Just Past Oysterville: Shoalwater Book One

by Perry P. Perkins

  No one?

  “I will take it away, Jack.”

  He felt the voice in his soul, so familiar and so close, a voice that he had silenced so long ago.

  The voice of Christ spoke to him as He once had, and faintly Jack could hear the sound of voices raised in worship. He felt the touch of a holy hand on his head as he felt and remembered the hardwood floor beneath his knees, and smells the oil and pulp, of pews and Bibles.

  A thousand memories raced through his mind, each perfectly clear and laced with longing.

  Jack opened the heavy door and took his first tentative step in twenty years, back towards light, towards home.

  When Cassie at last stepped away, Jack was exhausted. Drained, and wrung out, he collapsed back into the lumpy pillows, breathing heavily. But there was a light in his face, sparkling from his eyes, a glow of rediscovered hope.

  Cassie smiled and closed the Bible that had been lying open on the seat behind her, she recognized that light, hadn’t it just begun to shine from her again, as well?

  “Well,” Cassie said, after a moment, “that was a good start.”

  Jack emitted a sound that was half laugh and half groan.

  “It was a start," he admitted, "but it’s going to be a long, hard road.”

  Cassie smiled, and murmured, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart…”

  He looked up at her, his eyes red from weeping, his face pale from the trauma of the last day and the emotional exertions of the morning.

  Cassie lifted the worn leather Bible from her lap and rested it on the edge of the bed. Jack looked at it and squeezed his eyes shut, his lips forming a painfully white line, as he reached for the book.

  “That’s good advice, you know,” Cassie said, “someone very special gave that advice to my mom a long time ago, and she gave it to me more times than I can remember.”

  As Jack picked up the battered Bible, a small scrap of paper slipped from it to fall, face down, onto his chest; it was an old photograph, its scalloped edges faded and worn. Jack turned it over and sighed, seeing the young woman with long dark hair, standing in the river, the small, pink wrapped bundle in her arms.

  “It’s funny,” Cassie said, “how the Lord works. He knew what was waiting for me here, and the whole time I thought it was just that I needed to confront my father, to tell him off." She grimaced. "All because of that silly marriage certificate.”

  “Marriage certificate?” Jack asked, shaking his head.

  Cassie reached over and pulled the folded page from the back of the Bible, opening it and handing the much-worn paper to Jack.

  “Yup,” Jack said, “that’s a marriage certificate, what’s the question?”

  “The question,” Cassie replied, giving him a dirty look, “is that Bill wrote his place of birth as just past Oysterville, but there isn’tanything past Oysterville; I looked. It’s at the end of the peninsula, so what the heck did he mean?”

  Jack had begun to laugh before she had finished asking, deep belly laughs to rival the power of his earlier tears. He tried to speak but couldn’t, his entire frame was quaking and the heavy bed squeaked in time beneath him. His face turned crimson as tears squirted from the corners of his eyes. Cassie sat, her frown deepening, until Jack’s mirth had run its course and he lay, gasping once more, the certificate still clutched in his hand.

  “Well,” Cassie said, “I’m glad that amused you. Are you going to let me in on the joke, or what?” Jack snorted one last time, wiping his eyes.

  “Sorry,” he said, “I couldn’t help myself, I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you…”

  Cassie waited, her fingers drumming the edge of the bedside table.

  “It’s a family joke,” Jack said, his voice still quavering with laughter, “you see, your grandfather, John Beckman, was an oysterman, and he ran boats offshore during the harvest. Your grandmother used to go out with him and help, even after she was pregnant with Bill.”

  Cassie nodded, handing Jack a tissue to wipe his eyes.

  “So,” he went on, “one day, when your grandmother was about eight and a half months along with your dad, they were out in rough water and she went into labor.”

  Jack chuckled again as Cassie’s jaw dropped.

  “You can imagine,” Jack said, “with nothing but a handful of dirty, smelly oystermen on board, your grandma was more than a little anxious to get back to shore and to the hospital. John pretty near burned those old Iveco twin diesels up, trying to get back, but they didn’t quite make it, and your dad was born right there in the wheelhouse, in sight of land. So, quite literally, he was born—“

  “—just past Oysterville,” Cassie groaned.

  “That was one of his favorite jokes,” Jack sighed, smiling, “whenever anyone asked him his place of birth, that's what he'd tell them. I’d completely forgotten that story...”

  “Well,” Cassie said, “I guess that’s typically ironic.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I came all the way out here based on a joke.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Jack said, “more likely God used that joke to provoke you into coming here, so you would find your family.”

  Cassie nodded, then smiled.

  “Why, Jack Leland!” she said. “You almost sounded like a pastor there!”

  Jack grinned a little fearfully.

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, okay?”

  “Okay, for now," she laughed, "but I'm going to keep hounding you, you know that?"

  "Why does that not surprise me?" he groaned.

  "Oh, by the way," she poked his bare arm with one finger, "thanks for trying to ditch me in Gold Beach. What was up with that?"

  "What are you talking about?" Jack asked, sheepishly.

  "I'm talking about you trying to hard-sell me on going straight to Portland," she said, poking him again, "you knew who I was and you tried to ditch me!"

  "Ow!" Jack replied, "Go easy on the heart attack victim, okay? I had a plan in Gold Beach, thank you very much, and if you hadn't been so obstinate--"

  "Obstinate?" Cassie objected loudly.

  "Sorry," Jack replied, "stubborn, headstrong, and inflexible. Anyway, I was going to drop you off and then come back up there with Beth, so we could break it to you gently."

  "Yeah, sure. I think you were trying to ditch me."

  "I'm not saying that's a bad idea…"

  Poke.

  Jack laughed, holding the Bible out to her.

  “Why don’t you keep it, Jack,” Cassie said, “Mom would have wanted you to have it, the picture too.”

  “I can’t take your Bible, Cassie,” Jack argued, shaking his head.

  “Fine,” she smiled, “a loan then, until you can get home and get your own. No arguments!” She waggled a stern finger at Jack, who looked surprised for a moment, and then burst out laughing, once more.

  “What’s so funny?” Cassie asked.

  “Nothing!” Jack said.

  “No way,” Cassie said, “tell me…”

  “You just reminded me of someone for a minute there.”

  “Who?”

  Jack smiled, still chuckling, “The most cantankerous, stubborn old woman I’ve ever known.”

  Cassie rolled her eyes.

  “Gee, thanks Jack, that’s just what every girl wants to hear.”

  Jack laughed even harder and, despite herself, Cassie joined him.

  “Speaking of what every girl wants to hear…” Cassie took a deep breath, as she reached into her pocket and produced a small, hardbound book.

  “Here,” she said, “I brought this for you.” Jack picked up the thin tome, holding it at arms length to read the feathery inscription on the faded cover.

  “Shakespeare’s Love Sonnets, Volume One.”

  He looked curiously at Cassie, “And why in the world would I want these?”

  Cassie shook her head. “You’re hopeless,” she said, “You know that don't you?”

  Jack nodded, “I’ve conside
red that possibility, yes.”

  Cassie ignored that. “They’re love poems, you goof, remember, you were going to read her love poetry?” Jack dropped the book like it was suddenly burning his fingers. “Oh Cassie,” he said, “I don’t know—“

  Cassie scowled, “You don’t know what?”

  Jack looked at her pathetically.

  “It’s been a really long week," he said, "I don’t know if I’m up for this right now.” Cassie’s scowl deepened, and as Jack saw that he was going to get no sympathy for his condition, he switched tactics, his face darkening in a glowering scowl of his own. “Now, you listen here young lady—“

  Cassie shook her head, interrupting again.

  “Uh uh,” she said, “nice try, but I’m not buying it. You’ve been shutting her out for years, you said so yourself. Now that that’sbehind you, thiswould be a good second step in the right direction. You love my Aunt Beth, and she loves you—“

  “How do you know that?”

  Another rolling of the eyes, “Maybe I’m not doing her such a favor here…”

  “Hey!”

  Cassie continued. “Beth and Bill are down in the coffee shop,” she said, “they probably think I’ve forgotten them by now, but Beth promised not to come up here until I came and got her.” Cassie smiled her sweet smile. “So you’d better start reading because I’m going to go get her now.”

  “Now wait a minute…”

  Cassie kissed him on the cheek and walked from the room.

  Epilogue

  Summer was beginning to wane. The crowded boardwalk of Main Street was seeing fewer visitors with each passing day, though still plenty enough to keep the carousel at the midway running from dawn to dusk. Even in the tiny, enclosed office of the Sand Castle Bookstore, Cassie could still faintly catch the summer smells: hot oil, popcorn and the sweet-hot scent of fresh waffle cones.

  She smiled, her fingers flying over the ten-key machine as she tallied the month’s sales, a task that Jack had always dreaded, and had happily passed on to her. It had been a good spring and summer, on many levels, starting with Jack’s return home from the hospital.

  “He’ll live,” The doctor had replied dryly. “Keep him off the deep-fried foods and the ice-cream, and he might still be a pain in our rear in another forty years.”

  Jack and Doctor Ottman had formed a grudging acceptance of each other over the last several months, not a friendship, per-se, but at least they weren’t shouting at each other any longer. Cassie was staying with her Aunt, who had taken a small bedroom in her Bed & Breakfast out of availability, and moved Cassie into it, refusing to consider any arguments on her niece's part. This would be “home” for her on her weekends and holidays for the next four years.

  Guy and Grace had come up for one wonderful week in June and, as Cassie had suspected, they had become an almost instant addition to the Long Beach family. Guy insisted, however, that he would never allow Jack to take him deep-sea fishing again.

  “I’m a desert-boy, I guess,” he had said, still more than a little green around the edges when Jack had brought him back from their day trip. “That was my first time out on the ocean and, if it’s all the same to everyone, I think I’ll stay on dry land from now on.”

  Later, after poor Guy had been mercifully sent to bed, Jack had laughed in sympathy with the others. “I felt so awful for him,” he chuckled, “I don’t think he got an hour of fishing in the whole day, by afternoon I was waiting for the poor fella’s boots to come up!”

  Despite the less than successful angling experience, all parties had shed some tears when the Williams family had been dropped off at the Portland Airport for their flight home. Promises had been made for a trip to Bowie the following year.

  “We’ll catch us a big ‘ol bass down there,” Guy had laughed, slapping Jack on the shoulder, “and from the dock.”

  Cassie was teaching her father to read again. It was slow going, and more than one person had told her it couldn’t be done, but she persisted. Jack, however, had encouraged her.

  “Don’t listen to them, Cass,” he had told her firmly, as they were returning home from Sunday services one late spring afternoon, “and don’t believe ‘em. Love can accomplish anything; we know that, don’t we?”

  Cassie smiled, remembering his words. Love can accomplish anythingand the changes that it had worked in Jack Leland since February were miracles in themselves. Jack, she knew, was teetering on the brink of becoming an elder at Long Beach Community, a title he was considering with great trepidation.

  “You can say no,” Pastor Edelstien had told him, more than once, “the title only officiates what you’re already doing. You arean elder, Jack, to any number of the young couples. A title, or lack of one, isn’t going to change that.”

  Still, Jack struggled with the idea, but it was prayerful struggle and that, their pastor had assured them, was the best kind.

  That wasn’t the only issue on Jack’s heart, either.

  Cassie happened to know there was a small velvet box hidden deep in the top drawer of his dresser, beneath a jumble of mismatched socks. The box, of course, contained a diamond-studded band of gold, just the right size to slip onto the finger of a certain relative of hers.

  Cassie had about lost patience with Jack, and had told him, a day or two before, that steps had better be taken beforeshe left for school in September.

  “Why couldn’t you have taken summer courses?” Jack had grumbled.

  Cassie had laughed, hiding her regret that she hadn’t, in fact, been able to get her loan in time to start school in June. Still, she had enjoyed a wonderful summer, and had earned enough to attend fall classes with only a part-time job to supplement the small loan she had already been approved for. She was awakened abruptly, from her thoughts of school, as Jack and Beth came through the door and into the office.

  “Hey guys!” she said, hitting a final button on the ten-key, “looks like we had a better summer than any of us thought, unless I added when I should have subtracted!”

  Jack laughed.

  “Why do you think I have youon the books?" he said. "That’s what Ikept doing!”

  Cassie handed him the small roll of paper from the old adding machine and smiled as his eyes widened and he whistled appreciatively. “Not bad…”

  Elizabeth winked at her niece, “That’s what happens when you staff the front desk with a pretty young girl instead of a grouchy old man!” She laughed at Jack’s wounded expression and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

  “Cass,” Beth said, taking Jack’s hand in her own, “we have something we need to tell you.”

  Cassie’s gaze immediately shifted to the third finger of her Aunt's left hand, but it was still bare. She glanced at Jack in time to catch the barely perceivable shake of his head. She frowned at him as he shrugged sheepishly.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  Elizabeth took a seat on the edge of the desk, Jack standing behind her.

  He was already grinning, unable to contain himself, as his soon-to-be fiancé handed the young woman a thick manila envelope. Cassie took it suspiciously, glancing back and forth between the two of them.

  “What’s this?” she asked, slipping open the flap.

  “Well,” Jack said, “consider it an early inheritance.”

  Cassie removed the first thing that her fingers touched and it was a small, plastic checkbook. Check-register, actually, and she found that her name was written boldly on the outside. Her hands begin to shake and, without knowing why, Cassie was suddenly desperately thirsty. She opened the register and read the amount of the first and only deposit into the account that was in her name.

  She read the line again, and a third time, just to be sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her. The amount, written in blue ink in the first small box beneath the depositscolumn read One-Hundred-Forty-Three Thousand Dollars and Zero cents.

  “Guys,” she whispered, when she could breathe again, “what did you do?”

  “O
h don’t panic,” Jack laughed, “I didn’t sell the store, and Beth didn’t sell her house. That’s your inheritance, literally. It’s Bill’s half of the money that I got for selling his parent's house. The rest is what I’ve added as his weekly salary since I opened the store. He gets his social security, so that money has barely been touched. Beth invested it several years ago and, apparently, made some very good choices!”

  Cassie gazed wide-eyed at the number once more, and then looked to her aunt.

  “It’s money we put away for Bill,” she said, “Just in case something happened to us. Now that you’re here, we know that you would take care of him in that very unlikely event.”

  Cassie nodded dumbly, of course she would.

  “So,” Jack grinned, “Looks like you’ll have plenty of time to hit the books this fall, without having to worry about flipping burgers or delivering pizzas, or any of that nonsense.”

  "We called last week and canceled your loan," Beth said, "I hope that was all right?"

  “Guys…” Cassie said again, unable to find any other words.

  “Hey,” Jack said, “don’t think that it comes without strings; I expect a big fat thank you in the acknowledgments of your first book!”

  Cassie laughed a bit distractedly, her mind spinning, “You betcha,” she said, “and…and if it’s okay, I’d like to send some of it to Guy and Grace…for Mom’s headstone. I promised.”

  “Of course,” Beth smiled, putting her arms around the younger woman.

  Cassie clung to her aunt, her eyes swimming.

  “It's your money,” Jack agreed. “You can spend it however you like. I’ll tell you this though, if you don’t have a degree and the better part of a book written in four years," he shook his finger at her, growling, "I’m dragging you back here and making you work it off in this office with me!”

  “Ugh,” Cassie rolled her eyes, “anything but that! I think you just guaranteed my grade point average.”