The Pirate's Legacy

by Sarita Leone

  “Not a thing.” Uncle Ted shook his head. “He was angry. Probably hurt that you refused to marry him—yet again. And he must feel foolish. I mean, that man has spent his whole life loving someone who doesn’t reciprocate. If it were me, I’d feel pretty awful.”

  Silence descended as they contemplated how to deal with the chaos Neil left behind.

  Finally, they gave up thinking. For a while, anyhow. No one had a solution, and the events of the day had tired everyone.

  Julia asked if there was any chance she could get some time playing guitar with Ted. He did not hesitate; the man loved playing almost as much as a man can love anything. Her guitar had dried without warping, so she ran to the house and retrieved it.

  The music was soulful. They strummed, sang, strummed some more. They went from James Brown to James Taylor to Janis Joplin. Then, The Knack’s My Sharona, with its classic riffs.

  Gabby and Reva stood, walked to the house, and began to make order from some of the turmoil. When Chloe started to rise, thinking she would help, they both insisted she stay put. She was on her third drink, which was slightly more watery but still mind-numbing, so she watched while they nailed plastic sheeting over the holes.

  Julia stepped back to survey their handiwork when Gabby went inside to grab some trash bags.

  “Doesn’t look bad.” She wiped a hand down the leg of her jeans. They were grimy from crawling on the remaining roof rafters. “We can figure this out tomorrow.”

  “If I didn’t see irrational behavior every day at work, I wouldn’t be able to handle this. It just doesn’t make sense—he took out his aggression on a house. I just can’t even begin to imagine how furious he must have been.” Holding tears back was getting harder to do.

  “He snapped.” Julia put a hand on her hip and waved the other to the house. “Much better he went crazy on that than on you.”

  “Good point.”

  Gabby came out of the house wearing a frown. “We just got a call from Chris, Neil’s sister. She’s really concerned about him—was kind of hoping he’d be here. Apparently he was supposed to pick Allen up from camp today but never showed. Chris said he’s never done that, left the little boy hanging.”

  Neil doted on his nine-year-old nephew who had lost his father in Vietnam. He felt it was his place to step in and do what he could for the child. Leaving him at camp without a way to get home was completely out of character.

  It didn’t matter what had gone wrong between them, Neil was part of Chloe’s life. She stood, looked at the others and said, “Something’s happened. I’ve got to find him.”

  Chapter 35

  Reva, Julia, and Ted stayed home. There was a possibility Neil might return, and if he did someone should be at the house. Whether the plan was to protect the house or help Neil, no one was sure but it was a logical arrangement. She didn’t want her uncle alone, not when there had already been so much destruction to his property. Besides, a house was one thing. Who could tell what an out-of-control man might do to a sick veteran? Better not to take any chances.

  Chloe and Gabby flew through the house and off the front porch at a run.

  Gabby’s car was as polished as her fingernails were. Sunset sent shards of color dancing along the buffed white paint. The Camaro had been a gift from an old boyfriend. When they broke up, she’d kept the car. Now, she jingled the keys and sprinted to the driver’s side.

  As she backed out of the driveway, she pointed to the glove compartment. “In there.”

  Chloe looked up every driveway and down each street they passed. “What’s in there?”

  “A bag. Listen, chickie, I was making those drinks, remember? You’ve had a lot, and I don’t recall hearing anything about dinner, so just in case you get the urge to lose some of that gin, use the bag.”

  She was too frightened to be sick. “I’m fine. Where the hell can he be? He’d never forget about Adam—never.”

  “Allen.”

  “Hmm?” She rolled down the window and poked her head out a bit, trying to see down a side street. There was a truck, but it was maroon, not red.

  “Chris’s little boy—his name is Allen.”

  “I know that. Did I call him something else?”

  “You did, but it’s fine. We’re all upset. Let’s just find Neil and send him home.”

  She had an excellent imagination that was unfortunately beginning to get to work. Big time. Lobster Cove wasn’t so large that a car crash could go undetected. If he’d rolled his truck taking a curve on the ocean road, someone would have noticed. Someone would have helped him. She hoped.

  But what if he had left town? Just gotten into his shiny truck and driven off into the sunset? So many times she’d seen women walk away from their own lives, feeling no alternative was open to them. And how often had she toyed with the idea of walking away from all the problems of her life? It was a common enough notion.

  With all the rage he exhibited, she couldn’t discount the possibility he would hurt someone. Totally out of character for him, but with the damage he’d inflicted on the roof, he was fueled by anger, not reason.

  As if she read her mind, Gabby asked, “You don’t think he’d hurt anyone, do you?”

  “I was just wondering that very same thing.” She tried to snap her fingers but they were not cooperating. “But it’s not like him. He’s usually so kind and—but wait, he called me a hooker last night. That wasn’t like him, either.”

  Gabby swerved when she looked across but quickly corrected. They were on the ocean road, headed south. “Tell me he did not say that!”

  “Oh, but he did. He was furious. I disappointed him, so many times. It must be awful to be Neil right now. Awful—and I’m to blame.”

  “Keep looking for his truck.” She slowed when they passed a convenience store. A few cars, but no trucks in sight. “Listen, you’re not to blame. You’re half in the bag, but that’s my fault.”

  She did feel pretty tipsy. If Neil hadn’t gone missing, the buzz would be an enjoyable one.

  “You think?” She tried not to giggle but she was forced to admit—in her own mind, and to herself only—that the gin had gone right to her head.

  “I know. And what I also know is that sometimes things don’t work out. The whole couple bit? Sometimes it’s wonderful, all glittery dreams and stuff, but a lot of times it’s a drag. I got this boss car because my ex felt sorry for me. He fell out of love, cheated, and I got the Camaro. End of story. With you and Neil…well, it’s not so cut and dry.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Driving further from Lobster Cove was futile. He wouldn’t go away from everything he knew. Everyone he loved. The places he felt most comfortable in. It wasn’t like him. Even in the gin haze, she knew that.

  Then, it hit her.

  “Turn the car around—Gabby, turn around!” She twisted in her seat, a speedier movement than was wise, and practically screamed. “But first, pull over.”

  They were lucky there was a shoulder on the winding road at that point, so there was room to get the car off the road, and time enough for her to push the heavy door open. Most of the gin came up in one rush. To their relief, she did not get any of it on her or in the car. And as soon as she was done being sick, her head stopped spinning. Almost.

  “Feel better?”

  She wiped her mouth on the tissue Gabby offered. Her hands trembled and her head was beginning to pound, but it was preferable to the woozy sensation that had been building ever since the car had begun to move.

  “I do, actually.” She sat a moment, studied the chrome button on the dash as twilight set in around them. “I know where he is. I’d bet my last greenback on it.”

  Gabby waited until both lanes were clear before she u-turned and headed back the way they’d come. They drove for a mile or so without speaking. The silence was welcome and gave the fuzziness in Chloe’s head time to clear. She hung her arm out the window, let the breeze pull her curls out in a thick stream behind her and contemplat
ed what she was going to say when they found him.

  Not one damn thing came to mind. How was it that she had known him for practically her whole life, yet she had nothing to say to him? It made no sense…and it made complete sense.

  If they had been “right” for each other, this night would not be taking place. But it was, because they weren’t. Only now, there was someone else to consider. They weren’t the only ones with an interest in how their lives moved forward.

  She slapped a hand over her eyes.

  “You okay? Need me to pull over again?”

  The car slowed, but she waved a hand. “I’m fine. Don’t stop. We’ve got to find him and maybe talk some sense into him.” She peeked through her fingers, looking to the sky for inspiration. “I just don’t know what to say to make it right, is all. He can’t act like a jerk, not if he wants to be part of her life. I won’t allow it—he’s got to straighten up or hit the road.”

  “Which works best for you?”

  The big welcome sign came into view. One more gentle curve, and they’d turn off the main road to enter the village.

  “It’s not about what works for me anymore. Penny is the one who counts.” She swallowed, wishing she had Uncle Ted’s hard candy to erase the bitter taste on her tongue. “It’s about doing what’s best for her. And I think, if it’s at all possible, that having a father in her life is a good thing. For her. And for him.”

  They were coasting down Main Street. They passed the park, where the sailor statue stood sentry, and the shops which had closed for the night. There were no tourists vying for position near the big anchor. And, no traffic to slow them down.

  “Mind telling me where we’re going?”

  “The spot where we conceived our daughter. Quinn Beach—that’s where he is.”

  Chapter 36

  “That’s his truck.” Chloe pointed as they pulled into the parking area leading to the beach path. There were two cars near the far end, beside Neil’s truck. It hadn’t been parked so much as abandoned. Had there been others hoping to use the three spots he’d taken, it might have attracted attention. But with no one to see, it was no disturbance.

  Gabby pulled in beside the front bumper. “Who parks like that?”

  “He’s still not thinking.”

  They got out of the car and went to the truck. She opened the driver’s door, sending light spilling from overhead. The keys dangled from the ignition, so she removed them, and stuck them in her pocket. Gabby had gone to the other door, opened it, and stood peering in.

  “My God, how much did he drink?” Bottles littered the cab. Wild Turkey, nearly empty, on the floor. Crushed cans of Miller High Life spread across the seat. The sweet scent of pot hung in the air. “There’s enough booze—the bottles, anyway—for an army.”

  “I don’t know what to say. We’ve got to find him. If he drank all of this, he’s got to be sick.”

  “Or dead.”

  The thought had crossed her mind, but she’d squelched it.

  She turned away, scanning the parking area. No sign of him, not even a passed out body which was what she really expected.

  The pounding in her head ratcheted up a notch. All that gin on an empty stomach had been an error in judgment. Harmless at the time but she was paying for it now.

  She met Gabby’s wide-eyed stare. No need to ask what she was thinking; it was clear she thought the worst. “Please, help me find him.”

  “That’s why I’m here, sister. Let’s get a move on—but where do you think he’ll be? Does he take long walks on the beach road? Go down to the scrub at the far end and look for stuff, like shells and beach glass? I mean, this is a big area—where do we begin to search?”

  Gabby had a point. There was a lot of territory to cover. And, it was growing darker by the minute. Soon they’d been in pitch blackness, making a search even more impossible.

  Even with her mind clouded, her gut was spot on. “The beach.”

  They ran for the path leading over the dune. They paused when they hit the top and looked in both directions. Dusk closed in around them and made it difficult to see much.

  “I don’t see him.” Chloe peered into the gloom as her heart began to beat overtime. How were they going to find him?

  “Me, either.”

  A couple walked toward them. They had little grins on their faces. He carried his shirt and something lacy—her bra, perhaps—in his free hand.

  Chloe hated to disrupt their post-coital mood. She called, “Hey, have you seen a guy?”

  The woman giggled, leaned against her partner and said, “I sure have, sister.”

  When they came abreast of the couple Gabby pressed them. “Really, a guy? Alone? Did either of you see him?”

  A look passed between them.

  “Did you see him?” Chloe wanted to go right up in his face but knew better. “It’s a matter of life and death—please, help us.”

  The guy turned serious. “We wondered if there was something wrong with him. We were busy, you know, but he was hard to miss. Staggering, like he was stoned or something. Then, he took off his clothes.”

  “Yeah, that was something we couldn’t miss…even though we were, you know…”

  So Neil had been such a spectacle that he aroused interest even when the couple was having sex?

  “What’d he do then?” Gabby asked. Chloe was already moving in the direction the lovers had just come from. “What’d he do?”

  “Swimming.” The man followed them, so his date followed him. “Oh, shit—the cat’s in the water!”

  Chloe saw clothes strewn at the water’s edge. Something—his shirt, maybe—floated, on its way out to sea.

  Facedown, just a few yard further away, a still form. She knew it was Neil—she’d seen that body too many times not to recognize him.

  Behind her, the woman screamed. She heard the guy shout for her to take his car and call for help. She heard Gabby’s low moan, a sad sound that cut the warm air.

  And she heard the sound of her heart shatter.

  Her knees hit the sand hard. Salty water splashed around them. “Neil!”

  She grabbed him, pulling him backward with the weight of her body. All she could think to do was get his face out of the water, but he was too heavy for her to move. The other two arrived seconds after her. The guy grabbed Neil under the armpits and dragged his body out of the water.

  “Neil? Can you hear us?” Gabby took one of his hands in hers. “He’s cold!”

  They placed him on his back. Chloe dropped her head to his chest.

  “Damn it, don’t do this!” She grabbed his face in her hands, put her forehead against his. “No—this cannot happen! No!”

  “Let me roll him on his side,” the stranger said. “Maybe he’ll puke the water up—watch out—”

  He turned the still form, gave him a few hard slaps between the shoulder blades and yelled in his ear. “C’mon, man—we’re not letting you get away just yet. C’mon, puke it up!”

  She met Gabby’s gaze. There was no need for words. They’d learned the drill to keep Ted alive. Now, it was time to put theory to practice.

  Gabby elbowed the man and positioned herself on the other side of Neil.

  “I’ll do the chest compressions—you breathe for him. Chloe—can you do this?”

  Of course she could. Tilting his head back and opening the airway, she put her fingers near his nose and listened to Gabby count. Each count matched a chest compression.

  “One, two, three, four, five…” Eventually Gabby yelled, “Go!”

  She covered his mouth with hers and blew. It was not the same at all as when she’d practiced on the rubber dummy. And, it was nothing like kissing.

  A second round of chest compressions. Then, she blew into his mouth again.

  The third time, she thought she felt a response. When he didn’t revive she waited while Gabby did her part, then leaned close to breathe for him. Before she put her lips on his, he coughed.

  “Turn him�
��on his side!” The guy helped Gabby roll him, and she put her hand on his neck.

  His body gave up the sea in a torrent. Water gushed from his mouth, so she held his head for him. Then Neil gasped, great, gulping sounds. His eyes opened, and he met her gaze.

  Sirens in the distance, coming closer. These past weeks had brought enough sirens and hospital visits to last a lifetime.

  He gave her a loopy grin. “There’s my honey…”

  At least—for the moment—he wasn’t angry. She smiled back at him, avoided the effort he made to pull her down and kiss her, and waited for the ambulance. It threw circles of light as it bumped over the sand toward them.

  The man had kindly placed his shirt over Neil’s genitals. He sat back on his heels, looking as if they’d saved the world instead of one irritated drunk man.

  “Damn, that was something, wasn’t it?” The guy put an arm around Gabby’s shoulders in a quick hug. “You two saved the guy—and I got to watch the whole thing. Far out, man…”

  Gabby gave a shaky laugh. “You helped. He was so heavy, I’m not sure we could’ve gotten him this far without you.”

  She heard them, but her mind was on the man staring up at her. The grin had faded, and he looked worse for the wear. Bloodshot eyes, matted hair, remorse pulling his features into an unrecognizable blur. She had never seen this side of Neil. Somehow, she always suspected a darker mood lurked beneath the smiles and optimism, but she had no idea it was this deep.

  His voice was rough. “I really screwed up big time, didn’t I?”

  The ambulance pulled up and its doors flew open.

  Softly, just before the medical team took over, she said, “We both did.”

  Chapter 37

  After the crew put Neil on a gurney, covered him with blankets, and strapped him in place, they lifted him into the back of the ambulance. He went in and out of consciousness, unable to answer questions or speak a coherent sentence. The last thing he’d said that made sense was the comment on the beach, and Chloe wasn’t going to share that information with the medics.