Compass Rose Part 23

She used to do this sort of thing and then fly away. Now she felt like a ghost of herself-there was her body, and she couldn't get back into it.

She used to do this sort of thing and go home laughing, laughing at how she'd made a man lurch out of his well-tailored life, at how the hand that knotted his tie and signed the letters on his desk had trembled to touch her.

Now she was the one lurched out of her life. The body down there was enjoying the aftereffects.

He sat up and ran his hands through his hair. Had he been asleep? Or had he watched her tugging her bicycle suit back on? He got up and went down the hall. Of course, he knew where the bathroom was, he'd worked on it, he'd carried the armoire up the stairs. She'd been his boss.

That should have done it.

She heard the toilet flush, the faucet run, his hands splashing water. What a ridiculous set of sounds to pay attention to. But apparently not for her nerve ends. When she heard his footsteps in the hall, her breath caught in her chest and she couldn't stop the whir of what would happen next.

Part Three.

chapter sixty-six.

Here it was well into spring, pretty near official summer, and it didn't feel like it to her. She felt as tight-packed as unturned earth. She'd been busy enough-got the house in order; put the woolens away; repainted Rose's boat and revarnished the oars, since d.i.c.k kept putting that off; got the tomato vines staked.

It was more than just being by herself, doing and making lists to do more. What she was doing didn't jibe with what the rest of them were up to. She wanted them all back in the house, and at the same time she couldn't pull back from being at odds with them. Tom with his get-rich-quick ideas, Charlie sticking with Deirdre. d.i.c.k going off to the bank, buzzing with the same desperate energy as when he was building the boat but more dangerous now that he had more to put at risk.

They'd been pulled together in the house when Charlie was here and Tom brought Rose to visit. It made her wish for winter again.

d.i.c.k had come back from the bank, sat down at the kitchen table, and said, "They wouldn't make a loan on Spartina. Just on the house. I should've kept my mouth shut, but I told them that the last time a hurricane came by, Spartina just needed some paint, it was the house needed fixing. I told them I built both, I'm the one ought to know. They think the house and lot are worth something. They're worth something because of what Jack Aldrich has done at Sawtooth. And it's not so much the house, it's the lot. Funny d.a.m.n world where it's not my work-it's someone else's work next door that makes them hand over their money."

May had said, "Well, a boat is more like a car. It goes down as soon as you drive it off the lot." She added, "I mean, that's how they think," but it was too late. Of course, she saw how d.i.c.k was insulted, how what he'd put his mind to and what he'd made with his hands and put to use for sixteen years got weighed on a scale in a bank office and barely made it tip. It wasn't until now, with d.i.c.k five days out, that what she herself felt rose up in her. She felt slighted. She didn't expect anyone up at the bank to know anything much about her house, but as offhand as you please, d.i.c.k weighed the house as less than his boat. Just another thing he'd made out of wood when he had time to spare. Put the shingles on and go out to sea again. She was the one who felt every inch of it in her fingertips.

If there was a balance between the two of them, her house had to weigh as much as his boat.

She wished she wasn't alone now, now that she was finally delving into herself, turning over what she'd kept buried. She'd been reproaching herself for having driven Charlie away, for being cranky with Tom ... She'd been worrying that that was why she felt like a stony field. What she turned up now was that she didn't forgive d.i.c.k for driving to Boston without her. And clinging to that-she wasn't sure just how-was that d.i.c.k got Charlie to go out on Spartina with him. They didn't make peace here in this house, not here where she lived, where she'd got over her pain, where she'd let them see that she'd come to love Rose. d.i.c.k had taken Charlie where d.i.c.k was in command, where d.i.c.k could forget everything but the sea and hope that Charlie would melt into that forgetfulness with him.

And now d.i.c.k had gone and put her house at risk. He'd got Tom looking at the accounts, gone off to Mr. Aldrich's bank-got himself mixed up with all that machinery of invisible money. And then put out to sea without another word. At least he knew what he was doing out there. Though this time, as if to show how tangled up he'd got, he'd taken Mr. Aldrich's son along-not that that would make a difference if he couldn't make a bank payment.

She stayed angry, fiercely angry, until midday. She took a mattock and dug a slit trench just outside the wire fence around the garden. She buried a band of chicken wire in it. Something, likely a groundhog, had been getting under the fence. She took some pleasure in thinking of his frustration. He might end up cutting his paw or getting a claw stuck.

Then she was alone again, sliding off the crest of her anger into the trough. She thought of calling Phoebe, but Phoebe was in a tizzy over Eddie and Walt's going at each other. And even if Phoebe was smart about real estate, Mr. Aldrich cast a spell on her. Mary Scanlon was more down-to-earth about Mr. Aldrich, but even if it was her day off, she'd be up to something with her new boyfriend.

Spring was getting into everyone's bones but hers.

She wished that Deirdre O'Malley didn't set her teeth on edge. If Deirdre wasn't so impossible, she could've helped with all this; n.o.body said she didn't have brains. Maybe Deirdre would grow out of being stuck on herself.

May called Elsie. She said, "I was just wondering if you talked to your brother-in-law. He came by-"

"No, but I just talked to Sally. She's worried sick. How long has Spartina been out?"

"Five days."

"Jack Junior was supposed to send a radio message; Sally made him promise."

"Well, d.i.c.k doesn't like to get on the radio till he's homeward bound. Doesn't want the other boats knowing just where he's working."

"I suppose I could tell her that. She just asked Jack to call the Coast Guard station, but he said to wait. What did he say when he came by?"

"That wasn't today, it was a while back. About mortgages and the like."

"Oh." Elsie paused. "So you're not calling about ... Okay, I see. And you're right, that's probably something to worry about, but just now Jack and Sally are on the subject of Jack Junior. And you're right, I did say I'd do something, and I will. I suppose I could tell Sally you're not worried. And about d.i.c.k not using his radio. You don't know if there could be a storm out there that we don't know about here? I mean, they're out, what, two hundred, three hundred miles?"

"That's where the shelf drops off, but d.i.c.k gets out there and follows the edge. Or he could take a detour if he thinks he might spot a swordfish. If Sally needs to keep busy, she could call Captain Teixeira. He's at home, but Bom Sonho is out, so he'd know what the weather's doing." May immediately regretted saying "If Sally needs to keep busy." She remembered standing right where she was now with this same phone in her hand when she heard about Charlie. She said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said-"

"No, I understand. And you're right. Sally would be better off talking to Captain Teixeira. All she's doing now is getting furious at Jack. I mean, Jack pretty much ordered Jack Junior to do this. Jack's got a thick hide, but she might say something sharp enough ... And then if it turns out nothing's wrong, he'll be insufferable. G.o.d, family life."

May liked Elsie's voice, liked that last sigh. She wondered what it would be like to have Elsie as a friend, worrying about her the way she worried about her sister. And they could talk about Rose. May thought she'd always be grateful to Phoebe for driving her to Boston, but when Phoebe zigged and zagged she wasn't as good at it as Elsie. And Elsie didn't need as much help about how things worked. Phoebe came back to herself more often, all that talk about some old beau. And then posing for Mr. Salviatti's statue. May felt guilty. She'd call Phoebe right after this, see how Phoebe was doing with Eddie and Walt.

"Look," Elsie said. "I'd better get back to Sally. I haven't forgotten about Jack and what he might be up to. I'll give you a call. And maybe we'll see each other at Rose's play. You're awfully good to go three times. I'm afraid I had a little fit after the first night. Did Rose say anything?"

"No. It seemed to me she was fine. You'd have thought it might go to her head, but she was just as steady as if she'd been doing it all her life. The second night was just as good. She was, I don't know, bouncier. You know how she acted the maid's part-kind of sharp-tongued and sa.s.sy? The second night was more like sweet and sa.s.sy. She sounded like Mary Scanlon when she sings those Irish songs and puts on her brogue."

"You mean when Rose was talking? She did it in an Irish accent?"

"Just when she was pretending to be the maid. When she was being herself-I mean, herself in the play-she sounded even sw.a.n.kier. Like Mr. Aldrich if he were a girl."

Elsie laughed. She said, "Now, there's a picture."

May hadn't meant to be funny, but she was pleased she got Elsie to laugh.

After that phone call May went out to the garden again. She pulled weeds until she filled a bushel basket; she made a hole in the compost pile and buried the weeds deep enough so their roots would be too hot to do anything but rot into black earth. She didn't know the science of it, not exactly how the microbes made the old leaves and the green weeds and garbage so hot, but she knew how to manage it, get it working so it dissolved not just her vegetable peels but eggsh.e.l.ls and fish bones-and even some of d.i.c.k's bait when it got too rotten-into crumbly soil that smelled sweet.

When Tom showed up May was still out in the garden. He said, "I've been trying to call." Then he just stood there, sliding his hands on the top of his pant legs. He finally said, "Charlie's coming over; I called him and he's coming over."

May said, "What for?" There was a dazzle of light in her eyes when she jerked her head.

Tom said, "It's probably going to be all right. Bom Sonho's on her way, and it's still light. The Coast Guard got a fix on the distress signal. Bom Sonho's closest; she'll get there faster than the Coast Guard. They're pretty far out. Captain Teixeira's on the radio with Bom Sonho. They were hauling pots when the Coast Guard radioed to see if anyone was close. They just cut the line and put a buoy on it. They're on their way."

"What happened?"

"They don't know. That's the thing, Spartina got on the mayday frequency-but when Bom Sonho switched to their working frequency, nothing. Charlie told me there's an EPRB on the dory-he said what it stands for, emergency position something. Maybe RB is radio beacon. Charlie knows."

"How cold is it out there? The water?"

"Yeah, I asked Charlie that. He says it depends where the Gulf Stream is today. But they've got the dory. They've got survival suits. And look-it could just be they've lost power or fouled their rudder. Charlie said they can set off the EPRB and it doesn't mean they abandoned ship."

"Let's go inside." May knew d.i.c.k wouldn't send a distress signal if the engine quit. He'd be below working on it for a long time before he sent a distress signal.

When they got to the kitchen, Tom said, "Captain Teixeira says I can bring you over, be right there while he's on his radio."

"I should get Rose," May said. "Do you know where Rose is? I just talked to Elsie on the phone. It didn't sound like Rose was there."

"Elsie's with her sister," Tom said. "They just got to the dock; that's where I talked to Captain Teixeira. I don't know how they know-Captain Teixeira, maybe. He and Elsie are pretty tight. They went into Captain Teixeira's radio shack."

May thought it would be like a circus over there. d.i.c.k would hate it if he found out.

Charlie's car pulled in. May went onto the front porch. She said, "Tom told me. You better go listen in with Captain Teixeira. Call me as soon as you know something. Tom, you can go with him or you can stay here. I'd just as soon be here, where I can keep busy."

She'd said those very words not two hours ago, and now they were a judgment on her.

Tom looked uncertain. May said, "Or here's what you could do. You go on up to Rose's school. I think they're using the auditorium to get the Sawtooth show ready. Rose'd like it if you're with her."

The boys left. May went into the kitchen and sat by the phone. She pictured Spartina, then felt rather than saw the cold, gray distance. She thought of Captain Teixeira bowed over his radio. He'd be speaking Portuguese. She'd been unkind about how Catholics carried on, about Mr. Salviatti's angels, about Captain Teixeira's big Catholic family, but now she saw Captain Teixeira's hand holding the microphone like the priest holding that little wand he shook water out of when he blessed the fleet, and in her mind she went down on her knees before Captain Teixeira and confessed her sins, the spite and anger she'd let loose against d.i.c.k and his boat.

chapter sixty-seven.

Sally was at Elsie's door, knocking and calling; she was inside saying, "Can you come? Can you come right now? Something's happened. I called your Captain Teixeira. They said he was at the dock because something's happened. Can you come?"

On the ride over, Elsie tried to rea.s.sure Sally, but when they squeezed in behind the people in the radio shack, Elsie became alarmed at the silence. After a while the radio crackled, and there was a rush of Portuguese. Captain Teixeira turned to Charlie and said, "Bom Sonho's close. She got her own fix and the Coast Guard fix. She's close, and she's looking."

Sally said, "What's happening?"

Charlie turned. He saw Elsie, slid his eyes to Sally. "Spartina sent a distress signal. The Coast Guard sent out a call. Bom Sonho's the closest boat. She had a fix of her own when Dad called her, but she lost contact. It could just be ... it could be a couple of things. Maybe Spartina lost power." He turned back toward Captain Teixeira. He said, "I sh-should have been on board." Without looking away from the radio Captain Teixeira held Charlie's forearm and gave it a shake. Elsie understood it wasn't Spartina losing power. She hoped Sally hadn't understood.

Another silence. It seemed to Elsie to grow denser, as if compressed by everyone's thoughts. Captain Teixeira's shaking Charlie's arm was in it; Charlie's self-reproach was in it. What else was pressing through the silence? Was there reproach in Charlie's look sliding away from her? Was he thinking, Why is she here and not May? Elsie felt the silence urging her to self-reproach so she would be more cleanly prepared for bad news.

She tried to stop. She couldn't stop by herself. She leaned against Sally. No help. She imagined Sally reproaching herself for not having protected her son from Jack's notion of how to make a man of Jack Junior.

She knew hers was a superst.i.tious muddle. Her dumb pleasure in the tower room had nothing to do with what was happening at sea. What was happening at sea was physics, it had its own physics. But what was happening to her in this small room had its own physics, too, a rush of shame into the vacuum of not knowing.

Another crackle, a short sentence in Portuguese. Then four words that she could tell were counting-one, two, three, four. Captain Teixeira said to Charlie, "He sees them; they're all there. He's working her around to pick them up."

In the next silence they all moved a step closer to Captain Teixeira's broad back. At last another longer set of Portuguese sentences. Captain Teixeira answered, seemed to be giving orders. He didn't translate. Charlie said, "Did you say 'helicopter'?"

Captain Teixeira said, "Yes. They're all on board. Your father didn't have his survival suit on. The dory was stove in. They were lying across a piece of her. It was awash. Wait. I'll see if they can ask Tony." After another back-and-forth he said, "Tony's not so good, either. He unzipped his survival suit and tried to hold your father against his chest. Tony's below. They called a helicopter for your father."

Elsie heard the words. They hung suspended for a moment. Then she saw d.i.c.k, Tony clutching d.i.c.k; she felt the waves rocking them, washing over them. She felt d.i.c.k getting colder.

She heard herself cry out. She grabbed Sally's sweater, but it slipped through her hands.

When she came to, Charlie had his hand under the side of her head. He said, "Don't move yet."

Sally said, "Elsie, are you all right? Did you hit your head?"

"No," Charlie said. "It came down on my sh-shoe. The top of my shoe."

Like something to be sc.r.a.ped off, a bird dropping.

Captain Teixeira translated, "They're waiting for the helicopter. Okay, he's come to. He's groggy, but they got a good pulse. Tony's okay to stay on board. Okay. After they get d.i.c.k on the helicopter, Bom Sonho's going to haul that one line of pots, then come in."

"What?" Sally said. "Why don't they just come in?"

Captain Teixeira turned. He said, "Elsie, what happened? Lift her feet, Charlie. Put your jacket under her head and lift her feet."

Sally said, "Why don't they come in as fast as they can?"

Captain Teixeira, who'd been leaning toward Elsie, sat up straight. "Mrs. Aldrich, I thank G.o.d your son is safe. They got him in a bunk all wrapped up. He's doing good. Him and Tran and Tony. They had suits on. They got cold, but they stayed dry. I thank G.o.d Bom Sonho was close. I thank G.o.d she's a fast boat. And the men on her did the right thing. So now I think it's okay we let them earn what they got in those pots."

Charlie said, "Excuse me, Mrs. Aldrich. Can you lift her feet? I've got to call my mother."

"I'm fine," Elsie said. "I'm going to sit up."

Captain Teixeira said, "You help her, Charlie. Hold her shoulders. Is your mother alone? If she's alone, you should go to her. Not a phone call. You see how Elsie keeled over."

Elsie shut her eyes. Jesus, what else? Charlie put his hands under her shoulders and pushed her as she sat up. She leaned forward and grabbed her legs so he wouldn't have to go on touching her. She said, "I'm sorry, Charlie. Sally needed me to come."

He stood up. She heard him shake his jacket. He said, "Mom sent Tom to find Rose. If he finds her, he'll bring her back to the house. So Rose might be there. Is it okay with you if I tell her along with Mom?"

"Yes."

Sally said, "May I at least speak with my son?" Elsie was glad someone else was a problem.

"He's in a bunk, Mrs. Aldrich. The radio's in the wheelhouse. When he's on his feet, and when they're not busy, maybe there's a good time. Right now I can have someone tell him you're glad he's safe. You can say that right now into this microphone."

"Who will I be speaking to?"

"My grandson. He's Ruy Teixeira like me. And he speaks English like me."

Charlie was gone. Elsie was glad that the first words Sally said into the microphone were "thank you."

At least Sally was redeeming herself.

Elsie tried to concentrate on the hopeful news. She thought of d.i.c.k's blood warming his body, reaching his brain. She tried to think of what could comfort him for the loss of Spartina. She kept being interrupted by Charlie's scorn for her. She could have defended herself against that, she could have been unashamed of her crying out, unashamed of her graceless sprawl-if she didn't feel weakened by the echo of her crying out and sprawling in the tower room.

She got to her knees. She said to Captain Teixeira, "Spartina went down?"

"Yes."

"But d.i.c.k's going to be all right?"

"Yes. They got him warmed up. You go home. Don't drive yourself. Mrs. Aldrich, you got a car? Maybe you can drive your sister, make her take it easy. Your son's okay. Come back after a while. When Bom Sonho's steaming home, you can talk to your son."