22
We made our way to the beach, and pushed the old boat past the ankle deep water, over the patches of seagrass where the minnows took cover. Agwe would always move to the bow to prepare the line and hooks when we fished. That left me or Forest rowing. He was a small man, no more than five and a half feet tall. I was sure his back had rowed that old boat a million times or more. It made us happy to help him.
Agwe never smelled, and I have no idea how. He always wore the same navy blue shorts that were covered in stains. A rope kept them fastened to his thin waist. That was it. I never saw him use soap. He swam all the time in the saltwater, so I guess that took care of it.
I slowed the boat to an area I was used to fishing with him.
“Let’s push further today, Joey. About a hundred yards more.”
I nodded and kept rowing the old boat. Agwe had three lines ready with fresh strips of grouper threaded onto each hook. He took the meat from the back of the fish where there were too many bones to pick out.
“Good.”
I stopped rowing and reached for one of the lines. It was funny how we naturally settled into routines. I had done this many times before over the last few weeks. I would stop rowing and reach for the line. He would toss his bait off the bow. Then I would sit on the back of the old boat with my toes touching the blue water and toss the bait.
“Is Becca working today?” asked Agwe. Our backs were to each other, but could hear fine as the water was calm and the breeze was light.
“Yes. Phoebe said she’s going to send her home with some rum cakes.”
“Good. Did you ask about a lemon pie?”
I smiled. “I forgot.”
Agwe laughed, “But you didn’t forget to ask about your rum cakes.”
“I’ll ask next time.”
“Does she like Becca? Is she a good worker?” asked Agwe.
“Yeah. And she tells Becca she's too young to be in love.” I slowly let line out, stringing it over my left index finger.
“She’s wrong,” said Agwe.
“You think so?” I asked.
“Joey, look at me.”
I grabbed the rail of the old boat and turned around so I could see Agwe. The sun was bright and overhead so I had to squint.
“She is wrong.”
I nodded and turned back to my line.
“Many people love on the surface their entire lives, maybe even most,” said Agwe.”The two of you have gone to the deep waters. If anyone wants to tell you different, I have some simple advice.”
“What?” I asked.
“Don’t listen to them.”
“Fair enough,” I replied.
There were a lot of fish on the reef, but off the reef getting a bite was much harder. When we did get a bite, though, it was always a good fish. I loved being on that old boat fishing with Agwe. I was too old to get adopted or have a new father, but I already considered him like one. I wondered if I got locked up if these memories would make the time easier or harder. My eyes started to glass at the thought of leaving. I also wondered how long Agwe would let us stay. He never talked about it. He never planned anything. It was like he just accepted us as a new part of his life or something. If he wasn’t going to bring it up, we sure as hell wouldn’t either.
“I saw you dancing this morning,” I said.
“Yes,” he replied.
“Every morning when the sun comes up. Sounds like you’re singing. What are you doing?”
“Worshipping,” said Agwe.
“The sun god?” I asked.
Agwe laughed. “No, I worship the one they call Jesus.”
I thought to myself about some classes I took last year at Havana.
“Oh,” I said.
“You heard of Him?”
“Well, honestly of all the religions we learned about in school, I think that one makes the least sense.”
Agwe laughed, “Yes, you are very right.”
“I’ve never seen you go to Church,” I said.
“No there are only two on the island,” said Agwe while letting more line drift over the bottom.
“What’s wrong with those?”
“I was asked to leave.”
“It seems like they wouldn’t want people to leave.”
“Well, they get upset if you smoke before service on Sunday. I only laughed twice, but both times during the sermon.”
“You smoke weed?” I asked.
“I did when I was a young man, but not anymore. Well, that’s not true. There’s a man that lives across from Phoebe. Older than me, his name is Joseph.”
“Is that the guy always sits on the porch with the pipe?” I asked.
“Yes, that is him,” said Agwe, focusing on the line in his hands. “I usually visit Joseph on Sundays. We talk about this and that. On his anniversary he lifts up a board from his porch and pulls out some very old, fine, weed as you call it. I smoke it with him.”
“His wife lives there?” I asked.
“No, she left him a long time ago.”
I caught Agwe looking up at the sky and smiling again. Such an odd habit, but I enjoyed our talks. He was the easiest person in the world to talk to. The fish didn’t seem to be biting that day, and my mind drifted back to Becca constantly. I wondered if she was up now and what she was doing. We had a few hours before she would have to be at Phoebe’s house. If I could convince Agwe to go in, then I might get a chance to hang out with her for a while.
“Doesn’t look like they’re biting,” I said.
“Nonsense. We’ve only been fishing an hour or less,” said Agwe.
“How much longer you think we should stay out?” I asked.
“Ah. Oh, a fisherman can fish unless a pretty girl waits for him on shore. That’s what my grandfather used to say. “
“She’s more than pretty,” I responded.
“What would you say?” asked Agwe.
“I don’t know. What are words?” I asked.
“Very true,” said Agwe. ”Let us bring our lines in so you can see the indescribable girl that you can’t stop thinking about.”
“No, Agwe. I’m good. I was just checking to see what you wanted to do.”
“Compromise?” asked Agwe.
“Sure.”
“Another half hour then?” he asked.
“Sounds good.”
I pulled my line in to check the bait. When it reached the boat I saw it hadn’t been touched. I tossed the baited hook back out and watched the line slowly sink into the warm blue water. The fishing line reminded me of Becca. She floated during the day and at night it was like something slowly pulled her into a deep, unseen place filled with fear and bad memories.
“That thing you told me to do when I sleep,” I said.
“Yes, the cabin.”
“Right. It works.”
“That’s good, Joey. Yes it does work, but only if your mind is strong enough to stay inside the cabin. It takes some exercise.”
“I wish I could help Becca.”
“You are,” said Agwe.
“I don’t think so.”
“You can’t fix the past for her. She is healing. It is going to take time. You are helping her heal.”
That made sense.
“But anything else you think I could do to help her?” I asked.
“Ah! Had a bite!” shouted Agwe.
“Off?”
“Yes.”
Agwe brought in his line and took the largest piece of grouper left for his hook.
“What was it you were asking?”
“Becca. Sometimes she will scream in the night.”
He nodded, “Yes, I have heard her.”
“Can you think of anything else that will at least help take the edge off?”
“I already told you, you are. Time, Joey.”
“I want to do more,” I responded and brought in my fishing line.
Agwe let out a deep breath. “Has your past been easy?” Agwe asked.
“No.”
&nb
sp; “You slept in fields, yes?”
“Sure. Alleys, under bridges, all over.”
“But you seem to remember the time in the field fondly,” said Agwe.
“Yes.”
“What helped you?”
“My friend was with me most of the time.”
“Good. Anything else?”
“A stray dog we named Roosevelt. He slept next to us. We snuck him bologna every night.”
“Okay,” said Agwe. “Find her a dog. There are strays all over Queens Bluff.”
“What about Chico?” I asked.
“Chico is old and smelly, like me. Find her a puppy.”
I wasn’t sure the two of us coming up with something involving Becca was a good idea, but I remembered that little dog that slept next to us. It felt like we were our own family. I would do it.
When we made it back in, I slowly walked up the trail leading to the house. Movement to my right caught my attention, and a large heron flew overhead. I stopped and watched the creature that resembled a small plane or dinosaur more than a bird. It flapped its wings and let the wind carry it out to sea. Life had changed. I would have taken little notice of that bird before. Now I stopped for such things.
When I reached the house Becca was inside washing her hands. I approached the old window above the sink from the outside. She jumped.
“You scared me!” she said.
“You wanna build a sand castle?” I asked.
“Really?”
Her reaction made me wonder if I said something weird.
I shrugged. “Yeah. What’s wrong with sand castles?”
She smiled at me. Becca had this magazine-like smile that only appeared when she laughed. The one that I loved, though, was the one that I received just then. Slight, closed lipped, complimenting her eyes.
It was overcast that day. The schools of bright silver Menhaden pushed close to shore, chased by rays and a shark or two. The sand was still wet from a light rain that morning. I sat down cross-legged in the sand, and Becca sat next to me.
“How do you build a sand castle?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Never have.”
I took two handfuls of wet sand and plopped it in front of me. The sand felt cool in my hands. I brought it to a point at the top and Becca poked holes in the side of it.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Windows.”
“I think we each make our own,” I replied.
“But I want to live in yours,” she said.
“Okay.” I moved to the side so that we were facing each other and the sand castle was in between us.
“Lots of windows,” said Becca pressing small holes all over the castle. “Lots.”
I molded a large round roof with a diagonal pattern forged from a twig that I found next to me. Becca made squiggly lines in the sand next to the castle.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Strawberry gardens.”
“I love strawberries.”
“Me too,” she said.
I began building walls around the castle and gardens.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“A great wall.”
“Why?”
“All castles have walls. You have to keep out the bad guys.”
“There aren’t any bad guys in this world,” said Becca.
“Well, just in case. I’ll build the wall.”
Becca grabbed my hand.
“People don’t hurt each other here.”
“There have to be bad guys. Some of the good guys here, might turn bad. We need to be able to keep them out.”
Becca plopped a small piece of sand down away from the castle.
“Here. That can be your lookout tower.”
I raised my eyebrow a little. “Fine, but I’m making it bigger.”
“You won’t need it. Well, maybe we can get married up there,” said Becca with a hint of laughter.
We took our fingers and made a river that encircled the castle and weaved around the gardens, out to the ocean. I made a dock of twigs that stretched away from the castle.
“This is where we will keep our boat,” I said.
“Andros!” exclaimed Becca.
“Okay, but fixed up. New paint, interior, sails, everything,” I replied.
“Yeah, but not too much,” she said. I remembered her disdain for the boat on the dock and found her comment odd, but I didn’t say anything.
The pattern on the roof was losing its detail from the breeze. I carved out the lines again.
“Where is our room?” I asked.
Becca pointed at the top.
“All we need is a soft bed, lots of windows, and a fireplace,” said Becca.
I didn’t want to leave that village in the sand. The beach, Becca, our imaginations working together was all I wanted, all I needed. I wished there was a way to just stay there and play. It felt like that should be an option. For us to be together doing what we wanted. But it was scary, liking someone that much. Fear would come up and bite me on the ass all the time. What if she this, what if she that, blah blah blah, it never shut up, never left me alone. One thing I knew though, I had never cared so much about another person and never felt so cared for. I never really felt like I had a reason to live until then, I just went on with my routines for the day and went to sleep. That was it. Never asked questions. Escaping was only a daydream, and had Forest not overheard my plan, it probably would have never happened.
The Less Fortunates Page 22
