by Rick Potter
"Rescued you from your ex didn't I?"
"Yeah, at least we had excitement in our marriage."
Their silence resembled strangers in an elevator. They slowed to a stop at a red light when a car with blaring music pulled up along Maddie's side. The young driver completed a solo on his air-drums, then flashed Maddie a grin. "Hey, babe. Ditch your old man. Let's go for a ride."
Maddie was always flattered when guys mistook her for being younger. She returned the young man's grin and shrugged. Sam placed the gear in neutral and revved the engine with his hands gripped tight to the steering wheel. The engine made a loud smooth hum and he hoped smoke wouldn't rise from under the hood. The man followed suit. His engine roared with deep popping sounds. "Wanna play, huh?" the man asked.
When the light turned green, both slammed their pedals. The young man's car jumped off the line, leaving strips of rubber in his rear-view mirror. Ready to turn the mini-van into a sprint dragster, Sam pounded the pedal. The mini-van froze, parked at the line. "Try taking it out of neutral," Maddie said.
Sam's quirkiness used to amuse her, but that had even faded.
They traveled a few miles farther before turning the corner of a well-manicured neighborhood. Each home mirrored the other with picket fences and flower beds. Sam had idled into the driveway between the American Elms that lined the sidewalks, when Maddie spotted two boys picking on Jake. One boy kicked Jake's bicycle, while the other boy straddled Jake laying on his back on the sidewalk. Jake's arms were pinned against the sidewalk over his head.
She kicked off her heels, and leaped from the idling car like a mother lion ready to protect her young, then heard one of the boys say, "You pussy boy, you're just like your old man." Thad Brewster, Jr., was following in his father's footsteps, as the baby fat bully of the school.
Maddie's long dark hair trailed in the breeze. "You guys are dead!"
The two boys glanced up with fear, watching Maddie come at them in her tight skirt. Without hesitation, they took off running down the street.
Maddie yelled, "I know you, Thad Brewster, Jr. Next time I see you, I'm going to cut you to pieces and boil your body parts in oil!"
"A wolf in sheep's clothing," Sam mumbled, as he stepped from the car.
Maddie offered her hand to Jake, "Are you okay?"
"Why'd you do that?" he said, brushing her hand away, embarrassed.
Unlike his father at age ten, Jake had the heart of a lion, and the conviction of an ant, two dangerous traits that made him a target for, Thad Jr. He never tattled or sought comfort after being bullied, but Sam and Maddie knew how he felt. They'd offer words of encouragement to him, and remind him, "You're the Sampson of the family."
In spite of his certain demise, Jake had the confidence to face any confrontation. Though he appeared weak and frail, and unable to defend himself, he wasn't afraid to be outspoken. It was a game he played with other kids bigger than he. He would like to see how far he could taunt them, and still escape unharmed. He was a fish tempting a hook.
When he wasn't playing in the safety of their backyard, Jake enjoyed reading one of his books on sharks. His fascination stemmed from a class field trip to an aquarium where he discovered the menacing gray-skinned predators gliding through the water in search of their next meal.
Recognizing his thirst for shark knowledge, Sam and Maddie purchased every shark book they could find. He learned about all the different species; their locations in the world; whether they were deep water or shallow water sharks; their preferred diets; and everything else there was to know. He became an expert in sharks.
Jake recognized the uneasiness with his parents. He felt it a personal duty to safeguard his father from his mother's sometimes oppressive behavior by spending more time with him. He viewed his father as an unappreciated hero.
As Jake brushed by Sam through the front door, Sam said, "Remember those self-defense moves I told you about?" Sam was a good fighter, but only in theory.
"Yeah, I didn't want to hurt them."
The scantly decorated home was a parallel to an I Love Lucy set, resembling more of a house than a home. The living room was plain and simple with no conversation pieces, or family photos. Sam switched on his tired dial-up computer resting on a table placed in front of the sliding glass doors which led into the backyard. Jake was steadying his slingshot with one eye closed, then released the leather pouch. It was a bullseye. "Hey buddy, you're getting pretty good at that," Sam complimented.
Without acknowledgement, Jake aimed and concentrated on his next shot. Similar to most boys his age, he had mastered blocking out distractions. Another bullseye. "Thanks, Dad," he said, with a proud grin.
Sam turned and watched his computer finish downloading. He thought about them being alone in the open sea. He thought about teaching Jake how to reef sails and steer, and how to read compass bearings. But it wasn't Jake he needed to prove anything to, it was Maddie. He knew once he had won her over again, Emily would soon follow. After more thought, he realized more than anything, that the person he needed to prove something to, was himself. He needed to demonstrate that he could be confident and without fear of being in the open-water again. Out of curiosity, he typed, sailboats for sale, then waited for the computer to download, again. "Where's Em?" he asked, Maddie.
She was seated on the plaid sofa facing the black screen of the Motorola TV, sorting through the day's mail, placing the junk mail between the collection of outdated Home Decoration magazines and the empty coaster rack. "Probably in her room listening to music."
Just then, Emily marched in from her bedroom with a look of determination and gripping a baseball bat.
Over the years, Emily and her mother's relationship had developed more into that of best friends. Maddie consistently complimented and encouraged Emily, telling her, "I'll be proud of you no matter what you do," words Maddie would have liked to have heard from her father.
At the age of sixteen, she resembled her mother in more ways than not. Not only had she become quick tempered, but she had adopted her taste for clothing, wearing provocative outfits that displayed her mature features. She found it sexy to display her strawberry tattoo inked below her waistline when she wore low cut pants. That little act landed her on restriction for a month, but she didn't mind. 'The tattoo is permanent, the punishment is temporary,' she had thought.
Like her mother, Emily grew a dislike for her father, developing a lack of respect for him. Since Jake sided with his father, her attitude toward him turned changed as well.
Bat in hand, Emily brushed by Sam seated at the computer and stood at the opened sliding glass door. "Keep your things out of my room you little dwarf," then heaved the bat at Jake.
Jake scrambled out of the way, then pointed and fired the empty slingshot at her. She flinched and ducked. Jake laughed. "Chicken."
"I'm gonna kill you, you brain dead embryo."
Jake puffed and blew smoke from a make believe cigarette. He knew she smoked when he snooped around her room and found a hidden pack of cigarettes with a lighter tucked inside the box. When he confronted her, she said she was holding them for a friend of hers. He didn't buy it. She glared at him, then paraded back toward her room.
"Can't you kids be civil to each other?" Maddie suggested in a calm tone, keeping her head down at the advertisement brochures.
"Tell your adopted son to stay out of my room," Emily retorted.
"Em, be nice to your brother," Sam said.
"Not by choice he is," she replied, slamming the door behind her.
###
Later that night, Sam and Maddie hugged their edges of the bed propped against the headboard. Their bedroom was as plain as the rest of the house, with only trial sized perfumes and lotions resting on a vanity, and a portable TV perched on a chest of drawers at the foot of the bed. Sam studied sailboat pictures in the magazine he purchased earlier, while Maddie stowed away in her romance novel, a ritual that replaced actual intimacy. "When was the last time we took a vaca
tion?" Sam blurted, placing the magazine on his lap.
Maddie glanced around the ceiling as if trying to find the answer hovering in the air. "Gee, let me think," she said. "Never."
"Exactly, how about we take one? It'll be good therapy for all of us," he said, remembering Brewster's comment in the teacher's lounge.
She finger-marked her page. "What brought this on?" then glanced at the cover of Sam's magazine. "Never mind."
Sam was persistent, "What do you think?"
Vivid photos of rock climbing, swimming, massages, shopping, and music raced through her mind. "You know my feelings on vacations, but maybe a cruise wouldn't be so bad." It wasn't quite the adventurous excitement she had been thinking of, but it was better than staying home all summer.
"I wasn't thinking of a cruise, per se, but rather sailing on a boat."
"Sailing? You mean like a charter boat?" She had enjoyed being on boats with her father when they went deep sea fishing.
Sam stuttered, "K-Kind of. It'll be the perfect escape for us. What do you say?"
"What about Jake's baseball season?"
"We'll be back in time."
"What about the self-defense classes Em and I are signing up for?"
"You can't postpone it for a week?"
Again, she hovered at the ceiling in search of another question. He knew she was trying to find reasons not to go, but he had prepared himself well, like a chess player plans many moves ahead.
"What about your fear of water?"
Checkmate. She had made the move that stumped him.
Sam was Jake's age when he watched his parents drown in the choppy waters of the Atlantic. He and his father decided to have his mother accompany them on their first overnighter through Chesapeake Bay to the unpredictable waters of the Atlantic Ocean on their twenty-eight-foot keelboat. His father had insisted everyone wear a life vest, but his mother was hardheaded and refused to be tied up in that, "Bulky faux of fashion."
Sam and his father navigated into the Atlantic while his mother lay on the stern bench, sunbathing. Winds had picked up to fifteen knots when his father had gone topside to reef the mainsail and raise the storm jib. Young Sam remained behind the wheel following the compass downwind. They were a couple miles from shore when his mother rose to head into the cabin to escape the sprays of the choppy waters. The mainsail line released from the winch causing the boom to swing toward her, knocking her into the water. Sam yelled, "Dad, do something!" but his father had already dove in after her.
When his father tried to grasp her flailing arms, she used her strength to climb onto him, pushing him under. When he stopped surfacing, his mother receded into the ocean's depth with him. Witnessing the power of the ocean, Sam developed a fear of open water, and hadn't been on a boat since that day.
"Fear?" he questioned. "It was more of an aversion, and I've probably outgrown it by now."
"Like not going to the beach with us, or going to the swimming pool?"
"I don't go because I'm afraid of water, I don't go because you never ask."
Maddie drifted back to the ceiling searching for her next excuse. He'd broken through her tough facade. "How much will this trip cost us?" she finally asked.
"I'll figure it out, it'll be fine."
She thought for a moment then said, "You deal with your aversion, and figure exactly how we're gonna pay for this adventure, then we'll talk. Remember, our finances are limited."
He had already figured everything out and made sure the boat prices he searched were well within their budget. Between never having used money from their home improvement account, and skimping on Christmas, both accounts had plenty of money for a downpayment on a nice ocean cruiser.
"I'll take care of everything."
She lifted her book and resumed reading.
The next morning, Sam strolled to the living room in his pajamas, and headed for his computer. Taped to the screen was a note from Maddie. It was a reminder that she and Emily were spending the day together. Maddie had promised they'd celebrate the first day of Spring Break, with shopping and pampering themselves. Over the past weeks, he heard them discussing a trip to the beauty salon, relishing in a massage, mall shopping, and ending the evening by catching a movie at the cinema. 'Hope it's in our budget,' he thought, flipping on his computer and watching Jake practice home run swings in the backyard.
Morning rolled past lunch, and Sam was still in his pajamas researching boats on the internet. Trying to keep the cost down, he searched for used boats. His search was narrowed to a forty-foot Island Packet sailboat that boasted all the amenities of their home, and was in most ways more luxurious. Best thing was, it was a Death forces sale, boat, which meant the sellers were motivated. He decided not to tell Maddie the reason why they were selling.
Sam and the boat broker, Captain Kent Poulsen, from Mango Bay Marina, in Key West, spoke several times during the morning. He assured Sam the boat was well built and not used a lot. "It'll withstand unfavorable conditions, and remain stable in the choppiest of waters," he told Sam. "And trust me, your family will appreciate that."
He answered all Sam's objections, but didn't sound like a typical salesman after a commission. In fact, he even offered to reduce it, sounding like he didn't need the money. The more they spoke, the more Sam grew comfortable, like old friends who had met up after years of not seeing each other. "You still sound hesitant," Captain Kent had told him. "What else is on your mind?"
Maddie often told Sam it was a good thing he didn't play poker, he was too easy to read.
Sam confided his concerns about Maddie's reaction when finding out what he'd done, but Captain Kent assured him he'd talk to her if needed. "I appreciate that," Sam had said. "She might listen to you."
Sam agreed to wire money for an inspection, or survey as Captain Kent referred to it. Just as Sam was about to press the send key from their Home Improvement account, a voice spoke out from over his shoulder, "What's up, Dad?"
Sam jumped, "Jakester, how long have you been standing there?"
"Not long, what are you doing?" .
"Just looking up something for a friend."
"Wanna play some catch?"
"Sure, buddy. Give me a minute to finish this and let me change. I'll meet you in the backyard."
Sam and Jake stood at opposite ends of the yard tossing the ball back and forth. Sam rehearsed various scenarios of how he'd break the news to Maddie. His only comfort was, Emily and Jake would be excited. It was the hurdle of telling Maddie that made him nervous. Jake noticed his father's lack of attention. "Is something wrong, Dad?"
To give himself piece of mind, he decided to throw the idea out to Jake. "How would you like to go on vacation this year, Jakester?"
"What about baseball season?"
That wasn't the answer Sam was hoping for. He thought Jake would jump with joy at the idea. Besides, Jake hadn't realized his talents were better displayed in the dugout, but that made him more motivated to improve.
"I know." Sam hesitated, then asked, "What if we're back in time?"
After a few more throws, Jake spoke up. "Sure, a vacation sounds like a great idea, if you promise we're back before the season starts. Where are we going?"
"It's just an idea right now. Let's keep this between you, I'd like to surprise your mother, okay buddy?"
A week slipped by without mention of a family vacation. It seemed Maddie had forgotten their conversation, and Jake had kept the secret. Maddie and Emily swam at the local college pool and had begun their kickboxing classes, while Sam concealed his refresher sailing class at the marina. He told Jake he had a friend who was moving, and his help was needed to pack boxes. Jake didn't mind, he preferred spending time in the backyard practicing baseball, and performing strategic warfare methods with his slingshot.
Sam's four day refresher sailing class went well. Not only did he learn to tie all the knots and the rules of seamanship, but he discovered water was no longer his Kryptonite, as long as he was snug in
a life vest.
Driving home from his last sailing lesson, Sam whistled, Pirates of the Caribbean. He had purchased skipper hats at the marina supply store then shopped for ingredients for the special dinner he would prepare later. His plan was to astonish them with a great meal, then wait and gather everyone on the sofa. He would reach into the bag and toss a skipper hat to each of them, then unveil photos of their new boat he'd printed from the computer. Everything was in place. He was confident this rare surprise would be the beginning of a new start for them.
Sam turned the engine off just before pulling into the driveway, then coasted the rest of the way so he wouldn't be heard. Bags in hand, he trekked to the front porch. As he cracked the door open, he heard Maddie's voice. He slinked to the edge of the dining room and peaked around the corner when he heard her say, "Survey?"
He froze in his tracks.
"Okay, a survey is an inspection, I see. All right, no problem. Yes, I'll make sure he get's it all right. Thank you... Captain Kent."
Sam heard the phone being placed on the receiver. The slow rhythmic beat of her fingernails strumming the countertop sounded like the beat of a drum during a march to the gallows. With nowhere to escape, he waited around the corner with his back against the wall. Then the sound of rushing water came from the faucet. He peeked around the corner and saw she was getting a glass of water and staring through the window. Just as he took a step across the dining room entry, he heard, "The items on your survey are completed." Her tone was nonchalant. It was the calm before the storm.
He knew she had seen him through the reflection in the window. She turned and faced him. "Anything else you want to tell me... Sam?" The only times she ever used his name was when she was being condescending when angry.
After hesitating a moment, he stuttered, "I-I can explain. What is it you don't know?"
"For starters, when are we selling this floating coffin?"
He knew there was nothing he could say to prevent her short fuse from igniting. She folded her arms. "I'm waiting."
He reached into the bag and pulled out a skipper hat. "I got you and the kids a gift." His plan was breached. Her fuse ignited.
