by J. L. Berg
I kept on driving, past Kill Devil Hills and all its many golf courses and tourist attractions. The Wright Brothers Memorial came and went, reminding me of a junior high field trip when I’d spent the entire bus ride talking Molly’s ear off about the first flight.
Even then, I’d had it bad for her.
The farther I drove, the quieter it became. Small beach towns passed by as I slowly made my way to Hatteras. This was where the Outer Banks really shone.
Wooden houses dotted the shore, high on stilts to keep them protected from storms. I could see the wear and tear from their age, but that was part of the charm. People rode their bikes to cozy little mom-and-pop restaurants, feasting on local seafood and crabs.
It was a simple way of life. One that was easily loved…or despised.
In my case, it had been a healthy mix of both until the end. Until my world had been flipped upside down.
By the time I ventured down to the farthest tip of the Banks, my legs were sore, and my stomach was empty. Pulling off just before the ferry that would take me on the last leg of the trip, I stopped at a small restaurant to refuel.
Stepping out of the car, I stretched, feeling stiff and tired from being in one position for so long.
I was used to being active. Sitting around never suited me. Even as a kid, I’d run around the island for hours, chasing crabs along the shore with my friends. These days, however, exercise was more of an indoor sport, as I’d opted for a high-priced gym membership over crab-chasing.
But I still loved to run.
Taking the short walk from the car, I entered the restaurant, looking for a bite to eat before boarding the ferry.
What I got was the exact opposite of quiet.
“Holy shit!” a familiar voice called from across the restaurant. “Is that the Jake Jameson?”
I looked over and immediately recognized him.
Dean Sutherland.
My childhood best friend. Growing up, it had always been Dean, Molly, and me—the three amigos.
“As I live and breathe.” I grinned, surprised by the sudden emotions hitting me.
I’d been dreading coming back here, facing the music for my sudden departure all those years ago.
But seeing Dean? Here and now? It was nothing short of a blessing.
We met somewhere in the middle, hugging like men always did—a hefty pat on the back while we both grinned like fucking idiots.
“I wondered if we might be seeing you,” he said before his face turned somber. “I’m sorry about your dad.”
I nodded. “Me, too.”
He motioned me over to the far corner where he’d already devoured half of a sandwich and a couple of bags of chips. We each took a seat as Dean struggled to find the words, deep creases lining his forehead as his eyes stared into mine.
“He fought it, you know? Every step of the way, he tried to stay healthy enough for everyone. But, eventually, it caught up to him.”
“The liver can only take so much,” I said, shaking my head, as I tried not to imagine the memories of my father huddled over a bottle of gin late at night.
“But enough about that. How the hell are you, buddy?”
That shit-eating grin of his, which had coaxed me into a world of trouble, spread across his face. God, I’d missed this guy.
“Good,” I answered. “I’m really good.”
He pushed a tendril of sun-kissed hair from his face, giving me a second to notice the lines around his dark green eyes that hadn’t been there before. He was still as good-looking as ever, but the years were showing.
They showed on all of us, I guessed.
“Your dad never stopped bragging about you. When you graduated from Stanford and moved to Boston for that fancy residency, you would have thought he’d won the damn lottery.”
“If only he had.” I laughed, remembering the mountain of debt I’d been left with to pay after my father’s drinking habit and poor judgment depleted every dime we’d had.
“Well, at any rate, he kept us up to date on your life.”
His eyes met mine, and I nodded, feeling the regret heavy on my shoulders.
“I know I should have checked in, visited, or at least called. But you know how it is.”
He didn’t, I was sure…but he agreed anyway, nodding his head as stilted silence settled around us.
Thankfully, the waitress chose that moment to stop by the table, giving me a thankful pause down memory lane.
“I’ll have a turkey sandwich. No mayo and light on the cheese,” I requested, watching Dean’s smile falter.
“Did you turn into a chick while you were away? Who the hell doesn’t want cheese?”
I laughed, loving the way he still said whatever the hell was on his mind regardless of the consequences.
“Gotta keep this impressive physique in shape,” I joked, patting my flat stomach.
“Good Lord, you’ve turned into a dingbatter for sure,” he said as the waitress walked away to place my order.
“God, that’s a word I haven’t heard for ages,” I replied, shaking my head at the local term for an idiot mainlander.
“Well, you’d better get used to it. You show up in those frilly ass clothes, spouting off words like physique, and you’re going to get your head dunked in the tide.”
“By you, no doubt.”
“Damn straight,” he said, giving my designer jeans and tailored button down a once over. “You might be all high society now with your fancy degrees and impressive salary, but you’re still the same kid from way back who yelled at me for poking the jellyfish along the shore.”
“What can I say?” I laughed. “I was a tenderhearted son of a bitch.”
“That, you were.” He smiled. “That, you were.”
Another awkward silence fell around us like fog along the tide. One that reminded me of how long it’d truly been. Here I was, sitting across from the man I’d once counted as family, a friend I would have gone to hell and back for, but now, I didn’t know a damn thing about him.
“So, what have you been up to?” I asked, feeling the distance between us growing.
He looked away for a moment before answering, “Oh, you know, a little of this and that. Business is good. Mom would love to see you. We’ve got a few new boats now.”
I nodded, not surprised in the least by his response. Dean had always intended to work for the family business. Since we were kids, it was all he’d talked about. The Sutherland Fishing Company was big on the island, and when your name happened to be Sutherland…well, that was what you did.
Fishing.
His whole life had been planned out for him, and he’d never even thought to dispute it. It was just how life ran around here.
That was why I’d left.
Although I wasn’t a Sutherland, my life had been just as planned until I chose a different path.
“Listen, I’d better get going,” he said, avoiding my gaze. “The ferry is about to push off, and I’ve been gone most of the day, grabbing supplies and whatnot.”
I looked out at the dock, watching the ferry return from the other side. Passengers began loading by the carload in neat, straight lines. The waitress dropped off my food, and still, I sat there, staring out at the vessel that would bring me home.
It’s not home, I reminded myself.
“Would have thought a big-ass Sutherland like yourself would have his own means of transportation by now.”
He chuckled. “Sometimes, I like to ride the ferry and zone out, you know? Driving the boat requires all sorts of thinking, and every once in a while, it’s nice to just not.”
I nodded. “Yeah, man, I do.”
He still seemed hesitant, and I caught him gazing at that ferry with a worried look in his eyes. It dawned on me just then.
“Oh, come on, Dean,” I finally said with a smile. “Don’t tell me you still believe in that old superstition about the last ferry of the day.”
He laughed. “It was your wackadoodle neighbor
who told me about it. Scared the piss right out of my six-year-old body. I’ve never been able to step foot on that last boat after hearing her tell those scary stories late at night.”
I rolled my eyes. “You know as well as I do that Terri has a few loose screws, and there isn’t anything she loves more than messing with young boys, especially when she catches them in her garden. Nothing bad has ever happened to the last ferry of the night. You and I know that.”
“Then, how do you explain the crazy experience we had that one night during junior year?”
“You mean, when Molly dared me to crawl under the car and grab your ankles when she was telling you that fucking lame-ass ghost story?”
His eyes widened in shock. “You assholes! I nearly peed my pants that night.”
I laughed. “Pretty sure you actually did. I think I had to talk you out of jumping off the boat several times.”
He shook his head, chuckling under his breath. “Those were the good old days,” he said, turning his attention toward the window.
I followed. I didn’t say anything in return.
“Okay,” he finally said, his eyes finding mine. “I’ll grab the last ferry with you. But only because we need to catch up. Things are different now.”
I nodded, letting him believe that. But how could anything be different in a place where nothing changed?
We watched the second-to-last ferry pull from the shore from our table in the restaurant, knowing there was one on its way back for us. It vanished into the dark waters of the Atlantic like some mystic pirate ship sailing into oblivion. After a beer or two, we paid our tab and set out toward our vehicles.
“Definitely couldn’t have done that if I had the boat,” he said before letting out a manly belch.
I shook my head in amusement. “No, definitely not.”
“So, I’ll see you in a few,” Dean said, slipping his hands in his jean pockets.
“Right. Priority pass,” I said as something dawned on me once again.
I was a tourist here now. Dean was a local.
The dividing line was clear as day as he wandered off toward his vehicle. Residents of Ocracoke could apply for a priority pass, giving them easy access to and from the island, while people like me had to wait in line.
“I’ll see you out there,” I hollered over my shoulder, bidding him a farewell as he took his place in the priority lane.
The walk back to my rental was short and the salt air did little to calm my nerves.
This was it.
In one hour, I’d be back on Ocracoke Island.
Hoping into the car, I revved the engine and pulled into the short line of cars waiting to board the ferry, feeling like the greatest imposter of them all.
A local with no home.
A deserter with nothing to look forward to but a lonely house and a dead father.
I slowly made my way onto the ferry, remembering the last time I’d done so.
It was a few days before my freshman orientation, and I had been determined to make the cross-country trip alone. My father and I had gotten into a huge fight the day before.
“You have other options!” he yelled. “Better options.”
“You mean, the options that would keep me here, close to you.”
He sighed, placing his hands against his forehead, as if he were trying to smooth out the stress of the last three months.
“You know, I’m not the only one here who wants you to stay.”
His words hit me like a battering ram. Less than twelve hours earlier, Molly had said the same exact thing.
But nothing was going to deter me.
Not family obligation or young love.
“I’m going to college, Dad. I’m going to college where I want to go, not you. Nothing can keep me here. You can’t make me attend college at NC State or force me to come back here to take over your mess of a practice. You lost that power over me when you killed my mother.” I regretted it the instant the fateful words had fallen from my mouth. I could see the pain they’d caused, feel the last thread snap that bound us together.
“Well then, I guess that’s it,” he said, his voice hoarse and filled with regret. “I wish you nothing but the best.”
I watched him walk away, leaving the small living room I’d filled with tension and animosity.
I should have been happy. I’d stood my ground. I’d won.
But, rather than elation, I felt dread.
And overwhelming sadness.
That day was the beginning and the end for me.
The first day of my new life.
And the end of everything I’d left behind. No one had shown up to see me off. I’d driven onto the ferry, the back of my old, beat-up pickup filled to the brim, completely and utterly alone.
And that was the day I’d decided I was done.
With this town and everyone in it.
Funny how fate had a way of making a liar out of me.
“It’s like riding a bicycle, isn’t it?” Dean said as he approached me.
I’d parked my rental and cut the engine like instructed before stepping out toward the railings. The air was a bit cooler than before when I’d touched down in Raleigh, and the humidity had drastically improved since the sun set.
“If the tourists can figure it out, I sure as hell can. Besides, it’s not like I forgot all those years we used to get out of summer chores to catch a ride to Hatteras.”
Dean grinned. “Man, we sure thought we had everyone fooled, didn’t we?”
“We did,” I answered adamantly.
He just shook his head. “No, we didn’t. My ma told me years ago that she knew exactly where we went. Yours did, too. They just chose to let it go, saying, What fun is youth if you can’t get away with a few things here and there?”
I was shocked. “So, you mean, all this time, they knew? Every covert getaway we planned, every success story?”
“All crap.” He laughed, both of us turning our attention back to the water.
“Well, I’ll be…”
After some time, Dean spoke up again, “You know, your accent is becoming stronger, the closer we get to home.”
“It’s not my home,” I growled.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his shoulder rise as he shrugged.
“Okay, whatever you say, but don’t be surprised when you start bitching about mainlanders and the price of coffee in a few days.”
I rolled my eyes. “Never gonna happen, my friend. I’m here for one thing and one thing only. To help transition my father’s practice, so it can soon become someone else’s problem.”
He turned to me, looking somber. “And that’s the only reason?”
A wisp of long blonde hair and a forgotten smile flashed across my mind. I could hear her laughter. Feel her body as she surrendered to mine.
“Yes,” I answered firmly, my jaw twitching as I willed the memories away. “It’s the only reason.”
Dean’s hands went up in a symbol of surrender. “Okay, just checking.”
I watched the white spray of water the ferry left in its wake as it sped toward the island. Sped was a relative word. A one-way trip between the mainland and Ocracoke was about an hour, but considering the lack of alternatives, it was an impressive feat. I remembered my grandmother telling me of the days before the ferries had become the standard around here. It’d made leaving the island a rare occasion, and that generation still talked nonstop about how wonderfully exclusive the island had been.
After my mom had died, it’d felt pretty much the same.
Like a tropical prison meant to cage me in forever.
“Listen,” Dean said hesitantly. I could hear the sudden distress in his tone, which immediately drew my attention sideways. The lines across his forehead that hadn’t been there the last time I saw him deepened as he grappled for the right words. “I wanted you to hear it from me first. Molly and I, we’re getting ma—”
A dreadful, deep boom sounded off behind us, instant
ly cutting off Dean’s words.
Turning around, we instinctively ducked as an explosion of fire ripped through the ferry. Flames burst through the engine room, engulfing it in a fiery plume. Utter mayhem followed.
“What the—” I cursed under my breath as Armageddon surrounded us.
Screams. Bloodcurdling, soul-ripping shrieks of pain ripped through the night, causing my body to leap into action. This was what I had been trained to do after all. It was what had been hardwired into my brain after years of residency and training.
Weaving through the maze of cars, I sprang into action. Dean followed suit. We ripped doors open, pulling injured people from their cars, away from the flying wreckage.
“Dean!” I yelled, pointing to a family of four who were scared stiff. “Get them out of here!”
He nodded, carrying the battered and bruised as well as the shaken to safety. The rest, however, were for me.
Grabbing anything and everything I could from the cars, I quickly made makeshift tourniquets for wounds that wouldn’t stop bleeding, I banged on chests and started CPR, as brave souls took over so I could attend to others. And I never stopped assuring them that everything would be okay.
When, in reality, I knew the opposite.
There had been an explosion on the ferry.
A ferry carrying dozens of cars.
Gallons of gasoline.
We were literally stuck in the middle of the ocean on a ticking time bomb.
It was only a matter of time before—
Another explosion sounded, making my ears ring and my heart race. Turning toward the sound of the blast, I saw complete horror.
Cars were flying through the air and into the darkness of the water.
Screams.
God, I’d never forget the screams.
Especially one in particular.
“Jake!” Dean hollered, his voice standing out above the rest. “Jake, help!”
