with the fundraiser plans.”

  “They’re going really well,” Rain said, clasping Pricilla’s hands and glancing appreciatively at Paul. “Thanks to all of yo
u.” When Pricilla looked at Charlie and nodded, Rain added, “This is Charlie. He works at the homeless shelter with me.”

  “Hi, Charlie,” Pricilla said. “It’s nice you could join us today. We’re Paul’s parents.”

  Charlie perused the sailboat a moment longer. “This is some boat,” he said, stretching out the word some dramatically.”

  Stan chuckled. “Yes, it is. I’ll tell you all about it once we get underway.”

  “And he will, too,” Pricilla whispered, winking at Rain.

  “Let’s put on the life jackets and then we’re ready to go,” Stan said, scowling good-naturedly at Pricilla. He grabbed several life jackets from a storage compartment and helped Pricilla and Charlie into them.

  Paul assisted Rain into hers before putting on his own. He got Rain and Charlie situated on the padded bench opposite to where Pricilla sat. Then he undid the mooring lines and coiled them in neat loops, hanging them on the clips so they didn’t get wrapped around each other. When he finished, he sat beside his mother and nodded at his father. “Ready, Captain,” he said.

  “Ready ho!” Stan replied. He pulled a small lever on the console, and the Pricilla B began to move soundlessly away from the dock.

  “It’s so quiet,” Rain commented.

  “I had her converted to electric propulsion a couple of years back,” Stan said. “Better for the environment.”

  Charlie shifted excitedly in his seat and watched the dock recede.

  The sky was clear, with occasional streaks of clouds on the horizon, and a light wind plied across the bay. Sailboats dotted the horizon like a parade of children wearing paper hats, and the occasional Seadoo Jet Ski zoomed by, creating a gentle wake. The cries of gulls mingled with the sounds of the outboard motors, and a hint of sea salt tinged the air refreshingly.

  Once clear of the harbor, Stan and Paul unfurled the jib and allowed it to billow in the breeze. They followed suit with the mainsail, and the Pricilla B responded enthusiastically, cutting for the open waters of Puget Sound. Stan stood at the large steering wheel, positioned near the bow, and gave a toothy grin as the wind ruffled his hair.

  Paul looked at him for a moment and smiled, too. His father was in his glory, and the day was all the more special because Pricilla was able to accompany them. Paul’s smile widened when Charlie raised his arms and cupped his hands as though trying to catch the wind. He noticed Rain slip a hand through the belt on Charlie’s lifejacket and keep herself positioned directly beside him.

  As the Pricilla B sliced through the water, a sudden gust of wind almost blew off Charlie’s hat. He reached up and grabbed it with both hands.

  “It’s amazing the sailboat doesn’t tip over in the wind,” Rain said, as the boat listed slightly.

  “The large fin on the bottom makes sure we don’t,” Charlie said matter-of-factly.

  Rain looked at him in surprise.

  “Sounds like we have an experienced sailor onboard,” Paul said. “What do you know about keels, Charlie?”

  Charlie shrugged. “It keeps us from tipping over.”

  “Correct,” Stan said, turning the wheel so the main sail stayed on the port side of the sloop. “The keel changes the sideways motion of the wind into forward motion. Without it we would tip over. There, that’s your first sailing lesson of the day.”

  Pricilla caught Rain’s attention and rolled her eyes playfully. “Humor him. He’ll be giving sailing lessons all day. But while he’s doing that, keep a lookout for orcas.”

  Charlie sat up in his seat. “Orcas? Where?”

  “Just up ahead,” Pricilla replied. “Each spring they migrate from Alaska and pass through Puget Sound. And each fall they return. We might get lucky and see some today.”

  “There, that’s your first nature lesson of the day,” Paul said, receiving a gentle swat from his mother.

  As the sloop ploughed ahead, Stan adjusted his grip on the wheel. “I’m glad we could do this. It’s a beautiful day for sailing."

  “Yes, it is,” Paul agreed, glancing at Rain.

  “Thanks so much for the invitation,” Rain said. “And for everything you’re doing and have done for the fundraiser. I don’t know how to ever thank you.”

  Pricilla smiled warmly. “Just continue the great work you’re doing there.”

  “I will,” Rain answered. “Charlie and I both will.” She tapped Charlie on the shoulder. “Won’t we?”

  Charlie nodded. “I’ll work hard to keep the dishes clean and sparkling. Especially now that we have the new sprayer.” He looked across at Pricilla. “Rain says we might even be able to get a new sink. With two holes!”

  “How about one with three holes?” Stan said, grinning at the wide-eyed expression that appeared on Charlie’s face.

  “Three holes! Did you hear that, Rain?” His forehead suddenly wrinkled and he looked at Stan. “Do they make a sink with that many holes?”

  “They sure do, Charlie,” said Paul. “And we’ll make sure you get the best one.”

  Charlie chortled in obvious contentment and settled back in his seat. He closed his eyes and tilted his face skyward, drawing in a deep breath and slowly exhaling.

  Sunlight danced across the water and painted the hull of the Pricilla B in a wash of tiny rainbows. The sails stretched in pleasure at being released from their confinement, and everyone fell silent as the sloop continued onward.

  Paul glanced at Rain. She, too, had her eyes closed and seemed to be enjoying the feel of the sunlight on her face. A few loose strands of hair stirred gently in the breeze, and a smile graced the corners of her mouth. His gaze wandered to the rigging and then returned to Rain again. He could feel his mother’s eyes watching him and he quickly looked away.

  Stan broke the reverie a few minutes later. “Say, Charlie. Since you know so much about keels, how would you like to be the captain for a while?”

  Charlie’s eyes popped open. “Do I get to steer?”

  “You’re the captain.”

  Charlie was beside Stan in an instant.

  “It’s fairly straightforward,” Stan explained. “Turn the wheel in the direction you want to go. But for now just hold it steady. See that lighthouse in the distance? Keep us pointed directly at it.”

  Charlie took hold of the steering wheel with an air of reverence, mingled with anticipation. A gleeful sound rattled in his throat, and he narrowed his gaze and focused on the lighthouse.

  “The wind will try to blow us off course,” Stan said, “so we’ll make adjustments as need be.”

  Charlie nodded and continued to stare ahead unblinkingly, his expression the study of concentration.

  Stan watched him for a moment and then, satisfied, addressed Rain. “Pricilla and I are glad you could come today. We wanted to tell you about some recent developments we’ve come up with for the fundraiser.”

  Rain looked at him expectantly.

  “Paul told you about the car and laptops we want to raffle off,” Stan continued. “You’re okay with that, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, of course. It’s incredibly generous of you.”

  Pricilla adjusted her sunglasses and said, “Wait. He’s just getting warmed up.”

  “Really?”

  Really, Paul wanted to say and then blurt out the good news himself. He’d been sitting on it for several days and was anxious to tell her all about it. But he deferred to his parents, who had done the bulk of the behind-the-scenes work.

  “Pricilla and I have been in contact with some friends,” Stan began. “I know you’ve had a hard time getting sponsors to commit this year, so we’ve taken the liberty of contacting a few business acquaintances. We hope you won’t think we’re overstepping our bounds.”

  “Not a bit.”

  “We’ve compiled a list of ten professionals who are willing to donate their services to the fundraiser,” Pricilla added, pulling a list from her pocket. “Three medical doctors, four dentists, two lawyers, and one chartered accountant.”

  Rain gasp
ed at the good news.

  “Also, several businesses are willing to donate their products and services,” Stan said.

  Pricilla referred to her list again. “Northhill Fitness Center is donating a year’s membership for two. Goodway Foods is giving a gift coupon for one thousand dollars. Ann’s Beauty Salon is giving a gift coupon for one hundred dollars. The Seattle Steakhouse is donating an exclusive dinner for four. Jordan’s Carpet Center is . . .”

  The longer Pricilla talked, the more elated Rain’s expression became. When Pricilla finally finished, Rain stared at her in astonishment. “I—I don’t know what to say!”

  Paul crossed the deck and stood in front of her. “You deserve it, Rain. You’ve worked so hard to make the fundraiser a success.”

  “But this is all so unbelievable. I—” She choked up and placed a hand to her chest.

  Charlie glanced at Rain in concern. In so doing, he jerked on the steering wheel. The sloop listed and pitched Rain forward. Paul caught her, but he was off-balance, too, and they fell to the deck, where Rain lay with tears streaming down her face, half-laughing, half-crying in gratitude.

  Paul held her firmly so she didn’t roll sideways and bang into the console. Her joy was infectious, and he found himself laughing, too. Her breath came in short bursts, and he felt it tickle the side of his face. In that moment, he wanted to linger in the warmth of her embrace.

  Charlie corrected their course and looked at the others, his eyebrows knit together apologetically. “Sorry. Is everybody okay?”

  “We’re fine, Charlie, Paul said, still holding Rain while they continued to laugh. “You okay, Mom?”

  “I’m fine,” Pricilla replied, clutching the edge of the bench. “I’m on the lower side so no harm done. You’re the ones who went for the ride.”

  Paul helped Rain back into her seat and wrapped an arm securely around her.

  Stan slapped Charlie gently on the back and whispered, “My son will thank you later.” When Charlie just looked at him blankly, Stan laughed and said, “Full speed ahead, Captain. You’re doing great.”