Mary and Alvin Ch. 36

Someone was approaching him in the gathering gloom. He turned to face them.

Jack Faulkner stopped a few feet away and stood with his hands on his hips.

"I missed you, Dad," Alvin said. He hesitated. "I should never have left, maybe if I'd been here..."

"You had to leave, son. If you didn't leave, you couldn't have come back.The coming back was the important part."

They walked together to the other side of the landing, where they could look across at Faulkner's Wharf. There was a schooner tied to the dock and a small figure was climbing its rigging.

"That girl's a pisser, ain't she?" Jack asked.

"Not a little girl no more," Alvin said.

"You know that she'll take care of everything after you're gone, right?"

"She's been running the wharf a while now."

"Not the wharf...everything. That little acorn grew up a mighty oak. You've known that since the day she fished that boy out of the ocean." He threw his head back and laughed. "And then she made him her man. The girl's a corker, all right."

Alvin watched Bonita work the rigging for minute, then turned to his father. "So, how did I do, Dad?"

Jack grinned. "You done a good bit better than alright, son."

Alvin came awake. The room was dark, except for the soft light of the bedside lamp. Hannah was sitting by the bed reading, and leaned forward when she saw his eyes open.

"How are you feeling, Papa?" she asked.

"Tired. But alright, I guess. What are you reading, pumpkin?"

Hannah showed him the book and he laughed.

"The Princess and the Sailor. How many times have you read that?"

"I lost count a long time ago."

Hannah turned to the beginning of the book and began to read aloud. She read to her father for more than an hour.

Mary came into the bedroom in her nightgown and robe. "Let's let Papa get some sleep now, sweetie," she said to Hannah.

Hannah nodded and stood up. "I love you, Papa," she said, kissing his cheek.

"I love you too, honey."

Hannah left and Mary came to the bedside. She leaned down and tucked the blankets up around Alvin's shoulders. She kissed him and said, "Don't forget you have your buzzer if you need anything."

"Wait a minute," he said, struggling to sit up, "Where are you going?"

"To sleep on the couch."

"The hell you are. I come home to sleep in my own bed, with my wife."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

Alvin raised the covers. "You ever known me to not want you in bed next to me?"

"Okay, baby," she said, smiling. She slipped off her robe and turned out the lamp.

Alvin held out his arms and she snuggled into them. They laid together, side by side. Mary stroked his face. "You know how much I love you?" she asked.

"If it's anything like how much I love you, it's a wicked big portion." He pulled her body closer to his. "Kiss me," he said.

She gave him a kiss and leaned back.

"Not like that," he said, "I want to kiss like we kissed when we first met."

Mary touched her lips to his and he parted them with his tongue. They kissed with a lifetime's depth of passion.

Mary sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. "I still love how you touch me, sweetheart."

"Have I kept my promise?" he asked her.

"What promise is that?"

"The one I gave you in Acadia."

It took Mary a moment to realize that that he was referring to his promise that if she married him, they would have a long life together. She kissed his cheek and said, "Baby, you have given me a hundred lifetimes worth of love and joy."

Alvin nodded and laid his head on the pillow. In a few moments he was asleep.

He dreamed of snow. It was swirling all around him as he stood in darkness. In the distance, he saw a spot of light and walked toward it. As he drew closer, he saw that it came from an old fashioned street lamp. There was someone beneath it, their back to him. They were leaning on a rail, looking out over a stretch of water, where the light danced on gentle waves.

They turned as he approached and he saw a pretty young woman with long, flowing blonde hair.

"Hello, Alvin," she said, "It's been a long time."

"Bonnie..."

He stepped forward to embrace her, but something stopped him. There was an invisible barrier between them.

"I've missed you," he told her.

"I know, honey, but things turned out alright, didn't they?"

He nodded. "Bonnie, I think it's almost time..."

"I know, Alvin, don't be afraid."

"I'm not, not really. But I have to tell you..."

"I know, honey."

"I can't go with you."

She looked out over the water, and then back at him. "There are a million billion worlds, Alvin. In some you go with me, in some you go with her, in some you go alone. There were lives we spent together for all our days, and lives where we never met. You got lucky in this one, sweetheart. We had our time together, and then you found her. No one says you can only have one angel."

She raised her eyes to the sky. A single snowflake was drifting down. She looked back at Alvin and smiled. "You did a good job with the girls," she said, "Tell them I love them. And tell Charlotte that I listened to every word."

The snowflake hovered in front of her face. She stuck out her tongue. The snowflake landed on it, and she vanished.

Early morning light was creeping into the room when Alvin woke up. Mary was sleeping on her back beside him. In the dim illumination, the small lines around the corners of her mouth and under her eyes were invisible. Her face looked exactly as it had when they first met. She stirred, but did not awaken. He watched her sleep, hoping that she would open her eyes, just so he could look into them again. Eventually, he fell asleep again himself.

Mary woke to the sound of the rooster crowing. From downstairs she smelled coffee and heard a soft murmur of voices. She sat up and looked down at Alvin. He was so still that she laid her hand on his chest to see if he was breathing.

He stirred and opened his eyes. He saw a silver haired woman sitting next to him and for a moment, wondered who she was. She turned and he looked into the eyes that had enchanted him for so long.

"Mary..." he said in a voice that was little more than a breath.

She leaned down, resting her head against his. "I'm here, my love."

"I dreamed..."

She raised her head and looked into his eyes. "What did you dream, love?"

"I dreamed I saw a beautiful girl on a bicycle. Most beautiful girl I ever saw."

"It wasn't a dream. You did see her, sweetheart."

"Yes, I did. I saw her."

"And you took her sailing and before she even got off the boat she was in love with you."

"And I loved her."

"Yes, sweetheart. And you took her to the top of Cadillac Mountain and you asked her to marry you, and she said yes."

"She said yes. I remember. I thought she was an angel."

"And she still loves you, and she will love you forever."

He looked into her eyes and squeezed her hand. The corners of his mouth turned up in a grin. "Well, alright then," he said. He closed his eyes, took a long ragged breath, and was still.

EPILOGUE Sail On, Silvergirl

Mary Winslow went for a bicycle ride.

Septembers were warmer than they used to be, but she buttoned on a cardigan before she left the house. She was prone to chills lately.

She stopped at the shelf by the door and touched the carved wooden box that held the spoonful of ash. Every time she left the house in the last twenty years she had stopped, laid her hand on the box and told him how much she loved him. Each time, a memory came to her; the way he looked when he stood at the wheel of his boat, the way his hand felt on her flesh, the way the corners of his eyes wrinkled when he laughed.

Today, for some reason, she was thinking of his funeral as she stepped out on to the porch.

The grove had been packed with mourners. It seemed like most of the town was there. There were relatives from his mother's family whom Mary had never met, some all the way from Canada. Sandy Pierce came up from Massachusetts. Robbie and Carmella flew in from California.

The ceremony was simple. Theo and Omar had assembled the small stage on which she and Alvin were married. Danni stood and thanked everyone for coming, and then Hannah took the stage and gave a beautiful eulogy. Mary was so proud of her, wondering at the courage and fortitude it must have taken for her to stand and speak of the love she had for her father, the love she shared with everyone there. When Jennifer tried to follow her, she could not speak, and sat back down in tears.

Rachel read from John Masefield's poem Sea Fever.

I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide

Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied

Charlotte and Alvy carried their guitars to the stage, and sang a heartbreaking duet of Bridge Over Troubled Water, and then Danni thanked everyone again.

"There is a saying in the Jewish community," she told them, "When someone speaks of the dead, we respond with the phrase, 'May their memory be a blessing'. May Alvin's memory be a blessing to us all, for the rest of our days."

When the crowd had cleared, a smaller group made the short trip to the wharf. Mary boarded SeaJay, along with Bonita and Jamie, Jennifer and Danni, Charlotte and Seth, Hannah and Omar, and Tim and Theo. It was standing room only on the deck, but Mary sat at the stern, cradling Alvin's urn in her lap. Bonita started the engine and took them slowly through the harbor and out into the bay.

She let out the main sail and caught a wind. They glided along in silence, the only sound the flapping of the sail. When the land had shrunk to a dark line in the distance, Bonita turned the wheel and the sail drooped. They were soon becalmed, rocking gently on the quietly lapping waves.

Mary raised her head and saw that everyone was looking at her.

"I have given a lot of thought to what I should say," she said quietly, "But all I want to do is tell him that I love him."

"Tell him for all of us," Hannah said.

Mary nodded and turned to face the water. She uncapped the urn and held it up near her face. "We love you, Alvin, forever and ever." She held the urn at arm's length and slowly poured the ashes on the waves, then handed it to Jamie. She reached behind her neck and unfastened the chain that held the green pendant Alvin had made from the sea glass she had found on Lincolnville Beach so many years ago. She dropped it into the water and said, "Take my heart with you."

Her memories were interrupted by a cheerful voice, calling, "Morning, Grandma!"

She looked up and saw Jeannie poking her head out of the loft window.

"Good morning, sweet girl. Aren't you going to work today?"

"No," Jeannie said, "I don't have any face to face meetings, so I'm going to work from home."

"Okay. Well, I'm going to ride into town. Your mom and I are meeting for lunch."

"Don't push yourself too hard, Grandma."

"If I get tired, I'll turn on the battery."

"Okay. Have a good time, Grandma. I love you."

"I love you too, darling."

Mary mounted her bike and pedaled into the driveway. She saw Jennifer and Omar leaning on the fence of the alpaca pasture. She waved to them and they waved back. At the bottom of the drive she waited as a line of cars went by. There was so much more traffic now, since they built those apartment buildings down the road. When it was clear, she crossed the road and began to ride along the shoulder.

She passed the spot where she had seen the fox, so many years ago, on the day she helped Jennifer and Danni paint their new house. It had been more than fifty years, and though she knew the creature was long dead, every time she walked or rode past that spot, some small part of her hoped she might see it again.

Her route into town was nearly all downhill, and it was easy biking, gliding more than pedaling. Still, she knew it was likely to wear her out.

Tourist season seemed to last longer every year, and the traffic grew heavy as she got nearer to town. She rode past condominiums where there had once been fields of wildflowers, and new houses were going up where stands of pine had lined the road. As she approached the waterfront, though, there was a comfortable familiarity to the scenery. The weathered sheds, the boats standing on spindly jacks, the piles of lobster traps and buoys all looked as they had when she'd first seen them. Even the High Tide looked the same, at least from the outside. She had never gone back without Alvin.

Faulkner's Wharf hadn't changed much either. The little diner wore a fresh coat of paint, and there was a nice new sign, but as Mary turned into the sloping driveway, it could have been that first time, all over again.

Bonita's pickup truck was parked in front of the boathouse. Her two newfies, Venus and Mars, were sleeping in the bed. She loves those big dogs, Mary thought. She smiled remembering the day Alvin brought Buster and Moosie home for the girls.

The dogs woke up and watched her as she braked her bike and dismounted, but they did not bark. Mary leaned the bike next to the office door and went inside.

Bonita was sitting at what Mary would always think of as Alvin's desk. She imagined that Bonita probably thought of it that way herself. She looked up and smiled when Mary entered.

"Hey, I was going to call you later. How are you this morning? You look kind of tired."

"No, I'm fine," Mary said, sitting at the other desk. "Maybe a little winded from my ride."

"Well, if you want, I can toss your bike in the back of the truck and drive you home when you're ready."

"Maybe. Hannah is going to meet me here for lunch."

She noticed that Bonita was holding Danni's badge, unconsciously rubbing her thumb across it. The badge had become a talisman for her, Mary noticed that she always held it when she had a decision to make or needed to discuss a serious subject.

In all the years since Alvin had died, there was only one moment when Mary had been glad that he was not beside her, and that was on that dreary November day when she had gotten the news about Danni. As strong as he was, it might have broken him.

She had only been retired from the sheriff's department for a few months. Although she was no longer on active duty, she continued to work for the department part time, transporting prisoners or running other errands.

She had made a trip to Skowhegan to deliver a box of evidence. It had been drizzling all day. The temperature was just above freezing, and the pavement was icy in patches. A car had stalled trying to climb the winding road up Dixmont Mountain. Danni was driving downhill, on her way home, when she saw it. She stopped and pulled over to help. There was an elderly couple in the car, on their way to a doctor's appointment in Bangor. The husband got out to talk to Danni. As she walked toward him, a logging truck came over the top of the hill, hit black ice and slowly slid sideways as it came down the slope. It flipped on its side and sent its load of massive logs rolling down the roadbed. The wife, though terribly injured, survived. "The deputy stood there," she told the accident investigators, "and held up her hands like she was protecting us, like she thought she could stop them." Like she was guarding the basketball net, Mary thought. She still remembered what Sheriff Ramirez said at the memorial service; that "it took a dozen trees to knock her down."

Jennifer slept in Mary's bed that night, crying herself to sleep in her arms. The next night, she dragged the mattress from the guest room into her old bedroom. She never slept in the little house by the pond again. It sat empty for nearly a year, until Bonita and Jamie moved into it.

Mary watched Bonita handling her mother's badge. Dear Danielle, she thought, so strong, yet so tender. May her memory be a blessing.

"So, was there something you wanted to talk about?" she asked Bonita.

"Yeah. Christopher."

Charlotte and Seth's son had spent each of the past five summers in Maine, working at the wharf. This year, he had brought his boyfriend, Duncan, with him. They had returned to college in Pennsylvania a week earlier.

"What about him?" Mary asked.

Bonita swiveled in her chair and sat with her elbows on her knees. "Well, me and him had a talk before he left."

"And?"

"He's wicked smart and good with a boat. And Duncan is even better. I told them that I would talk to you about hiring them to help manage the wharf when they finish school."

"Have you discussed this with the other partners?"

"I already asked Andy, and Theo would stick his dick in a wasp's nest if you said it was a good idea."

Mary chuckled. "I don't think I'll tell him that, but point taken. You seem very concerned about this though. It's still a couple of years away."

Bonita shrugged. "I want to make sure I'm not the last Faulkner to run this wharf."

Mary nodded sympathetically. Alvin had said virtually those same words when he told her that he was handing management of the family business to Bonita.

"I suspect you'll still be running the wharf for a long, long time, but it sounds like a good idea," she said, rising from her chair. "I'm going to go sit on his bench. Do you want me to call Hannah and ask her to bring you something for lunch?"

"No thanks, Jamie is hauling a boat down to Rockland. He's going to bring back Taco Bell."

"Alright, honey." She walked to the door, then turned back.

"Bonita, he'd be very proud of you right now. And Mama Danni would too."

"Thanks. I hope so."

Mary opened the door, then stopped. "I'm very proud of you."

"I love you, Mama Mary."

Mary smiled. Bonita did not know that years earlier, with the approval of Alvin's three daughters, she had written her will, and bequeathed all of what had been Alvin's interest in the wharf to her. Nor did she know that she had also obtained codicils from Andy and Theo, granting Bonita sole authority in managing it. The wharf would be hers. She had earned it many times over.

Mary stopped at the back of the truck and spent a few minutes petting the dogs, then walked along the wharf past where SeaJay was tied in her berth, slowly bobbing with the tide. For a brief instant, Mary was sure that she saw Alvin standing on the deck, smiling, beckoning her. The image faded and she walked to the end of the wharf.

Hannah and Bonita had bought a granite bench and installed it there, facing out across the harbor toward the open bay. On its back was carved a single word.

Papa.

She sat down, feeling slightly out of breath. The cool stone felt soothing beneath her. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. The salty scent of the sea air brought back a vivid memory. She was standing on the deck of SeaJay, under a sky that seemed overcrowded with stars. Alvin stood before her and held out his hands. She took them, as soft country music began to play.

Could I have this dance for the rest of my life?

"Mom? Are you okay?"

Mary came out of her reverie and looked up. Hannah was standing in front of her, holding a brown paper bag.

"I'm fine, honey, just daydreaming."

Hannah sat down next to her mother. "You always do when you sit here."

"It's his bench, I can't help thinking about him."

Hannah looked out across the water. "I know. I can't either."

She opened the bag and took out two trays of sushi and two bottles of iced tea. Mary took the lid from her tray while Hannah found two sets of chopsticks in her purse.

"I talked to Charlotte this morning," Hannah said as they ate their lunch.

"Where are they today?"

"Malta."

Mary smiled. "Its funny that your father could never get her on a boat, and now they take cruises all over the world."

"I asked her once about the cruises and she said something that I couldn't make sense of. She said she had to go see the world because she is a white duck."