The Pirate Queen (29 page)

“I understand Gwennie. That’s why I can’t get her out of my head—and please don’t tell her I said that. It’s been three years since my wife died. It took me nearly that long to come out of my fog and finally buy this house, so I understand moving slowly. And I’m not the type that expects her to rearrange her life around me.” He was talking as if he had a list of things to get out. “But I know she needs to come home this weekend for your sake and her dad’s sake. So I’m going to Louisiana. Once she knows, she’ll be here with you. You watch and see if I’m not right.”

Poor Luke. Here he had the perfect opportunity to ask more from Gwennie, but instead he let her off the hook.

“All right. You go to Louisiana. But let me tell her. She should think you’re too busy to call her again.”

He opened the door for Saphora. “I like that idea.”

The Captain’s Quarters was a small bar and clubhouse for the yachters and sailors who docked along the Oriental Marina. Colored lights were strung across the front landing and along the roof’s eaves. Two torches blazed on either side of the open doors. It was a few short steps from the Marina Bistro and only a few blocks from First Community Church.

The hall held only about a hundred or so bodies, so the line to get inside was already out the door and down the landing. The social calendar in Oriental was a little spare compared to most coastal communities, making Salsa and Salsa night a hot ticket. Luke introduced Saphora to the couples in front of and behind them, the Mettingers and the Shepherds.

“Good to see you out again,” said the Shepherd woman to him. Her name was Faye.

“Saphora’s my neighbor,” Luke told her.

“We’ve been relentless in trying to get Luke out of that garage,” said Faye.

“Her husband’s very sick. At Duke,” said Luke.

“Oh, you must be the plastic surgeon’s wife,” said Faye. “How is he?”

“Have you met Bender?” asked Saphora.

“I was at church when he got so sick. You looked scared. I would
be too. I’m glad Luke dragged you here.” Faye turned to Luke. “You did a good thing, Luke.”

“I apologize. I can’t remember much about who I met at church,” said Saphora. But Faye did look familiar. “I’m sure we messed up Pastor Mims’s whole day.”

“He shortened his message. But that’s not necessarily a bad thing,” said Faye.

“Ha-ha!” Her husband, Mike, was lighting up a cigarette.

“I heard about that,” said the Mettinger woman behind them. She called herself Sassy—one of those cute names that stick on little southern girls like glue and then follow them into adulthood. “Let me tell you, there’s no better pastor than Mims. We weren’t even regular attenders, and he had a ladies’ group bringing me soup when I was so sick with the flu.”

“Now Sassy heads up the ladies’ group,” said her husband, Joe.

“Pay it forward. Isn’t that what they say?” asked Sassy.

“Pastor Mims has been there for Bender,” said Saphora. “He’s not like any preacher I’ve ever known.”

“My ears are burning.” Mims came walking across the landing from the bistro.

“They’re talking about you, Pastor,” said Joe. He got out of line and shook his hand.

“I came down here for soup. They make it for me when I don’t want to cook,” said Mims.

“I was wondering if you were coming to the dance,” said Sassy. “You ever kick up your heels, Pastor?”

“Once did.”

“You ought to come and give us ladies a spin around the floor,” said Sassy. She was laughing.

“I’ve not had my study time this week,” he said. “I’d best get back to the books.” He smiled at Saphora. “You look beautiful, Mrs. Warren.”

“Pastor, thank you for all you’ve done. I know Bender and I have cut into your time,” said Saphora.

“My time is yours, Mrs. Warren.” He excused himself a little awkwardly and continued walking down the street toward the house where he lived.

“Between Luke and Pastor Mims, it keeps me busy just trying to find women for the local bachelors,” said Sassy.

Luke turned his back to Sassy and stepped closer to the club’s door.

“Faye, tell me how long you’ve lived in Oriental,” said Saphora. She first got Faye and then Sassy talking about what led them to the Outer Banks. Sassy was making Luke feel awkward, as if he were the odd man out. Turner was just like him, hated to be dragged into singles talk led by married people. Luke was not much older than Turner but seemed to share the same bachelor’s sensibilities. He had successfully kept Gwennie a best-kept secret from the local wags.

Luke talked to another artist from town. Sassy and Faye occupied themselves with two other women interested in starting a card group.

Saphora rested against the railing, waiting for their turn to go inside. Pastor Mims continued walking down the street, the dark over Oriental’s quiet streets swallowing him whole. She wondered what had brought him to the small thoroughfares of Oriental. He was articulate and had a quick wit. He had a charm about him. She even had to admit he was good-looking and could have gone anywhere. But he stayed here shepherding his small flock along the Neuse, as if they were the most important people in the world. Then she thought about
his one paralyzed hand and how it was the first thing she noticed. She saw him in such a different light now. Come to think of it, she had not ever known a minister as well as Pastor John.

It was a curiosity how Bender’s cancer caused her to see everyone up close, like she was seeing each living soul under some psychological microscope.

Finally the line progressed and they were inside. The band was playing “Brava.” The head vocalist coaxed dancers onto the floor. “Grab a partner. Any will do.”

Luke asked, “Want to dance before it’s too crowded?” He brought his left arm up, his large hand covering hers. She brought up her elbow and it “kissed” his, as he had taught her to do during the garage dance lesson. He used his hips to move her back and then forward. He smelled like clay and shampoo. That must be the way of things with a pottery artist. He spun Saphora. She laughed, and then it was Bender taking her into the street the night of the uptown dance. He was so good-looking. She was lucky, so lucky that night, she thought. He gave her every dance. He didn’t have to do that. There were other women from campus willing to dance. But he reserved every dance for her.

She thought about how small her expectations were back then. The list for finding Mr. Wonderful was short: number one, he should be a good dancer, and number two, be wildly rich. Bender, whose life was summed up in the activity of ambitions rather than the depth of his character, was all she knew because he was all she had planned to know.

Now she could spot trouble in a person after a few minutes. But she had not passed that gift on to Gwennie, who would pass up Luke for a shallow piece of suit and slick-backed hair.

“You look millions of miles from here,” said Luke.

“I’m thinking about Gwennie,” said Saphora.

“Makes two of us,” he said.

“I just feel like she has grown up with some misconceptions about life and family. But it’s too late to twist back the parenting lens and help her with a right perspective.”

“You’ve done her proud, Saphora. Don’t beat yourself up.”

“I appreciate that, Luke. But growing up with everything at your fingertips can blind you.” The dance ended and Luke found a table, where he pulled out a chair for Saphora. A giant margarita glass in the table’s center was filled with salsa.

The Mettingers danced past. Sassy laughed in glee and winked at Saphora. Luke was so popular that they were treated like a fashionable couple. Or maybe it was the fact that they were spotted as mismatched, he the young and good-looking eccentric artist and Saphora his older sympathy date.

The extra chairs at their table filled up with the couples they had met outside on the landing. Next to them, several families had brought along their preteens for a father-daughter and mother-son dance. A server swiveled table to table enticing the guests with tapas-like skewers of southwest chicken and vegetables and bruschetta.

A small shock of black hair threaded through the dancing couples. Finally Tobias emerged, so somber that he looked sad. Jamie followed him, relieved to have found Saphora. “I made him come,” she said.

Saphora said, “Here’s a chair, Tobias. I’ve been saving it for you.”

Luke said, “I hear there’s a dance for parents and kids tonight.”

“I’m not dancing,” said Tobias. “Mom, don’t look at me like that.”

“I can show you a move that will wow the girls,” said Luke. He coaxed Tobias out of his chair and led him several feet away to practice.

“He’s ready to go home to Wilmington,” said Jamie to Saphora. “But honestly, bringing him to Oriental has brought him to life. Eddie’s been such a good friend. He doesn’t have a friend like Eddie back in Wilmington.”

“If I could, I’d wave a wand and make him well,” said Saphora.

“I’d do the same for Dr. Warren,” said Jamie, never completely losing sight of Tobias. “How is he?”

“No change.”

“Don’t give up,” said Jamie.

“I know. Same to you.”

All at once, Jamie’s pleasant smile was gone. Her eyes narrowed and she said, “Don’t look, but that woman from the motel pool is here. She’s got her eye on Tobias.” Jamie’s voice was strained.

Saphora looked anyway. “That’s not her, is it?” Tobias must have spotted her in town after the swimming pool incident and pointed her out to his mother.

“I think so.”

“He can come here if he likes, Jamie,” said Saphora. She got up out of her chair. She found Luke bent over, his hands on his knees while he explained a dance move to Tobias. She interrupted, saying, “Excuse me, but I’d like the first dance before all the girls line up and steal you away.”

Tobias’s nerve had not improved, even with a lesson from Luke. “I don’t know.”

“Give it a try,” said Luke to Tobias. “Mrs. Warren’s not so bad. She won’t step on your feet or anything.”

“Not too bad! Tobias, one dance with me and you’ll never go back to those younger girls,” said Saphora. She pushed herself between Tobias and the woman from the motel pool. Jamie was right about her.

The band played a slower tune, “Return to Me.”

“Good, Luke showed you the box step. You’ve got it right. Good for you,” said Saphora. She lowered her head so that he could spin her around. There was a little more room on the dance floor than when she and Luke had been dancing. Tobias seemed to relax. How she loved to hear him laughing! What a rapturous pair of eyes he had! As brown as pudding.

“I used to dance to this song with Dr. Warren,” she told him. “It’s from my parents’ day.”

“I’m sorry he’s in a coma,” said Tobias.

“Me too.”

“He’s the nicest doctor I’ve ever met. Even nicer than my pediatric doctor. And
he’s
nice!”

“He likes you too.”

“Why is that woman staring?” he asked. His feet got out of sync with the rhythm. But then he picked up the beat again.

“Because we look so good,” said Saphora.

“I’d better get out of here,” he said. “I know who she is.”

“Tobias, just keep on dancing,” she said. She spun again. Then she realized that the couples around them had stopped dancing altogether. As a matter of fact, several of them stared at Tobias.

Jamie came out of her chair. She was looking at her son as she had other times when she wanted to apologize to him for other people’s sorry behavior.

Luke stood next to Jamie, arms crossed in front of him. His eyes reflected a helpless inner pain.

Tobias said, “You’re a good dancer, Mrs. Warren. I’d dance with you again, but I have to go.” He said it in such a humble tone of resignation that Saphora was even more pained that he showed such grace under fire. Her ire was on the rise, of that she was certain.

Jamie had strapped on her handbag the size of luggage, the one filled with the chemicals that kept her boy alive. She met him quickly on the dance floor. “Let’s go,” she said.

“I can’t let this go on,” said Saphora.

“I’ll call you.” Jamie did not look up but kept her mother’s vigil over Tobias. She would have walked him out at that instant, never looking into the eyes of her son’s circle of accusers, except that Saphora quietly stepped onto the stage. She asked the band leader for the use of his microphone. He acquiesced and handed her his mike, stepping away, still holding his electric guitar. “I guess this is one of those elephant-in-the-room moments,” she said.

The band leader gestured for his drummer to stop playing.

“I mean, it’s one thing to be sick, like my husband. But it’s another thing to be a leper. I mean, cancer, well, that’s a heroic way to die. But how dare this little boy come into the world and into our lives with something as unheroic as AIDS. Tobias, don’t you know you’re supposed to be invisible?”

“How cruel,” one lady said.

“That’s what we’re asking of Tobias, isn’t it?” asked Saphora.

Tobias had the sort of look he had the day Bender had led him into the shower, the look of a boy accustomed to living with having his dignity stripped from him on a daily basis. Humiliation was as natural on him as the smell of clay was on Luke.