“Thank God you’re still alive, son. Grab this.”
“Sonny?”
Jim could not have been more surprised if he had seen an angel leaning over the gunwale. Sonny Cay lowered a stout nylon rope over the side. Jim grabbed it and held tight.
“Pull, Sonny…my arm’s broke, I…I c-can’t…”
Jim felt the rope tighten. Felt himself being pulled through the water. Felt his fingers slipping. He prayed for strength. He kicked, he fought, he clutched the rope with his one good hand and clung to Valerie with his legs. Sonny did the rest.
Jim paddled beside the boat, barely able to keep his head above the water as he watched his old friend pull Valerie safely aboard. Waiting for his turn seemed to take forever. Finally Sonny reappeared.
“Grab my hand,” Sonny shouted, reaching over the port rail. “Let’s go!”
Jim kicked with all his strength. His body floated up and out of the water, just far enough for Sonny to grab his wrist. Sonny’s fingers bit in. He grunted and pulled. Jim climbed up and over the gunwale, then dropped like a dead flounder onto the deck.
Sonny ran back to the console. The boat pitched and rolled out of control. Sonny didn’t waste any time. He pushed the throttles forward and flipped the boat around.
“Everybody hang on!”
The engines roared. The boat came to life. It accelerated, climbed a tall wave face, flattened out, and then raced down the other side quickly gathering speed. Jim held tight. They jumped the next wave. Then another. Then another.
Jim lay back unable to move, unable to do anything but cringe as Sonny battled the waves. He grabbed Val’s hand and prayed, relishing the power of the machine and loving every bounce and bone jarring bump as Sonny’s rescue boat proudly took the waves, racing them to safety like a phantom in the night.
A Week Later...
Chapter 57
Jim had ridden the M/V Mary Elizabeth so many times he knew her every move by heart. Every pulse, every jerk, every subtle vibration marked a scheduled maneuver, and as they reached the end of the landing channel and started into the sound her steel deck plates vibrated and she turned seven-degrees to port—as always, right on time.
Jim walked to the front of the ship. Valerie was already there leaning against the railing. With the wind in her hair and the warm glow of the sunset bathing her face she looked like a dream, but the contentment he had hoped to see on her face wasn’t there. He sensed distance. Detected a faraway look in her eyes. He propped his new cast on the forward rail and bumped her with his hip.
“Hi there.”
“This place is beautiful,” she said, never taking her eyes off the sky. “I can see why you like it out here so much.”
Jim nodded.
“It’s never looked better to me, Val.” He motioned toward Core Creek Island. Home. “It’s quiet, there’s room to think—” He turned around and pointed at the dirty shores of East Beach a mile distant. “Unlike that lousy place.” Valerie grabbed him by the shoulders and began working her fingertips into his muscles. He felt the tension begin to drain away. He closed his eyes and moaned like a fat cat. “Mmmm. Do I ever need this?”
“You may need more than a good backrub, Love. You’re as tight as piano wire. And look at you—” Valerie stopped massaging, turned him around, and held him at arm’s length. “You look like you just fought Mike Tyson.”
“Feel like it.”
Jim’s color was back and most of his stitches had been removed, but he still looked like a man in need of a long vacation. His face was bruised and scarred, his right hand swollen and blue. His right knee was wrapped in sterile dressings to conceal a new row of stitches, and his right arm was bound in a fresh plaster cast bearing the words, Do NOT Remove! All in all, Jim felt very lucky to be alive. “I guess it’s a good thing I fell in love with a doctor.” Valerie snickered and turned away. Jim saw her smile disappear. The look of uncertainty returned to her face. “Something’s bothering you,” he said. “What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“You sure?”
“Well, actually, I have been thinking about something.”
“Talk to me.”
“Well,” she said, hesitating and glancing at the water. “What was like? You know…”
Yeah, he knew. He had wondered how long it would be before she raised the subject, and he could tell by the way she avoided his eyes that she still wasn’t sure she really wanted to know. It was one of those topics that was difficult even to think about, painful to talk about, and downright dreadful to relive.
“I guess—” Jim paused to search for the right words. “—it was kind of like living out your most frightening nightmare. Like going to the darkest, most depressing corner of your mind and knowing you might never be able to come back out. I never want to go there again, Valerie. Ever. But you know, in a weird kind of way I think it actually did me some good.”
“Good?”
“I appreciate things more now. Just being able to walk, for example. My God, to be able to walk…what a gift. I’ve just taken so many things for granted, you know? My whole life. Everyday things. People especially.”
Valerie pulled away slightly and hung her head. She seemed to be mulling something over, something else they had yet to discuss.
“You’re going to think this is juvenile, but I have to tell you something.”
“Okay.”
“I’m scared.”
“Scared? Of what?”
“Of losing you.”
“Losing me?” Jim took her hands. “Val, we’ve already been over this. Lots of couples have long distance relationships. It’ll work. And it’ll just be for a while. You said it yourself—I’m a nationally registered paramedic. I’ve got experience. I won’t have any trouble finding a job in Pittsburgh.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
“Then what is it?”
Valerie hesitated. She sighed. She started to say something and looked away.
“What is it, Val? What’s bothering you?”
“She is.”
“She? Who?”
“Her! Her!” Valerie banged her hand against the rail. “You know who I’m talking about, Jim. Her!”
“You mean, Linda?”
“I don’t want to lose you to her, Jim.”
“Val, are you kidding me?”
“I’ve seen the way she looks at you, and the way she just keeps coming. I can’t compete with her, Jim. She’s beautiful! How can I go to Pittsburgh knowing Linda Newton’s down here chasing you? She’s not going to stop until she’s got you. I know her type. I don’t trust her.”
“Then trust me.”
Jim reached into his pocket, withdrew a small, black, felt-covered box and handed it to Valerie.
Valerie gasped and threw a hand over her mouth. “What is it?”
“Take it. Open it and see.”
Valerie took the box and slowly opened the lid. She gasped again. Her eyes grew wide.
“I hope this is all the proof you’ll ever need,” Jim said, “that I intend to love you for the rest of my life.”
Valerie removed the ring and slid it onto her finger. Jim took her hand and squeezed it.
“Say you’ll marry me.”
Valerie practically leapt off the deck. Her faced beamed. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him like she’d never hugged him before. Jim hugged her back, as tight as his weakened body would allow. A broad smile crossed his face—a contented, blissful grin that pulled the tender flesh of his right cheek taut. It hurt like crazy.
He couldn’t have cared less.
The deck plates rumbled beneath his feet. The ferry shook. The big ship rounded the outer channel marker and started its final approach to Core Creek Island. Jim watched the trees part and Pair-A-Docks marina came into view. It looked quiet, as always. Shoal Survivor floated in her slip. His house stood above the marina like a guard on stilts. The scene was a living postcard. Peaceful. Serene. Perfect. They cr
uised to within thirty yards of the landing and the twin diesels rumbled. The big screws reversed. The ferry began to slow.
Jim pulled Valerie away from the railing and watched the bow water churn into a black frothy soup. The ship slowed to a crawl, pushed into the huge rubber railing, and came to a stop.
Right on time.
“Come on,” Valerie said taking him by the hand and pulling him toward his truck. “Let’s go. We have a little surprise planned for you.”
Chapter 58
“Rico?” Jim closed the front door of his house, glanced around the living room and down the back hall, and then turned back to his friend. “What are you doing here, man?”
“Sshhh.” Rico leaned over the pool table, squinted, and studied the yellow ball on the other side of the dark green felt. “This shot’s for the world championship.”
“Oh.” Jim chuckled and leaned against the bar. “Don’t let me stop you.”
Valerie snickered and hopped onto a barstool beside Jim. He glanced at her and winked.
“Ten bucks says he misses.”
Valerie nodded and smiled.
“So shoot already,” Jim said. “What’s taking so long?”
Dressed in khakis, Polo shirt, and a pair of brown Timberland shoes, Rico looked more like a college boy than the head of a fearless, police gang-fighting unit, but Jim knew better. Rico was the best man he’d ever met, and he knew of no one anywhere who could be trusted more when the chips were down. Rico pulled back the cue stick and let it fly. The balls clicked. The nine-ball went wide. It bounced off the cushion and rolled to the center of the table. The cue ball continued to roll, across the table and into the opposite corner pocket.
“Aayh! I never could play this stupid game.” Rico dropped the cue stick, wrapped his arm around Valerie, and planted a huge kiss on her cheek. “How you doing, Doc?”
“Never mind me, cop, I’m not the one with the shotgun wound in my side. How are you doing?”
“What this?” Rico patted his right side. “Just a flesh wound.”
Valerie raised his arm and lifted his shirt. A palm-sized bruise sat just beneath his armpit, with a scattering of pellet-sized wounds mostly yellowed around the edges. A separate blade-sized incision below the bruise revealed the location of the emergency surgery Jim and Sharon had performed on the boatyard floor. Three black stitches held it tight. Valerie probed the wounds with her fingertips. Rico winced.
“Ouch.” Jim moaned. “Does it hurt as bad as it looks?”
“Jim—” Rico sighed, gently touching the incision. “Old buddy, it feels like someone ripped out my lung with a pair of pliers and shoved it back in with a stick.”
“You can thank me for that.”
“Well, believe it or not, bud, I appreciate it.” Rico shook Jim’s hand and pulled him close for a manly hug. “You saved my life, pal. I’ll never forget that.”
“That makes two of us.”
“So?” Rico said, deftly changing the subject. “What’d the neurologist say? Swimming laps again by July?”
“Not quite, but he did show us the original x-rays. That bullet came real close to severing my spine. Another quarter inch and I wouldn’t be standing here right now.”
“Whew.” Rico chuckled. “Close. Here’s some more good news for you—Murphy’s leaving you alone. Everyone downtown’s praising you for helping us catch the Posse, so he’s decided to drop the assault charges.”
“Well that is good news. But I’ve still got another problem, a certain antique runabout named Speedy.”
“Yeah, I heard you stole a boat.”
“I didn’t just steal it, Rico, I blew it up.”
“Well I wouldn’t worry about it. Southerland’s under investigation for drug trafficking. Turns out the Posse’s been using his boatyard to ship their drugs, and most recently, to produce them. Remember that old pirate ship?”
“How could I forget?”
“Meth-lab.”
“You’re kidding.”
Rico shook his head. “Down below. Full sized operation. In fact they had similar labs in six other boats in the same yard. Perfect set up. Who would have ever known? But apparently that Lakeland raid really spooked ‘em. They were going mobile, moving the operation to a small fleet of old houseboats when you came along. We found another half dozen or so around the Morehead area that were set up just like the one you and J-Rock sank.”
“How was J-Rock in on it?”
“The Posse’s primary connection to the gangs. Major buyer and seller.”
“I guess we ruined ‘em good then, huh Rico?”
“We did. Looks like they’re all going away for a long time. By the way, I have another interesting piece of gossip for you. Your old buddy, Tom Steele?”
“Yeah?”
“Get this, they found him gift wrapped around a tree out on the highway. The investigator thinks he was going about a hundred miles per hour at the moment of impact.”
“Impact? You mean—”
“Wrecked that new Harley. Not much left.”
“Of him or the bike?”
“Either.”
“Bummer.”
“Well—” Rico started toward the front door. “Shall we?”
Jim shrugged. “Shall we what?”
“Sonny and Sharon are probably there by now, doc.”
“Sonny and Sharon?” Jim glanced at Valerie. “What’s this is all about?”
“Be patient, baby boy. You’ll find out soon enough.”
Jim shrugged and took Valerie’s hand, and the three friends walked out the side door and meandered quietly down the street.
Jim walked to the edge of the grassy bluff at the end of the street and looked out over the sound. He sniffed the breeze. It smelled wonderful. The familiar mixed aromas of salt and low tide mud mingled to create an island smell that could not be duplicated anywhere else on earth. It was pure Core Creek, a smell that had always made him thirsty. He imagined himself holding a glass of his favorite drink, or a cold beer, or a bottle of Pusser’s rum, and for a moment his demons returned reminding him of his pain, and all the loss and suffering and death. But instead of disappearing into a dark cavern of anger and frustration and the intense craving for escape he had clung to for such a long time, he let it all go. He took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and then exhaled passionately as if ridding his body of lethal toxins. He felt strong. Refreshed. Ready to start over and begin a new course in life. A tear welled up in each eye.
“Ya’ll realize of course—” The tears rolled down his cheeks. “This was Sid’s favorite place.” He cleared his throat and wiped his eyes. “He used to sit here for hours watching the boats, reading, thinking. If he’d had a choice—” Jim paused and nodded, as if agreeing with someone else’s idea. “—I’m sure he would’ve asked to have been buried right here.”
“Well,” Rico said, “that’s kind of what we had in mind. Here come Sonny and Sharon now.”
Jim turned around and saw Sonny’s antique Ford pickup slow and pull to a stop. Sonny set the brake. He got out and handed Rico a package then walked over and embraced Jim with an old man’s strength, the kind that develops only with time, with wisdom, and with the understanding that life is precious and God still works in mysterious ways. He released Jim from the bear hug and held him at arm’s length. “Thank you.”
“Thank me?”
“For reminding me that life goes on, son. I’m alive again, thanks to you.”
Jim wiped fresh tears from his face. Sharon walked over next and gave him a hug. “How’re you doing, partner?”
Jim glanced at the stitches across her chin. The flesh looked pink and sore, surrounded with a deep purple stain. “I’m not sure, Sharon. I’d kind of like to know what’s going on here.”
“Well?” she said, glancing at Sonny. “Shall we?”
Sonny glanced at Rico. Rico looked at Valerie and raised his eyebrows. Valerie nodded. Rico pulled a small clay container from the bag.
; “Here,” he said, his voice unusually soft. “Why don’t you do the honors, bud?”
Jim felt a lump form in his throat.
“Is that what I think it is?”
Rico nodded. Jim looked at Valerie. Her eyes were wet with tears. He took the urn and held it for a moment without speaking. It was lighter than he would have expected. How, he wondered, can one person’s whole life fit into a container the size of a vase? But as he thought of all that Sid Drake had accomplished in his life, he realized that it wasn’t really him inside the urn, just a reminder of the extraordinary life and friends he’d left behind. Jim breathed a heavy sigh.
“So much has happened to all of us.”
Valerie nodded. Sharon sniffed and wiped her eyes. Rico grunted. Sonny offered a healthy, Amen.
“Everybody kept telling me that Sid’s death had a purpose. I still don’t understand why, but if he were still here…I mean, if Sid’s life had a purpose…if he was still here, I never would have learned what it means to trust God. I think God used Sid’s death to break me somehow.”
“Broken,” Rico said.
Jim nodded. “But stronger.”
There was a moment of silence. Jim glanced around the circle at each of his friends and smiled. “I love you guys.”
A tender moment passed. He removed the top of the clay urn and held it over his head.
“Goodbye, my friend. I’ll never forget you.”
With a wave of his arm a swirl of gray dust rose from the bottle and disappeared on the wind.
Epilogue
Jim felt a tidal wave of emotion when he saw the vacant lot at the corner of Club Boulevard and Core. Nothing remained but a large pile of wheat straw, a couple of folding chairs, and the memories of a fateful night when so many lives had forever changed. Val, Rico, Sharon, Jonas—none of their lives would ever be the same. Jim’s wouldn’t either. Of that he was certain. He sat quietly in the passenger seat of Rico’s car and stared at the empty lot. Rico sighed and tapped his finger on the dash.
“So they shut old Jonas down, huh?”
Jim nodded. “Said he was provoking more violence than religion. Can you believe that?”
Tested by Fire Page 32
