Compass Rose

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Compass Rose Page 30

by John Casey


  “No need to imagine,” Dick said. “He felt underdressed for the occasion.”

  Mary laughed, bit her lip to keep from laughing again. Jack glared at her. He said to Dick, “I didn’t know you could be so amusing.” He smoothed his suit coat and said, “I wish you a speedy recovery.” He left.

  Mary said, “I shouldn’t have laughed. I’m afraid that pissed him off even more. Maybe he’ll get over it when he finds out. But why didn’t you tell him?”

  “Not my place to. And this way he’ll run into his own hot air. His kid screwed up, but I feel a little sorry for the kid. I might even ask Tony to lay off. But I don’t mind that I pissed off Jack Aldrich. He set my teeth on edge from the beginning—the way he talked to the nurse out there.”

  “There’s that,” Mary said. “And all the while he was talking you to death he gave no thought that your beer’s getting warm and your codfish cake cold.”

  chapter seventy-two

  When May got home from grocery shopping there was a minivan in the driveway and two men in her backyard. They were measuring the distance from the septic tank to the well. Then they measured from the septic tank to the creek. She said hello and asked them what they were doing. One of them started to answer, but the other stepped in and said, “You’d be better off asking over at the township office. I wouldn’t want to misspeak.”

  May put the groceries away, came back outside. The man who didn’t want to misspeak said, “That’s a big garden. You use manure? Cow? Sheep? Pig? Chicken? Anything like that?”

  She pointed to her compost pile. “It’s vegetables and leaves,” she said. “I don’t use anything else.” If he didn’t want to misspeak, he shouldn’t go trying to blame something on her garden. She said, “I’m May Pierce. I’m married to Dick Pierce. And that there”—she pointed—“is Pierce Creek. I take quahogs out downstream. Flounder, too. If you’re looking to find some runoff, you’re looking in the wrong place.” She took a breath. “You going to inspect those Sawtooth Point cottages? Those yachts moored in Sawtooth Pond? You think they all pump their waste at the boatyard the way they’re supposed to?”

  The man tilted his head, not a yes or a no. As he left he said, “Sorry for any inconvenience,” but that didn’t mean anything, either.

  She went flat. Then she was embarrassed at how she’d bristled and got on her high horse. But what were they after? She called Phoebe.

  Phoebe was reassuring. “When we repaired your house—that was, what, fifteen years ago?—we got a building permit and a new certificate of occupancy. But I’m going to the township office anyway; I have to get some permits. I’ll chat somebody up about your place.”

  Phoebe called back after lunch. “It’s just Jack. Apparently he wanted to make sure he could say to prospective buyers how clean the water is. And he owns Mary Scanlon’s old restaurant, and that’s up that other creek that comes into Sawtooth Pond, so he came in and waved his hand over the map in a vague way that included you. They pretty much snap to when Jack wants something. So that’s what that was all about.”

  May went back out to the garden. Dick hadn’t said when he’d be back, just that he was looking around for another boat here and there, maybe Wickford, maybe as far as New Bedford. May pulled weeds and buried them in the compost pile. The wind had backed to the southeast, likely to blow in a fog, good for the garden. It also carried the usually unheard sounds from Sawtooth—a blurred voice—someone shouting at the tennis court? The distinct sound of a car door, the whine of an outboard motor. All those people who could go anywhere. Jack, who could wave his hand across a map.

  chapter seventy-three

  The first news of trouble Mary had was from Rose. Mary hadn’t made peace with Elsie yet, but Rose still came to Mary’s apartment to get some more help with her songs. The second time Rose came, she said, “I’m not sure I want to sing at Sawtooth.”

  “Why on earth not?”

  “Uncle Jack is doing something, and Mom is furious. She tried to explain it to me, but I don’t get it. Uncle Jack wants to buy Dad and May’s house. I thought Dad and May should just say no, but Mom says there’s a way he can make them. It’s some tricky legal thing. Anyway, she wants me to quit the show. She said that when you find out what Uncle Jack is up to, you won’t want to work for him, either.”

  “Ah, well. That’s always a question. But you—I’d hate to see you miss this chance—you’ll learn a lot singing with trained singers. JB says that rehearsals are going well and that they’re crazy about you. You’re not nervous about it, are you?”

  “No. I mean, I was, but it’s fine now.”

  “Your mother gets furious at Jack all the time. Why don’t we wait a bit and see what Dick and May have to say? This could just be Jack’s hot air.”

  That afternoon Jack showed up in the Sawtooth kitchen, all smiles.

  “Mary, Mary, Mary—it always cheers me up to get a whiff of whatever you’re cooking. Could you come up to my office for a minute? I’d like to discuss what we’re going to serve the dinner-theater crowd. Do we have enough waitresses? Oh, and things in general. Take your time. I’ll be up there the rest of the afternoon.”

  When she went in he was pacing back and forth in front of the seaside window. He gestured toward a chair for her but kept on pacing, his hands clasped behind his back, his chin to his chest. He said, “All those years ago, when I bought your restaurant, I gave you a fair price.”

  “More than fair.”

  “And I’m paying you a fair wage.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you absolutely deserve it. You’re one of the pillars of Sawtooth. And I hope that over the years we’ve had a friendly relationship.”

  “You’ve stepped on my toes now and then, but we get along.”

  “Well, good, because I’d like some help. I know you and Elsie are close, and you and Rose.” He stopped pacing and faced her. “Elsie has just told me Rose isn’t going to sing in our show.”

  “Elsie told you,” Mary said. “But what has Rose said?”

  “Elsie wouldn’t let me talk to her. I tried to explain to Elsie that I’m doing this in large part for Rose’s benefit.”

  “You may have suggested Rose, but the director auditioned her.”

  “Of course, of course. Rose is splendid. I didn’t mean to imply anything to the contrary. And I certainly don’t want you to get touchy. Everyone’s become so damned touchy, I can’t say a word without someone taking it wrong. If people could just keep from mixing up things … The show is one thing.” Jack chopped at the side of his desktop with his left hand. “And the rest of it is another thing.” He chopped the other side.

  “And just what is the rest of it?”

  “I’m surprised Elsie hasn’t told you. She’s boiling over in public. We’ve quarreled about one thing or another over the years—she even tried to keep me from buying Sawtooth, some nonsense about natural habitat. She never did understand the facts of life.”

  “I think Elsie knows the facts of life.”

  “All Elsie knows is flora and fauna. Back then Sawtooth was bound to be sold, and in any hands but mine it would have become an eyesore. I’ve preserved its natural beauty, and I’ve made a limited number of members happy. Elsie forgets that they need a natural habitat, too. But that’s not the issue now. Now she’s saying that I’m after the Pierce property in some vindictive way. There is nothing personal involved. I’ll admit I spoke a little prematurely about those damned survival suits, but I was acting out of a father’s reflex. All that talk hit a nerve, and I jumped. I’m happy to let Captain Teixeira have the last word about survival suits. I’d be happy to shake Dick Pierce’s hand. No ill will, despite his clever remarks. But that’s not the issue, either. Not relevant. I’ve had my eye on that land for years, part of a master plan. It would be a godsend for the Pierces if everyone would just calm down. I could help Dick Pierce out of financial difficulties on a businesslike basis. Dick could buy another boat, buy a nice little house. There’s a f
ixer-upper in Snug Harbor I happen to own that I’d sell him below market. If Elsie would keep her nose out of it, the Pierces would see reason, but Elsie is acting as if she’s some sort of authority on what happens around here. Authority is something you earn. You earn it by taking positive steps that build something of value, something that benefits the community. You don’t become an authority by being a maverick complainer. The fact is that Sawtooth is an economic engine, it’s a public benefit, and that fact is recognized by the people who actually run things, people with whom I have a long-standing relationship. The Sawtooth master plan is bound to go forward no matter how much noise people make. What it boils down to is ‘The dogs bark, but the caravan passes.’ ”

  Mary said, “Well, then, I don’t see how you need any help from me at all.” Over the years she’d seen Jack as laughably pompous, bumptious, and occasionally offensive but occasionally robust and even attractive in his billows of enthusiasm for everyone—everyone at Sawtooth—to have a splendid time. Now she saw him becoming denser and heavier.

  But then, as if guided by some counselor lodged inside him, he beamed at her pleasantly. “You’re quite right. All that’s a matter for another day. The more immediate issue—and for this I do need your help—is Rose. I don’t believe I told you how grateful I am for all you’ve done for Rose. What would Rose and Elsie have done without you? I’ve done a thing or two myself, behind the scenes, as it were, but I think now is a good time for you and me to put our heads together. Next year Rose will be thinking about college. In my day a solid B average at a good school and a note from the headmaster and you were in. I’m not saying that was fair. I’m sure a lot of perfectly good people got left out. But then it got to be testing, testing, testing, and the good colleges got filled with a lot of overachieving test takers. Everyone got bored. What the admissions people are looking for now is an application that says, ‘I’ve been to the moon.’ I’ve raised money for Brown, I’ve given money to Brown, and I couldn’t get my own son in. I could write a letter for Rose and it wouldn’t weigh more than a feather. Well, perhaps a little more. But this show is Rose’s trip to the moon. Among other things, I have good reason to believe that it’ll be reviewed not just by the Providence Journal but the Boston Globe, the Hartford Courant, and possibly some sort of notice in the New York Times. I’ve had some press kits printed up, and we’ve sent them out everywhere, from Boston to New York.”

  “I understand,” Mary said. “I’d love to see Rose in the part, but—”

  “She’d be cutting off her nose to spite her face.”

  “But your master plan is—”

  “Apples and oranges.”

  “You can say ‘apples and oranges,’ but you’re asking Rose to go against her own family.”

  “If Elsie would stop yelling at me, I could say to her what I’ve said to you. I’m Rose’s uncle; I’m doing this for our family.”

  “I was thinking of Dick and May.”

  Jack leaned back in his chair, waved a hand, and let it fall in a way that made Mary wonder if he filed Rose and Dick in his mind as separately as apples and oranges. “There is no particular reason you should know this,” she said. “But as much as Rose grew up in Elsie’s house, she grew up in Dick and May’s house, too. I brought Rose over there when she was just learning to crawl. She’s close to May and Dick, and her two brothers.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, glad to hear they’re all being so modern. And I must say for a girl born with what used to be something of a stigma, our Rose seems to be everyone’s darling. I think that says something about the community we have here.”

  Mary twisted against the arms of her chair. She thought she’d made a straight statement, but Jack was impenetrable in his—what? Oblivion? In his sense that his approval or disapproval was what everyone needed to go on living?

  Jack said, “And I’m trying to do what’s best for the community in general. Highest and best use of the Pierce property, and for that matter the old Hazard property. I’m not insensible to the needs of the Pierce family. I’ll see they’re made right. Among other things, I’m bringing Tom Pierce along in an enterprise of ours. That’s on the one hand. On the other hand, there’s Rose. I made sure she got a scholarship at the Perryville School. I’ve done one or two things for Elsie’s financial security, and now I’m trying to chart the best course for Rose.”

  “The Hazard property?” Mary said. “You mean that old barn where Mr. Hazard stored his books?”

  “A bit more to it than that. That’s in the offing. I’m keeping in touch with the daughter. As it is now, it’s landlocked, but as part of Sawtooth it’ll have access to Sawtooth Pond and our bit of beach. And presto—it’s vastly more valuable. The same thing applies to the Pierce property. That’s on a creek, but it hardly counts as waterfront—you can’t take anything bigger than a skiff up it. The new Sawtooth members will be able to moor their sailboats here. We have a ketch in here now, forty-two feet length overall, seven-foot draft.” He swiveled his chair to look over Sawtooth Pond.

  Mary was glad he’d appended his boat footnote. It gave her time to recover from the news that Jack considered himself still in the hunt for the old Hazard place. It also let her begin to consider her own wishes without Jack’s exhalations fogging up the room.

  She said, “It’s time I got back to the kitchen. I’ll be having another talk with Rose in any case, and I’ll tell her about your college notions, but I won’t be your agent. I’ve already told her what I think.”

  “And what do you think?”

  “I love her singing.”

  “And I hope you have some feeling of obligation to Sawtooth.”

  Mary kept herself from saying, “That’s apples and oranges.” She said, “As soon as we get this evening’s meal on the table, I’ll be thinking of ways to make things come out right.”

  Halfway down the stairs she thought, Dear God, at the very end there I might as well have bobbed and curtsied. It was that sliver of shame that pricked her into examining her conscience. She hadn’t lied, but she’d prevaricated. “That old barn …” Odd—she’d started out no more than going along with JB, but now she’d become the hungrier one. And what difference was there between Jack’s land hunger and her own? She could say to herself that she wasn’t in it for money, but the priest lecturing her old confirmation class on the seven deadly sins would have made short work of that. Avarice wasn’t just about money. It was desire for the things of the world.

  When she reached the swinging door from the dining room to the kitchen, she looked through the porthole and stepped out of the way of a waitress with a tray of napkins and silverware. And what if she went to Jack and said she’d give up her contract to buy the Hazard place if he’d let Dick and May stay where they were? She hadn’t examined her conscience this relentlessly for ages, but the sisters and priests had taught her well enough how to do it as painfully as possible. Now she pictured Rose in front of her asking her to save May and Dick’s house.

  chapter seventy-four

  After Phoebe found out that the township was considering—or possibly already planning—to take May and Dick’s house and three acres by eminent domain, May and Dick went to see Phoebe and Eddie’s lawyer.

  Dick asked right off what it would cost.

  “Hard to tell,” the lawyer said. “It’s an interesting case. That’s not good news for a client. Now, if you were suing for damages, I could work on a contingency-fee basis. But you’ll be defending against a taking. If you win, you’ll end up with what you started with.”

  “And your bill,” Dick said.

  “Yes.”

  “Can’t we sue Jack Aldrich? He’s the one behind all this. He’s the one aiming to end up with our land.”

  “He hasn’t done anything. I mean, nothing actionable.”

  “He’s pushing the township.”

  “I know. It’s not right. But this is a troubling area of the law. Here’s what’s happened to the law concerning eminent domain—”


  “This going to take a while?” Dick said. May put a hand on his arm.

  “This is a preliminary consultation. No fee. Then we’ll see what you want to do. Okay, then—eminent domain used to be for things like public roads or parks. In 1954 the Supreme Court said that a project ‘need not actually be open to the public to constitute public use.’ ”

  “Sounds like mumbo jumbo to me.”

  “Yes. On its face it does sound self-contradictory. Anyway, that opened the door to what they said last year—eminent domain can be used so long as the project is ‘rationally related to a conceivable public purpose.’ It looks as though that means simply increasing a township’s tax base.”

  “So any son of a bitch rich enough to build something fancier than what’s there can just grab it? That’s the goddamnedest thing I ever heard of.”

  “I know, I know. I can see how you’d like to punch Jack Aldrich in the nose. If I thought that was the only satisfaction you could get, hell, I’d hold your coat.”

  Dick gave a grunt. May turned and saw the side of his mouth twitch, as close to a laugh as she’d seen anyone get out of him since he lost Spartina.

  The lawyer said, “I understand Jack Aldrich made you an offer—”

  “I told him our place isn’t for sale.”

  “If it looks to him as if this eminent-domain taking is going to drag on, he’s likely to get impatient. You ever hear that old song ‘I want what I want when I want it’? He’s that kind of guy. If you make it look like you’re going to fight—”

 

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