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Waking Up Gray

Page 17

by R. E. Bradshaw


  Gray laughed. “That’s right. One description said he grew it long and bushy and it grew up to his eyes.” Gray demonstrated how high that was for them on her own face. “He had long curly black hair to go with it. He would twist ribbons in his beard for decoration and sometimes he would put long wicks under his hat so they stuck out, burning and smoking while he dueled with swords on deck.” She took a plastic pirate pistol from one of the children and demonstrated the next part of the description. “He wore a sling over his shoulder, like this, with three of these pistols hanging from holsters and he had daggers and swords.” She handed the toy back to the child, who now looked at it as if it were real. “They say he had fierce eyes and with all that smoke and hair, he looked like the devil himself.”

  Gray brought them all aboard with her as she told the tale. “Now imagine Blackbeard coming out on deck and seeing the two big ships moving into position to fire cannons at the Adventure. He shouted at Maynard’s ship, ‘Damn ye for Villains, who are ye? And, from whence came ye?’ Maynard yelled back that Blackbeard could see from his flag who he was and he intended to board the Adventure. Blackbeard ordered the anchor line cut so he could move into position to fire on Maynard’s ships.”

  Gray used her pirate voice for the next part. “Blackbeard took a glass of liquor and drank a toast to Maynard, saying, ‘Damnation seize my soul if I give ye Quarters, or take any from ye.’”

  Some of the children gasped. “Now, we don’t know exactly what happened, whether the Adventure ran aground or Maynard’s ships did. There was lots of cannon firing and small arms fire, but eventually two ships, the Adventure and the Jane, floated free. The Adventure sent a barrage of cannon balls into the broadside of the Jane. Blackbeard closed the distance on the Jane, with Maynard aboard; cannon balls from the Adventure had crippled the other ship. Blackbeard crashed into the side of the Jane, threw over the grappling hooks, and boarded the enemy vessel, his men throwing homemade grenades across the deck. Loud explosions and men clashing with pistols and swords filled the air. Surely Blackbeard’s band of experienced pirates could take care of the few men left alive on the British ship, but…”

  She let the pause hang in the air, before continuing, “Maynard was smart. He had left half of his crew below decks. Once the pirates were on board, the hatches burst open and the men rushed forward, firing and shouting. The two groups fought back and forth across the deck, slick with blood.” The gory details were just what the little boys wanted. They leaned even closer. “Blackbeard’s crew was driven back toward the bow, leaving the great pirate surrounded by Maynard and the rest of his men. The two enemies fired flintlock pistols at each other and then threw them aside. Blackbeard drew his cutlass and managed to break Maynard’s sword with a smashing blow. Maynard withdrew, grabbing another pistol to fire at Blackbeard. Blackbeard rushed at him, but was slashed across the neck by one of Maynard’s men.”

  “That’s not fair,” one of the boys said.

  Gray grinned at him. “No, I guess it doesn’t sound fair, but Blackbeard was a legendary fighter. Everyone was afraid of him. One man could have never taken him down. He was badly wounded this time, though. Several more of Maynard’s crew, seeing the great pirate at a disadvantage, pounced on him and killed him. The rest of the pirates were captured and later taken back to Virginia for trial.”

  “Who cut his head off?” Blackbeard’s young defender asked.

  “Well, we don’t know who actually did the deed, but when Maynard examined Blackbeard’s body, he reported the pirate had been shot no fewer than five times and had as many as twenty slashing wounds. They put his head on the bowsprit and threw his body in the ocean. It’s said that his body swam around the ship three times, looking for its head, and then sank below the surface.”

  One of the boys said, “Oh, cool.”

  “Yeah, that’s cool,” Gray said, standing and moving back to the console.

  She cranked the boat and headed it across the inlet to a small island covered in pelicans. She explained that this was Beacon Island and it was the northern most habitat breeding area for the Brown Pelican. She pointed out the differing colors, explaining the lighter ones were younger. The birds were used to people watching them and paid the boat no mind. The passengers took pictures and then Gray took them to the dock at Portsmouth Island.

  As Gray helped the passengers onto the dock, she continued her tour guide speech. “Portsmouth Village was established by North Carolina's Colonial Assembly in 1753. There’s about two hundred and fifty acres here. The last permanent residents left in 1971 and the island became part of the Cape Lookout National Seashore in 1976. About twenty of the buildings are preserved and you’ll find a visitor center at the end of this path. They’ll have maps to help you get around. Just a warning, put the bug spray on before you get off the dock. I’ll be back here at one o’clock to pick you up.”

  Ten of the passengers got off at the dock. The remaining family of six was being dropped off on the beach. They had a day of seashell hunting planned. Gray ran the boat up on the beach, helped the passengers down, and hopped back in the boat. Gray arranged to get them at three, but she would check back periodically when she could, in case they wanted off the island sooner. Little kids didn’t always have the same plans for the day as their parents, so she slipped the mom her cell phone number just in case.

  Finally alone in the boat, Gray aimed it toward the channel and opened it up. With the passengers gone, she could plane it out above the waves. Once she was sure they were far enough away, Gray slid an arm around Lizbeth’s waist and kissed her on the forehead. Lizbeth looked up at Gray, wanting to say so much, but unable to over the roar of the engines. She decided to be content with just spending the day watching and listening, learning all about the islands and more about Gray.

  They did the round trip from Portsmouth to Ocracoke four times that day. Each trip Gray told the stories, a little different every time, but the facts remained the same. They caught moments alone on the water when they could, but they were fleeting; between dropping off and picking up, the boat was usually filled with passengers. With only a couple of trips on shore to use the restroom, Lizbeth spent the entire day on the boat. The only time they stopped moving was to load passengers, except for the fifteen-minute floating lunch between pick-ups.

  Just off the dock at Portsmouth Island, Gray had dropped the anchor overboard and sat down beside Lizbeth on one of the bench seats. Lizbeth handed Gray a sandwich and a bottle of water, pulling the same out of the cooler for herself. Gray stretched her long legs across the deck of the boat. She went off tour director duty for a few minutes, resuming her true laid-back persona.

  “Gray, you have the best job in the world.”

  “It is a cool job, I’ll admit it,” Gray said.

  “Do you miss Sea World?”

  “No, not really. It was something I wanted to do and I did it. I certainly don’t miss being on someone else’s schedule.”

  “I don’t want to pry, and tell me if it’s none of my business, but you seem to do all right financially.” Lizbeth was just curious.

  Gray smiled at her. “Are you trying to figure out if I can afford you?”

  Lizbeth couldn’t help but laugh. “No, honey. When I said I got even with my ex-husband, I mean I really got even with him. As a matter of fact, you could be my kept woman.”

  “I can take care of myself, thank you,” Gray said, pretending to be offended. Then she added an afterthought, “What happens if he finds out about me?”

  “Nothing, as far as I know. There was no contingency on the money. I have an annuity and the lump sum of cash I dug out of his soul. God, James loves money. I also have a massive house that he was forced to pay off, so I’m good.”

  “Jesus, what kind of evidence did you have on that guy?”

  “The kind where he would never have been able to show his face at the country club again if it got out. I wasn’t the only person he was betraying. It would have hurt his reputation an
d his wallet a whole lot worse to reveal the extent of his sexual conquests.”

  Gray let that sink in, then answered Lizbeth’s original question. “I do really well actually. I paid for the boat a long time ago. I make more money now than I did at Sea World. I do have to pay for my own benefits, but it’s still more.”

  Lizbeth grinned. “Good, then we don’t have to worry about money. We can check that off the list of things couples fight about.”

  “There’s a list?” Gray asked, stuffing more sandwich down and checking her watch.

  “Yes, there is. We’ve already discussed the infidelity thing. I think we’re both clear on that. We won’t be fighting over children, because I’m not having anymore and the one I have is grown. I think if you were going to have a kid, you would have by now. You should have. You’re wonderful with them.”

  “Being a mother wasn’t something I saw myself doing. I would have supported Dana, if she wanted to, and I would have been a good parent, but actually being the mother wasn’t on my list of things to do.”

  Lizbeth giggled. “Gray, as hard as I try, I cannot picture you nine months pregnant.”

  Gray sat up, pulling her legs under her. “I know,” she said, laughing. “It just doesn’t suit me.”

  Lizbeth continued with her list. “So, kids we can check off, too. I love Fanny, so in-laws aren’t a problem for me and I don’t care if my parents like you or not.”

  Gray was watching Lizbeth intently as she checked off her list.

  “Housework, snoring, what to eat, I don’t think that those things will be a problem.”

  Gray chuckled. “Lizbeth, you snore.”

  “I do not,” Lizbeth shot back.

  “You did last night.”

  “I must have been exhausted. That’s the only time I think I snore,” Lizbeth said, then added quickly, “I’m sorry. Did it keep you up?”

  “I found it endearing. I just nudged you and you snuggled up to me and quit,” Gray said, sliding an arm around Lizbeth’s shoulder. “What else is on the list?”

  “Ex’s, sex, and careers. The sex I think we’ve got a good handle on.” Lizbeth laughed and winked at Gray. “The ex thing, well, you don’t have to worry about dealing with mine. He’s completely out of the picture.”

  “Mine, too,” Gray said, but Lizbeth didn’t really believe her.

  Gray hadn’t recovered fully. Dana’s betrayal would rear its ugly head, of that she was sure. In that regard, Lizbeth’s own conviction never to be taken advantage of again might cause some issues, if she ever suspected Gray of anything. Hell, Lizbeth knew she’d be gone before Gray had a chance to explain, but she’d made that clear, hadn’t she?

  “That just leaves careers. I think yours is fantastic,” Lizbeth said as she put away the wrappers from the lunch. When Lizbeth looked back, Gray had stopped smiling. “What’s wrong?”

  “What about your career, Lizbeth? You’ve waited all your life for this.”

  Lizbeth smiled, sliding up close to Gray. “I’ve waited all my life for you, too. I don’t have to take that job in the library. I don’t have to have a job at all.”

  “But I don’t want you to wake up one day and blame me for taking that away from you.”

  “Gray, if I lived here, I would be living in the middle of my research area. I could write papers, consult, freelance, there are an endless number of possibilities.”

  Gray brightened. It was obvious to Lizbeth that Gray had not thought about her career in that way. It gave Gray hope and it showed in her big smile.

  Lizbeth pecked her on the cheek. “See, I told you not to worry. We’ll figure this out.”

  Gray hugged Lizbeth to her and said, “I guess I’ll just leave the logistics up to you. You seem to have put quite a bit of thought into it.”

  “Honey,” Lizbeth began with a wicked grin, “if you think I’m going to let your ass back on the street, you’re crazy. Now that I know why all those women wanted more, I don’t plan to let them have any.”

  “Lizbeth, you don’t think what went on with those other women compares to what goes on between us, do you?”

  “I wouldn’t know. You’re the only woman I’ve been with. I did wonder if it was so amazing because you’re a woman, or because you’re you.”

  “No, Lizbeth. What’s going on between you and me is not just because I’m a woman. This is unique, at least in my experience.”

  “Well, you’re the expert,” Lizbeth said, giggling.

  “Are you curious about other women?”

  “Why would I want another woman when I seem to have stumbled upon the queen lover herself?”

  “How would you know all lesbians couldn’t do what I do?” Gray grinned.

  Lizbeth laughed at Gray. “I’m no expert, but I’d venture to guess you have special talents.”

  They had been too close, too long. Lizbeth could feel Gray breathing against her. It intensified her already constant craving for Gray. She saw the shift in Gray’s eyes as well. If they hadn’t been where people could see them, they would have been naked in second. An arm around the shoulder was one thing, butt-ass naked in the bottom of the boat was something else entirely.

  Gray stood up suddenly. She dropped her sunglasses on the seat and pulled her tank top over her head, leaving her wearing the board shorts and swim top. She took one big step up on the seat cushion and then dove overboard. The water was calm and clear where they were and Lizbeth could see Gray underwater. She swam under the boat and around to the back, not coming up for air, as Lizbeth walked along the railing watching her. Gray, Lizbeth learned that moment, was an excellent swimmer and very graceful underwater. Gray’s blond head popped up behind the motor. She used the stern ladder to enter the boat.

  Gray shook her head, showering Lizbeth with the spray, then pulled a towel out from under the console bench and dried off.

  “Gray, do you want to explain your sudden need to plunge into the sea?”

  “One of us needed a cold shower. That was the closest thing handy and I volunteered.”

  Gray put the tank top and sunglasses back on. They began their next run of loading and unloading. Lizbeth even got into the action, helping with the tying up at the dock and loading of passengers. By the end of the day, Lizbeth was tired, sunburned, and even more in love with Gray and her island. It really was Gray and the island. They were a package deal. If Gray was plucked from this place, she would wither and die. Lizbeth started working on a plan to stay on Ocracoke, never going back to Durham unless it was to visit. Lizbeth was buying into the whole deal, hook, line, and sinker.

  #

  That evening, after removal of the final pieces of plywood from the upstairs windows of Lizbeth’s cottage, and supper with Fanny, Gray sat on the edge of the bed, gently rubbing aloe on Lizbeth’s sunburned skin.

  “I guess I shouldn’t have kept you out in the sun so long.”

  Lizbeth smiled into the pillowcase, cool against her burning skin. She was lying face down, sans clothing, as Gray’s fingers slid across her shoulders. The aloe immediately cooled the fire engulfing every part of her body that had been exposed to the blazing autumn rays.

  Lizbeth, eyes closed, practically glowing inside and out, said, “I loved every minute of it. Thank you.” The thank you faded into the pillow, as she drifted between pleasure and sleep.

  Gray had brought Lizbeth home after supper and had her way with her in the shower. Lizbeth didn’t even notice the sunburn until afterward, when she was completely naked, and the beet red glow of her limbs contrasted so vividly with the paleness of her protected skin. Lizbeth was satiated, satisfied, and sleepy. She felt her body floating between earth and her dreams. Gray kissed Lizbeth on the cheek, still tracing her stinging flesh with aloe on her fingertips.

  With Lizbeth’s last cognizant breath, she said, “Gray O’Neal, your hands are a gift from God.”

  Chapter Ten

  Gray told Lizbeth that she usually didn’t run tours on Sunday mornings, but she had los
t so much business from the storm, she had to make it up where she could. The summer season was coming to a close. Tomorrow was Labor Day, the last big weekend of the summer. She left a sleepy Lizbeth in bed at seven and went down to the docks.

  Lizbeth roused herself in time to accompany Fanny to church. Small talk about the weather accompanied the walk. The storm left behind clear skies and temperatures in the mid eighties. The wind today would be a bit cooler because it had shifted to the east-northeast. Lizbeth learned this from Fanny as they strolled along. Lizbeth could tell Fanny had something on her mind, but they made it to the church without her finding out what it was.

  Without the distraction of Gray, Lizbeth was able to follow the sermon and participate in all the congregational activities fully. She had remembered to eat this time, which she had to explain to numerous people who had witnessed her previous swoon into Gray’s arms. She waited patiently as Fanny visited with her friends. Lizbeth listened as the brogue twisted and rolled off the islanders tongues, relaying their recent experiences with Earl to one another.

  She was deep into thoughts concerning her research paper on the way home. Listening today had sparked an idea she wanted to get down on paper before she forgot it. Fanny’s remark quickly snapped her back to Howard Street.

  “I hope you’re prepared for how hard Gray can love a thing.”

  Lizbeth thought silently for a moment, evaluating Fanny’s observation. “Yes, ma’am, I think I am.”

  “Gray’s told me a bit about you. I got a feelin’ y’all both got your hearts mommicked. Been hard on Gray. She don’t even won’t another dog cause she says she don’t won’t to go through losin’ nothin’ else, and that child has had a dog taggin’ along behind her since she could walk. Damn dogs used to follow her to school and wait on her. School teacher had to let ‘em inside in the bad weather or Gray would leave.” Fanny chuckled at the memory.

  “Fanny, I’m not going to hurt Gray.” Lizbeth thought that was what Fanny was getting at.

 

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