The Book of Eleanor (8 page)

Leaving the city proper, I saw an access road, and following signs, decided to explore the Old Port Road. I traveled along Highway 48 which took me through the port and industrial areas. Both sides of the road were dominated by huge, nondescript warehouses.

My curiosity made me want to stop, but the heavy security, highly evident, put me off. This was no place for the casual passer-by. I saw several restaurants that catered to the large industrial workforce as well as a few small convenience stores. When the long road ended, I found to my delight that I’d made a big circle and was back on Highway 100, the road that led past my home and over to the island.

 I turned right. Going past the Bookmark and other businesses at Lighthouse Square, I drove across the two-mile long Queen Isabella Causeway.

The drive across the long, regally sloping bridge had to be one of the most beautiful sights known to man. Choppy bay and ocean water, bearing the characteristic dusky, clay-based blue of South Texas waterways, beckoned on both sides while brightly colored banners on the bridge and the accompanying long fishing piers lent a festive air to the journey. I’d heard how crowded the island became during spring break, but right now, during the month before, traffic was sparse and I was across and onto the island quickly.

Gaining South Padre Island’s now familiar main street, I turned left and proceeded down the center of the island. Turning onto the road that fronted the powerful Gulf of Mexico, within minutes I was at a wide beach access behind a small thatched hotel called The Surfer’s Stay.

The hotel was only three stories, much smaller than the towering hotels on either side. It had a warm, welcoming air. I was greeted with friendly catcalls from a table full of rowdy partiers at the open-air bar on the water. I smiled and waved to them, and made my way down the sand dunes until I stood next to the battering waves.

I stood a good while, allowing the harsh ocean wind to push against me. I took a deep breath and allowed my mind to dwell on the events of the night before.

I felt cheated and angry. I couldn’t even believe that my Mary would do this to me, torture me with her love, so close but so inevitably far away. I had begun to feel hopeful that healing had a chance, even though I knew I was far from healed, but I would never forget the pain of my loss while Mary continued to haunt me.

Emptying my mind, I headed north, my sandals dangling from my fingers. I listened as gulls appeared to shout snap counts to one another before arranging into an offensive line.

The water today was a muted blue, different from the bright blue of the day before. It was amazing how the ocean could change its face and demeanor from day to day, sometimes hour to hour. I stood at the water’s edge, my eyes following the slow progress of two shrimpers far out on the horizon. I moved on, closing my eyes and savoring the wind on my face.

I suddenly felt a presence next to me and paused. Alarmed, I opened my eyes to see the scowling countenance of a young Hispanic youth. His dark eyes bored into me. He stood less than a foot away. I could smell his strong, earthy scent, even in the pounding wind.

He made strange gestures with his hands, and then grasped me by the shoulders, trying to push me down to the sand. I gasped in fear which rapidly changed to outrage. I knocked his hands away, but with a grim expression, he grabbed me yet again. He made odd grunting noises and simply would not let go. I pushed at him again and we grappled. Realizing he was stronger and would soon overpower me, I swept his legs out from under him, a technique I had learned in self-defense courses.

“What the hell are you doing? If you’ve hurt him, I’ll have your butt in jail so fast...”

I turned and saw an athletic blonde shouting and racing angrily toward me. I recoiled and lifted my hands to my face. It was the same woman who had dumped pizza on me at The Fat Mother restaurant. What would she do to me now?

It was a perfect day for a beach outing, even if only for the hour we stole from the end of the school day.

The sky was a pure pale blue with just enough cloud to make it interesting, and the sun was a golden glow on its descent toward evening. I guided the Jeep into a parking space at Billy’s beach access and quieted everyone for a quick pep talk about safety and staying together as a group. Tommy had gotten hyper on the trip over, as he always did when riding in the open-air Jeep, and I had to give him a few stern looks to calm him during my warning speech, but I think everyone got the importance of staying safe. Besides, they knew the drill from previous trips. My overprotectiveness was just that—overprotectiveness.

It was only the mobile kids with me today anyway. The wheelchair kids would be riding out with Father Sephria when he came in the van to pick these kids up for their ride home.

I had actually been hoping for some beach time all week. I think we all needed a little R and R right about now.

“Miss Angie?” Maria had fallen in step with me while the others ran ahead to chase the retreating waves.

I rested my hand on one of her slim shoulders. “Um-hmm?”

“The school is closing, isn’t it?”

Her voice was so quavery and light that I almost couldn’t discern the words. “Let’s not go there just yet, Maria.”

“I’m...”

I paused and turned her so that she faced me. “What, hon? Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Her long, dark hair hung in her face to hide the scar that marred her right cheek. My hands itched to pull back the thick hair so I could see both her eyes, but I knew that would make her uncomfortable. I took a chance, though, and laid a hand on the bare skin of her arm. My body jolted uncontrollably when I felt the cold steel of a knife against my throat. I jerked the hand away, but I had also felt her question and knew her fear.

“We’ll figure something out, Maria. You won’t have to go to regular school. I promise I won’t let that happen.” I made her see me, see my truth. “Don’t be afraid. Trust me on this.”

She nodded, and I saw a smile curve her lips. “Better watch out.”

I turned just as a shirttail full of sand landed on my sandaled feet. Tommy had talked Sally into holding out the hem of her T-shirt so he could load it with sand. They were huddling back and giggling uncontrollably.

“Tommy, I know you were the mastermind of this one,” I said as I lifted each foot and tried to shake the sand off.

“Mastermind,” he muttered behind the hands pressed to his mouth, ineffectively holding the hilarity in.

I turned my head around and glared at Sally. “Do you even know what your mother is going to do to me when she sees that shirt?”

Sally looked down as if just now realizing how peppered with sand her shirt was. She looked up and I saw a storm of tears brewing.

“Oh, no, honey. Don’t
cry
! Look, we can brush it off…”

Her chubby little hands started scrubbing at the shirt. I leaned to help.

“Oh, no,” Tommy called. “Someone’s
hurting
him!”

I whirled to see that Emilio was under attack. “Watch them,” I told Maria as I rushed to rescue Emilio.

“What the hell are you doing? If you’ve hurt him, I’ll have your butt in jail so fast...”

I took a double take. It was
her
! My future wife. I had been wondering when I would see her again. But she had thrown Emilio to the ground and was standing over him, her chest heaving. What in the world?

I took a minute to study her. Dressed in walking shorts and a sleeveless tank top, delicate leather sandals trailing from one of her hands, she was still gorgeous. She looked tired, with dark smudges under her eyes, and had an absentminded air about her.

I approached slowly and leaned over to pull Emilio up off the sand.

I stopped in my tracks and studied the delivery girl. She was different today, less severe, her unruly hair in a loosely fastened ponytail. She wore baggy khaki shorts and a crew neck shirt in navy blue. The color enhanced the depth of hue in her blue eyes. I found myself admiring the strong lines of her face.

She approached and helped the boy to his feet, then looped an arm protectively about his shoulders. She eyed me angrily. “Why are you beating up on Emilio?”

My jaw dropped. “What?
He
attacked
me
! For no good reason.”

The blonde cocked her hip and folded her arms across her chest. “Oh, I am so sure. He doesn’t know you from Adam.”

Her sarcastic tone hit a nerve. “And I don’t know him. If this is your son, and you’re going to let him wander the beach alone, maybe you should teach him how to behave.”

The blue eyes widened in surprise, then clouded so I knew my remark had hit home. Emilio, who had been following the conversation by peering intently at each of us in turn, started gesticulating wildly. I backed away. The fair woman watched him intently before she gestured in return. I realized suddenly that they were speaking in sign language. I sighed in dismay. Obviously, the youth had been trying to tell me something.

The woman shook her head and smiled. She gestured once more to Emilio then came toward me.

“Come with me,” she said, her gaze meeting mine.

A strange thing happened. As I gazed into her eyes, I felt something push my curiosity about what she was going to say clean away. I had an absurd urge to touch her, and had to clasp both hands together so I wouldn’t. I looked away, afraid of the intensity of the feelings welling in me. Ridiculous.

She turned and walked a few feet. “This is what he was warning you about.”

I followed her pointing finger and saw a long swath of jellyfish in a vertical arch that traversed my path. I would have stepped on them, especially with my eyes closed.

I glanced back at the boy. He stood, his fingers nervously flipping the hem of his shirt. I felt awful. I lifted my eyes to the woman’s and knew she realized I’d meant him no harm. I still felt compelled to explain to her. I didn’t. Instead, I moved toward the boy.

“Emilio. Forgive me. I didn’t mean to misunderstand.” I positioned myself so he could clearly see my lips. He brightened and hung his head as if much younger than his teenaged years. I tapped his chin, bringing his gaze back to mine. “Thank you for saving me from a lot of pain.”

“Well, I guess you’re not as mean as I originally thought,” the blonde said from behind me.

I stiffened. “I can show you mean, if that’s what you prefer,” I said, turning around slowly, ready for battle.

The woman held up her hands, spread apart as if to show me her good intentions. She smiled. Though miffed at her, I couldn’t prevent my own small grin in return.

“What, no pizza today?” I asked.

She blushed a fierce red and shook her head. “I am so, so sorry about that. I can be such a klutz sometimes.”

“No harm done,” I said as several young people approached us. “It was a nice welcome to the area.”

“What happened?” asked a young boy. His speech was slurred by an overlarge tongue, but I understood him easily. He peered quizzically at me through thick glasses.

“Everything’s okay, Tommy,” the blonde told him. “Emilio was trying to warn this nice lady about the jellyfish. What do we know about jellyfish, especially the blue ones?”

“Don’t touch,” said a young girl with a heavy mane of flaxen hair. She wore thick glasses as well. Her face was round and seemed to encircle a continuous smile.

“That’s right, Sally,” the woman said, nodding sagely.

I watched them, and suddenly realized that the woman had to be a teacher of special needs kids. I wondered why they were walking the beach instead of working in the classroom. Some type of field trip?

“Look, let’s try this again,” the woman said, extending her hand. “Let’s forget about the pizza and about today. Hello. Welcome to South Padre. I’m Angie June.”

I was held static by the tractor beam of her smile. It did exist—that legend of the all-American Beauty. With wisps of pale blond hair framing her face, sparkling blue eyes, and a huge smile filled with white teeth, Angie certainly fit the stereotype. On autopilot, I extended my hand even though my brain was strangely disconnected. I was totally distracted by her wholesome good looks.

“My name is Grey,” I stuttered. “Grey Graham.”

“That’s an interesting name,” she said, cocking her head to one side.

I blinked, trying to regroup my senses so I could converse intelligently. “It’s an old family name on my mother’s side. I guess it could have been worse.”

She watched me strangely. I suddenly worried that I’d said something totally different than what I’d meant to say. Just as I opened my mouth to try to salvage the situation, a shout carried to us. We turned together. I saw a short, dark-skinned Hispanic man with a thick graying mustache and a balding head rushing toward us across the sand.

“Oh, no,” Angie said, cupping a hand above her eyes to shield out the sun. “That’s Father Sephria. I forgot all about him.” She turned back to me. “We were supposed to be on our way to meet him when Emilio waylaid you.”

I nodded stupidly, only pretending to know what was going on. Angie moved to meet him, followed by the small swarm of young people. One young woman, her dark hair shielding most of her face, lingered behind, peering intently at me through her veil of hair. I smiled at her and she tucked her head shyly and moved after them, her loose shorts flapping in the wind.

I faced a real dilemma. Should I move on, or wait? Angie hadn’t said goodbye, but certainly she had more important things to do than talk with me. I cast one more glance her way, lingering on her sturdy, upright form. She was laughing with the priest as the youths milled about them. She was the picture of the perfect woman.

I dropped my gaze and moved on, carefully skirting the surf rolled jellyfish. I tried to plan, to map out my future, but thoughts of Angie’s bright blue eyes kept interfering. I smiled to myself. I was attracted to her. It felt nice, but frightening. I wasn’t ready. Guilt nagged at me. What right did I have to be attracted to such a vibrant, alive creature when my Mary was...I stopped and hot tears formed. I turned toward the ocean and allowed the wind to snatch them away.