Troubled Waters

I've always valued my self-control and being calm when others lose their shit. I value it because I had to work for it; my father kicked me out when I was young, and he was right. I was worthless. I never did hardcore drugs but I drank, and fought, and stole enough that he could see where I was headed.

I was 19 when my best friend got shot and I swore off petty theft and found a job. Had I known working would piss off my old man so much I'd have done it sooner.

Daddy was a towboat captain and worked with the same company for 27 years. Unless you work on the Mississippi River it's hard to relate to the lifestyle and what the captains really do. On my dad's boat, they worked 28 days away from home pushing groups of barges, or tows as they're called, more than 1400' long. They seem to take up the whole river when they come down but then you find they have to make room for other tows and ships and things get a little stressful. It's not an easy life and he did his best to kick me off his boat.

I knew the office liked him and I used his good name to get me the job. I'd always assumed he was still angry with me for all the years of me being a fuck up. He put me on deck 12 hours a day and woke me up every time we had to make or break tow. When my 12-hour watch was up I was sent to the engine room for another 4. After 3 hitches he asked if I was ready to quit.

"Nope. Not until I get your job." I told him sarcastically.

He didn't say anything, just turned around and went back to work. I went back to my 16 hours days, never complaining because I'll be damned if he was gonna see me cry. I was always tall and lean but deck work on a tow requires strength I didn't start out with. There's no better workout than humping cables and ratchets all day and I got bigger than I thought possible. At the end of my first year I was carrying 2 bundles of cables at a time along with all the pry bars and ratchets we'd need, no one outworked me. That was when daddy finally brought me to the wheelhouse.

"Well, if you're not gonna quit, you might as well learn to do this right." He told me.

My engine room hours stopped but were replaced with wheelhouse time, and instead of getting woken up to make and break tow I was woken up to steer difficult bends in the river or meet traffic in bad situations.

I never took his job but when I finally made Captain he told me he hated seeing me out there because he knew how hard this life was and always wanted something better for me. I couldn't picture anything better than being him, but he was right, this life is hard.

I stayed in south Louisiana, got married at 24, and thought I had life figured out; I was in love with Sarah and had a good career lined up. Our marriage started with a world of opportunities at our feet but after the kids, life became all about them. We used to play all day and go out at night, but our carefree life had slowly narrowed to a daily grind of school, homework, sleepovers, and sports.

I wasn't surprised when 2 years ago Sarah asked for a divorce and while she's no saint it was probably my doing. It wasn't even her affair that ended the marriage, I think it was really just me. I was cold at home. I'd spend my 28 days trying not to run over other boats or break up my tow and the boys they sent me for deckhands acted like everything is too hard for them. I almost lost my job for cussing out a kid who was standing in the way of a line. That line would have cut him in half and I'd told him time and time again not to stand there. In a world that's passing me by my rough ways and hard upbringing are not something people value anymore. At home I just wanted the peace and quiet I didn't find at work, and that translated into being cold.

The kids were a different story; we had 2 girls and 1 boy and they were my every joy in life. The boy and I would go hunting, while I took his sisters to gymnastics and dance classes. In fact, they were the easiest part of the divorce. I wanted joint custody and it worked out well with my schedule, so every 28 days on my way home I'd pick them up. Sarah didn't want the house because she said it was too far out of the way so I agreed to pay her half of it, along with alimony for the next ten years but then I'm free.

Honestly, its worked out for both of us. It took about a year but she seems happier now than I ever remember and I don't have to dread coming back to an unhappy house. The hardest part for me has been maintaining a social life. My friends don't come over much because I can't get out but I still try.

However, no matter how hard life had been nothing up to that point had prepared me for having a new girl on my boat. I should have known from the moment I saw a BMW SUV in our fleet full of banged up, muddy work trucks that things weren't going to go well. Myra was a college graduate from some maritime school up north. She might have been from my home town but we couldn't have been more different if we were cats and dogs.

It wasn't that she was female. I've trained 2 women, one is now a pilot on another boat and the other works in our office; Myra was different. I know the world is changing but she was a walking stereotype for why women shouldn't be on the water. The office agreed to put her on some fast track program so she didn't have to work on deck the same number of hours as the rest of us, and instead of introducing herself she told me, "I can't share a room," before I ever had a chance to say hello.

"You're sharing a room with Charlie; he works opposite of you. No one has their own room, but all the doors have locks. Enjoy your privacy." I told her flatly before we got in the crew change van.

If not for her attitude she would have been attractive. She had dark Cajun features, with black hair and an athletic build. Her deep eyes, and small arrogant nose were cute and on anyone else, the light smear of freckles across her cheeks would have been alluring.

Our first hitch was underway and the rest of the time went just as poorly; Myra complained that she couldn't lift the cables or couldn't paint because the fumes made her light-headed. By the end of the 28 days, I was on the phone with H.R. begging them to get her off my boat. I was denied.

By the second hitch I noticed Charlie and Byron doing all of Myra's work, apparently, I was alone in my disdain for her. This was a habit I should have stopped because Myra somehow convinced herself that I was just like the boys on deck and thought offhand comments would endear her to me.

I called her to the wheelhouse to watch me flank a point then make the steer on a bridge. However, she forgot that it was a work boat and not a cruise ship because she stopped to shower before coming up. I was in the middle of the flank by the time she walked in.

"I knew you missed me." She said smiling at me as she turned the corner.

"You're late, I've already started the flank. I wanted you to see the set-up too." I told her standing up and stepping away from the throttles.

"That's okay, I'll just watch you then." She told me walking up behind the captain's chair.

"Sit down. You're here to train and you can't do that by not working." I said, pointing to the chair.

Myra sat down and I started to tell her how to work the flanking rudders and how long to keep backing the engines but with her head just below mine, I could smell her fresh shampoo. She smelled clean and tropical and I found myself looking down at her hair each time I inhaled.

She was nervous and unsure about herself so I kept my commands slow but each time I paused I looked down at her hair again and couldn't stop thinking about how soft it looked and how good she smelled.

"It's not straightening up. I can't get it to turn!!" She said, her voice cracking.

She was right, it was a bad situation. I'd been so busy looking at her Godamned hair that I'd let us fall too deep in the bend.

"You have to drive out. Come ahead full, hard right rudder." I told her, knowing that even if she did it right away it might not work.

"I can't! I can't do this. You take it." She told me jumping out of the chair.

I took the controls and barely managed to get us out before we hit the bank. I can assure you it was luck and not skill that got my dumbass out.

"I can't believe you did that to me! You knew I wasn't ready." She screamed at me. Myra's watery eyes were already starting to tear up as she ran out the wheelhouse.

I didn't do it to be an ass and had she hit the bank it would have been on my license and not hers, but she was there to train and this is how I do it, for everyone. Being a Captain means having people's lives in your hands, and that means stress. Making things easy for her now and pencil whipping her training could get someone killed later on.

Wish I could tell you we found a way to work together and things improved but the only way I found her tolerable was to not be around her. Before that incident, she was at least respectful and everything was yes sir and no sir, but that degraded over time.

Unable to get her off my boat without firing her and causing myself six kinds of hell, I put her on the watch opposite of me. She could do all her training with my pilot at night.

I thought the opposite watch thing was working. Myra never worked her full 12 hours anyway, so she was always in bed by the time I got up and still there by the time I got off. In fact, life was returning to normal; I thought.

"Sam, someone came in while I was taking a shower." I heard her say behind me.

I was at the controls and coming into some traffic.

"Are you sure the door was locked?" I asked, intent to not get distracted again with her in the wheelhouse.

We had 3 common showers for the crew and each had a lock on the door but they also served as the laundry room.

"Yes I'm sure, and they weren't getting laundry either." She snapped.

"Do you know who it was?" I asked genuinely concerned.

"No, I just held the curtain tight against the wall until they left." She said, starting to calm down.

Myra obviously wasn't assaulted and while I'd like to think it was an honest mistake it wasn't something I'd tolerate either.

"I'm showering in your room from now on." She demanded. "You're not in there when I'm off and no one's going say they thought your room was the laundry."

I'd have loved to tell her, no, but it was a decent plan and she was right. What was I going to do, say no just because I didn't think of it first?

It took me all of 3 days to forget she showered in there and I walked right in my cabin looking for the log book.

"Shit, I'm sorry," I said trying to look away then slamming into the door before I could get out of the room. I didn't see her naked, she had a towel on and was looking in the mirror, but I was upset for committing the same offense that caused her to be there in the first place.

I didn't think about it again until I got off watch that night. In front of my mirror, I became acutely aware that Myra stood nude in that very spot just a couple hours ago. The memory of her bare shoulders and wet collar bone made my pulse race. I know it sounds silly to remember someone's collar bone but it exposed her neck in a way I hadn't seen. I did my best not to think of her and get some sleep but what my mind tried to hide my erection announced.

In the weeks since she'd started the other watch, I'd forgotten what she was like to be around. Myra was sitting at the galley table studying for her Coast Guard License when I walked in.

"Captain, get me a cup of tea." She told me, pointing at the stove with a pot on it. I ignored her and walked over to the coffee pot; at least she called me Captain this time.

"Fine. I'll get it myself." She said sounding put out.

When she stood I heard her book slide off the table and hit the deck but I didn't turn around to help.

"I caught you looking." She said behind me.

My face must have gone from red to purple as I remembered walking in on her the other day. However, I turned to find her still bent over reaching for the book and flashing me a snarky smile.

Angry and embarrassed I jammed the coffee pot back on the warmer and walked out. I understand why all the guys did what she wanted and a part of me wanted nothing more than to stare at her ass but I also understand childish manipulation and I don't play games.

That was 2 hitches ago and other than crew change it was the last time I saw Myra before my November Christmas party.

A boat crew becomes family after a while. Hell, you spend more time with them than you do your real family and every year I have a Christmas party for the guys who've been with me a while. It's an adult party so I drop the kids at my folk's in the morning and spend the rest of the day cooking.

Everyone started rolling in around 7 that evening. Charlie and Byron showed up with their wives in tow. After my divorce, I thought there were only 3 women worth a shit, my mother and my 2 daughters, but I'd have to put Byron's wife in that group. Vanessa was a saint for putting up with an asshole like him, fortunately for me, Byron was my kind of an asshole and we got along easily. Charlie's wife, on the other hand, was... well let's leave the number of worthwhile women at 4, but Marcie and Vanessa were best friends so you never got one without the other.

"Hey, Sam," Vanessa said coming over and giving me a hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Merry Christmas Capt." Byron stuck out his hand to shake mine but I grabbed him and gave him a hug too.

I greeted Charlie and his wife the same way.

It wasn't long after that Simon, Mark, and Ty showed up. Ty brought his wife but I didn't know her well enough to have an opinion.

"Is Scotty coming?" I asked Simon.

"I think so. He said he was gonna try to make it." Simon told me.

Scotty was our newest deckhand; a Yankee from the great lakes but I liked the kid. He was one of our hardest workers and gave a damn about the kind of job he did. Scotty had Captain written all over him.

He eventually showed up but not alone. Myra was tagging behind him.

Fuck

Myra was wearing jeans, a pink button-up shirt, and a black knee-length coat that I hope was expensive because it looked comical with all its strange angles and random zippers. Still, I'd have to admit her dark hair curling down to her shoulders was beautiful and she wore just enough make-up to highlight her freckles and lips. Myra's looks did little to change my impression of her from the last few months but I did my best to be polite and leave our work stuff on the other side of the levee.

The party went as it always did, everyone together at first eating and drinking but then the guys went outside to drink and smoke while the wives stayed inside to talk. It was never a conscious thing, I think we start talking about work and the women get bored with it. Tonight was no different and everyone started separating.

I stayed behind to dig in the back of my cabinet for the good whiskey, but when I turned around I almost elbowed Myra in the chest; she jumped back and grabbed my arm to keep it from hitting her.

The wives had all gone in the living room and the guys were outside. Myra and I were alone in the kitchen. She didn't take her hand off my arm and we stood close just looking at each other.

It's a funny thing but Myra and I had never touched, we never even shook hands and her fingers felt warm against my arm. What should have been an awkward moment felt natural and I almost put my other arm around her as a reflex when we were interrupted.

"Capt., you gonna hog all the good stuff or bring some outside for us too?" Charlie asked poking his head inside.

With the moment broken I caught my breath and walked outside. Myra followed shortly after; everyone was sitting next to the fire and she found a spot next to Scotty.

"Anybody know whatever happened with Carey?" Mark asked.

"You mean him and his little stool he used to tote around so he could see over the dash?" Ty said laughing at his joke. "Who cares? Ever since he tried to kill all of us I'm just glad he's gone."

"He wasn't that bad," I said trying to defend the little guy. "I heard he's working for a tugboat company back in the canal."

"NOT THAT BAD???" Charlie yelled, probably a little more than drunk by now. "That motherfucker would have killed us all if you hadn't got up there in time Capt."

"Well, he's gone now, so you fuckers just have me to worry about me killing you," I said, smiling.

I looked up and noticed Myra staring at me. She had an open expression that I'd never seen on her. I couldn't tell if she was challenging me or searching for something but I couldn't stop thinking about the moment in the kitchen and began wondering if it really meant something before Simon broke into my thoughts.

"Hey, Capt. Did they tell you Kevin broke your record?" Simon asked, finishing off his beer and switching to my whiskey.

"What record?" I asked confused.

"He carried 6 cables to the head of an 8 barge tow. If I remember, you only carried that down a 7 barge tow." Simon grinned, knowing I couldn't resist a challenge.

"Fuck that motherfucker, next hitch we'll see who humps more weight." I was getting drunk. I just challenged a 24-year-old mule to a lifting competition neither of us knew existed before Simon started his shit.

I looked around and saw everyone was laughing at me.

"Fuck you, Simon. I was about to throw my back out on a fucked up challenge just because you wanted to start some shit." I said finally joining the laughter.

"Besides, I like Kevin and I'd hate to see a young kid cry when this old man whipped his ass," I said smiling and trying to stand up to go get another beer.

"Oh yeah old man, you'd have beaten him," Charlie said sarcastically.

I looked up and saw Myra was looking at me again but this time she looked away when I caught her eye. I wondered what would have happened if I'd have kissed her.

Now I knew I'd had too much to drink, despite knowing I didn't like being around her I couldn't think of anything I wanted more. It was time for me to go to bed before I became stupid. When I stood I got light headed and had to take a half step to catch myself.

"You okay Capt?" Scotty asked me.

"Yeah, just had a few more than I remember. I'm going to bed before I'm not okay. Y'all feel free to stay, I'll fix some omelets in the morning with the leftover shrimp." I said turning slowly toward the house. That's when I heard the cards come out.

"Who's up for Bourre?" Bryon asked.

Bourre's a Cajun card game like spades, but unlike spades, it causes life long enemies out of brothers and mothers and can cost you a house payment if you play wrong. It's a fun game and we normally cap the pot to keep things from getting ugly but these guys are serious players and they'd been drinking a little too much.

"I don't know how to play." Scotty said.

I can smell blood in the water as well as anyone else and Scotty was hemorrhaging.

"Oh don't worry. We'll teach you." Byron told him, a grin spreading across his cheeks. This kid was about to lose a years pay and he didn't even know it.

I turned around way to fast and almost fell over.

"I'm gonna stake Scotty and you better cap the pot at 5 dollars," I said, trying to protect our greenhorn.

The guys would have no problem taking all of Scotty's money but they'd be a lot less willing to take it out of my pocket.

"That's bullshit Capt," Simon complained. "Let the boy stand for himself."

"It's fine by me," Byron said. "Go get your money. I been wantin some of that Capt money anyway."

"Y'all just use my chips. I'll cover what he loses and he can keep what he wins."

Scotty knew better than to get into the argument and just sat quietly.

Without any more arguments from the guys, I went inside and passed out on my bed.