Silken Tide Page 5

  On an overcast Saturday morning, abandonment was the catalyst for insecurity that carved a damaging rut through Mark’s heart. He was five years old and the clouds hung so low that morning that it seemed possible to pull one from the sky. He had woken up that morning to find his father sitting alone on the top step of the front porch, seeming to watch the rise and fall of the ocean. Mark had lowered himself next to his father and they sat in silence. After several minutes, his father wrapped his arm around Mark and pulled him closer to his side.

  “She left and she isn’t coming back, son.”

  There was only one she in their lives: Mark’s mother. He remembered looking up at his father in desperation. He thought if he stared at his father long enough, he would change his mind about what he had just told Mark. But he could tell by his father’s unwavering gaze that there was no other truth. She was gone. She was not returning. Ever. Mark buried his face in his father’s chest. His shoulders heaved and his hot tears soaked his father’s flannel shirt. Hours had passed and even though there was no cry left in him, Mark had stayed put in his arms. Mark’s father was strong and steady on that fateful morning; he didn’t shed a tear. No one was there for Mark’s father. He had never used Mark’s shoulder to cry on. Not once. He also had never let another woman into his life.

  When Mark was older, his father had revealed to him that his mother had left town with a passing tourist. Just like that, she had packed up her all of her belongings and was gone. The only thing that she left behind was a lonely man holding a broken-hearted little boy. Mark never saw his mother again. He had come to understand that a woman had the ability to rip a man’s heart out and bring him to his knees. More importantly, Mark vowed to never be a victim to a woman’s deceitful ways. From that point on, Mark lived his life by a creed that he would never stray from: Women; they can’t be trusted. Ever.

  Mark balled his fists at his side. He was infuriated that he was about to hop aboard a craft named after a woman who didn’t think anything of deserting her family. Why after all this time had his father not changed the name of his boat? The only thing keeping him from marching back up the pier, never to return, was his promise to his father. Just then, a familiar voice bellowed from the deck of the boat.

  “Well, well, well. Look who traded in his fancy suits for some fishermen gear.” Jeremy snickered. His Maine accent was as thick as Mark’s father’s.

  Mark knew Jeremy from as far back as he could remember. They grew up together in the neighborhoods of Silk Cove and had always been in competition with one another. When Mark left for New York, Jeremy had agreed to work aboard Mark’s father’s boat. He had been working with him ever since. Mark’s jaw clenched. He wasn’t about to let Jeremy get away with any insolent behavior, especially if they would be working together every day. Plus, he wasn’t in the mood for his shit. He was going to have to make a stand, or risk getting walked over every day on the docks. Mark pushed out his chest and walked toward the vessel.

  “You’re just jealous because I make this look good, Jeremy.” Mark climbed aboard the boat.

  “Knock it off, you two,” Mark’s father said as he boarded the boat and walked to the front.

  “Well, around here good looks don’t catch lobster,” Jeremy said while he wound a rope around his arm.

  “Is that right?” Mark smirked.

  “Yeah, that’s right.”

  “I said, be quiet.” His father’s voice held an edge of annoyance, as he sat in the wheelhouse.

  The engine of the boat roared to a start and the deck vibrated under Mark’s feet. The boat began to pull away from the pier and Mark stumbled backward slightly. Relief washed over Mark when he was able to steady himself on the side of the boat. After regaining his footing, he looked up to find Jeremy smiling and shaking his head. Mark’s blood boiled as he tried to obey his father’s orders, but Jeremy’s sardonic grin was almost more than he could bear.

  “You sure you’re ready for this, city boy? You’re actually going to have to get your hands dirty to make a living around here.” Jeremy put his thumbs behind the straps of his bibs.

  Mark ran his hand along the side of the boat and walked across the deck toward him. And he didn’t stop until he was nose to nose with Jeremy.

  “Here’s the thing, Jeremy. At the end of the day, I’ll clean up nice and get to go back to the city. But you, you’ll be stuck here for the rest of your life on this boat. And you can’t scrub hard enough to get the smell of that stinking bait off your skin.”

  Without warning, the boat surged forward. Mark tried to widen his stance but it was too late. He staggered sideways and tumbled over the side of the boat. The chilly seawater quickly filled his rubber boots and engulfed his bibs. Mark abandoned his galoshes and fought against the heaviness of his soaked clothing to push his way to the top. When he broke the surface, fatigued and gasping for air, he found Jeremy standing on deck doubled over in laughter. Just then, his father appeared at the side of the boat and shot Jeremy a look of disapproval.

  “Don’t you have work to do?” his father asked Jeremy.

  “Yes, sir.” Jeremy averted his eyes and moved away from the side of the boat.

  His father glared after Jeremy for a few moments before looking back at Mark. Then, he rested his forearms on the side of the boat and clasped his hands together. Mark looked up at him, the salty seawater burning his eyes as it ran down his face. He held Mark’s gaze for what seemed like an eternity.

  “Are you ready?” His father tilted his head and raised his eyebrows.

  “Yes, sir.” Mark shivered.

  Just when Mark thought that he might sink from exhaustion, his father leaned over the side and outstretched his arm. With a strong hand, his father guided him to the boarding ladder. Mark stood on the deck shuddering uncontrollably as his father wrapped a blanket around him. He gathered the courage to look into his father’s eyes, and in an instant he realized that he had done more than just challenge Jeremy in a duel of egos. He had disrespected the very way of living that had put food on the table and had kept a roof over their head while Mark was growing up. But most of all, he had mocked his father’s existence. He had insulted his father’s fabric. The heft of his soaked clothing felt like a feather compared to the lead vest of guilt that settled on Mark’s shoulders. His father walked away and Mark hung his head in shame.

  Once again, the engine roared to a start and Mark held fast to the rails of the boat. They pulled further from the bay and joined Silk Cove’s morning rush hour traffic. Fishing boats of all sizes sailed off in different directions, waving to each other before disappearing into the mist. As if on cue the fog lifted, revealing hundreds of different colored buoys scattered in the ocean. Suddenly, Mark caught a glimpse of something else bobbing up and down in the rippling water. A seal. Then, there was another. And another. If Mark didn’t know any better, he would have sworn that they were circling the boat.

  “Holy shit, Jim. Look at all the seals out here! I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many before.” Jeremy’s voice struggled to be heard above the clatter of the engine.

  When Mark glanced at his father, his shoulders seemed to tense and his hands seemed to squeeze the steering wheel of the boat. Certainly, an overabundance of seals wouldn’t trouble his father. When Mark narrowed his eyes to take a closer look, one of the sleek creatures glided through the water and swam along the side of the boat. Mark became entranced as the seal dipped in and out of the waves. The being seemed to stare at him, as if it were trying to tell him something. Mark found himself leaning slightly over the edge of the rails trying to listen. Suddenly, the engine cut and the boat drifted adjacent to a string of blue and orange buoys. Mark blinked his eyes and took a deep breath.

  “What’s the matter, son?” His father was at his side.

  “I think I’m just tired,” Mark said.

  “Well, you better snap out of it. It’s time to get to work, you hear?”

  Mark nodded.

  “Jeremy! Le
t’s pull ’em up!”

  When Mark tried to follow him to the end of the boat, his father rested his hand on his shoulder.

  “Jeremy and I are pulling the cages. You’re baiting the traps today, son.”

  He stood speechless as his father continued to the other side of the boat. Jeremy looked over his shoulder and snorted at Mark, before pulling the first cage from the sea.

  Chapter 8

  When his father’s boat docked at the pier that evening and the crates full of lobster were unloaded, Mark was grateful for one thing: racquetball. Yes, racquetball. If Mark had not pounded that ball against a wall night after night after a long day at the office, working aboard his father’s boat would have surely killed him. Instead, working aboard his father’s boat merely kicked the shit out him. Mark’s shoulders ached and his legs felt as if they would fall off his body. He was wet. He was tired. The putrid stench of bait seemed to emanate from his skin. And he would have to do it all again tomorrow. As Mark disembarked the boat, he heard his father’s voice resound from behind him.

  “I’ll meet you at the truck, Mark. Just give me a few minutes.”

  “No, that’s okay. I’ll walk.” The truth was he didn’t know how far his weary legs would carry him, but he needed time to clear his head.

  “Well, hold up a minute then.”

  His father got off the boat and walked up the dock. He stood in front of Mark with his hands on his hips. “We’ll meet same time tomorrow. Try your best to get a good night’s rest. It’s dangerous to be tired out there.”

  “I know, Dad. I will.”

  “And this is for you.” His father dug his hand into his pocket, pulled out some money, and handed it to Mark.

  “Wait a minute, Dad. I don’t know that I deserve this.”

  “Around here, if you work hard, you get paid. Simple as that. See you later at the house.” His father patted him on the shoulder and made his way back to the boat.

  Mark hiked his way up the pier and down the overgrown roadway leading back into town. Several trucks with fishermen leaving the docks for the day drove past. Mark did his best to keep his head down and keep walking. He felt like all of Silk Cove witnessed his father’s unique way of disciplining him that day. Then again, he was pretty sure that his humiliation was a secret between him and the dozens of seals that surrounded the boat. About the time that he finally made it into town, Mark wished that he had taken his father up on his offer for a ride home. Just when he thought he would have to sit on the sidewalk to take a rest, he looked up and saw Bonnie’s straight ahead. He took a deep breath and trudged across the street and through the parking lot to the front door.

  As he pushed open the door, Mark was surprised to find the diner empty. Maybe it was better that way. The fewer fishermen he had to look in the eye that afternoon the better. He slid into the booth furthest from the door, propped his elbows on the table and brought his hands to his face. Moments later, he heard what sounded like a plastic menu sliding across the table. Then he caught a sweet, familiar voice.

  “Back so soon?”

  When Mark slid his hands down his face and looked up, he found Jessica standing before him at the booth. Wisps of her auburn hair fell all around her delicate face and her green eyes seemed to shimmer in the sun of the late day.

  “Well, Jessica. There aren’t a lot of choices in Silk Cove.”

  “Damn. I was hoping you would say that you were back for the service.” She smiled and put her hands on her hips. “So, what do ya want?”

  “Do you treat all your customers like that?” Mark asked.

  “Well, Mark. Like you said, they don’t have a lot of choices.”

  Mark grinned and opened the menu. He pretended to read while he tried to figure out what to say next. He wasn’t used to a woman who fired back at him so easily. Usually, women just nodded and agreed with everything he said. Mark liked her. She challenged him.

  “Let’s see.” He cleared his throat. “You don’t happen to have a pastrami sandwich on rye, do you?”

  “Sorry, we don’t.”

  “Surprise me, then.” He folded the menu and handed it back to her.

  His eyes were immediately drawn to her rear when she turned and walked from the booth. He couldn’t help himself. The events of the day seemed to ease from his shoulders, as he anxiously awaited her return. A few minutes later, Jessica pushed through the double doors of the kitchen carrying a plate in one hand and glass of iced tea in the other. Mark sat back in his seat as she placed the platter in front of him. When he looked down to see what she had brought him, he smiled at the irony. A lobster roll. She sat in the booth across from him and all at once, Mark felt self-conscious of his appearance. He knew he looked like hell and he smelled worse. Mark studied her face. She didn’t seem to be bothered.

  “So, how was your first day on the boat?” She propped her chin in her hand.

  Mark opened his mouth, but the words to describe his day didn’t come. He simply sighed and bit into his roll.

  “That good, huh?” She laughed.

  “What’s with the paintbrush?” he asked, intentionally trying to change the topic of conversation.

  “Oh.” She smiled, reaching behind her head to touch the brush that was nestled in her upswept hair. “I’m an artist.”

  “Nice. So, what do you paint?”

  “Anything that inspires me. If I didn’t paint, I would go crazy.”

  “Wow, sounds serious.”

  “It’s definitely a passion. I moved to Portland a couple years back and tried to open my own art gallery.”

  “What happened?”

  “It didn’t work out. But, it hasn’t stopped me from doing what I love.”

  Silence settled between the two and when Mark looked up from his dish, he caught Jessica staring at him. He wiped his mouth and smiled at her. “What is it?” he asked.

  “Oh, it’s nothing.” Jessica’s face reddened. She brought her fingers to her mouth to cover her sheepish smile.

  “Tell me.” Mark leaned forward and pushed his plate aside.

  “I just can’t believe you came back here alone.”

  “Alone?”

  “Yes, you know. Without a woman.”

  “Why does that surprise you?” he asked.

  “I just figured some beautiful woman would have scooped you up by now. That’s all.”

  “You’re forgetting, Jess. I have to want to be scooped up.”

  “Eh, you say that. But women have ways.”

  “That’s exactly why I’m not attached.” Mark balled up his napkin and tossed it on top of his plate.

  “Oh, I see.”

  “Don’t get me wrong. I’ve been with a lot of women. I just chose not to be in a relationship.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Monogamy is boring.”

  “So, what you’re saying is that you just go around having meaningless sex with a lot of women.”

  “No, I’m saying that I prefer to keep things exciting. Fresh. A little wild.” He smirked.

  “So, tell me. Do you think there is a woman out there that can tame your wild heart?”

  “Hasn’t happened yet.” Mark took a sip of his tea.

  Jessica sat back in the booth and her shoulders seemed to slump. Mark had always been brutally honest with women. He made no false pretenses. He found that it was easier that way, especially when it was time to move on to the next. But for some reason, he felt the overwhelming urge to not disappoint Jessica.

  “Or maybe she just wasn’t in New York.” Mark took another sip of his tea, without taking his eyes off her.

  Suddenly, the bell on the door chimed and Mark looked over his shoulder. It was Jeremy. He eyed Mark suspiciously before taking a seat at the counter. Jessica’s eyes seemed to hold an edge of disappointment at the interruption. She stood from her seat and smoothed her apron.

  “I have to get back to work. Are you going to the Summer Festival on Saturday?”

  “Summer Festiva
l?”

  “Don’t you remember? They have the Summer Festival every year under the pavilion.”

  “That’s right. Guess I’ve been away too long.”

  “So, I’ll see you there then.”

  “Are you asking me out on a date, Jessica?” Mark narrowed his eyes and grinned.

  “I don’t know about a date.” She tapped her chin playfully. “But I’ll definitely save you a dance.”

  Jessica smiled, tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, and walked away. Mark studied her movements as she made her way to wait on Jeremy. She carried herself with a confidence that Mark found irresistible. Once behind the counter, she greeted Jeremy and took a pad of paper from her apron. Just as she pulled a pen from her pocket, she looked out of the corner of her eye at Mark. Her full lips pulled up at the corners into the sexiest smile Mark had ever seen. He stared right back and returned the smile. Yes, he would be back. As long as she was here, he would be back.

  After he showered and scrubbed the odor of bait off his skin, Mark settled into bed early that evening. Mark laid his head down and stared out of his open window. The sky took on a purplish hue and the curtains billowed into his room on the soft night breeze. He could hear the roll of the ocean. Just when the hypnotic rhythm of the waves beyond his open window lulled him to a place between consciousness and dream, the whispers began. It seemed as if they had multiplied by thousands and they sounded even more fervent than the night before. Mark kept his eyes closed and concentrated on the low drone just outside his bedroom window. But, their voices were too indistinct to understand. Gradually, the whispers seemed to recede like the ebbing tide. He focused with all of his might, as if paying them all of his attention would bring them back. Like a calm before a storm, an eerie silence filled Mark’s room. Then without warning, a breathy voice swirled in through his window and seemed to circle his bed. The voice was clear and there was no mistaking what it said.