by ML Gardner
Caleb spoke quietly. “I know I’m not the only one that notices Aryl is different.”
Her eyes avoided him. “No. They say it’s to be expected after what he’s been through. That he’ll be back to his old self in time.” She nodded firmly and pat Jac’s back harder.
“Have you noticed the mood swings? One minute, he’s almost like the old Aryl. And the next he’s, well, he’s an ass.”
She glanced at Caleb and back to the baby.
“He’s been moody, yes.”
“And have you noticed that when he really gets on an angry streak, he walks away and when he comes back, he’s merry old Aryl again?” He knew she did. But would she admit it?
She stopped patting. “Yes,” she said cautiously.
“I think I know why he’s like that.”
“Because of the accident, that’s why.”
“No. No, Claire, there’s more to it than that. I think he’s using opiates. Hooked on them, even. He can’t live without them.”
After a second, she broke out in a smile. “Now, that’s ridiculous, Caleb. Really.” She took the baby to the couch and laid him down, checking his diaper.
“Claire, I’m serious.”
“Look, I’m having a hard time with the way Aryl has been since he came back. But that’s quite an assumption to make. Opiates. Honestly, Aryl would never touch the stuff!”
“Shh! Lower your voice, please.” He stole a peek at the stairs and moved closer to Claire.
“It’s hard to think about, I know. But I have proof.”
She stopped, wet diaper held mid-air. “What proof?”
“I can’t explain, exactly. I’m not supposed to say anything to anyone and this particular secret is proving to be a lot harder for me to keep than any other.”
“You’ve never been good at secrets, Caleb.”
“Well, I have to try with this one. Please, take my word for it. I know he’s using it.”
With a dismissive shake of her head she went back to changing the baby.
“I have another question for you. Have you wondered at all how Aryl’s mother knew he was alive all this time?”
“She said something about the gypsy lady in town.”
“And how did she know?”
Claire scoffed. “Dumb luck. Of all the wives and mother’s she’s been feeding that line to, she got lucky with this one. I’ve heard her business has tripled since Aryl got back.”
“What if it wasn’t luck? What if she is gifted and she really knew.”
“I don’t know, Caleb,” she said with a sigh. “What are you getting at?”
“Another question.”
“I do have work to do, you know.” She stood, shifting Jac and walked the soiled diaper through the kitchen out onto the mudroom, tossing it into the wash bucket.
“Do you ever wonder where he’s been? He hasn’t told you, has he? Keeps it all secretive and dodges the subject. Aren’t you curious?”
She stopped and turned slowly. “I do wonder, Caleb. But he’ll tell me in his own time.”
“I don’t think he will.” He put his hands on his hips and stood tall. “I don’t think he has any intention of telling us and I think it has to do with the opiates.” He saw the frown cross her face and quickly corrected. “Mood swings, then.”
“Well, what do you suppose we do?”
“We could go to the gypsy that knew he was alive. If she knew that, she might know where he has been.”
“You’re putting a lot of stock in this woman. Smoke and mirrors, I’m telling you.”
“Just go with me into town to see her.”
“I couldn’t afford it anyway, Caleb.” She cast her eyes down. “Since I won’t let Aryl go back out on the boats and he hasn’t found any other work, we’re barely making rent.”
“I’ve got payment covered. It’s in booze, but I’m sure she’ll take it.” He held out his hand. “Please? I know you might be content to wait patiently, but I need to know. Besides, it’ll do Jac good to get some fresh air.”
She flipped her hand in the air. “Fine. Let me get a blanket for Jac and leave Aryl a note,” she said as she walked away.
Claire smiled down at Jac as she pushed the old stroller toward Main Street. She’s found it in the attic of their rental house and it had cleaned up well.
Caleb was deep in thought as they walked, and when they got close to the storefront taunting fortunes and spells, he picked up his pace.
With his hand on the door knob, Claire stopped.
“You go. I’ll wait out here.”
“No, I thought you wanted to know.”
“There’s nothing saying this woman knows what she’s talking about. I don’t believe in all this garbage and even if I did, I respect Aryl enough to wait until he’s ready to tell me himself.”
“I don’t think you want to know.”
“Yes, I do!”
“Then let’s find out.”
With pursed lips she looked up, defiant and said, “I will. From him.”
“Fine,” he said and threw open the door. Claire pushed the stroller to a bench and waited, watching people as they went about their day.
After what seemed like forever, but in reality had only been twenty minutes, Caleb returned, white faced and shaken.
“Did you find out what you needed to?”
“Yes and no.”
“I’m telling you, Caleb. She got lucky with this one.”
She watched him as they walked down Main Street. “Whatever she told must have been important. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“She had some to say about Aryl, but then she went off and started telling me things about myself.”
“Like what?”
“Things I’m not sure I wanted to know,” he said quietly.
“You can’t put too much stock in whatever she said, Caleb. Did you find out where Aryl has been?”
“Well, no.”
“See. She didn’t tell you what you came to know because she didn’t know. But she did get you worried about yourself. She’s probably pretty confident you’ll come back to find out more.” She shook her head slowly. “It’s a scam.”
As they passed a small office with a rickety shingle, something in the window caught Claire’s eye. She only had to think for a moment before handing the stroller off to Caleb.
“Your turn to sit and wait. I’ll be right back.”
She pushed open the door and stepped inside a small, sparsely furnished office. A woman looked up from an old, discolored wooden desk.
“Can I help you?” She had full, dark brown hair, messily piled on her head beneath a fedora hat. She smiled, her teeth slightly crooked and coffee stained.
“I saw your sign in the window. Are you still looking for an artist?”
Her eyes lit up as she stood and extended her hand. “I am. My name is Muzzy Brown.”
Claire smiled. “Muzzy?”
She waved her hand, scrunching up her nose. “It’s an old nickname that just stuck. Can you draw?”
“Well, I paint, mainly. But I can draw as well. What exactly are you looking for?”
“Someone to do a satire piece twice a week.”
“I think I could do that.”
Muzzy sat back down. “Do you mind if I see some of your work?” she asked, trying to look official.
“Oh, I didn’t bring any.” Claire pointed toward the door. “I can go get some of my paintings, if you’d like.”
Muzzy handed her a tablet and a pencil. “Maybe you could just show me here?”
Claire took the tablet, crossed her legs, and placed it on her knee. “What would you like me to draw?”
“Whatever comes to mind.” Muzzy smiled.
She went to work, sketching, tilting her head this way and that, turning the tablet and after giving it a nod of approval, handed it over.
Muzzy laughed. It was a drawing of her, as she appeared to Claire, sitting at her desk. Only she had a bubble above her head ho
lding the words, “You’re hired!”
“This is good.” She nodded. “But can you do satire?” She leaned forward eagerly. “That’s big in New York and Boston right now. That’s what I need. Outrageous, thought provoking, defiantly political, and funny. ”
“Hmm.” She held out her hand for the tablet and Muzzy passed it to her. Claire thought for a moment before setting her pencil to work.
“You want some coffee?” Muzzy asked.
“Love some, thanks,” Claire said without looking up.
“Cream and sugar?”
“Black is fine.”
“I’ll be right back.” The door behind Muzzy’s desk was labeled, “Mr. Brown, Owner.” She opened it a crack and slipped through sideways. A few moments later she emerged with two cups of coffee.
“Here ya go.” She tried to steal a peek as she set the mug on the far side of the desk. Claire stopped drawing, but kept her eyes on the tablet and reached for the mug.
She took a sip and her eyes went wide. “Wow, that’s strong!” She looked up at Muzzy, who was smiling back at her. It explained her frazzled, wired appearance.
“Newspaper business is demanding. That stuff keeps me going.”
“For days, I’m sure.”
Claire went back to work and Muzzy began reading over copy for the next edition of The Rockport Review.
“There. How’s this?” She handed it over and cringed slightly, waiting for Muzzy’s critique.
She slammed her open hand on the desk and let out a laugh. “This is perfect! I love it! Wall Street fat cat strolling down Main Street screaming, “Recovery! Recovery! Tomorrow is looking brighter than ever!” and there’s change falling from his pockets. You’ve got these peasants ignoring what he’s saying and dashing for the pennies falling to the ground.” She sat, staring with an open smile. “It’s perfect. Just what I need.” Looking up at Claire she said, “You’re hired.”
Claire beamed and did a little wiggle in her seat. “Really?”
“Yes, really. But before you accept, you should know a few things. This is a small paper. A start up, really.” She cast her eyes down. “A newsletter, if I’m being perfectly honest.”
“That’s okay, everyone has to start somewhere. Even the New York Times started with that first paper.”
“And a hell of a lot more money than I have. Er, than the owner has.” Her face went serious as she pointed over her shoulder at Mr. Brown’s office.
“But I’m looking to expand. I’ve got big ideas. Big dreams. I’m gonna build this paper up and expand it and it’s gonna be huge. You’ll see.”
“I’m sure you will, Muzzy.”
“The other thing, it doesn’t pay much.”
“That’s fine.”
“No, it really doesn’t pay much.” Her eyes went wide with a smile. “But you get a free subscription!”
Claire laughed. “Sounds good.”
“I need two of these a week. Paper comes out Tuesday and Saturday, so I’ll need the copy the day before each printing. Early in the morning. Even the night before is fine. I don’t have a large print run right now, but, as I get bigger, I’m going to need it…” She paused, looking up at the ceiling. “Two days before the run.”
“I can do that,” Claire said, wondering how much coffee Muzzy had already this morning.
“And I’d like to have a staff meeting once a week for everyone to plan and come up with ideas. The first one is tonight, can you make it?”
Claire bit her lip, wondering if Aryl was ready to watch the baby for a few hours. Ready or not, he was going to have to. After all, she had a paying job now, despite how little it paid, and he didn’t. He needed to support her in this.
“I’ll be here. What time?”
“Seven o’clock. Right here and I’ll have coffee ready.”
“Sounds good. Who all will be at the staff meeting?”
Muzzy looked off to the side, pretending to count. Then she grinned and her eye twitched. “Me and you.”
∞∞∞
Aryl was awake, sitting at the table with a cup of coffee when Claire walked in. Jonathan and Ian were sitting with him. None of them appeared very happy.
“Where’ve you been?” he asked.
“I’ve been in town. I left a note.” She nodded a hello at Jonathan and Ian before continuing. With a big smile, she announced, “I got a job!”
Aryl’s face fell into shock and she held her hands up. “I know what you’re thinking, but it isn’t full time. I’m working as a cartoon artist for that little newspaper. I can do all the work here and I only have to go in for one meeting a week.” She beamed with excitement. “It’s not much money, but everything helps, right?”
Aryl stretched his torso in his seat and readjusted. “Jon and Ian here were just talking to me about that. Going back to work.” He shot an angry look at them that Claire didn’t understand.
“Aryl, be fair. We’ve tried to be. You’ve had a little time to get used to being home again; we just don’t think it’s fair to keep splitting the money we make on the boat four ways when only three of us are working.”
“We thought you’d be appreciative,” Ian said. “We set that up for Claire and Jac, so they’d have your share of the income for as long as they needed it, even though you were gone.”
Aryl looked down, temporarily shamed. “I am.”
“But now that you’re back…” Jonathan trailed off, waiting for Aryl to finish the sentence.
“Yeah, I get it. What time do you guys shove off? I’ll be there.” He crossed his arms with a creased brow.
“Now hold on a minute!” Claire yelled. “He’s not going back out there, Jon. Not ever.”
“Claire, I understand your hesitation. But we can’t keep going like this. The other families are nearly starving.”
“Then cut us off! But he’s not going back.”
“We don’t want to cut you off, that’s not why we’re here.”
“Claire, I’ll handle this, okay,” Aryl said with a hint of irritation.
“Excuse me?” she asked, putting her weight to one side with her hand on her hip. “You’ll handle this? Well, Aryl, you better handle it the right way. Because I will not have you go back out on that boat again! You won’t be so lucky next time.”
He looked up, his tired eyes circled in dark. “Lucky?” he asked. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” He swung his head back around to Jonathan. “What time Monday morning?”
“Dawn.”
“I’ll be there.”
Claire waited until they left before she started yelling. “Aryl! Have you lost your mind! How can you do this!”
“I have to do this. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there aren’t a hell of a lot of jobs out there. You should consider me lucky to be able to simply go back to work when I want to.”
“Well, I don’t. Not doing that. Not back on that boat.”
Aryl squinted, rubbing his aching head. “Claire, just relax, okay, it’s fine.”
“Aren’t you afraid?”
“No.”
“How can you not be?!” she screamed, stamping her foot.
He jumped up and stood very close, looking down on her, and whispered angrily. “Because I’ve learned there are a lot worse things to be afraid of than dying.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked, shrinking back.
“People. And the things they can do. The things they are capable of. You have no idea.”
She reached out to put a hand on his arm. He brushed it away at first, but let it rest when she persisted. “Are you talking about the life you had while you were gone? You know that whatever happened, whatever you went through, I will still love you, Aryl. Nothing can change that.”
I can change that, the monster whispered. Aryl closed his eyes, willing it away. It had only been a few hours since he fed it. It had been growing more hungry over the last few days. Developing a voracious appetite.
“I don’t want t
o hurt you, Claire,” he whispered.
“Where did that come from?”
When she looked in his eyes she could see a soul in pain.
“I’m so worried about you. Tell me what happened. Please?”
“I can’t.” He shook his head and turned.
She grabbed his arm. “Wait.”
The monster roared up, shook her off and yelled something unintelligible. She recoiled, frightened.
He looked horrified for a second, whispered, “I’m sorry.” And ran to the bathroom. From under the sink he pulled out his bag. Doing it now, to keep her safe.
As he sat on the bathroom floor with his head in one hand, an empty bottle in the other, the idea came to him. He dug through the bag finding the remaining two bottles. He wanted to feel guilty for taking them from Caleb, but he had no business with them anyway. A stash like that could get a man locked away for a long time. He was protecting him. Yeah, that’s it. Protecting his best friend. It was the least he could do after all he’d been through. And, if he took a little more, that wouldn’t hurt anybody. Aryl stuffed the bag back in its hiding place and bent over the sink to wash his face, working it all out in his head.
Claire was sitting on the couch with Jac. She wiped at her eyes angrily and tried to smile whenever the baby looked up at her.
“Alright, I won’t go,” he said quietly from the doorway.
She looked up, shocked. “Really?”
“Really.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to go out and find a job.”
“But you said—”
He sat down beside her, took her hand and touched the baby’s curly brown hair. “I know what I said. Don’t worry about it. I’ll find one. I won’t let you and Jac go without.”
“I never thought you would, Aryl. I just can’t have you go back out to sea. I’d rather starve. I can’t do that again,” she said, her eyes brimming with tears.
“Well, put it out of your head. I’ll go tell Jon to keep his money and I’ll start looking for work, okay?”
He smiled and his eyes crinkled at the edges. Pulling her over to him, he kissed the top of her head and then Jac’s. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
