Mary and Alvin Ch. 33

Jamie's head drooped. He set down his beer bottle and clasped his hands together in his lap. He started to speak, but stumbled on his words and took in a deep breath.

"Just talk to me," Bonita said, "I ain't judging you."

"My life is a complete shit show," he mumbled, "It has been for a long time."

"You're like, nineteen, how fucked up can it be?"

"Well, when I turned eighteen I got my inheritance, and now, yeah, I'm living in my car. What does that tell you?"

"So what happened?"

He told her of his life since his parents' deaths, and this story had the ring of truth to it.

"My aunt didn't want me. I mean, she tried her best, she wasn't abusive or anything, but I always knew she resented having me there. So, I'd run away. I ran away, like five times. One time when I was thirteen I hitchhiked all the way to Illinois before I got picked up by the cops and sent back. When I got older, I started getting high a lot. Did lousy in school, barely graduated. Got in trouble a couple of time for dumb shit."

"Then you turned eighteen and got money, and it got a lot worse."

"Oh, yeah. I basically got stoned and stayed stoned until the money was gone. I couldn't go home, my aunt wouldn't take me back. I thought about just fucking killing myself. But then, I thought about you and your grandfather, and how you risked your lives to save mine. I thought that if I killed myself, it would just prove that I was a real asshole. So, I don't know, I guess I figured all my problems started here, maybe if I came here I could sort of start over."

Bonita squeezed his shoulder. He put his hand on hers.

"So, you looking for a job, or what?" she asked.

"I guess I ought to."

"Alright, then." She stood up and brushed dirt from the back of her pants. "Come over here."

Jamie followed her as she walked over to where SeaJay rested on her stands. She switched on a pair of work lights, illuminating the side of the boat.

"You see all them barnacles on the hull?" she asked. "They all need to scraped off. Then every little hole and crack has to be resealed and then it's got to be waterproofed and varnished."

"It doesn't sound like fun."

"It ain't called fun, bub, it's called work. Any way, I can give you minimum wage, that's all, but it will keep you fed for a while."

Jamie hesitated for a few seconds, then nodded. "Okay. Thanks, Bonita."

"You get that finished, I can maybe find more work for you. For the summer, at least."

"Do you know a cheap place I can stay? Like a hostel or something?"

"We don't have nothing like that around here." She scratched her head. "Tell you what, you can stay right here."

"Where?"

"On SeaJay. The bunk is comfy and there's a galley and a head. There's showers in the public bathrooms right over at the town landing. Laundromat up on Church Street."

"I...I don't really like boats."

"It ain't gonna sink," Bonita said, regretting it immediately. "I mean, it's on dry land, you'll be safe and sound."

"If I work for you, would I have to go out on boats? I really can't deal with that."

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

Jamie took a step back and looked up at SeaJay.

"How do I get in there?"

"There's a ladder around the other side, just climb in. The electrical is hooked up, heater works if you need it. You'll be all set. During the day, Papa will be working on the engine, but you'll be working too, so that's not a problem."

"Wow. I can't thank you enough, Bonita."

"I'll feel thanked enough when we put her to sea and the hull don't leak. So, alright. I'll see you in the morning."

She walked to her motorcycle and got on. As she neared the street she looked over her shoulder and saw Jamie, watching her go. He gave a weak wave and she waved back. She gunned her motor and headed up Main Street, thinking about what he had said; that he had come to Maine because it seemed like the right place to start over. She didn't believe that. No, he came because he figured that she had saved his life once, she could probably do it again.

***

Jamie's first day of work did not go well. He was still sleeping when Alvin climbed on board SeaJay in the morning to work on the engine. Once he did finally start working, he found that scraping the hull was a filthy and tedious job. The stench of the dead crustaceans made him gag, and by lunchtime his arms and shoulders ached. The palms of his hands sprouted blisters. Worst of all, at the end of the day, Bonita looked at his work and shook her head. "This is gonna take all frickin' Summer," she said as she walked away.

The second day was even worse. He woke up with a stiff back and hands that felt as if they were on fire. He considered quitting and moving on, but as he climbed out of SeaJay's cabin, he found a bag of groceries on the deck. He looked inside and saw bacon, eggs, butter, bread, a jar of peanut butter and even a bag of chocolate chip cookies. He didn't know if it had been left by Alvin or Bonita, but he felt a sense of shame that he had considered leaving after they had been so kind to him. He went below and made himself breakfast, then finished another grueling day.

It took him a week to finish scraping the hull. The only part of the job that was pleasant was his lunch breaks, when he and Bonita would walk up to the diner and eat hot dogs or burritos together. Little by little, they got to know each other better, talking about music and comic books and video games.

He spent the next week going over the hull inch by inch, filling every crack and hole with putty. It was much easier work, and he was not so tired when he finished his shift. He began to take walks around town in the evenings. One night, he came back, just as the sun was sinking in the sky. Bonita was sitting in a folding chair outside the office door, her feet up on an empty crate.

"Where you been?" she asked him.

"Just taking a walk. It's a nice evening."

"I thought you was already in your bunk. Dude, you sleep a lot."

Jamie shrugged. "I guess I'm not used to so much physical labor."

"Yeah, well Monday is Memorial Day, so this weekend is going to get wicked busy. I might need to have you help with some other stuff."

"If it's not under the boat, I'm fine with it."

Bonita stood up and let out a sharp whistle. Lola came trotting from around the boathouse and nuzzled against Jamie.

"We were going to go up to Dairy Queen," Bonita said, "You want to come with us?"

"Sure, that would be cool."

"Come along then." She walked over to her motorcycle and got on. "You're riding bitch, though, Lola gets the sidecar."

Jamie hesitated. "We could take my car."

"Your car smells like ass, bub. Climb on."

He squeezed on to the bike behind her. As she started up the sloping drive, he wrapped his arms around her waist and held on tight.

Feeling Jamie's arms around her, Bonita could not help but think back to the day she had rescued him and how he had clung to her, weeping and shaking. She realized she was still thinking of him as that shattered child. He might be a fucked up adult now, but at least he seemed to be trying to get his shit together.

She turned into the Dairy Queen parking lot and parked. They bought Blizzards, then sat on the grass between the building and the street.

"So what do you do when you ain't working?" Bonita asked.

"I go to the library on the days it's open late. I went to the movies a couple of times. I love going to the movies, it's probably my favorite thing. The escape from real life, you know? But it sucks going alone. The best part of going to the movies is talking to your friends about it after."

Bonita nodded. "I get you, but really? I don't have a lot of friends."

"That's hard to believe."

"The people I thought were my friends in school? They were really Hannah's friends." She held out her cup for Lola to lick clean, then she stood up and tossed it in the trashcan.

"Alright bub," she said, "Let's get going."

"Back to the wharf?"

"Nope. We're going to drop Lola off at my place, then we are going to go to the movies."

***

A heat wave settled over the coast in early June. Jamie began sleeping on SeaJay's deck, hoping to catch the breeze coming off the bay, but he slept fitfully, and dragged himself wearily through the days.The heavy air under the boat, and the fumes of the varnish he was applying made him feel headachy and irritable. When he accidentally kicked over a can of varnish, he snapped, and kicked the can across the boatyard, spraying droplets in all directions. He began to sob in frustration and sank down on to a crate and held his head in his hands. He was thinking of getting up and just walking away when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"You alright, son?" Alvin asked. He handed Jamie a cold bottle of water.

Jamie shook his head. "No, not really. Is Bonita around?"

"No, I told her I'd cover for her today so she and Hannah could go up to Bangor and do some shopping."

Jamie frowned. Ever since Hannah had come home for the summer, Bonita had been spending most of her free time with her, and he was feeling left out.

"I really need to talk to her," he said.

Alvin pulled the folding chair near Jamie and sat down. "Maybe I can help you," he said.

Jamie hesitated. He took a drink of water and said, "I think maybe it's time for me to move on."

"Is this the way you've been feeling for a while, or did the notion come on you all of a sudden?"

"I don't know...I'm just hot, and tired..."

"Well, if you want to go, that's up to you, but we will be sorry to see it. And I think you'll come to regret it yourself."

"But if I..."

"Hear me out, son. I think I told you that when I was about your age, I set out for the Caribbean. That was my dream, to work boats around the islands. Jamaica, the Bahamas, the Virgin Islands. Maybe get my own charter boat someday. But my first job took me to Key West, and when I got there, I received a message."

He gestured toward the edge of the wharf. "Right over there, my dad had been rigging Henry Pinkham's sailboat. A guide cable snapped and it hit his leg like a whip. Opened his artery and he bled out, right there on the spot."

"Wow, I didn't know that. I am so sorry."

"Thank you, Jamie. But the point is, that in every boy's life there comes a moment when he is faced with a choice. And I don't just mean the choice between would I come home and take care of my family, or would I follow my boyhood dream. I mean the bigger choice. Would I live the rest of my life as a man, and accept the burden and responsibilities of being a man, or would I go through my life as a boy, putting my own dreams and desires over everything else."

Jamie shrugged. "I don't have any dreams."

"That's because we fished you out of the sea, but son, you are still lost."

"I don't know what I should do."

"Well, I can't tell you, but I will say this. Along with the burdens I took on, I received tremendous blessings. I ain't running a charter out of some tropical isle, but I doubt I'd have found more happiness than I did here."

Jamie sighed. "I don't know if I'll ever really be happy."

"I know that feeling. The trick is to open yourself up for the possibility."

Jamie mumbled something that Alvin could not make out. "What was that, son?"

"I think the most happy I have ever been is when I came here and saw Bonita."

"Oh." Alvin grinned and nodded. "I had a notion she might be a part of this."

Jamie shook his head. "She hasn't got any interest in me. Not like that."

Alvin stood up. "Well, it's up to you what you do, but there's one think you'll want to consider. Does she strike you as a woman who is interested in boys, or do you think you'd have a better chance as a man? If you want her, you're going to have to earn her."

He started to walk away, but Jamie called to him and he turned back.

"I'm going to need another can of varnish."

"I'll fetch you one from the paint locker," Alvin said. You made the right call, son, he thought.

***

Bonita ran down the path through the woods. Above her, the crows made a racket as she raced by. She rounded the bend and saw Mama Mary sitting on her bench, looking out over the beaver pond.

Mary looked up as Bonita came toward her, and although her eyes were wet, she managed to force a smile.

Bonita skidded to a stop, almost slipping on the carpet of dried leaves. She leaned down, wrapped her arms around Mary, and leaned her cheek on the top of her head.

"Mama Mary, I'm so sorry," she said, "Are you okay?"

Mary patted her on the back. "I'm alright, sweetie. Come here, sit by me."

Bonita sat next to Mary, taking her hand between hers and resting her head on her shoulder.

"Papa said you wanted a little time alone, but I couldn't help it, I had to see if you were okay."

"Thank you, Nita. I guess you could say I was ready for it. My mom was slowly fading away for a long time."

"I would go crazy if something happened to one of my moms, or to you or Papa."

Mary shook her head. "I know, I pretty much did go crazy when my dad died, and when..." Her voice trailed off.

Bonita raised her head and looked at Mary, who was staring off across the pond.

"When what?"

There was a deep sadness in Mary's eyes when she looked at Bonita and answered her. "When I lost my first baby."

Bonita was shocked. "When did that happen? I never heard about that!"

"It's not something I like to talk about." But she did. She told Bonita about her first pregnancy and how it had ended in miscarriage, and how she had sunk into a long bout of depression afterwards.

"And the worst part," she said. "was that when Alvin asked me to marry him, I made him promise that we would have a baby. You see, my first husband Wyatt wasn't interested in children. So, when I miscarried, I felt this profound sense that I had failed him, after he had fulfilled his promise. And I felt sure he couldn't love me anymore."

"Oh, my god. Papa would never stop loving you."

"I know that. And I knew it then. But, Nita, there is a big difference between what you know and what you feel. I knew in my mind that he still loved me, but that didn't stop me from sinking into a deep depression."

Bonita stroked Mary's hair and kissed her cheek.

"Please, Mama Mary," she whispered, "Don't go crazy again."

"I won't, honey. I am stronger now. My life has made me stronger. Being a mother has made me stronger." She chuckled. "Being around all you tough Mainers has made me stronger."

"So, I guess you're going to California?"

Mary nodded. "We have a flight first thing in the morning. Charlotte and Hannah are going to fly out and meet us there."

"What can I do to help?"

"Just take care of things while Papa is gone, honey."

They sat and held hands. After a few minutes, Mary said, "When you came down, I was thinking that I am an orphan now. It seems silly to be fifty years old and think of yourself as an orphan."

"It doesn't seem silly to me."

"After I lost the baby, my mom came and stayed with us for a couple of weeks. On the day before she went home, she and I sat here and she asked me if the pond froze in the winter. I told her it did, and she said that some day she and I and my children would come down here and ice skate." She began to weep. "And we never did."

Bonita took her in her arms.

"She never went ice skating," Mary said between sobs.

Bonita tightened her hold. She let Mary cry until she was cried out, then she said, "When Hannah comes home for Christmas, me and you and her will come down here and ice skate."

The crows began to caw again, and Bonita looked up to see glimpses of a figure through the brush. She patted Mary's back and she sat up. Alvin came around the bend in the trail. He hesitated for a second, but Bonita gestured for him to come ahead. Mary saw him and stood up. He stepped over to her and wrapped his arms around her as she rested her head against his chest.

Bonita stood. "I love you, Mama Mary," she said, and walked up the path. When she reached the bend, she looked back over her shoulder at Alvin and Mary, holding each other beside the glittering water of the pond. She was sorry that Jean Winslow had died, but she had never been close to her. It hurt her heart that Mama Mary was grieving. But she felt a deeper sense of sorrow, an unexplainable feeling of loss that she could not identify. As she strode back through the woods, she struggled to put it out of her mind. She was going to be too busy to fuss about her feelings. She had to take care of things while Papa was gone.

***

Jennifer and Danni were sitting on the porch swing snapping green beans and tossing them into a black enamel pot when Bonita rode her motorcycle into the yard. She shut it off and dropped the kickstand, while Lola jumped from the side car and ran across the sloping lawn, chasing a pair of Canada geese into the pond.

"She gets too close to those geese, they will give her a good peck," Jennifer said as Bonita walked toward the house.

"She's too slow to catch them," Bonita said. She sat down on the top step. Danni pushed the bushel basket of beans toward her.

"Dig in, sweetheart," she said, "You always were a champion snapper."

Bonita scooted closer to the basket and began snapping beans and tossing them into the pot. "So, how's Mama Mary doing since they come back from the funeral?" she asked, "I tried to ask Papa but he just sort of mumbled that she was alright. I reckon he would say that even if she wasn't."

"Well, you are right about that," Jennifer replied, "but she seems like she's doing okay."

"Good, because, um, we talked before they left and she told me about how she was so depressed after she had that miscarriage..."

"That was a dark time," Danni said, slowly shaking her head.

"I don't think she's been depressed like that this time," Jennifer said, "I mean, hard tellin', not knowin', but jeezum, she didn't even get out of bed some days. This is different though, it was pretty much expected."

Bonita scooped out another handful of beans. "So, there's something I wanted to talk to you guys about," she said.

"What is it, honey?" Danni asked.

She hesitated before she replied. "Well, I have been thinking a lot about what Mama Mary said about being an orphan and I remember when Grampa Bernardo died and when Gramma Maria died."

"You remember that?" Danni asked. "You were so little then."

"I remember Papa talking to Grampa Bernardo at the hospital. Anyway, I was thinking about all that, and about Jamie and what happened to his parents and well..."

"What is it, sweetie?" Jennifer asked, "What's on your mind?"

Bonita tossed her last bean into the pot. "I feel I'm really lucky that I have both of you." She took a deep breath. "But I want to know about my father."

Jennifer and Danni were silent for a moment, then Jennifer spoke. "We really don't know anything about him, Nita, he was an anonymous donor."

"We filled out a profile, that's all," Danni added, "So we could get matched with a donor who fit our criteria."

"You mean, like eye color and stuff?" Bonita asked.

"Well, yeah," Jennifer nodded, "We wanted someone who was at least sort of a close match to Danni."

"So, can I find out about him?"

"It depends," Danni said, "You can contact the agency and put in a request for information. They will contact him and ask his permission to give it to you. But if he says no, that's it."

Lola trotted up to the porch, carrying a stick in her mouth. Bonita took it from her and tossed it across the lawn.

"Alright," she said, "I think I want to do that."

Jennifer looked at Danni. "I've always been a little curious myself, what about you?"

"I've never really given it any thought," Danni said, "I mean, whoever he is, his...contribution got the job done."