Excess Baggage

by Pete Lister

  “Pop, how’s the world treating you?” Drew asked, resting his chin on his arms, crossed on the bow lifelines.

  “I can’t complain.” John drawled, watching the dolphins. “I’ll admit, I’ve had tougher duty.”

  “Me, too.” Drew told him. “Anbar province comes to mind.”

  “Does it, really?”

  “No, not very often. Actually, I hadn’t thought of it ‘till you mentioned ‘tougher duty’.”

  “How long did it take you to decompress after you got home?” John asked.

  Drew thought about his father’s question. “It was actually about two years before I felt safe leaving home without body armor. We were parked at Kopp’s one night, eating frozen custard, and a car behind us backfired. Ashley said she never saw me move, I was just gone and my door was open. She looked out my door and found me crawling out from under the car.” John could see that Drew was almost embarrassed to be telling him the story. “But, I hardly ever do that anymore,” he said with a smile.

  “God, I wish I could have protected you from that.”

  “You did what you were supposed to, Pop. Every life has its defining events. Yours was Vietnam, mine was the sandbox. You always told me, a man does what he has to. I had to go downrange”

  “And I still think that, but I have to tell you, I didn’t sleep well the whole time you were gone. I would lie awake nights, trying to come up with that million-dollar excuse for the Red Cross that would get you sent home. You know, when I was in ‘Nam, scuttlebutt had it that you could get out of combat if you were a ‘sole surviving son’. I’m telling you, if they had had that rule when you went over, I’d have jerked your ass out of there so fast…”

  “Pop, I was Recon. I’d have had to come home and beat your ass.” They were both laughing, now. “But I know what you mean. I was downrange while Ashley was a cop in the Air Force. If she’d gotten orders over there, I’da been scared shitless. How long did it take you to decompress?”

  “Years. Probably because I was a cop, and still carrying a gun into not-so-nice places. The first couple of years on the force, every time I had to go into someplace dangerous, I got that same taste in my mouth I used to get in ‘Nam.

  “Enough, already. Let’s talk about something more pleasant. I was talking to Captain Lee this morning. He’s got a friend who’s a wedding planner on St. Croix, says she can set us up with a beach wedding while we’re there. The girls are talking about a double-ring ceremony. I told them I thought that was a fine idea, and I thought you’d be up for it, too.”

  “Pop, if I end up married to Ashley, I don’t care if we have the ceremony in the men’s room at the airport.”

  “Wish I’d thought of that, but I think it’s too late. I already booked a cottage at a place called Pyramid Point for a couple of weeks. The brochure says it’s a beautiful place, right on the beach, and I thought that would make it a perfect spot for a wedding. This boat is booked for two weeks after they drop us in St. Croix, so I took this place for the two weeks, and then another week here on the boat. If a month and a half in paradise isn’t enough for us, then we’ll play it by ear.”

  “Works for me.” Drew turned around and gazed at his fiancée, who flashed a big smile back at him. “Pop, that is easily, hands down, the single most beautiful woman on this planet. I wonder if I could talk her out of that book for half an hour.” John laughed. He thought his son was almost right.

  § § §

  It was late morning when the sloop tied up in Christiansted. Kevin Lee, captain of Evie’s Song, was as good as his word. There was a pretty blonde with a great tan and a welcoming smile waiting for them on the sea wall when they tied up.

  “Good morning! Welcome to St. Croix. How has your vacation been so far?” she called to the boat.

  “Good morning! It’s been great, thank you!” Drew called back. He had been studying the island on the internet, and knew about the custom of greetings used regularly. Everyone was routinely wished ‘good morning’, good day’, or ‘good night’, in much the same way the Portuguese shook hands or kissed cheeks. Continuing a habit formed in his Marine Corps traveling days, Drew liked to try to fit in with the natives. Drew jumped ashore, reaching his arm back toward the boat as John handed the girls across.

  “I’m Kim Milliken, Seaside Weddings. Captain Lee asked me to meet the boat this morning.” she said, stepping toward them with her hand out.

  “Hi, thank you for that.” Ashley gripped her hand, taking over the social duties for the group. “I’m Ashley Bevan, and this is my fiancé, Drew Sherry. And this is my dear friend and future mother-in-law, Dianne Massey, and her fiancé, Drew’s father, John Sherry.” Handshakes and how-do-you-dos all around.

  “Well,” Kim smiled, “I understand we’re doing a twofer.”

  “We live together, and travel together,” John told her, “so we figured we might as well tie the knot together, too.”

  “And you’ll serve as each others’ best men and maids of honor?”

  “Or matron of honor. I’m a widow.” Dianne told her.

  “Maid, matron, honor is honor.” Kim told her, laughing. “You still get full credit and the wedding counts. Staying on the boat while you’re here?”

  “No,” John told her. “We’ve taken a cottage at Pyramid Point.”

  “Oh, that’s a beautiful place. If Sharon had told me about you taking the place, we could have gotten a head start on the arrangements.” Sharon Early was the rental agent for Pyramid Point. “It really is a perfect spot for a wedding…or weddings.”

  “Why don’t we discuss it over lunch?” John suggested. “Surely, there’s some place to eat in this town.”

  Kim drove them the several blocks to Savant, where they enjoyed a feast of a lunch in the courtyard. Just after they were seated, it started to sprinkle, and sails were unfurled over the tables. The rain only lasted a few minutes, and the sails were retracted to expose the few wisps of cloud left to be seen. The setting was absolutely idyllic, and left the Midwesterners almost speechless.

  As they were eating, the chef approached the table, making his rounds of the courtyard. “How’s everyone doing?” he asked. “Kim, the way you keep bringing me new customers, I’ll have to put you on commission.”

  “Chef, these are the Sherrys. They just got here for a double-ring wedding, and I thought we should start them off with the best the island has to offer.”

  The chef started laughing. “You win, Kim, your lunch is on the house. Welcome to St. Croix, Sherrys, and welcome to Savant. I hope you enjoy our island. Please come back before you leave.”

  “Count on it. I think you can expect us to be regulars while we’re here.” Drew told him, as he walked off with a wave.

  “He’s always so thoughtful that way. So,” Kim started, “what exactly did you have in mind when you decided to come down here for your wedding?”

  Dianne started laughing first. “Well, Kim, to tell you the truth, what I had in mind was dragging John out of that hot tub and having my way with him, when he pulled a ring out from behind a bottle of wine and suggested that, as long as we were going to be in the Caribbean anyway, we might as well get married.” Kim started laughing with her.

  “Rather nonchalant, wasn’t he?” she asked.

  “No more than his son,” Ashley chimed in. “The best he could come up with was ‘as long as the old folks are doing it, why don’t we?’” By this time the whole table was laughing.

  “I don’t know about anyone else,” Dianne told her. “But I can’t imagine a bad wedding in this place. Why don’t you lay out something tasteful, intimate, and memorable, and surprise us with it? Ashley?”

  “That sounds like exactly what I was thinking.” Ashley agreed.

  “I think I have just the thing. How about if I come by tomorrow with some pictures of cakes and arrangements for your approval? After lunch, though, we should go get the paperwork done. How long will you be here?”

  “Two weeks.” John told her.r />
  “That’s perfect,” Kim told them, “since we have an eight-day waiting period. You guys relax, Janess and I will put together the perfect wedding for you, one you’ll never forget. I promise.”

  “Well, I don’t know about you guys,” Drew said, “but if we ate three meals a day, right at this table, for the entire two weeks, I wouldn’t complain at all. This place is unbelievable.”

  “It’s great, no doubt, Drew,” Kim told him. “But, St. Croix does have other attractions, you know.”

  “I’m sure of that,” Drew told her. “I’m just sayin’…”

  “If everyone’s finished,” Kim asked, “why don’t we go and take care of some paperwork?”

  § § §

  The next eight days were filled with scuba lessons, touring the island in their rented Jeep, diving, exploring the fine restaurants and other attractions St. Croix had to offer, more diving, reading, still more diving, and then, a little sunbathing, usually followed by a dive.

  Drew and Ashley were diving one afternoon on the west wall of Salt River, the bay where Columbus made his only actual landing in the Americas. They were finning easily along the wall, 35 feet down in the green water, marveling at the sponges and coral, and watching the brilliantly colored tropical fish swimming fearlessly around them.

  They had only been down about ten minutes when Drew was surprised by Ashley’s arm smacking into his goggles. Turning his head, he saw her eyes opened wide as she looked over his shoulder. rotated, he spotted movement behind him and twisted his head quickly to see what had caught his eye.

  A shark, unlike any he’d seen, either in an aquarium or a movie, was slowly patrolling back and forth some twenty feet from them. He guessed it was about eight feet long, but the fins and tail looked to be enlarged, out of proportion with its body. The dorsal fin, which he thought should have looked like a curved triangle, was rounded, as were all the fins. The tips of the fins were white, with some black markings, and it appeared to be in no hurry to leave the divers. As the fish swam back and forth, perfectly maintaining his exact distance, they hung in the water, moving hands and feet slowly, turning to remain facing it at all times.

  Drew realized that they wouldn’t be able to remain down indefinitely, but feared turning their backs in an attempt to leave. They slowly began to drift up toward the surface, the fish pacing their depth while maintaining its 20-foot range. They both had dive knives strapped to their legs, but no spear guns, and Drew was pretty sure a knife wouldn’t do him much good in hand-to-tooth combat with a shark.

  Ashley was holding her position next to him with one hand, never taking her other hand from Drew’s shoulder. He could feel the pressure increase with her level of fear. Even under water he could hear the small mewling sounds she was making, and he worried that the shark could probably detect them, too.

  Finally, after what seemed like hours, the fish turned in for a closer pass. Probably, Drew thought, to take a closer look at the buffet table. The cold, black eyes of the shark showed no emotion as it slipped past them, no more than three feet away. It brushed his leg with one of its pectoral fins as it slipped by. There was no blood, but Drew could feel the abrasion. As it came close, Drew saw markings that looked almost like a saddle on its lower back.

  The shark turned for another close pass, and Drew reached down for his knife. He didn’t expect to have much success against a fish this size, but he damned sure wouldn’t let it get them without a fight. As it closed, still swimming languidly, without opening its mouth, Drew lashed out with pommel of his knife, catching the shark in the center of its snout.

  As the shark snap-turned away from them, he raked its gills and its side with the blade of his knife. It looked like there was blood in the water from the slice he had left in the shark’s side, but he couldn’t be sure. The last time he saw the shark, it was swimming slowly away, descending into the darker green, disappearing into the blackness of the deeper water.

  Their ascent, as they shot straight up, seemed to take forever. Drew and Ashley’s return to the boat strained their every nerve before they were able to climb out of the water.

  “My God!” Ashley gasped breathlessly, still trembling as she threw her arms around his neck. “Did you see the size of that monster? He had to be thirty feet long!”

  Even shaking as he was, Drew started laughing. “Thirty feet? Close, but I think maybe seven or eight feet would be closer.”

  “Are you serious? It was enormous! That was the largest shark I’ve ever seen!”

  “How many sharks have you seen?” Drew asked her.

  She was shaking, but laughing now. “Well, technically, that was my first, but I’m sure it was some kind of record!”

  “Honey, it was only a couple feet longer than I am.”

  “Not any more, since you cut him down to size. Drew, that was the bravest thing I ever saw. You saved our lives.”

  “Well, I don’t know about all that, but when he started coming in for that second close pass, I figured if I didn’t do something, we were on the menu. I remember reading that you should hit them on the snout. I only stabbed him in case punching him on the nose only pissed him off. Look at my hands, I’m still shaking. I think the adrenaline is dissipating. And by the way, how do you know it was a ‘he’?”

  “There was absolutely nothing feminine about that monster!” she laughed.

  They lay together on the deck, just holding each other. Ashley was reliving the life-threatening run-in with ‘Jaws’, while Drew was just enjoying the holding. Gradually, most of the trembling faded, if not the excitement, as they moved on to other honeymoon-type entertainment.

  § § §

  Small frost-white clouds dotted the blue Caribbean sky on the Sherrys’ wedding day. The sea was cooperating, its surface barely rippling from the light onshore breeze. Even Drew’s shark had come to celebrate, but no one spotted the rounded fin breaking the surface a hundred yards from the beach.

  Kim and her partner, Janess Chappelle, had been out early to make sure everything was ready, while photographer Kelly Greer hovered, getting the background shots she would include in their albums. John and Drew were carrying the wedding rings that matched the engagement rings of the sets they had purchased back in Indiana.

  Ashley and Dianne had picked up matching bands for Drew and John several days earlier when they had all flown to St. Thomas for the day. The women had picked out their dresses, and the men had selected white wedding Guayaberas and matching shorts. The traditional Cuban shirts were very popular with the getting-married-on-the-beach crowd. Dianne and Ashley had sneaked away while the guys were shopping, picking out wedding bands that they kept secreted in their purses.

  § § §

  A sweating Ralph di Stasio had just walked into Shiv’s office and dropped into a chair. It was hot out, so the front of his shirt and the back of his sport coat were wet. Not even the air conditioning could keep it cool in their old unmarked. Shiv looked at him silently, waiting for di Stasio to speak.

  “I just got a call from that bank the old man used to pay off his house. He just used a debit card from that account.”

  “Where?”

  “In the Virgin Islands.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah, I had a nice chat with the branch manager. He told me that Sherry hadn’t used the debit card for that checking account. He finally used it yesterday for the first time, at a formalwear shop in St. Thomas.”

  “Ya think he’s still there?”

  “I don’t know, but who buys a tux the day before he’s going to leave someplace?”

  “Jack!” Paustian poked his head in the door.

  “Yeah, Shiv?”

  “Grab Mead. You’re going to St. Thomas.”

  § § §

  Ashley’s and Drew’s room had become the dressing room for the grooms, while the brides were getting ready in John and Dianne’s room. Dressing was easy for the men. Shave, take a shower, pull on underwear, pull on shorts, slip on sandals, fo
rmal sandals for a wedding, after all, and button up your Guayabera.

  Dianne and Ashley, on the other hand, had gone into Christiansted early that morning to get their hair done. Of course, manicures and pedicures were mandatory on a day like this. The underwear was easy, except for the part about pushing breasts around to make them sit properly in the lace bras, purchased specifically for wearing with the dresses they had selected.

  Neither of them would be wearing stockings for a beach wedding, but, naturally, in keeping with the theme of the day, garters were de rigueur. They had also picked up sandals to match their grooms’.

  Ashley had opted for a more casual knee-length gown, but Dianne had picked out an elegant floor-length number that showed just enough cleavage to draw a gasp from John when he accidentally saw her trying it on. It would sweep across the grass or sand, and her sandals wouldn’t show until later, when she changed into her matching party dress.

  John and Drew were just finishing when Janess knocked on their door. “Are you guys ready?” she asked. “We’ve got a show to put on here.”

  “Is everything perfect?” John asked her. “I don’t want anything less than perfect for Dianne today.”

  “Oh, I think she’ll be pleased. Come see for yourself. We need you guys in position before we bring out the brides.”

  John and Dianne were going to be married first. John took his place to one side of the minister, and they chatted while waiting for the bride. A recording of Handel’s ‘Air’, from the Water Music Suite, filled the air, played over speakers hidden in artificial rocks and in the trees. At the end of a movement, the music segued perfectly into a beautiful rendition of Mendelssohn’s Wedding March. Kim, Janess, and Kelly stood behind them as witnesses.

  Drew and Dianne walked slowly down the conch shell- and palm frond-lined aisle, sandals slipping through the bougainvillea petals, followed by Ashley, the maid of honor. After handing Dianne to his father, Drew stepped next to John to serve as his best man, as Ashley slipped to Dianne’s side.