"Sure."
I doubted Julie and the rest of the bikini crowd would be out this early. Without the presence of girls, the half-dressed men wouldn't be seen either. And there was no reason why I couldn't take a quick look at the ocean. My promise to Julie had been to stay away from the office. As we drove along, I relaxed and enjoyed the ride. I thought about Zach's mother sitting in the sidecar.
"Did your parents ever take long trips like this?" I asked.
"Maybe a couple of hundred miles or so in a day. There are roads in California unlike anyplace else. The views are incredible."
"Do you miss it?"
"Yes."
We popped over a bump that made me hit my knees against the top of the sidecar.
"Sorry," Zach said. "That one snuck up on me."
We came to Tybee Creek, an indistinct waterway that meandered through the landward side of a large marsh. The tops of the marsh grass rippled slightly in the breeze. A few white egrets stood motionless in the water. The tide was going out, exposing mussel beds at the edges of the watery channels. Expensive-looking homes lined the edge of the marsh on both the island and the mainland. We crossed a bridge onto Tybee Island.
"We'll stop near the main pier," Zach said.
We passed through residential areas with sandy driveways guarded by dune grass and into an aging business district. Several people on the sidewalks pointed in our direction as we passed. It made me feel special. We turned down a narrow street and parked in front of a meter. Zach turned off the engine. I climbed as gracefully as I could from the sidecar and removed my helmet. My skirt was wrinkled.
"That was fun," I said before Zach asked me. "You're a good driver."
"Thanks, but you drive a car; you ride a motorcycle."
Zach put on a pair of dark sunglasses. He locked the helmets to the motorcycle with a thin steel cable.
"You don't need any money," he said. "Bring your bag or I can lock it in the sidecar."
"Lock it up. All I want is my hat."
There was a cover that slid over the sidecar, turning it into a storage compartment. Without the helmet over my face, I could smell a tinge of salt in the air. The morning breeze was coming in from the ocean. I put on my hat.
"Ocean views, this way," Zach said, retying his hair in a tight ponytail.
Two- and three-story frame houses with rooms to rent crowded against the sidewalk. There weren't many people on the street.
"It will be crowded here by noon," Zach said.
After a couple of blocks the street made a turn to the left, and I could see the blue glint of ocean in the distance. There were seagulls riding the air currents. Sand scattered the sidewalk. The street ended at a modest sand dune. Looking to the right, I could see the pier stretching its thick finger past the surf into deeper water. Tiny figures of fishermen stood at the end of the pier. I took a deep breath, enjoyed the sensation for a few seconds, and exhaled.
The pier was thirty feet above the water and wide enough for two cars to drive side by side. We passed fishermen using long, sturdy poles. Coolers of bait shrimp and fish rested beside the poles. Most of the fishermen were shirtless, tanned, and smoking cigarettes. I kept my eyes directed toward the water.
"What are they fishing for?" I asked Zach.
"Fish."
"What kinds?"
"Saltwater varieties. I'm not an expert about pier fishing."
We passed several black men with poles in the water. "Moses could tell me what kind of fish live in these waters," I said.
"Who?"
"Moses Jones. Our client charged with trespassing."
"Maybe, but as I remember he also sees faces in the water."
We reached the end of the pier. Here were the serious fishermen, each with multiple poles. I watched one man bait four hooks on a single line and fling it into the air. It plopped into the water far below. Nobody seemed to be catching any fish. Gulls cried out as they swooped down, landing on the pier to scoop up bits of discarded baitfish and shrimp.
The pier gave a panoramic view of the beach. When I was eighteen, I'd traveled to the east coast of Florida for a mission outreach sponsored by our church and waded briefly in the Atlantic early one morning before the sunbathers wearing nothing more than brightly colored underwear made their appearance. Even that brief contact with the sea intrigued me. Like a mountain panorama, the ocean revealed the expanse of creation-a vista so big and unfathomable that only an omnipotent God could have fashioned it. With the tide going out the strand was broad, the waves small. Zach and I found an empty spot along the north side of the pier to watch.
"Are there many shells on this beach?" I asked. I couldn't see anyone stooping over.
"No. It's sand, sun, and water."
"The one other time I was at the ocean, I loved collecting shells," I said. "I have a jarful on a shelf in my bedroom at home. Most are broken, but there is still beauty in them."
Zach nodded his head. "People are like that too."
I turned toward him. "Are you teasing me?"
"No."
More people streamed from the oceanfront motels toward the water. Included were the beginnings of the bathing suit crowd. Seeing the bikini-clad women made me wonder where Julie would spend the day.
"I'll help you with the Jones case this week," Zach said, breaking the silence.
"Okay. Just let me know."
We stood beside each other without speaking for a long time. A crazy thought raced through my mind that Zach wanted to throw me off the pier. I gauged the distance to shallow water. If I survived the fall it would be an easy swim. Zach touched my arm, and I jumped.
"Are you ready to go back to the motorcycle?" he asked.
"Yes."
As we walked off the pier, the fear of harm at Zach's hands didn't leave me. It would be easy for him to ram the sidecar into a tree, endangering my life.
"Why did you invite me on the motorcycle ride?" I asked.
"I'll tell you at our next stop."
"How far is that?"
"It's on the island."
I put on my helmet and stepped into the sidecar. I wanted to return to Mrs. Fairmont's house as soon as possible. Zach backed the motorcycle away from the curb with his feet and started the engine. We retraced our route onto the island. Before crossing the bridge at the marsh, Zach abruptly took a side road.
"Where are we going?" I asked, my anxiety rising.
"You'll see."
After a few hundred yards, the paving gave way to sand. There were a few houses hidden among the trees. Zach turned down a driveway with no house at the end of it and stopped the motorcycle. It was a lonely spot. My heart was pounding in my chest. I sat in the sidecar, not moving.
"Get out here," he said.
"I'm ready to go back to Mrs. Fairmont's house," I said, trying to keep my voice calm.
"And I need to spend several hours at the office. We'll only be here a few minutes."
I licked my lips and climbed out. Zach didn't bother to lock up the helmets.
"It's a short path," he said, heading off into the underbrush.
I didn't know whether to refuse and stay by the motorcycle or run down the road for help. I reluctantly followed. After about twenty yards we came into a clearing. There was the foundation of a destroyed house and a rickety pier with a lot of the boards missing. Zach pointed at the outline of the house.
"The house burned down shortly before I moved to Savannah. Mr. Appleby represented the owners who had to sue the insurance company on the policy."
"Why?"
"The company alleged arson. There was no question it was a set fire, but the evidence connecting our clients was sketchy. They used the insurance money to pay off business debts and avoid bankruptcy instead of rebuilding the house."
The strip of land extended out and provided a nice view up and down Tybee Creek. In the distance I could see cars crossing over the bridge.
"It's a pretty spot," I said. "Can we go now?"
"You
can see better from here," Zach said, walking toward the water.
I followed him to a gazebo near the edge of the water. It didn't take many months for wood to weather in the salt air. Only a few flecks of white paint remained. The vines planted at the edge of the structure were in summer green. Zach didn't enter the gazebo but sat on the front steps. I stood beside him. He was right about the view.
"I like to come here and pray," he said. "I've been in every season of the year."
I looked at him in surprise. I'd been thinking about him in such a negative way that his comment caught me off guard.
"Why here?" I managed.
"It reminds me of a place I liked to go in California. It wasn't near the ocean, but it felt the same."
"What sort of place?"
"Up in the mountains near an abandoned cabin that had fallen in on itself. That's where the Lord told me to come to Savannah."
I sat down on the far end of the steps, leaving a healthy distance between us. "How did that happen? You promised to tell me."
"I know." Zach smiled and took off his sunglasses. "And I try to always keep my promises."
It was such a sweet smile that I blushed in embarrassment at my fears of a few moments before.
"Mr. Appleby read an admiralty case note I wrote for the Pepperdine Law Review and contacted me. I'd never visited this part of the country and agreed to fly out for a visit. I already had three offers from law firms on the West Coast but thought it wouldn't hurt to check out Savannah. I met with Mr. Appleby, and he offered me a job before I left town. The money didn't compare with the other firms' offers, but the cost of living is so much lower here that it was worth considering. Of course, like you, the most important consideration for me was God's will."
"Did you ask your parents?"
"We discussed it. They wanted me closer to home but tried not to let their emotions get in the way. In the end, they left it up to me. That's probably easier to do with a son than a daughter."
"My parents allowed me to make my choice this summer."
"Good for them. Anyway, I rode the black motorcycle into the mountains so I could spend time praying about the decision. I took a tent and sleeping bag so I could spend the night."
"Alone?"
"Except for the bears and mountain lions. The old cabin was built on land purchased by the state to include in a park. It was okay to camp there, but I couldn't build a fire. Just before the sunset I was reading in Acts about the fellowship the early Christians enjoyed in Jerusalem."
"When they had all things in common?" I interrupted.
"Yes, only the part that touched my heart was the phrase 'fellowship of believers.' In my family, relationship with other Christians stood at the center of everything. I knew if I took one of the other jobs, I might make more money, but that the fellowship of believers waited for me in Savannah."
"Where are these people?" I asked, feeling excitement rise up inside me. "I could go to church with you tomorrow."
Zach shook his head. "I'm not sure I've met them. I'm part of a church that meets in a house on the north side of the city. It's a great group, but as I've continued to pray about the verse, I think it may be more personal than corporate."
"I don't understand."
"The best fellowship often happens one-on-one with another person, not in a crowd of people."
I swallowed. "Are you talking about male/female fellowship?" I asked.
Zach laughed. "With everything shared in common. You're already good at cross-examination."
"Why are you telling me this? You're not talking to me as you would a summer clerk."
"That's right. You're the type of girl who deserves the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. I want to be completely up front with you. I'm interested in getting to know you better, but only with your permission. If you say no, I won't bring it up again, and there won't be any hard feelings on my part."
It was the most flattering, pure-hearted invitation I'd ever received from a male.
"I'll need to talk to my parents about it."
"Sure. You can talk to Joe Carpenter if you like. I'm not suggesting we date or agree to anything beyond getting to know each other in a transparent way." Zach gestured with his hand across the expanse of the marsh. "Without the distractions of phony barriers."
I stared at the marsh for a few moments. My heart beat a little faster. "I've never had anyone approach me like this," I said.
Zach pulled on his ponytail. "And I'd bet you've never met a Christian lawyer from California with long hair who owns two motorcycles."
17
DURING THE RETURN TRIP TO MRS. FAIRMONT'S HOUSE, THE SUN climbed higher in the sky. The artificial breeze created by the speed of the motorcycle kept me outwardly cool, but inside I felt flushed.
I barely knew the young lawyer, but he'd already shown the ability to get behind my defenses. No one, not even the boys at church who'd known me all their lives and shared the same religious convictions, ever came close to relating to me as a person. The novelty of the ride in the sidecar couldn't compete with the new thoughts racing through my head. I spoke into the microphone.
"How long have you been thinking about what you said to me on the island?"
Zach glanced sideways. "Is this a good time to talk about that question?"
"Yes."
"Since the first time we met."
"Was it the homeschool connection?"
"It was everything. Put yourself in my shoes. How hard is it to meet people whose main goal in life is to love and obey God?"
We stopped in front of Mrs. Fairmont's house. I handed him the helmet. "Do you want to come in for a few minutes?" I asked.
"No, I'm going to the office."
"Thanks for the ride."
As I reached the front door, I heard Zach pull away from the curb. I couldn't resist stopping to watch him ride down the street until he was out of sight.
Flip greeted me at the door. Mrs. Fairmont was sitting in the den with a book in her lap. Her eyes were closed. I quietly walked over to her chair. The book in her lap was a biography of Abigail Adams, wife of John Adams. I wondered how many pages she'd read before falling asleep or losing the ability to concentrate. She stirred and opened her eyes.
"It's Tami Taylor," I said quickly.
She rubbed her eyes. "I know who you are, but thanks for reminding me. Did you have a good time?"
"Yes ma'am. We rode out to Tybee Island."
"When I was a little girl one of the highlights of the summer was the train ride to Tybee."
"A motorcycle was exciting for me."
Mrs. Fairmont nodded and pointed a frail finger at the book in her lap. "Life has to be lived while you can. You only have one chance."
IT WAS No USE TRYING to call home. I knew Mama and Daddy would be working all day Saturday. So, I cleaned and scrubbed my apartment for several hours, then offered to take Flip on a walk through the neighborhood. As soon as he saw the red leash, Flip ran to the front door and began jumping up and down. I fastened the lead to his collar and headed out the door. The leash seemed unnecessary. The little dog stayed by my side with his head held high in the air. We walked all the way to Forsyth Park where I let him drink from a special water fountain just for dogs. When we returned to the house, Mrs. Fairmont held him in her lap and made me repeat in detail everything that had happened. The two of them took a long nap in the den.
Late in the afternoon Mrs. Fairmont woke up and started watching TV. I slipped into the kitchen to phone home. One of the twins answered. It sounded like Ellie.
"It's Tami. Is this Ellie?"
"Do I sound like Ellie?"
"Yes, I need to talk to Mama and Daddy."
"Are you in trouble?"
"No."
"Then why are you in such a hurry to talk to them? Don't you want to know what Emma and I have been doing today?"
I realized that I'd sounded curt. "Sure. Did you clean the chicken coop?"
To my surprise,
the girls hadn't worked much at all. After they cleaned their room, Mama took them to a basketball scrimmage for girls their age at the high school.
"We each wore one of your old uniforms," she said. "It was funny because we looked alike and had the same number."
I'd purchased my high school uniforms because no one else would want to wear extra-long shorts and baggy shirts.
"Who had the most assists?" I asked.
"They didn't keep up with that, only points and rebounds. I had four more points than Emma."
"What about rebounds?"
"She got some lucky bounces."
"And then threw the ball to you while you were running down the court. If you scored on her pass that would be an assist."
"Yeah, that happened a couple of times. Anyway, the new coach for the middle school team was there watching. She talked to Mama after the scrimmage about us being on the team."
"But you won't be enrolled at the school."
Ellie spoke with excitement in her voice. "The coach says the school board has adopted a new policy for homeschoolers that lets them play sports. I'm not sure how it works, but Mama and Daddy are going to pray about it. Would you pray too? The other girls were nice to us and had fun trying to tell us apart."
It would be much easier for Ellie and Emma to face the world together than it had been for me going it alone.
"Two are better than one," I said, quoting part of a verse from Ecclesiastes.
"Yeah, but I also sank some free throws," Ellie said. "It's only one point, but most of the girls didn't come close. Emma and I only missed two each."
I didn't try to correct her. "Now, will you let Mama and Daddy know that I'm on the phone?"
"I love you," Ellie said.
"I love you too."
I could hear the television in the den. It sounded like Mrs. Fairmont was watching a war movie. Mama came on the line.
"I'm here," she said. "Ellie said it was urgent. Are you all right?"
"Yes ma'am. It couldn't be too urgent. I listened to Ellie talk for ten minutes about the basketball scrimmage. Are they going to play on the middle school team next year?"
"We're praying about it."
"Is Daddy there?"
"He's gone with Kyle to look at a few head of cattle. I think Kyle has them sold for a profit before he buys them. That boy is going to be a success. I just hope it doesn't become too important to him and draw him away from the Lord." Mama paused. "But tell me everything about your week."
Deeper Water Page 20
