“It was a dark and stormy night when I earned the infamous name of Butt-Eye–”
Marley giggled and across the room Sally shook her head.
“–and also the title Captain. Our crew was a mix of men from around the known, and unknown, world. We sailed a small fast ship, easy to turn. The sort made along India’s Malabar coast. And it was there, off that coast, where we stole from the ships of traders and kings, and I earned me name. We treated no flag with kindness. There’d’ve always been one among us whose mother gave birth to him under the protection of any flag. To keep order, the rule was kindness to none.
We’d wait in a port city for a likely ship and then pick any men among the crew raised in a land that spoke the same language. That man would go to the captain and tell a story of shipwreck and sons at home who needed his guidance and they’d exchange passage for work. Once aboard he’d work like hell–”
“Bud,” Sally said while Marley giggled.
“–to find out what the ship was carrying and where the most valuable cargo was stowed. You had to be a good liar, a quick thief, and comfortable in water.”
“I boarded an English ship with another Englishman. I wore, wrapped around me waist, a ladder made in a land beyond the great mountains of India. T’was long and made of thin, but very strong, rope. When I put me shirt over it, I looked nothing more than well fed.” Bud stuck out his stomach and took a few steps away from his chair and back to make his daughter laugh.
“T’was my job to secure the ladder and throw it over the side of the ship to let the rest of the pirates on deck. But, this time it turned out the other Englishman had a real reason to be home and he betrayed us all.”
“Now you see dear,” Bud leaned toward Marley and lowered his voice, “During me exploration of the ship I’d found a few small canisters of the blue dye, the likes of which be made only in India. No doubt it was intended for the greatest English households to ensure future trade. Maybe the dye would’ve colored the clothes of the The Queen herself, but I had another plan.” Bud switched to a louder voice, “Now there was a woman in a port town down the coast who was beautiful and beautifully mysterious to me-”
“I hope she was smart, too,” Sally said.
“and smart too,” Bud said, “and I wished to make a small fortune and spend every day of the rest of me life in her care. I meant to bring her the blue dye intended for a queen, and indeed in my home I planned to be king.”
Sally sighed.
“And treat her like me queen,” Bud said. “When me third night aboard the English ship fell, I unwound the ladder from me body and,” Bud began to whisper, “ghost-like I crept onto the deck. I secured the ladder and threw her over. My crew mates crept aboard and I whispered instructions to them one man at a time. I’d begun to worry about the other Englishman. He was new to the trade. I thought he must’ve been caught. Or maybe that he knew he hadn’t learned to move without being seen, without being heard, and also knew enough to stay still.
Alas. T’was neither!” Bud yelled and Marley sat up straight.
“He could’ve worked his way home, but he wanted more. He turned us in for free passage and reward. Maybe fame. Who knows what he imagined.”
“There were armed men expecting us. We were too few to fight back. We ran to jump overboard. To swim to our ship. As I was about to jump, the man from the other side of India’s great mountains burst from below deck. He was fast, but would he be fast enough?”
Bud looked into Marley’s eyes.
“I drew me weapon, but I’d had me eyes on me friend when the Englishman crept up from behind. He sliced at me. At the last possible second, I dodged his blade. The cut was shallow. We repeated the dance.” Bud fought an invisible enemy as he talked. “He lunged and stabbed at me. He twisted his sword in me flesh. I stumbled and he caught me and held me against his body. I could see his sword about to slit me throat. I struggled out of his grip, but his sword caught me face. He cut me forehead and cheek and sliced into me eye.”
“But you were all right. Right, daddy?”
“Marley, daddy’s telling a story,” Sally said.
Bud continued, “The man from the other side of the mountains had been running toward me. As he passed he threw his arm under mine and together we fell overboard. Me eye was destroyed and the stab wound was deep. What I didn’t know was that the little canisters had taken the force of the Englishman’s first two blows. They’d cracked and the blue dye soaked me clothing and ran down me skin. It ran into me wounds and stayed there and,” Bud whispered, “that’s how I healed, two curving slashes around a stab wound– a great blue eye. Deep blue the color of the ocean I sailed on.”
He dropped his voice even lower. “An eye on me right butt cheek.”
Marley giggled herself into a little ball. “And tell me how they started calling you Captain, daddy.”
“I think it’s time for Captain Daddy to put a little girl into her bed,” Sally said.
“His name isn’t Captain Daddy. It’s Daddy, or Captain Butt-Eye,” Marley said.
Sally gave Bud a warning look.
“As I’ve told you before,” Bud said, “I’d lost an eye-”
“but I also gained one,” Marley growled the finish for him.
“Yes, Butt-Eye also gained one,” Bud said, and they both laughed.
“We all went home after the fight with a plan to meet at a little restaurant near the port in a month. When that day came, I went to the river to bathe before heading to the restaurant. I’d only one eye on me face and me vision was poor, but I hoped to make a living being of use to the same group of men.”
“While we ate the Venetian who sailed with us called for everyone’s attention.”
“‘I’ve a story for you all,’ he said. ’Tis a story of great importance. I went to the river to bathe, and now know there’s a man who looks both ahead and behind. A man with an auspicious, maybe even apotropaic eye, the color of the great Krishna’s skin, an eye like those on the temples in the great mountains, an eye like those one finds on the ancient obelisk. There’s a man with such a mark. A mark of ability. A man I propose to follow. And behind him I’ll try no evil, for he’ll be able to see.”’
“The other men looked amused and confused, and wishing to hear more asked where this man could be found.”
“’He’s among us,’ cried the Venetian.”
“’Who?’ they asked, ‘Who among us can see in all directions?”’
“Then with a gesture full of drama the Venetian pointed to me.”
“‘He,’ said the Venetian, ‘sees both ahead and behind, though he can’t see his own.”’
“And thinking his joke was great, the Venetian fell to laughter. He was a huge man and prone to anger, so the others joined in. The Venetian sprang to his feet and spun me around and yanked at me pants to show them the mark. I spun out of his grip punching him in the side as I did.”
“Bud,” Sally said.
“What did you do?” Marley asked.
“Well, not much. I told you me eye was no good. The Venetian became captain, and following his lead the crew called me Captain Butt-Eye.”
“And how did you make money and feed your family?” Marley asked, “Because you had a daughter right?”
“Aye the cutest little lass that ever lived,” Bud said. “And I fed me family by helping an English art collector who wanted objects that none of his friends had ever seen, or heard of, or could have even imagined.”
“And what did you get for them?” Marley asked.
“That, me lass, be a story for another night,” Bud said, picking Marley up and carrying her to Sally for a goodnight kiss.
* * * * *
The second week that Ed missed a match Bud went to Ed and Jet’s house. After knocking, he went around back and broke a window to get in. He came in through the living room, over a white couch now littered with glass. Bud jumped off the back of the couch to keep from getting cut, and looked around downstairs. None of
the lights were on. The kitchen was a mess. Open food cans and boxes were all over the counter, though there were no pots to signal that anything had been cooked. There were some bowls with old milk and bits of cereal sitting in the corner on the floor. “Disgusting,” Bud said. “Looks like squatters have taken over.”
Bud turned out the kitchen light and walked back through the living room to the stairs. Ed’s never missed tennis before, Bud thought. Now he’s missed it twice and there are strangers in his house.
Bud looked up the stairs. The second floor was dark. He crept up the edge of the stairs to keep them from creaking. At the top he peered around the corner. Bud’s heart beat in his ears. His hands shook. There, slumped against the wall was Ed’s body.
Bud leaned over his best friend. Ed was wearing khaki pants and an undershirt. His face was pale and sunken and it looked like he hadn’t shaved in ages. Bud had heard that a person’s hair continued to grow after they died, but only now did he believe it. The house was so quiet. Deathly quiet. Bud turned to go. He felt faint and sick and knew he couldn’t handle finding Jet and the baby. He’d call the police from the phone downstairs. He regretted having broken into the house and hoped his fingerprints wouldn’t make him a suspect. Bud had taken his first step down the stairs when a quiet dry voice spoke. “Bud,” it said.
Bud jumped and spun around. “Ed? Fuck! I thought you were dead. Are you all right? Why are you on the floor? Why have you been blowing me off? Where are Jet and the baby?”
Ed didn’t answer.
“Christ Ed. Say something. Fuck. My heart is going about a million miles an hour. You scared the crap out of me. What’s going on?”
“Gone. Left. Took the baby. Jet cut her finger off and left. Left.”
“Cut off her finger? Like, on purpose?”
“No. It isn’t a sign, if you do it on purpose,” Ed said.
“A sign?” Bud shook his head. “How long have they been gone?”
Ed shrugged. “A little over a week.”
“And you’ve just been sitting here?”
Chapter 11 Mother Worries
She’d been to Ed’s house every day for the last three days, but no one had answered. Each phone call she’d made had gone unanswered. She tried again. Nothing. No one.
Her purse felt heavy, which reminded her there was a piece of paper in it that should be taken out. Mrs. Mae set her purse down, fished for the paper, and added it to the stack on her desk. She held the green stone paperweight her mother-in-law had used. Used at the same desk. For generations these had belonged to Mrs. Mae. Of course the woman changed, but the objects stayed the same. They help to shape and define the woman.
The Mae family tree had been recorded for hundreds of years, and in those hundreds of years only boys had been born. The choosing of a wife was important. She needed to fit the role. Fit the desk. Fit the family. Carry on.
“Eddie wouldn’t vacation without telling others he’d be gone,” she said to her paperweight. “Maybe his wife decided they’d vacation, and sweet Eddie would have gone along. Against his better judgment, of course.” This explanation eased her worry. She gently tossed the paperweight a few times, never letting it leave the safety of her grasp. It seemed wrong. Heavier. Or maybe lighter. Wrong. She glared at it.
“Oh, I wish I knew where my Eddie was,” she said. “Nothing seems quite right.”
She held the paperweight close to her desk lamp and studied it before setting it back on the stack of papers. She leaned against her desk, still fingering the paperweight, and looked out at the ocean. She crossed the thick rug to her telescope.
Mrs. Mae remembered the first time she’d held Ed’s baby. The baby rolled his little newborn eyes up at her face and then stuck out his lip to cry. That little mouth curled down at the corners just the way her little Eddie’s had curled when he was a baby. The baby was a perfect copy of her Eddie. Not a bit of the mother in him at all.
She swung the telescope in the direction of Ed’s house. The street lights were on. She found a dark patch that she guessed was a park near Ed’s home and then followed the lights along what she suspected were the correct streets to Ed’s house. It was a useless exercise. She found a few of the streets below her home and followed them to her house. She checked for a light in KRS’s house by the gate, and searched the grounds of her home. When she tired of this, she stood next to her telescope and looked at the south tower.
The black squares of the near windows overlapped those on the far side of the tower forming a delicate grid of black against a near-black background. As Mrs. Mae watched the sky change its shade, a set of squares narrowed. Strange, she thought, I must be seeing things. I must be more upset than I’d realized. She kept watching. A form as black as the window frames rose up to the height of the first row, and then the height of the second. She watched as it extended itself to its full height. It must be as big as me. Maybe bigger. What is it? She tried to make out a definite shape in the dark, but couldn’t. Her heart was pounding and she thought about calling Luisa, but decided against it. There’s nothing there. I need a good night of sleep is all. Besides, the south tower doors are locked.
Chapter 12 Luisa
Luisa’s second child had moved out of the house when Luisa was thirty eight. She and her husband had worked hard to keep a roof over their heads, food on the table, and provide extras that he and she never had as children. Luisa didn’t think their kids appreciated it enough, but she also considered this part of their success. Children who hadn’t spent the season before harvest hungry could eat a meal and then forget to say thank you and groan when asked to clear the table. Her daughter was even a vegan.
Luisa and her husband would have spent every moment together if that had been possible. When their son had moved out they had so many plans. They’d make love in the living room any time of day, garden, eat leisurely meals, never tell anyone what to do.
Roberto was diagnosed with cancer a few days after their son left for college. His doctor told them he had six months to live. They made love and then they held each other and cried. Within a month, Roberto couldn’t walk far enough to leave their yard. Luisa gardened while Roberto sat and watched. Within two more weeks, Roberto couldn’t walk far enough to leave the house. They played cards and talked. In one more week, Roberto couldn’t make it out of bed. Luisa would curl up next to him and listen to his breathing, which until the very end sounded, strong and regular. His breath entered and exited his body, keeping the same rhythm it had every night of their married life. She listened. She was there when his body sang out its final beat. She held his hand until dawn, when she called the pastor to help her arrange the funeral.
* * * * *
Luisa was curled up on the couch in her room with a shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She’d started a fire in the fireplace, even though her room was warm enough. The fire was cheerful. She thought about KRS fumbling around with his keys and bowing to her. She thought of Mrs. Mae and wondered if her pay was enough to spend so much time with such an unpleasant person.
Chapter 13 Sees the Slip
Bud had taken Ed home with him and they were finishing a late dinner. Sally had taken Marley upstairs to sleep. Ed thought that Marley sounded like a good name, for a dog. When he’d told Jet, she’d glared at him. Baby names were a sensitive subject for the two of them. Ed sighed.
“You don’t know where they are?” Bud asked.
“No.” Ed rested his forehead against his palms and looked at the table.
“Where have you looked? Who’ve you called?”
“Well, nowhere. Nobody.”
“You’re telling me that you haven’t done a thing. You’ve just been sitting in the same clothing and barely eating for a more than a week?”
Ed didn’t respond. Bud took this to mean yes.
“The same underwear? That’s disgusting. You need to put on some clean clothes, and while you’re at it– shave. Once that’s done, well, you won’t look half bad. You’ve lost some weigh
t. Now that some of your gut’s gone you might be able to borrow my clothes.”
“Wow, thanks Bud, you really know how to make a guy feel better.”
Ed showered and put on some of Bud’s clothing. He looked in the mirror and saw things that Bud was too kind to say. Since he’d married he’d become complacent. He’d never cared much for his job. He just did what was expected of him. Every two weeks, he received a paycheck. In between paychecks he showed up for work, did a reasonable job, a very good job, considering he couldn’t really lose it. He thought about what else he did. Wasn’t much. He grew a tiny bit fatter each week, but Jet was a good cook, so he refused to take all the blame. Once a week, he played tennis with Bud. He ate at the same restaurants, at the same time. He came home and watched TV. He loved Jet and the baby. Why hadn’t he been spending more time with them? He wondered what sculpture Jet had been working on when she cut off her finger. He didn’t know. He hadn’t really paid attention since he knew Jet was his. He’d figured they’d be together their whole lives and there was no hurry, no urgency, to check in with each other.
Chapter 14 Uncertainty
Jet took the baby to lunch where they could sit at a table on the sidewalk and watch the people and cars pass by. The baby fussed every time she tried to put him down, so she looked over the menu with the baby in her lap. When her meal came she held the baby so he could look over her shoulder, which also kept him from grabbing at her fork as she brought it to her mouth.
Mending the Past Page 5
