New River Breeze

by Ed Robinson

  “Easy come, easy go.”

  “What are you up to these days?” she asked.

  “Brace yourself,” I said. “Settled down with a wonderful woman. Living on land.”

  “No way in hell,” she said. “Not Breeze.”

  “We have a log cabin in the mountains now,” I said.

  “With Brody?” she asked. “Where?”

  “Blue Ridge Mountains in North Carolina.”

  “Holy crap,” she said. “That’s a long way from a boat in Florida. I would have never thought it.”

  “It’s a good life,” I said. “We started our own investigative business.”

  “Good for you if that’s what you want,” she said. “As long as you’re happy.”

  “I am,” I said. “We are. Right now, I’m worried about you.”

  “I hit some hard times before this happened,” she said. “Now it’s going to be doubly hard.”

  “I noticed you had no food onboard,” I said. “How bad is it?”

  “I’m catching fish mostly,” she said. “I’ve got an emergency fund, but this nonsense will likely deplete it.”

  “Once you’re back to work, will you make enough to get by?”

  “More than enough,” she said. “But things will be tight until I start getting paid again.”

  “It will work out,” I said. “Shit always works out.”

  “Shit works out,” she said. “The best advice you’ve ever given me. I tell myself that all the time.”

  “Eat your dinner,” I said. “I want to get back before dark.”

  “Good idea,” she said. “Thanks for this. Thanks for everything.”

  “You’re going to be just fine.”

  I got another cab ride back to the harbor, but before taking off, I stopped in the small grocery that serviced the charter customers. I got a six-pack of beer and a pound of shrimp for dinner. Eggs and bacon were purchased for breakfast. Lunch meat and bread along with a few condiments went in the basket for lunches. The only thing missing was liquor. I wasn’t sure where to buy booze. I couldn’t leave my supplies in the dinghy unguarded either. On my way down the dock, I kept an eye out for partiers. When I found a group drinking mixed drinks, I asked to buy a bottle of whatever they had.

  “This is the good stuff, man,” someone told me. “Can’t part with any of it, but I’ve got a bottle of cheap rum you can have.”

  I held out a twenty.

  “Will this cover it?” I asked.

  “Twice what it’s worth but I’ll take it anyway,” he said.

  “I don’t have a problem with that,” I said. “Where did you get your booze?”

  “You have to take a taxi,” he said. “Adds twenty dollars to your bill.”

  “Every cab ride is twenty bucks down here,” I said. “Doesn’t matter where.”

  I got my bottle of booze and started the boat ride back to Nanny Cay. I should have given myself more time to look for lights for the little boat, but if I hurried, I wouldn’t need them. I topped off the gas tank from Holly’s can and fired up the motor. It started easily and idled smoothly. It was a good buy and would service Holly well. Once clear of the docks I hauled ass out of there and kept the throttle on full until I got back to Another Adventure. I tied off and unloaded my goodies. My second night down here would be much better than the first.

  I popped open a beer and put the rest in the fridge, along with the shrimp. I sat on deck and watched as other cruisers returned from their day on the island. The guys who had tried to run me off went by, and I gave them a wave. From where the boat was anchored, the sunset occurred over land. I sat and watched it go down before attempting to start dinner. It reminded me of the old days when I watched the sunset every night. We didn’t have a view of it from our cabin. I missed that.

  The one and only seasoning to use for steamed shrimp is Old Bay. Holly did not stock it. I dug and dug until I found some kind of Cajun seafood seasoning. It would have to do. She did not have a proper steamer either, so I had to boil the shrimp with the Cajun stuff. The end result wasn’t bad. I ate my fill along with a little bread. I cleaned up my mess and put everything back where I’d found it.

  I carried the cheap rum back out on deck. I didn’t find any shot glasses, so I drank right out of the bottle. It tasted awful and burned on the way down, but that didn’t deter me much. My mind worked a mile a minute, and I needed to slow it down if I was ever going to sleep. I was in a position to fully see just how important Brody was to me. After thousands of nights alone on a boat, being with her every night was more than a welcome change. Any romantic feelings that I’d had for Holly were well in the past. I was still her friend, here to render aid and assistance, but there was zero chance of future involvement. Those simple truths were very clear to me that night under the stars, anchored in the British Virgin Islands. I managed to choke down enough of the rotgut rum to fall asleep and stay under until dawn.

  The next day was spent loading up with groceries to fill Holly’s larder. I managed to also acquire some navigation lights for the dinghy and refill her five-gallon gas can as well as the dinghy’s tank. I’d bought enough food to last her several weeks, but no fresh vegetables or fruit. I didn’t eat that stuff, and I didn’t want it to spoil waiting for her to get out of the hospital. I went to visit her during the evening hours, now that I had lights. I brought a good old fashioned cheeseburger for her. It wasn’t hot, but she devoured it in short order.

  “They’re going to test my lung capacity tomorrow,” she said. “If I pass, I can be set free.”

  “Any idea what all this is going to cost?”

  “None,” she said. “I won’t be able to come back here and get hurt.”

  “I’ll help you get the boat back to St. Thomas,” I said. “I can catch a flight from there. It will save me the puddle jumper ride from here.”

  “You’re the best, Breeze,” she said. “You didn’t have to do any of this.”

  “I wanted to,” I said. “But this will be the end of it. I’m going back to Brody with a new appreciation.”

  “How so?”

  “Sitting out there on your boat,” I said. “I still get it, but I can live without it now. It’s not home for me anymore.”

  “I won’t ever leave the water,” she said. “Land sucks.”

  “I thought the same for a long time,” I said. “Never say never.”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “If that one special guy came along, maybe I could think about it, but not anytime soon.”

  “You’ll know they’re special when all you want to do is make them happy,” I said. “I didn’t have to move to land. I could have stayed out here forever, and Brody would have come along with me, but her happiness became more important than mine.”

  “I’ve never experienced that,” she said.

  “Stay open to the possibility,” I said. “Grab it when it comes along.”

  “I’ve been a hard-headed fool more than once,” she admitted. “And so have you.”

  “I can still be a dumbass,” I said. “I just try to keep it to a minimum.”

  “You sound like a wise older sage,” she said. “But maybe that’s what you’ve always been to me.”

  “I will always cherish when our lives were intertwined,” I said. “It was a good time for both of us.”

  “But we’ve both moved on,” she said. “For real this time.”

  I went to her bed and leaned in to give her a gentle hug. She kissed my neck before pushing me away. She held her hand out between us before zipping her lip with it.

  “No more talk,” she said.

  “I’m going to talk with the staff before I go,” I said. “Get the scoop on your outlook. I’ll be back tomorrow. Anything you need?”

  “Find me a clean pair of shorts and a shirt of some kind,” she said. “The stuff I was wearing when they brought me in is pretty trashed.”

  “Will do,” I said. “Good night, girl.”

  I was able to track down
her attending physician. After asking about her condition and prognosis, I inquired about the cost of her care. He couldn’t really answer me but was willing to attempt to find out. A nurse directed us to an administrator. The doc defined what had been done and what resources had been used.

  “I won’t be able to give you an exact amount,” she said. “There are too many ancillary charges to be added.”

  “You mean like the fifty dollar aspirin and the thousand dollar saline bags?”

  “I’d need a complete accounting from the rest of the staff,” she said.

  “Let me tell you something,” I said. “That girl in there has no money. I’m your only shot at collecting anything. I want to be fair, but I need you to be fair with me. She can walk out of here, and you’ll never see a dime, or you can make a deal with me right now.”

  “Give him a nice round figure,” the doctor said. “Something reasonable.”

  “If insurance were involved we’d be looking at thirty grand,” the admin lady said.

  “It’s not,” I said. “I’ll be trying to get cash tomorrow. Make it possible that I can get enough to settle this score. It’s all you’re going to get.”

  “Okay, five grand,” she said.

  “Done,” I said. “I’ll see you in the morning. And thank you.”

  “Thank you, mister?”

  “Breeze,” I said. “Mister Breeze.”

  I walked out of there humming a Lynyrd Skynyrd song.

  Call me the Breeze

  I keep blowin’ down the road

  Well now, they call me the Breeze

  I keep blowin’ down the road.

  Seven

  I still had half a bottle of rum left, but it really did taste like shit, so I got a ride to a real liquor store and got some of the good stuff. The whiskey selection in the BVI is poor, but they do have plenty of fine rums available. My chore list was finished, as far as I was concerned. All I was waiting for was Holly’s release. I guessed that my final offer to pay her bill would hasten their decision to let her out of the hospital. They knew they couldn’t milk her for any more money.

  I spent the evening out on deck with my bottle and my thoughts. I would see this mission through, but I couldn’t wait to get home. This trip had reaffirmed my commitment not only to Brody but to life on land. It was nice that I was in a position to come to Holly’s rescue, but this would clearly be the final time. She was my last connection to life at sea. Even though I didn’t think of her often, I knew she was out there somewhere, still living the life I had once enjoyed.

  The first thing I planned to do once we reached St. Thomas was to call Brody and check in. The second would be to arrange a flight home. I wanted to sit on the porch and listen to the creek sing its mountain song. I wanted to throw a Frisbee for Red to fetch. Mostly, I wanted to see that sparkle in Brody’s eyes and know that she loved me as much as I loved her. The rum made these urges worse but eventually made me sleepy enough to push it all out of my mind. I stumbled below and went to bed. The pillow smelled like Holly.

  I dreamt of the Moon-eyed People. They were carrying rocks up the hill alongside the New River. I could walk among them without being noticed. They stacked the rocks one by one on the wall they were building on top of the rise. I couldn’t tell what the purpose of this exercise was. They placed their rock and returned to the river to gather another one. They didn’t speak to each other or to me. The moon was up, and these creatures shined like glow sticks as they moved back and forth. They were so blindingly white that I couldn’t make out their features, other than the oversized eyes. Then it was morning, and I was awake. The rising sun blinded me as it peeked in a port light. I should have slept wearing sunglasses.

  I shook off the dream and got up to face the day. There was no coffee. I could have bought some, but I didn’t find a coffee maker on the boat. I drank water while I prepared my breakfast. I had some juice with my bacon and eggs. I wanted toast but couldn’t find a toaster either. Holly obviously lived like a barbarian, with no booze and no coffee or toast. Booze and coffee were the building blocks of life. They weren’t luxuries; they were necessities.

  I cleaned up after my meal, and then I cleaned myself up. I managed a cold water shave and a GI shower with a washcloth and a sink. I put on clean clothes and even slapped on a little aftershave. It would cover any body odor that I’d missed with the rag. I threw a hat on over my still dirty hair and looked in the mirror. Some old dude looked back at me. He had the wrinkles that a mariner gets after years on the ocean. He was somewhat leathery after his time in the Florida sun. He’d gone mostly gray, but if you asked him, he’d tell you his hair was blonde. At least he still had his hair. I wished the stranger in the mirror a good day.

  As I climbed down into the dinghy, I noticed that my joints were less achy down here in the Caribbean warmth. My knees didn’t moan, and my back wasn’t complaining either. I wondered if the mountain altitude made arthritis worse, or if it had just been the cold. It was clear, though, that here at sea level in warm temperatures my body felt better, younger even. Enjoy it while you can, Breeze.

  So, I was chipper and feeling sporty as I drove the little dink back to the harbor so I could hopefully break Holly out of hospital jail. The wind was in my hair, and there was the smell of salt in the air. It felt good to buzz along at speed and take it all in. I had a little extra pep in my step when I got to the hospital. The staff greeted me warmly. Everyone was friendly, except Holly. Even though she’d been given her release, she was in a foul mood. She had suddenly realized that her diminished condition was going to be a severe handicap on a boat. She blamed fate, the Gods, the man who ran her over, and anyone else she could think of. She responded to inspirational platitudes with a big fuck you. She was mad at the Universe.

  I had the misfortune of being the one person that she knew at this point in time. I was there to help, but she wasn't grateful at all. I didn’t want to screw up her release, so I let it roll off my back until we were out of that place and on our way to the dinghy.

  “You might want to check that attitude,” I said. “It doesn’t become you.”

  “Fucking landlubber,” she said.

  “Whoa, girl,” I said. “Check back with me in about ten years when you have as much experience as I have. I’m way out of my way helping you down here. Show a little respect.”

  “Everybody is telling me it’s going to be okay,” she said. “My life is good and screwed, but hey, it’s all good. I’m a badass, and I can handle it. I’m the strongest woman they’ve ever known. Blah, blah, blah.”

  “Are those things not true?”

  “I’m hurt bad, Breeze,” she said. “I’m weak and broke and soon to be starving. Can I just wallow in my misery for a bit? Is that too much to ask?”

  “This is the life you chose,” I said. “One with no security and no health insurance. You’ve had a real setback, but something tells me you’ll recover.”

  “How would you know?” she said, practically spitting at me. “I’m still out here while you live amongst the dirt people. How am I going to recover, exactly?”

  My good mood had been shattered by her pity party. I didn’t want to make her any madder, but I did want her to appreciate what I’d done for her.

  “Listen up, little miss bitchy pants,” I said. “I paid your hospital bill. You’re free and clear of that debt. I also loaded your boat with a ton of food. I’m about to help you get back to St. Thomas. My airfare was ridiculously expensive, as will my return airfare be. I’m going to be out about ten grand when this is over. What will you be out? A few weeks of pay from missing work? I’ll give you that too if it makes you shut the hell up. Meanwhile, you don’t owe me a damn thing. That’s how much you mean to me, but if you keep this whining up, then we’re done. I’ll find my own way to St. Thomas. You can figure out how to solo sail your boat with broken ribs and a punctured lung. You up for that?”

  “I can’t do it,” she said. “I won’t be able to do it for a wh
ile, but I need to get back there.”

  “I’ll help,” I said. “If you shut up and realize that you’re lucky to be alive.”

  She didn’t respond to that. She didn’t say a word all the way back to her boat. When we got there, getting her up on deck was a chore. She couldn’t climb with her arms, and any attempt to help her caused pain. A sailboat was not the place for her to be in her condition. She sat and stared at her feet. I noticed some blood on the front of her shirt. It was coming from where the chest tube had been.

  “First aid stuff?” I asked.

  “In the head cabinet.”

  I got peroxide, alcohol wipes, and anti-bacterial cream out of the kit. She was lying down when I returned. I lifted her shirt to examine the wound. She reflexively tried to pull it back down.

  “Not the first time I’ve seen your boobs,” I said. “Chill out. Let me clean this and put a new bandage on it.”

  The hole was oozing some nasty looking goop, which I wiped off with the alcohol swabs. I poured peroxide over it several times, cleaning it each time. When the fizzing lessened enough, I put the cream over it and taped a new bandage on the area.

  “How’s your breathing?” I asked. “Are you getting enough air?”

  “As long as I’m not moving,” she said. “Getting onboard about killed me.”

  “Keep that in mind,” I said. “When you get anxious to do too much.”

  “I am so fucked.”

  “What’s your situation over there?” I asked.

  “I’ve been working for a charter company,” she said. “I do the shit jobs that no one else wants to do. I climb, I dive, I fit my bendy ass in tight engine compartments. I can’t do any of that.”

  “You’ll be back at it soon enough,” I said. “But in the meantime, can those people help you?”

  “I just don’t know, man,” she said. “They’re friendly enough, but when it comes right down to it, we’re not really friends.”

  “Maybe somebody there is,” I said. “Someone will step up.”

  “Remains to be seen,” she said. “They might let me lay there and die for all I know.”

  I was getting fed up with her negativity. It wouldn’t help matters as she recovered. I wanted to give her a good slap and tell her off, but I doubted that was what she needed at that moment. Still, I had to be firm. I couldn’t be there to hold her hand much longer.