“Let’s get all our camping gear in the boat first, along with the tools for building,” Marion advised as Barbara and the children followed her directions. Barbara finally instructed Marion to stay in the boat, and she handed down the heavy tools one at a time as her partner stored them. They used the damaged cushions to keep the tools from scratching the boat. As they unloaded the trailer, people began to wander down near the pier to watch them, some of the men in threadbare clothing and the women in thick, black woolen dresses with matching black socks.
“Them the city gals?” one old-timer said to another, a wisp of smoke rising from the pipe he was smoking.
“Well, gollee, look at that,” someone interrupted to exclaim over the two women wearing dungarees.
The children began a system, and they walked up and down the dock handing things to Marion until she put up her hands and called, “No more!” The boat had filled amazingly fast, and the trailer was only a quarter emptied. They hadn’t even touched the back of the truck yet. Still, they had their camping gear and a few foodstuffs stored on the boat already.
“This is going to take many trips,” Barbara lamented as she started to lock up the trailer, wondering if she should move the stuff from the back of the truck. She glanced at the gathered crowd, who were watching the women’s every move avidly and turned away, wondering if their stuff would be safe. Still, it hadn’t suffered overnight in the truck and it was tarped from the elements, so no one had touched it.
“Hello,” a friendly voice called as a tall, slender man walked up.
“Hello, Mr. O’Flaherty,” Richard said politely and turned to his mother. “This is Mr. O’Flaherty that we were telling you about?”
“Talking about me, eh?” the man said congenially. “Hello, I’m Thomas O’Flaherty. I believe I met your...sister earlier?”
“Um, no. That is my partner, Marion, and her children.” She nodded to where Brenda and Brian were coming up. This is my son, Richard,” she said, knowing she was reintroducing him to the man but sometimes repetition was necessary.
“Getting loaded up?” he asked congenially as he watched the blonde getting out of the deeply seated boat, his expert eye taking it in. It might be a little overloaded.
“Oh, hello, Mr. O’Flaherty,” Marion said as she came up the dock. She glanced at the gathered crowd and then turned her back to survey their boat.
“I see you are loaded...perhaps overloaded?” he hinted, expressing his concern, but the boat seemed lighter suddenly, not nearly so deep in the water.
“No, we were careful. We’ll have to make several trips, but we’ll get it done,” she answered in a jaunty voice. “I see you met my partner, Barbara?”
“Well, not formally.”
“I’m Barbara Jenkins,” she said, holding her hand out to be shaken, much like a man would. The startled fisherman, not used to shaking a woman’s hand, took it and was surprised by the woman’s firm grip.
Barbara thought of squeezing the unsuspecting man’s hand but then thought that would be unfair. She could see his eyes lit up at the sight of Marion, but that wasn’t a new thing for them. It wasn’t Marion’s fault, and Barbara was confident in her love for the woman, so she knew she had nothing to worry about.
“So, you are planning on taking several trips?” he asked slowly as he released the bigger woman’s hand. He looked between the two, wondering at their friendship and why they would buy a deserted island in the middle of nowhere.
“Yes, but we knew coming out here that it would take some time to get set,” Marion told him, speaking for them both.
“We could take it all out in one load,” he said, pointing back at his fishing boat. “We’ll be going out tonight fishing anyway, and we could swing by Whimsical Island for you.”
“We wouldn’t want to put you and your brothers to any trouble,” Barbara put in.
“It’s really no trouble. It’s neighborly, and I told your...um...er...friend,” he said, nodding towards Marion, “we would help if we could.”
“If you are sure it wouldn’t be any trouble?” Marion put in, sounding a tiny bit flirty and Barbara turned to her, surprised.
“No, not at all. We’re just laying around on the boat waiting for the tide to turn. It wouldn’t take us long to bring her alongside your dock and you could hand things up to us,” he said, suddenly enthused to help them.
“Oh, that would be lovely, and it would save us so much work,” she answered with a smile, her dimples showing.
“I’ll go tell me brothers,” he said, pointing back at the boat with his thumb as he began to hurriedly back away, eager to please her. He left through the crowd that parted, a few voices calling out to ask him what he was doing. If he answered, the women couldn’t hear it.
“Why did you do that?” Barbara hissed, trying not to sound angry in front of the children or the onlookers, who were listening avidly.
“If he wants to help and we can take it all in one trip instead of making several unnecessary trips, what is wrong with that?”
“You know–” she began and then stopped herself as she turned to unlock the trailer. “Let’s get what we can on the dock while they bring their boat around,” she suggested to the children as they all reached for boxes. After her first trip down the dock, she untied the boat, and using the rope, she pulled the boat around to the other side of the dock. It was a little more hazardous here as the adjoining dock was almost too close. That was why she had parked on the other side originally, but she knew the fishing boat would probably have more trouble if she didn’t move their boat. By the time Thomas O’Flaherty and his brothers fired up their diesel boat and brought it over to their small dock, the women and children had quite a few of their belongings loaded on the dock.
“I see you’ve been busy,” Thomas called as he threw down a rope for Barbara to tie them to the dock. She quickly and easily tied a hitch, a knot that doubled back on itself and could easily be untied but would only be pulled tighter as the boat tugged against it. “You know knots,” he admired as he looked on, several other men with him looking on curiously. He threw her another rope, but their dock wasn’t long enough for the much larger boat and it barely tied around the post.
Thomas climbed down over the side. Two men followed him and two more stayed on board. “These are my brothers, Terence or Terry for short, Gordon, and Gerald or Gerry when Terry isn’t around,” they all seemed to laugh at this private joke before he continued with the introductions, “Allan and Michael.” Each of the men nodded and did that odd little tug on their bangs as though they had a hat on and were saluting as he introduced them. They were all tall and lean, and their skin was like well-beaten leather from the weathering it took at sea.
Barbara did the honors, introducing Marion and the children, who came up carrying a box of dishes. Thomas relieved her of the box as he passed it up to his brother on the boat. They made short work of the piles on the dock and helped empty the remainder of the trailer and then the back of the truck.
“You’re readying yourself for a siege,” Thomas teased as he handed up a flat of peas to one of his many brothers.
“Well, growing children anyway,” Marion told him with a laugh as she smiled. Thomas wasn’t the only one who noticed her dimples or cornflower-blue eyes.
“What are you and your...friend going to do out on Whimsical Island?” one of the other brothers asked. There were so many brothers, Marion couldn’t remember which one he was.
“We are hoping to build a cabin or two to rent out to people who want to get away.”
“Get away from what?” another asked, not understanding.
“People like taking vacations and roughing it a little,” Barbara told him as she came up with the last flat and handed it up. She was amazed by how much they had brought and was relieved she wouldn’t have to go over the water too often. They’d even taken a couple of things from the boat to lighten its load, realizing with the children and adults on board it might have been swamped w
ith that much weight.
“They do?” another one of the brothers sounded genuinely puzzled.
“We hope so,” Barbara told him, her heart having fallen when she realized he had obviously never heard of vacation rentals. She worried. Maybe they had miscalculated? Maybe people in Maine didn’t take vacations? Maybe she and Barbara were biting off more than they could chew?
“Well, we’ll follow you out to Whimsical Island,” Thomas told them heartily.
Marion was certain they wanted to ensure the two inexperienced women wouldn’t swamp their much smaller boat, but she had every confidence in Barbara. “Do you need to gas up?” she whispered to her girlfriend as they got the children settled in the boat, passing each of them a life preserver and showing them how to attach the straps.
“Yes,” she nodded and called across to the larger boat where a couple of the men were watching the women get sorted. “We have to gas up. Can you tell me where?”
They pointed down the way where the piers jutted out in this part of Franklin Bay. She could see a store much like the ones she had visited on the trip up. She started the motor, pleased when it started smoothly, and after untying the boat, she reversed it slowly and carefully, then drove it towards the gas pier. The brothers were waiting farther out, their large fishing vessel bobbing in the small waves of the bay, its large diesel engine humming loudly. As the wooden boat headed out from the gas station, across the small bay and swinging wide of the incoming ferry towards the first of many islands, they began to follow.
“Oh, look,” the boys said time and time again as their excitement bubbled over at this adventure. “Oh, look,” Brenda repeated, pointing out other things to show up her brother and their friend.
Marion smiled. She was enjoying the wind in her short, blonde hair, the ponytail coming loose, and she was admiring the tendrils working loose from Barbara’s firm, little bun, wanting desperately to run her fingers along them and the exposed neck.
Barbara hid her worries behind her sunglasses. They were dangerously low in the water with everything they had packed in the boat plus the weight of all the people. She was grateful now for the generous offer the men had made in using their large fishing boat. Offloading a few of the things from their smaller boat had been smart. They had known that the women were overloaded.
One by one, the islands they used as landmarks moved behind them before they headed out into what looked like the vast ocean. The children quieted as Whimsical Island came into view. “That’s it?” Richard finally asked in a small voice. He sounded a little scared.
“Yep, that’s ours,” Marion confirmed proudly. It was theirs, both of theirs. They would build their first home together here. She didn’t count their apartment as that had been temporary. They hadn’t intended to stay there indefinitely, only a few months since they hadn’t known they wouldn’t be able to get a loan together.
Barbara smiled as she drove their boat easily through the rocks to the opening and through their enclosed bay towards the pebbled beach. Someday, they would have a dock here too, just like in Franklin. Maybe a few docks? Nah, she didn’t want to do that; it would be tacky. Maybe they would have floats that bigger boats could tie up to.
Marion jumped off, and using a long rope, she tied the boat up to the nearest tree. “I’m going to sink a pilon or something here, nearer to the water, so we don’t have to use such a long rope,” Marion thought as she tied it off using the knot that Barbara had taught her in the weeks since they bought this place. “If we’re going to have a boat, we should know how to tie nautical knots, don’t you think?” Barbara had said as she took the time to go to the library for a book on knots.
By the time the fishing boat came into the cove and the men were looking curiously about, the women were already unloading their boat. Marion was handing Barbara boxes off the bow of the boat, so she didn’t have to get her boots wet as she put everything up on the beach above the water line and under the trees. The children had already jumped off the prow onto the gravelly beach and were running about helping with the smaller items.
“We didn’t think about offloading the boat,” Thomas admitted as he called from the fishing vessel. They had rowboats and would have to use them.
“You were more concerned about impressing the blonde,” Gerry teased him, lowering his voice, so the women couldn’t hear them.
“She isn’t interested,” Michael, the youngest, taunted his older brother as he untied one of the boats to lower it into the water.
By the time the men had filled their rowboats and brought their first load to shore, Marion had untied their Runabout and pushed it offshore, throwing the rope to Richard and Brian, who sat on the bow, excited to be helping. Carefully, Barbara drove their boat closer to the fishing vessel, using their extra life jackets as bumpers on the side between the two boats, so they wouldn’t crash together in the gentle waves of the cove.
Two of the brothers handed things down, hooking their legs around something solid on their boat, so they could lean way down as Barbara took packages from their outstretched arms and handed them off to the two eager, young boys. Slowly but surely, they filled the motorboat, and by the time the two rowboats returned, they were ready to set off once again for the island and a waiting Marion.
“I can’t tell you how much we appreciate your help,” Marion said as the final packages were brought onto the island. Already, they had placed a tarp over the whole pile.
“You owe us a cookout,” Thomas reminded her with a teasing smile as he and his brothers returned to the rowboat.
“I look forward to meeting your wives,” she called to the others. She had learned in the course of that afternoon that two of Thomas’ five brothers were married. Michael, the youngest was only sixteen but had left school learn to fish with his brothers. The next youngest was Allan. He wasn’t too fond of fishing, and at eighteen, he also wasn’t married.
They waved as the fishing boat made its way out of their cove and slowly turned around the island towards the deeper parts of the open sea where they would fish.
“Well, now,” Marion said, pleased with how much they had already accomplished. She was exhausted, and before she could say more, Barbara interrupted.
“Before you assign us tasks, let’s delve into that picnic basket,” she said.
The children seconded that motion, and they were soon setting out a nice picnic, the waves of the cove providing a nice backdrop against the island. The children were constantly distracted from their food as they looked around watching the gulls, the waves, and the wind whistling through the trees. Everyone was anxious to explore. They ate fast, but before they could run off, Marion insisted they take the camping supplies to the meadow where they would set up the tent and a camp.
“Aww, Mom,” Brian whined, and Brenda seconded him, grating on both women’s nerves. Richard was about to complain too, but one look at Barbara, and he shut his opened mouth.
Between them, they made repeated trips up the steep slope, and they soon had carved a recognizable trail, stomping down the long grasses leading up to the meadow that overlooked their cove. After setting up the tent, the cots, and their sleeping bags, they were all exhausted and ready for a break. Still, Marion cracked her whip until they had food on the grill and camp chairs as well as a log or two to sit on.
“Gosh, this is pretty,” Barbara said as she snuggled into her jacket. It was fleece-lined, and she was going to need it. She had found similar jackets for Brenda and Richard. Marion had more stylish jackets for herself and Brian, but they looked warm too. It was too cold to camp out this early in the spring, but they were going to do it anyway.
The night was clear and crisp, and the stars looked like they were within reach. The fire shot up sparks every now and then, and it crackled merrily, the pitch from the pine trees causing little flare-ups.
“Are you sure this is an island?” Brian asked as he ate his beans. He loved canned beans and had been thrilled when his mother bought flats of them.
Marion laughed at her son. “This is one of over forty-six hundred islands off the coast of Maine,” she informed him, figuring this was a good moment to give him an education.
“Have you counted them all?” he asked in wonderment.
“Nope, and I wonder if anyone has ever been to them all?” she asked. She hoped to find out someday, but she doubted she would find an answer.
“What makes it an island?” Brenda asked, not really understanding as she finished up her slice of bread. They would have to be careful with their supply of bread until they learned to bake their own, Marion had noted.
“It’s a body of land completely surrounded by water,” Barbara told the little girl simply. She saw that Marion had just taken a bite of her own food and couldn’t talk with her mouth full; she was very proper that way.
“What’s that way?” Brian asked, pointing north.
“Canada,” Barbara answered, taking the opportunity to explain, just as Marion had. They had both agreed to teach the children, and they had boxes of books somewhere in their supplies to help them do just that.
“A whole country?” he asked, in awe.
“Well, that way is New Brunswick,” Marion had finished her food and was now contributing. She was pointing north. She turned her hand to point northeast and said, “That way is Nova Scotia.”
“What’s that way?” Brian asked, pointing east.
“Nothing,” she admitted.
“Nothing?” Richard asked, a little scared and his voice betraying it.
“Well, if you go far enough to the east,” Barbara said to lessen the fear she could hear in his voice, “you would eventually hit England. Now, south of us is the coast of Maine.” She shuddered slightly from having traversed it alone for days, not ever wanting to repeat that experience! “If you go due west, there are other Maine islands, and the state of Maine is beyond them. Does anyone know how many states there are in the United States of America?”
An Island Between Us Page 6
