Chapter 13

 

“That’s us,” Tom said as they announced our flight would be boarding at this time. There to see us off were the girls, as well as Joseph and Brian. For the first time I took Ava in my arms and kissed her like I wanted to all along.

“Here,” I said taking her hand.

“What’s this?” she wanted to know.

“It’s a key to a safe deposit box at the bank next to the hotel. If for some reason we’re not back here in six weeks I want you to go there and keep what’s inside for you and Evonne. It’s just a little bit of money I put away. It’s not much but I wanted to keep it here.”

It was, in fact, twelve thousand dollars that I didn’t feel comfortable carrying back into the United States. I wasn’t sure what clearing customs would be like but wasn’t up for explaining the reasons for carrying such a large amount of cash.

Our departing flight over the island took us right over Simpson Bay. Looking out the window, I could see the Scarab tied up to the dock at the marina. What a way to close a chapter.

It seemed like we had been on this venture for the past year when, in fact, it had all transpired in about six weeks’ time. I thought then I should write it all down thinking it would make for a great story.

Clearing customs in Miami was just as I suspected. They pulled both Tom and me from all the other passengers to give a more thorough going over. Both of us always seemed to get that special treatment. After explaining our reasons for coming and going from the islands, as well as a very thorough search of our bags and persons, they said we were free to go. Free to go, I thought, if they only knew.

We knew no one in Miami so decided to catch a limo from the airport that would take us to West Palm Beach. We decided to stop at Pat’s and considered leaving our bags at his place and riding the motorcycles the rest of the way to Ft. Pierce.

It was around noon on a Tuesday and I knew we would find Pat at his shop. Giving the driver directions, he made his way through the industrial park where Pat had his shop. It was in a rough section of town but Pat’s reputation and kennel of Dobermans kept the riff raff at bay.

Pulling up to the shop I could see the two large overhead doors up and a dozen or so bikes sitting out front. As we walked in the shop with bags in hand, I could see Pat with his back towards us revving the motor on a bike he was working on. We set our bags down and waited till he was satisfied with whatever he was doing and shut the motor down.

“Hey!” I yelled.

Pat turned around. He was an imposing man. At about 6’8” and a good 300 hundred pounds, you couldn’t help but notice him. At that height, he literally talked down to you. When talking, one on one with either Tom or me, Pat would lean over and put both hands on his legs just above his knees so he could look you straight in the eyes. I never asked but always sensed it was out of respect. I only noticed him doing it with people he liked or when he wanted to make a point.

Pat was excited to see us and was eager to know all about our adventure to the islands. It took about an hour and a couple beers to tell the tale. He was hanging on every word as Tom and I conveyed to him all that had transpired since we had seen him last.

“You guys are crazy,” he told us when we finished telling him all that had happened.

“I thought I was an asshole,” I said to Pat after he accused us of being crazy.

“An asshole?” he asked, then remembered our last phone conversation, “Yeah, well, you knew that,” he said laughing.

“So, how’s Linda?” I asked.

“Well, you better do something about that,” he informed me.

“What do you mean?”

“Look,” he said. “That’s between Linda and you but, as a friend, I’m telling you, you’re running out of time.”

“Running out of time?” I asked.

“Yeah, you know that biological clock thing. Women hear that old clock just ticking away.”

I knew what he was referring to. I knew well that Linda had long wanted children and she would often bring up the subject.

“So, where’s our bikes?” I asked, wanting to change the subject. I had noticed when we walked in that they were nowhere in sight.

“They’re up at your house,” Pat informed us.

“Damn,” I said. “We were hoping to ride the rest of the way home.”

“No problem,” Pat said. “I got a couple bikes here your welcome to take.”

After thinking about it, Tom and I decided to pass on the offer. Our first stateside ride would be on our own motorcycles. We loaded our bags into the back of Pat’s pickup and promised the return of his truck the following day.

Pulling into the driveway I realized neither Tom nor I had a key to the house. It was now about three thirty and Linda wouldn’t be home for a least a couple more hours. We parked the truck in the driveway and headed out back for the shade of the back porch.

Lost in conversation with Tom about our future prospects, I wasn’t aware of the time passing till I heard the sliding glass door opening and saw Linda standing on the other side. I could see that familiar smile on her face and knew that things between us were still good.

Holding her in my arms, I was again reminded why I always returned to the closest thing I knew as a home and to a woman that loved and accepted me both for what I was and was not. Again, we told our tale but, unlike our rendition to Pat, we left out the stuff I knew would scare her, as well as any mention of the two women we had met and shared time with. After catching up on all the important stuff, Linda informed us that our motorcycles were in the garage.

“I know. We stopped and talked with Pat. He mentioned that he had delivered them here.”

She then suggested that we go for a ride while she made supper for the three of us. It didn’t take anything more than that and we were both headed for the garage. Pat had done the motor work on both my Panhead and Tom’s Shovelhead so they were ready to ride.

Both motors had high mileage on them and had been in need of some attention. Now, if we decided to head out West, both bikes would be ready to go. We headed up the coast road to Vero. It afforded nice views of the ocean and, during the summer months, not much traffic.

That night over dinner, Linda talked about how happy she was we were back and about all her projects at work. She also took us outside to show us all the plants and flowers she had planted around the house. When she accused us both of not even noticing I could only say that I thought something looked different. Of all the places we had lived through the years, I had never seen her take any interest in the outside. It seemed that Linda had taken a real liking to this place and as she proudly showed us the fruits of all her labor, I couldn’t help but think that she well deserved a home of her own.

That night it seemed that Tom and Linda were doing all the talking and I was once again lost in thought. I was having to make a conscious effort to contribute to the conversation. I was thinking a lot about being at a point in my life where I would soon have to make a decision about a particular path and commit to it.

The next thing I knew Linda was suggesting I go to bed. Apparently, I had dozed off on the couch and she was gently waking me.

When I awoke the next morning I found myself alone in bed and the smell of breakfast in the air. I must have been really tired I was thinking to myself as I dressed and headed towards the kitchen. There I found Tom and Linda again in conversation.

“Don’t you guys ever get tired of talking?” I teased.

“Well, we’re not like you,” Linda quipped back. I knew exactly what she meant.

“Don’t you have to work?” I asked her.

She informed me that she had some meetings that didn’t start until noon and that she would be leaving in about an hour. As I sat down Tom got up explaining that he had places to go and people to meet. I knew, too, what that meant.

“So, what are you doing today?” Linda asked as she handed me a cup of coffee.

I told her that I had intended to arrange a meeting with Mr. Saxton so we could finalize our deal.  She wanted to know if I thought he would honor his end of the agreement. I assured her that he would but even I wasn’t totally convinced and that’s why I didn’t want any more time to lapse before meeting up with him.

As Linda slid a plate of breakfast food down in front of me she said that we needed to talk. Damn, I thought, here we go.

“About what?” I asked knowing well what she had in mind.

“Us,” she replied.

“What about us?” I asked, again acting stupid.

“Look,” she said. “You know what I mean so, stop acting stupid.”

“Ok, alright. Let’s talk”.

I had promised her that we would have this conversation the day Tom and I had left for the islands. Now that time had come.

Linda then explained that she and Tom had talked. Tom, I was thinking, what’s he got to do with this. She went on to say that in the course of their conversation last night and again this morning, Tom had asked her if a final, ‘one last time’ trip to the Black Hills was possible for him and me. Damn, he’s good, I thought.

“Look,” I said, “this Black Hills thing is all Tom’s idea.”

“Oh, so you don’t really want to go?” she asked.

“Well . . . ,” I said before being cut off.

Linda then cut through all the bullshit and for the next five minutes explained to me how it was going to be. Tom and I could go, in fact, she insisted that I go and that I enjoy myself but when I returned, it was with a decision about our future. It would be a total commitment to a long term relationship which included the start of a family.

Sitting there having it all explained to me I could sense she was dead serious this time. When she was through I knew that no ‘You know I love you’ would smooth anything over.

All I could say was “Ok, you’re right”’ and I let it go at that.

“I gotta go,” she said kissing me on top of my head as I sat there finishing my breakfast.

A couple phone calls and I was able to reach Mr. Saxton. He said he was glad to hear that we were back stateside and sounded anxious to finalize our agreement. When I asked about that afternoon, he agreed to meet and suggested a time and place. He again thanked me for our efforts.

Ironically, the place ended up being the same restaurant where it all began that night when Bruce had picked me up from a road out in the middle of Alligator Alley. As I walked inside, I could see that the booth Kevin and I sat in waiting for Bruce to return was empty. I walked over and sat down.

I was a few minutes early so I ordered up a beer and again recollected all that had transpired. With these thoughts, I noticed Mr. Saxton coming through the door of the restaurant. He saw me and headed in my direction.

“You look like you’ve been in the sun,” he said as he sat down.

I then remembered we had spent a week on André’s sailboat and our previous tans had darkened considerably.

“Ah, yes sir. André let us use his boat for a few days.”

“So,” I said, cutting through the chit chat, “how do we do this?”

“You tell me,” Mr. Saxton replied.

“Well, I was thinking cash.”

“Not a problem, but may I make a suggestion?”

He suggested getting a safe deposit box at his bank and that he would deposit the money into it. He went on to suggest that I get the box in my name then give him the key. He would then deposit the money and return the key.

I didn’t want to act mistrusting. I reasoned that if he was going to back out on the deal, he wouldn’t have even agreed to meet. I trusted him and had no doubts about his word.

“You know, sir, this is where it all began.”

I went on and told Mr. Saxton some of the story I had left out before. We sat there for a couple hours and discussed everything from the adventure to our relationships.

I explained about Kevin and how Bruce had gotten him involved in something that ended up getting him killed leaving a wife and child behind. I went on to say that I understood that Kevin had actually worked for him as a mechanic at one of his boat facilities.

With that, Mr. Saxton said he knew who I was referring to. He was totally unaware of his demise. I’m sure Bruce had not offered that up.

I said that I wanted to find a way of getting some of our reward money to Kevin’s wife. With that suggestion, Mr. Saxton looked me straight in the eyes and asked if I was serious.

“Yes, sir,” I said. “I had actually been giving it a lot of thought and now, sitting here in this same booth, I am feeling compelled to do so.”

“You know, I like you,” he said to me. “I wish my son was more like you.”

He commended me on my generous offer and then assured me that he would not only look into it but promised me that Kevin’s wife would be taken care of.

“I appreciate that,” I said.

“Anything else?” Mr. Saxton asked.

“Yes, sir, there is one other issue.”

I asked what he knew about real estate. He laughed and then explained that a large portion of his wealth had, in fact, been made in the real estate market.

“We’re renting this house up on North Hutchison Island in Ft. Pierce and I’d like to purchase the place.”

“Is it for sale?” he wanted to know.

“It’s for rent with an option to buy.”

I explained my situation with Linda and how I needed to make a decision about my future with her in the next six weeks.

“Good women are hard to find,” he told me.

“Well, I know that, but I’m thinking worst- case scenarios.”

“What do you mean by that?” he wanted to know

I explained how I wanted Linda to own the house either way, with or without me. I wanted her to have a home of her own. Again, he complimented me on my generosity.

“What are they asking for the place?”

“One hundred and sixty thousand.”

“Call me later today with the address and the realtor’s name and I’ll look into it.”

I thanked him and we agreed to meet the following day at his bank. On the way out to the parking lot I asked him about Bruce.

“Oh, he’s already back on the island,” he said shrugging his shoulders. “But, he’s alive and hopefully on a new path thanks to you.”

“Ok, see you tomorrow,” I said, then asked “What time?”

“I’ll let you know later today when you call me with the realtor’s name.”