The Secret Storm

by Peggy Trotter

  Then like an anvil to the skull, he knew.

  Hoge shrugged. “It was for your own good.”

  Shock and then fury rooted Ake to the deck.

  His brother ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know about the baby.”

  The deck pitched, but Ake barely acknowledged it. He stormed forward and shoved his brother against the wheelhouse. Hoge’s eyes widened in a flash, and he came back with a swipe. Ake dodged it and chucked his mitt to his chunky brother’s midsection. The grunt Hoge breathed assured him the punch had struck home.

  Again, Hoge’s sad attempt to clock him went airborne.

  “You had no right to do that.” Ake kept his peripherals on Hoge’s fists. His trunk always twinged when he got ready to fire. Dead giveaway.

  “She’s no good.”

  “Stop saying that.” Ake grabbed his collar and tossed him to the wet deck and pounced on him. He snugged Hoge’s arms up tight against his body with his knees and jammed his forearm under his jaw.

  Hoge growled while tossing side to side, trying to unclamp Ake’s legs. He squeezed harder, and blood rushed to his face at the effort.

  “Let me go, Dummy.”

  Dummy. Dummy. Dummy. Forever the idiot. Sanity briefly left, and he pummeled Hoge’s face. Enough. No more. He saw red until the same hue covered his hands in the form of warm moisture. He stopped, heaving, staring at his fists. Then at Hoge’s bloody face. His brother had grown still.

  Ake shoved away and paced to put a distance between them. The boat tossed, catching his focus before Hoge appeared on his heels, yanking him back to the deck. They smacked together and rolled across the wet wood until their bound bodies struck the port side. Hoge thunked his ear, and Ake reached out to squeeze his brother’s windpipe. He’d end this right quick.

  The floor fell, and they landed at an angle and slid across the slick wood. Suddenly starboard greeted them with a splash, Ake landing on the bottom. His attention switched to behind his brother’s big stupid head, and the wheelhouse rose above him. That’s when he knew.

  Storm.

  “Stop. Stop!” Ake shoved Hoge’s head against the side and slithered out from below him. He popped up and took a few scarecrow steps to gather a little balance on the rocking deck.

  Hoge rolled over and pushed up on his arm. Then, he too, looked around. He staggered to stand and stared at his brother. He pointed and bellowed, “This is your fault.”

  The wind buffeted him, and the sky had frothed a dark gray. Thunder rumbled in the distance. The Sea Wheat 1 churned on the foaming waves, the dips ever growing.

  But Hoge pointed again. “You left.”

  “What are you talking about? I’m still here.”

  “Before. When we were kids. You left and when you came back, you didn’t even know me.”

  Anger drained from Ake’s body. This wasn’t the time to toss about the events of his childhood. The storm would be upon them in minutes. Then there would be more to fear than their own anger. He tottered to the wheelhouse. Hoge beat him there and grabbed his shirt anchoring them to the wheelhouse with his other arm.

  “And everything was gone.”

  Ake wrenched from him. “What are you talking about? Can’t you see the storm?”

  But Hoge’s face loomed closer. “Your drughead mom and her methed-up boyfriend cracked your head open. Don’t you get it?”

  The rain began to fall, peppering their frozen faces. Acid burned up Ake’s throat. “It’s why I’m a Dummy, isn’t it?”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The look on Hoge’s face said it all. “The social worker shouldn’t have taken you from our family. You should have never gone back to that abuse. When you came back, I promised myself that no one would ever hurt you again. I had to protect you from her, Ake. That’s why I sent her away.”

  Protection. That was it. That explained a lifetime of Hoge’s anger. Anger that masked pain. How Ake’s peace offerings had always been rejected. Even from as far back as Ake could remember. All the appeasing never worked because Hoge feared losing him. Afraid something else would happen to his little adopted brother. And now, his protective brother had run off the best thing that had ever happened to him.

  The storm around them caught Ake’s attention once more. Things were really messed up. And now, life-threatening. Hoge’s mistake with Stormi would have to wait.

  Lightning flashed overhead, and the Sea Wheat 1 tipped up to ride the swell. Hoge’s feet slipped out from under him, and he slid down toward the stern. Ake looped his arm around the wheelhouse wall as Hoge struck the stern and then grasped the side. Rope. They would need to tie themselves to the boat.

  When the boat fell to the bottom of the swell, Ake hurried into the wheelhouse and groped for the loops of hemp in the lower shelf. As the boat continued to pitch, he anchored the rope around the bars behind the wheelhouse. He glanced toward Hoge, who struggled on his knees to gain the bow of the boat.

  He flung the rope towards his brother and then dipped into the wheelhouse. Time to alert the Coast Guard and get the engine roaring.

  ***

  Stormi picked up the paper. Right on time. Calm Sunday morning. Just keep doing what makes the time tick by. So this was Ake’s revenge. Or maybe God’s. Her, trying to get over Ake. Oops. She transgressed. No thoughts of Ake. Just the headlines, the classifieds, and maybe a glance at the gossip column.

  She took a deep breath. The musty smell of the old couch made her throat hurt. She pressed the sports page to the cushion, careful not to waft the dust up.

  Mid-column a car drove up. It only gave her momentary pause. Forty trailers brought in all kinds of traffic. Especially the one on the back corner. But the pounding on the door brought the inked paged down. Only ShaVonn knew she was here.

  She rose and went to the door. ShaVonn’s distorted mug eyed her door through the peek hole. She zipped the chain from the lock and tugged it open.

  “What?”

  ShaVonn slid past her and paused in the middle of the room. “Alan contacted me. Something about a ‘Joni?’ Who’s that?”

  “Joni?” Her mind spun. “What else did he say?”

  “That you need to call her. I think you really freaked out Alan. Did you lose your phone? I guess he called every church in Stone Haven to try to find you and hooked up with this Joni. Who is this chick anyway?”

  Stormi grabbed her sister’s purse.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Phone, ShaVonn. Now.”

  She tsked her but gave up the phone. “Here’s the number.”

  With a swipe, Stormi snatched it from her sister and quickly dialed. On the third buzz an uncertain voice answered. “Joni?”

  “Stormi? Oh, thank God. You’ve got to come back. Like right this minute.”

  She stepped down the hallway, away from ShaVonn’s prying ears. “You know that’s not wise. Hoge—”

  “Hoge caved. Early this morning he told me that he forced you to leave. I sent him to level with Ake and apparently they took out the boat. Just the two of them.”

  “I’m in Georgia, Joni.”

  “Get here fast. The Coast Guard is out looking for them.”

  Something clenched Stormi’s heart. “Why? What’s happening?”

  “A huge storm. And they’re caught in it. Please, Stormi. You’ve got to come home.”

  Home. She took a deep breath and pressed her back against the paneling in the narrow hall. Ake. In danger. “Oh, God,” she muttered. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  She tossed the phone on the bed, praying while pulling her suitcase from the closet. ShaVonn appeared at the door. Stormi ignored her and jammed her belongings into the bag.

  “Well?”

  Stormi swept past her and raked the toiletries from the vanity. “It’s Ake. He’s out on the boat during a storm.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  “Get on that phone and get me a ticket to Boston.”

  “You’re not driving?” />
  “No. Be reasonable. It’s an eighteen hour drive straight through. I needed to be there five minutes ago.”

  “Gotcha, okay.”

  With a zip, Stormi shut the bulging case and dropped it to the ground. She snatched her purse and checked for money and her ID. ShaVonn’s voice echoed to her from the living room. Please let her find a flight. Please, God.

  She grabbed her laptop and made for the door.

  “You’ve got a flight in ninety minutes.”

  She jogged to the front door with her sister close behind. “Super, ShaVonn. What would I do without you?”

  “Just be safe, going off all half-cocked. And call me. Got it?”

  Stormi shoved the large suitcase into the back seat and flung her purse to the front. “Got it. Oh, and ShaVonn? Pray. Just pray hard.”

  ***

  Stormi didn’t realize until she’d sat down in the airport shuttle that she had no phone. No way to get in contact with anyone. She shoved away this minor detail and raced through the huge airport to find her gate. Nothing mattered now but getting back to Ake.

  Security checks were agonizingly slow. And then she left her driver’s license and had to jog back to get it. The flight was delayed twenty minutes, and the passengers boarded like caged sloths. Oh, Lord, if she didn’t kill someone before she arrived, truly there was a Santa Claus.

  At long last, Stormi leaned back in her seat and the plane took to flight. And since she basically stared God face to face through steel and rivets, she whispered a fervent prayer for Ake.

  “Please, God, don’t ever let me be this stupid again. Never let me take advantage of the best blessings you’ve ever given me. And please, oh, please let Ake and Hoge be safe.”

  The plane leveled, and Stormi rode the clouds with earbuds jammed in her ear, praying for time to pass. By the time they’d landed, Boston neared dusk. Rumbles of thunder could be heard through the plane’s hull. Great time to blast outa the huge city in a rental car. Get off the plane, get off the plane.

  She scurried through the airport, wishing she hadn’t checked her bag. Oh, the dance of the slowest carousel on earth began. Some thirty minutes later, her bag birthed through the rubber strips, and she sped off toward the car rental booth.

  Once at the lot, she raced for the nearest car, loaded the luggage with a fling, and jumped in. She tried to find a news station in hopes she’d get some information, but nothing turned up. In frustration, she flipped it off. Driving through Boston would take all her concentration anyway through the spattering rain. She racked her brain to remember the highway she needed to get on to make it to Stone Haven. Fear snaked down her vertebrae. Had they found them yet?

  ***

  “Coast Guard. This is Sea Wheat 1. A forty-foot fishing boat. We’ve been caught in the storm. Two passengers on board. Need assistance. I repeat, need assistance. We are approximately twenty-five miles out from shore due east, over.”

  Ake let up the receiver button on the VHF radio bolted to the ceiling. So far no replies from channel sixteen. And complete darkness now edged in. Not good. He checked the marine GPS screen. He should give the coordinates again. A battered Hoge stepped in the shelter as the boat rode a huge swell. Both of them gripped the side of the doorway to keep from losing their feet.

  “Tie that rope around you.” Ake barked as he squeezed the trigger to deliver the distress signal once more. Tricky while trying to steer the boat through the thirty foot swells. But the foamy white water doused the deck, and equipment slid from side to side. The craft was much like a speck of Styrofoam in a wave pool. Unless the sea continued to come in. Then they’d be mere pennies at the bottom.

  “Shut up.”

  Ake barely had time to process Hoge’s rude reply. A wave yawned above them, and Hoge shoved him over to get to the controls. Ake wasn’t about to wrestle him for it. Hoge knew this boat and what the hull could weather. He brought the speed down and rode the waves, just short of facing full in. The white cascades of angry water engulfed the entire deck as they came down into a water hole. Buried in a sea of boiling ghosts. The wiper blade beat furiously. Ake checked the bilge pumps as he prayed they’d live to see another wave. The radio blared, deafened by the cacophony of wild water around them.

  “Copter up and heading your way, Sea Wheat 1. Identify your position, over.”

  Through his shivers, Ake felt the warmth of relief cocoon him. They’d heard. Now, if they could only survive Satan’s sea.

  “Shoot. The winch!”

  Hoge’s shout could be heard above the waves. He shouldered out of the wheelhouse.

  “No, Hoge.” Ake yelled. His head swiveled to see Hoge stumble then slide toward the stern. There the winch wobbled back and forth. One good twist would unseat it completely.

  “Dear God.” Ake sputtered. What was his brother thinking? Had panic clouded his mind? He couldn’t begin to lift that piece of equipment, let alone drag it across the deck to safety in this squall. Terror squeezed him when his eyes trailed the rope, snaking down the soaked deck to the end, curling and snapping in freedom.

  Hoge was untethered.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The winch thunked back to its support as they floundered about in another hole of writhing, sucking water. Ake gripped the walls, feeling the Sea Wheat’s nose tip up. He cut his gaze forward. A wall of water greeted him. Dear heavens.

  “Hoge!”

  His brother went airborne like a slo-mo reel of a skydiver, arms sprawled, twisting. The boat skewed under the pressure of the sea, and Hoge disappeared into the foaming froth. Dreaded words branded Ake’s thoughts like a smelting fire.

  Man overboard.

  He burst from the wheelhouse, his hand gripping at the rope, checking its security. Hoge appeared in a wave not far off, his arms up, face warped in panic. God, what to do?

  Lengthen your rope. He quickly obeyed the mental command. A yellow flash of the inflatable rescue boat in the wheelhouse lit his brain. He maneuvered back to grab it, his attention on the wave to ride the swells. He returned to the port side to catch a flash of Hoge resurfacing in the oscillating waves. He was too far to reach him with the painter line. Not wise to be untethered from the boat. Now what?

  Jump.

  Ake didn’t question the directions that flowed through his brain, but clamped the boat’s line to the rope around his waist and rolled over the side into the chilling waves.

  “God…God…God,” was all Ake’s brain could repeat.

  Ake surfaced in the wildness and took off in a sidestroke. A wave ballooned before him and Hoge’s one arm rose above the waters.

  I’m near. He let his body submerge to use both hands, blindly yanking the emergency line. Immediately the rescue boat puffed out into shape. Ake sank to keep the boat from injuring him. He sputtered to the surface and swam around the yellow device. Lightning zapped from sky to water. There he was. God help me.

  The wave pitched his brother very close. He struck out to grab him, but he missed and his brother’s blue shirt disappeared into the deluge. A miracle. Connecting with Hoge in the swell of water fireworks would take nothing less. He dove, a prayer filling the inner crevices of his soul.

  He banged into something solid. A fish? No. Fish did not wear garments. Ake grabbed and pulled the heavy body against him, his lungs near to bursting. Hoge seemed limp.

  Get to the rescue boat.

  A surge of water buoyed him to the surface. Ake sucked air into his lungs. He wrapped his arm about Hoge’s neck and sidestroked to the yellow flash rising and dropping in front of him. Amidst the surging of the waves around him, he wrestled Hoge’s still body over the side of the air-filled sanctuary.

  Ake clutched the rope along the side and pounded his back. After several thumps, his brother sputtered and vomited. He pushed himself up on his elbow, Hoge’s eyes registering the situation.

  “Ake!”

  A shadow darkened the water. Ake turned. The letters he’d memorized as Sea Wheat 1 met his face.


  Gurgling. Then blackout.

  ***

  Stormi didn’t bother to head to a house. She went straight to the dock. Men in slickers stood about in the rain. A few broke away and ran to the grill across the street. She yanked the small car to the curb and leaped from the vehicle.

  “Where’s Ake? Have they found him? What’s going on?

  The group of men turned as she screamed at full run towards them.

  “Whoa there, little lady. Who ya looking for?” A man with thick brows caught her as she collided into the group.

  “Ake, my husband.”

  Odd mutterings and stares flashed around the roughnecks until Brows spoke again.

  “Best get you over to the Grill. Joni’s there. They’re set up around the short wave—”

  Stormi spun and raced across the road, heedless of traffic. The man’s last word, radio, hung over her head. Rain plastered her hair to her head and obscured her vision. But she managed to keep the neon sign in view.

  Like a sewage rat, she thundered into the hushed environment, sputtering. “Joni?”

  From the bar Joni turned, surveyed her quickly before scurrying over to hug her. “Oh, my lands, you’re soaked. Mitty, get my coat. Have ya got a blanket, Madge?”

  People gathered about her in sympathetic murmurs. God, what did it mean?

  She brushed away their help. “Where is he?”

  Joni took her shoulders. “We don’t know yet. Last we heard they were both in the water.”

  Alarm hollowed her stomach. Stormi searched her eyes. “What does that mean?”

  Joni shook her head. “Not good.”

  A cry ripped from her throat, and the people around her disappeared. She stared at the worn floor tiles. She was too late. Ake might never return again. She spent the last months of their marriage miles away, cut off from him, and now…

  “Get her to the booth.”

  She sat in the stiff seat while coats and blankets encircled her. Joni appeared across from her, and grasped her limp hands.

  “Stormi. Listen to me. This is the way it is. Being a fisherman’s wife. It’s dangerous work. You’ve got to be strong.”