The Cast Net

by Mille West

  Mills put the book down and stepped onto her porch for fresh air. The lights were on in Cooper’s living room, and she could hear the melodic sound of his piano. He was home at last; she wanted to see him. Mills went to his front door and began to knock. He continued to play the piano, and undeterred, she knocked louder until the music stopped. When he answered the door, Mills hugged him and could barely control the tears welling in her eyes.

  He raised her face with his hand and said, “I don’t want you to be unhappy. Please come into the living room.”

  He was still wearing his suit pants, his dress shirt was rolled up to the elbows, and he was sipping bourbon, which was rare for him.

  “Please have a seat on the couch. Can I get you a refreshment?”

  “No, I came to apologize to you. I’ve been upset about what happened on Monday at the East Bay Club.”

  “You don’t owe me an apology. I owe you one.”

  He took out his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the tears that had fallen down her cheeks. “I’m sorry for my behavior, and I hope you’ll forgive me. I acted like a jealous adolescent. I couldn’t stand the thought of Henri making a play for you, and I behaved like an ass.”

  “Jealous?”

  “Yes, my dear. Don’t think that I haven’t thought a lot about us. I can’t help how I feel, but our being intimate would be utterly unfair to you. We have worked well on a professional level, and I hope you will allow us to continue in that manner. Please accept my apology.”

  “Of course, I do, but why didn’t you call me during the week?”

  “There’s more that I have to tell you. While I was in New Jersey, one of the contributors to the Heath Foundation, Thomas Benet, with Wescote, the pulpwood company, called our office to speak with me. Since I was unavailable, he spoke with Ian, and he explained that he gives a courtesy call to the employers of an individual that he wants to interview unless there’s some compelling reason not to. He wants you to fly to Nashville and interview for the director’s position for their public relations department. He said you’d be perfect for the job.”

  Cooper took a drink of his bourbon, and then continued, “I was too embarrassed to discuss this on the telephone so I planned to visit you tomorrow.”

  “I’ve been so worried.”

  “I have no desire to hurt you. If you only knew.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He raised her chin up and smiled at her. “I think both of us have had a difficult week. I have a commitment in Charleston in the morning, but I was thinking you might join me for a boat trip to see the Camp property I just closed on. We’ll leave before noon tomorrow.”

  “Yes, I’d like to go. Cooper, I’m sorry about the men who were involved in the accident.”

  “It’s been hard.” He stood and pulled her up from the couch. “I’ll have a picnic basket for us. Please let me walk you to your cottage. We could both use a good night’s sleep.”

  He escorted her back to her home, and when they reached the bottom of the steps, she asked, “You’ve thought about us being intimate?”

  “Yes, Mills, I have.” He raised an eyebrow in a question and she changed the subject.

  “The job interview with Wescote—what do you want me to do?”

  “My uncle says you’re priceless. He’s already received several positive responses from your brochure, and it’s just been a few days since you mailed them.”

  “You didn’t answer my question. Are you running for public office?”

  He smiled at her joke and then stepped very close to her. “I don’t want you to go. I’m proud of your work for the foundation, and I want you to stay with me.”

  As she undressed in her darkened bedroom, Mills could faintly hear the sound of Cooper’s piano. She raised the window and listened to “Cast Your Fate to the Wind.” When he finished playing the song, the lights went out in his living room and the only noises she could hear were the melodies of the wind chimes and the night sounds of the crickets.

  CHAPTER 23

  The Cast Net

  A s the Miss Elise entered Charleston Harbor, Cooper pointed out Morris Island and Fort Sumter. Mills had read in Ellen Camp’s journal about the horrendous fighting that had occurred on the island in defense of Charleston during the Civil War. The Confederate defenders had been forced to abandon their fortifications because of a lack of potable water. She had been shocked to read that the decomposing bodies of soldiers in mass graves had contaminated the water supply.

  They passed Fort Sumter and the ruins of an old fort named Castle Pinckney. The container cranes from the Columbus Street Terminal towered above the waterfront, and Cooper pointed out an enormous freight ship making its way out of the harbor.

  Once on the Ashley River, Mills marveled at the waterside view of Middleton Place where the impressive grass terraces rose from the river to the hilltop home. Entering a section of the river that was pristine, Cooper pointed out survey tape that marked the boundaries of the Camp plantation. “I told the surveyors to open up a pathway from the river to the interior of the property.” As they rounded a bend in the river, the cleared area came into view and Cooper maneuvered the Miss Elise to the bank. He handed insect repellent to Mills and told her to be liberal with its application.

  Together they set off to explore the property on the pathway. Cooper pointed to his left and said, “The Camp mansion was in this direction.”

  They walked through an area of heavy forest and the air became cooler under the trees.

  “This is beautiful. How old do you think these live oak trees are?”

  “Maybe 150 years old.”

  “They’re huge. Don’t you think they could be older?”

  “I don’t think there’s a first growth forest around here. Centuries ago, most of the original trees were harvested for ship building.”

  As they made their way through the forest, Mills ran into a spiderweb, coating her hair and clothes. Cooper brushed the former inhabitant of the web off of her shoulder.

  “The spider was on me?”

  “Yes, but they’re harmless to humans. When I was a boy, some of the locals around Edisto used to say that if a writing spider wrote your name in its web, an unfortunate fate awaited you.”

  “But that’s just an old wives’ tale.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said with a smile.

  At one point, the forest became so dense that the sun was obscured and the ground was covered in a thick field of ferns. Two columns appeared in the near distance and a brick wall ran in either direction away from the structures. “This should be the riverside entry to where the house was situated.”

  As they passed the columns, the crumbling walls of an ancient home foundation were apparent within the forest growth. A large oak tree grew in the center of the foundation wall and Cooper said, “This is what’s left of Crescent Hall.”

  “What happened to the house?”

  “It burned down in 1917, destroying many pieces of George Camp’s creations—I’d like to show you something.”

  They emerged onto a lane that suffered from neglect but was still navigable. A short
distance away were a dozen small cabins surrounded by thick brush. “I think before we venture any closer to the cabins, I’ll have a crew clear out the growth around them.”

  At the end of the lane was a large wrought-iron fence with ornately designed gates, which displayed crescents in the metalwork. The grounds around the fence were well manicured—ancient roses and camellias grew within the enclosure. Mills realized that a cemetery was inside. There was a pristine view of the Ashley River from this knoll of graves, and wilderness surrounded the enclave in a setting of peace.

  “This is a Camp family cemetery. There was an easement to the graveyard, so, over the years, the grounds have never suffered from neglect.”

  “Cooper—the wrought-iron gates are magnificent, and look at the crescent designs.”

  “The crescent denotes peace, prosperity, and order; it has been a South Carolinian symbol for many years.”

  The gate squeaked as they entered the cemetery, and Mills noticed some of the markers dated to the eighteenth century. On the marker of Ellen and Michael Camp were the Latin words “Nex Mos Singulus Nos Pro Tantum A Brevis Dum.”

  “Can you read Latin?”

  He studied the inscription before saying, “It reads, ‘Death will separate us for only a short while.’”

  The words gave her chills, and he said, “Grey and George moved Michael’s body home from the widow’s property in Virginia a few years after the Civil War. Ellen said she could not rest unless she spent eternity beside her beloved.”

  A large marker caught her attention and as she walked closer, the epitaph was arresting. There was an engraving of a man throwing a cast net and the words “Cast Out thy Net to All Men.”

  George and Grey Camp were buried side by side, and Mills began to read aloud the eroded inscription, “Family, Brothers, and the B—”

  “—and the Best of Friends,” Cooper finished. “All the talent in those two graves.”

  An iron cross designated the resting place of a Confederate veteran and graced the grave of Grey Camp, but not that of his cousin, George.

  “What does the cross signify?”

  “It’s a replica of the Southern Cross of Honor Medals that can only be placed on the graves of Confederate veterans who served honorably. George was not officially a Confederate soldier, although he served with the Army—I think out of loyalty to Grey.”

  “What led them back to Charleston?”

  “Both George and Grey married after the war. Grey remained in Virginia for a number of years until after his mother-in-law passed away. While George lived in Virginia, he sold his woodwork at a local mercantile for extra income. A businessman from Philadelphia noticed his craft and persuaded him to relocate and work full-time as a cabinetmaker.

  “Grey and George decided at some point that they would be interred side by side and with George’s successful business, he had the means to secure this marker. George and his wife didn’t have any children who survived to adulthood, and some of their fortune was left to care for indigent youths of Philadelphia and Charleston.”

  Mills nodded, listening.

  “By the time Grey passed away, our family had diminished wealth and our properties were sold to outsiders for subsistence.”

  Mills read the epitaph again, “‘Cast Out Thy Net to All Men.’ That’s what the elder Mr. Camp told me one afternoon while we were restoring the Freedom School House.”

  “He said those words to my brother and me while he taught us to throw a cast net. It was good advice.”

  “But he changed the last word in the epitaph from ‘men’ to ‘people.’”

  On their way back to the Miss Elise, Cooper pointed out a brick structure off the pathway. “That’s one of several wells on this property, and a good reason to be careful when we walk this land. They should be secure. I’ll probably wait until after the first frost to have them inspected.”

  After they picnicked on the boat, Cooper told Mills he was going to shorten up the return trip by using the Intracoastal Waterway. They encountered several rain showers on the way home and the waterways were busy with weekend boat traffic. Mills was at the helm of the craft, and Cooper sat by her side. As they neared home, the sky was becoming dark in the west, and above the sound of the engines, thunder began to rumble.

  By the time they reached his dock, strong winds whipped around them and the sky opened up with a deluge of rain. They secured his boat on the lift and then ran up the lane to his house. Drenched by rain, they removed their topsiders before entering the darkened house. Mills felt chilled, and she crossed her arms in front of her when she realized her body was reacting to the cold. Cooper turned on the light switch, but the electricity was off.

  He retrieved a towel for her and said, “There’s a pair of shorts and a T-shirt in the bathroom for you. I think you should get out of the wet clothes.”

  A hurricane lamp illuminated the bathroom, and Mills changed her clothes, hanging the wet garments to dry. She ran her fingers through her hair, and when she came out, there were hurricane lamps lighting the hallway and kitchen. Cooper had changed into dry clothes and was mopping up water puddles off the floor when she entered the room.

  “Would you like a glass of wine?”

  “I’d love one.”

  “Come with me to the cellar, and we’ll pick out a bottle.”

  She held the hurricane light, and they descended the steps into the cellar. Cooper read several labels before making a choice. They were standing against one another, and Mills could feel the warmth of his body against hers. Looking into her eyes, he slowly said, “I think this will make a good accompaniment to the cuisine.” They continued to look at each other until Cooper broke the silence, “Come on, let’s go upstairs and make dinner.”

  They cut up vegetables from the garden, and Cooper removed a large frying pan from the rack above the island. He heated olive oil and sautéed the vegetables with some marinated venison before they sat down to dine.

  “Have you forgiven my behavior on Monday?”

  “Of course. Thank you for showing me the old Camp farm this afternoon.”

  “I enjoyed seeing it again myself.”

  “Do you know how to Shag?”

  He laughed and said, “You mean the dance?”

  “Yes, of course I mean the dance—while I was downtown this week, I saw that a Shag contest would be held tonight at Rembrandt’s on Society.”

  “I don’t think we’ll go to Rembrandt’s, but what if I show you the dance steps on the porch after dinner. I’m surprised that you, a Virginia girl, never learned to Shag.”

  When they finished dining, Cooper went into his hunting room, and Mills could hear him sorting through cassettes. He returned with a radio/cassette player and two tapes. “A true Shag enthusiast might argue that some of these songs aren’t Shag music, but I think we can still dance to them.”

  He led her outside and placed a hurricane lamp on the screened porch.

  The sun had set, and there was a light rain falling; the air was cool and damp. Cooper took her by the hands and showed her the dance steps while humming a song. Occasionally, he interjected a few lyrics from the Cornelius
Brothers and Sister Rose song, “Too Late to Turn Back Now.” I wish I could read his thoughts.

  They moved together through the steps until Cooper asked, “Are you ready to try?”

  She nodded, and he started the cassette player. The first song was by the Spiral Starecase, “More Today than Yesterday.” They both sang along to the music. Has he chosen these songs on purpose?

  Cooper was a smooth, athletic dancer, and Mills attempted to follow his lead but fumbled the maneuvers. He held her hands tightly, and despite her missteps, she had tremendous fun. One song played after another, and they all had one characteristic in common—they made her feel good.

  When the tape finished, they were still in each other’s arms swaying in the candlelight. He pulled her close to him, his fingers gently caressing her arms. She was mesmerized by his touch and he said, “I have a song I’d like to play for you. When I heard it for the first time, I was in a taxi in New Jersey. I could not stop thinking of you all week, and this song reminded me even more of you. I went to Manhattan to purchase it—it’s a new release from Van Morrison from the album, Avalon Sunsets.”

  He spoke softly to her. “In the legend of King Arthur, Avalon was an island called the Island of Apples or the Fortunate Isle, because the fields needed no plows for cultivation; nature provided an abundance of grains and fruit. Avalon was a magical place—paradise.”

  He turned on the music and danced with her, holding her tightly in his arms. The song began with an instrumental overture and then the vocals started.

  “What’s the name of the song?” Mills softly asked.

  “Have I Told You Lately,” Cooper whispered in her ear. She felt flushed. He loves me?

  The song continued to play, and as Cooper held her closely, she felt his first kiss on her throat. Captivated, she found herself breathless as his arm that was behind her was now inside her shirt, gently caressing her back. When the song finished, he turned off the cassette player and kissed her passionately on the mouth. Her entire existence was on fire.