Gooseberry Island (13 page)

“Hey stranger,” Tonia said, “there’ve been rumors that you actually fell off the face of the earth. And to tell you the truth, I was starting to believe them.”

“Oh no, not at all,” Lindsey said, forcing a smile. She was at a loss for words.

Tonia smiled, too kindly. “We haven’t seen you at the Thursday Night Club for more than a month. Is there any particular reason you’ve been avoiding us?”

Lindsey shook her head and blushed, embarrassed.

“Good, then we’ll see you this Thursday?”

“Sure,” Lindsey said. “I’ll be there.”

“I hope so, Lindsey. We’ve really missed you.” As Tonia turned to leave, she offered a knowing wink.

Lindsey returned the gesture along with another fake smile and then sat for a while parked.
I just don’t want all the questions about David
, she thought, eating a handful of hot fries,
or the man bashing that’ll definitely follow.

On Thursday night, two hours and a half case of wine were already gone before anyone dared to mention David.

“Any word from him?” Sandi finally asked for all of them.

Lindsey shook her head, trying to conceal her pain over it.

“Probably for the best,” Ana commented, eliciting sour looks from everyone.

Tonia placed her hand on Lindsey’s arm. “If David comes around, then great…”

“…but you need to come out of hiding, Linds,” Courtney blurted.

“Yeah, and get back in the game,” Christine added.

They all nodded, doing their best to be supportive.

“You’re right,” Lindsey said. “You’re all right.” With the phoniest smile she’d ever worn, she downed another glass of wine.

A few long weeks passed when David decided to take the ferry to the mainland and see the ranger he respected most: Lieutenant Kevin Menker. Kevin had joined the Army, became a ranger and served for six years with pride and honor. Decorated during the war, he’d returned to Fall River to start a new life. As a first step, he’d recently graduated from the local police academy. They met at a bar to swap stories from overseas.

“I haven’t told anyone about what we experienced,” David told him, sipping his draft beer.

“And why would you?” Kevin asked, guzzling his own draft. “No one would understand anyway.” He looked at David. “You having a tough time getting past it?”

David nodded.

“Me, too,” Kevin admitted, shocking David. “There are nights I can’t sleep at all. And I’ve had my fair share of nightmares…so real that I wake up ready to kill someone.” He shook his head. “And I feel really depressed sometimes.”

“Me, too,” David said, thrilled that he wasn’t alone.

“But even if it got worse,” Kevin said, “I’d never admit to it.”

“What?” David blurted, surprised again.

“That’s right. They’d have me bounced off the force in a heartbeat if they knew.” He nodded. “And if I’m to have a shot at a normal life—a wife, kids, a house—then I need to keep it together or at least pretend I have it together.” He shrugged. “I’d rather suffer than lose my job.”

David’s heart rate increased and his breathing became shallow. His reunion with Kevin was awakening some really bad memories, playing out in feelings rather than thoughts. A strong adrenaline rush was followed by a brutal panic attack. David sat quietly at the bar and concealed it. “How’s police work after going through what we went through?” David managed to ask with an even voice.

Kevin shook his head. “Actually, it’s strange, but I feel normal when the adrenaline’s pumping hard. It’s when I’m sitting quietly on the couch that I feel like I’m going to lose my mind or crawl out of my skin.” He looked at David. “How ’bout you come with me some night on a ride along and see for yourself?”

“You serious?”

Kevin nodded. “Let’s shoot for tomorrow night.”

David arrived at the police station much earlier than he should have and waited in the deserted lobby.
Where are the police when you need them?
he thought, and chuckled to himself.

As the next shift began to arrive, the captain granted David entrance. He was waiting in the corner of the roll call room when Kevin approached. “You ready to ride, brother?”

David nodded, ignoring the mumblings from the other cops. One signed waiver later, David was ready to patrol the mean streets of Fall River, riding shotgun.

After roll call, David and Kevin stepped outside. It was a warm, clear night, with nearly a full moon in the sky. Assigned to Sector Three, four to midnight shift, David jumped in the cruiser, while Kevin conducted a brief equipment check. Once he got into the car, he turned to David. “When it’s warm out, the calls are nonstop,” he said. “Be prepared for a busy night.” He grinned. “Let’s get to work.”

David buckled up. The radio squelched once before Kevin spoke into it. “Two-zero-three to three-six-four,” he said. “Clear for calls.” As they pulled out of the station lot, he turned to David. “I’m starving. You?”

“No,” David said, “my stomach’s been giving me trouble lately.” He then sat back, as Kevin proceeded to their first stop of the night—a fast food drive-thru.
This is going to be an easy ride,
David thought.

Not three minutes into the shift, the radio began to call out and never stopped—each time beckoning for people in trouble, or others who just thought they were. “Three-six-four to two-zero-five—an elderly woman having difficulty breathing…” David expected that they’d be off in a flash.

Kevin smiled. “That’s not our sector,” he said, while one of his brother officers responded to administer the medical assistance needed.

After placing his fast food order, Kevin looked at David for an extended moment. “How you feeling right now?” he asked.

Not good at all
, David thought, but said, “Looking forward to this ride.”

“Cool,” Kevin said and swallowed down his dinner within minutes.

Driving past a few of the infamous bars in the city, Kevin looked at David and grinned. “Ever been in a bar fight?” he joked.

David chuckled. “Yeah, against a bunch of navy guys. And as I remember it, you and Billy Brodeur started the whole thing.”

Kevin laughed.

“Hey, have you heard anything from Billy?” David asked.

Kevin’s eyes lit up. “Billy Brodeur? Man, that kid’s so tough it isn’t even funny.” He shook his head. “One night, after we got back from overseas, I watched him beat the hell out of a night club bouncer twice his size. When I finally jumped in to…”

The radio called out, “Three-six-four to two-zero-three, see a female party at Border City Mills Apartments on Weaver, car break.” Kevin turned the cruiser around and they were en-route to their first call.

Upon arrival, a young girl stood beside her compact car, trembling from nerves. The car’s rear window had been smashed in. “Anything missing?” Kevin asked. She shook her head. Kevin surveyed the damage and then began the paperwork on malicious damage to a motor vehicle. While he wrote, David monitored the heavy radio traffic. The calls were coming in one after the next.
I can only imagine what a heat wave might bring
, David thought. As adrenaline rushed through his bloodstream filling him with anxiety, he also thought,
This ride along might have been a bad idea.

David was still trying to calm his breathing when Kevin finished his paperwork. “Now, where were we?” Before David could answer, his face lit up again. “Oh, yeah, good fights. Anyway, Billy beat that poor bouncer senseless, and it took me and a few other guys to make him stop.” Kevin looked at David for a reaction.

David shrugged. “We’re wired the way we’re wired, I guess?”

Kevin nodded. “True, and some of us are wired wrong.”

The radio called out again. “Twelve-year-old female, no pants, standing outside of Castle Court on North Main. Her father threw her out…” David waited for Kevin to punch the gas.

He shook his head. “Not our sector.”

“Fogland Bar, the corner of Columbia and South Main Streets. Two males fighting…” and several cruisers were dispatched to quell the violence.

The radio squelched again and a brother officer called for backup from the Sunset Hill housing project. David looked to Kevin. He nodded. “That’s a domestic dispute,” and nonchalantly returned to finish his paperwork.

David was amazed.
To Kevin, this is just another night at the office
. It was obvious that he cared, but David honestly couldn’t fathom what it might take to rattle him. And then David realized that he also felt some strange comfort in the adrenaline.
Kevin’s right. At least the anxiety makes sense when there’s something causing it.

While they drove up one street and down the next, their conversation thankfully covered subjects other than fighting. It was 2000 hours, or 8:00 p.m., when they were dispatched to a motor vehicle accident, negative injuries. The rotary blue lights illuminated the night when they arrived to find two females engaged in a heated argument. Kevin jumped out and, although he possessed both the presence and ability to force his will on most people he encountered, he chose a different tactic. He quickly de-escalated the situation, while treating both parties with respect.

Once Kevin had calmed everyone down, he surveyed the scene and quickly determined the party at fault. Evidently, the pizza delivery girl was checking house addresses when she drove head-on into another vehicle. Kevin cited the responsible party: a person who now became a harsh critic of Kevin’s chosen profession.

While Kevin did his job, David continued to monitor the radio. It was more exciting than he’d expected. As sirens wailed over the radio, an officer reported, “Three-six-four, be advised, coming in with a lockup.”

Another, “Eastern Avenue, out-of-control child, parents requesting that he be removed from the premises…”

Then, as they awaited the arrival of a tow truck, a police officer on the other side of the city was involved in a foot pursuit. From the fragments of information David could make out, two females had stolen a brown Honda Accord in Corky Row and while trying to maneuver through the narrow streets, had hit a pole and fled on foot. As David slid to the edge of his seat, a panting officer offered a description of the suspects. Seconds later, his backup arrived, and both parties were successfully apprehended.

While Kevin chuckled at David’s enthusiasm, David realized that his ex-patrol leader had chosen to submerge himself in a world of organized chaos.

At the end of the shift, without even slowing down near a donut shop, they reported back to the police station to type up all the reports—enough paper to alarm any Green Peace fundamentalist.

“Too bad for you it was a quiet night,” Kevin concluded, and David waited for his friend’s laughter. It never came.

Kevin’s serious
, David thought.
For him, this was a quiet night. No one got stabbed or shot to death. There were no rapes to investigate. Life didn’t get much better
.

On the ferry ride home, David’s head was spinning from the
quiet
night. And then the same question arose in his mind:
Where are the police when you need them?

He now knew the answer:
In some dark alley, or any place you don’t want to be. And that’s why you called for one of them in the first place.
David shook his head.
Kevin can keep it.

And then it started—shallow, labored breathing; a pounding heart and light head—another dreaded panic attack.
It’s the price I have to pay for tonight
, he told himself, and began to ride the sadistic roller coaster once again.

“Chivalry is dead,” Lindsey complained.

Courtney chuckled. “Tough commute this morning, or is the dating life starting to get to you?”

Hunched behind the office partition, Walter Brady, the summer recreation director, eavesdropped on the latest man-bashing session and smiled.

“Dating life? What dating life?” Lindsey asked. “Most guys only want one thing today, and they think that a trip through the drive-thru should be more than enough to get it.”

Courtney laughed again. “So the commute wasn’t bad, huh?” She shook her head. “I’m so glad I don’t have to deal with being single anymore.”

With a sigh, Lindsey fired up her computer and collapsed into another depressing Monday. “I’m all set with men,”she mumbled, still feeling cheated over not being with David. “I can’t wait for this summer to be over.”

It wasn’t ten o’clock when Lindsey returned from the fax machine to find a white envelope covering her keyboard. She picked it up. It was sealed, and there was no writing on it. She looked around.
No one’s watching,
she thought, and tore it open.

Juliet,

I dreamed about you last night. We were together, locked in each other’s eyes. You smiled at me, and I couldn’t help but pull you close and kiss you. You moaned once and the rest of the world disappeared. And then we made love, without ever removing a stitch of clothing. The glances, kisses and touching were so intense. I’d never felt that close to anyone. It was as if I experienced your soul, your very essence far beyond the physical world, and I finally discovered what it means to make true love. And then we undressed…I dreamed about you last night, without ever closing my eyes.

Romeo

The note had been typed and wasn’t signed.

Lindsey took in the oxygen she’d forgotten to breathe. The words had touched her soul.
David?
she wondered, but quickly dismissed the thought. She looked around again. The sounds of cogs busy at work filled the large room. She peered over the partition. “Walter, did you see anyone drop off an envelope at my desk?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t seen anyone come by here. Why?”

She half-shrugged. “Oh, nothing. I think someone might have delivered it to my desk by accident.” With a smile, she disappeared back behind the portable wall.

The day grew wings and flew by. Lindsey asked everyone in the office about the mysterious envelope. No one knew anything. Even Courtney, the woman who knew everything that went on at work, was at a loss.

Lindsey wasn’t two feet from her car when she spotted another white envelope tucked under her windshield wipers. Her heart raced as she plucked it free. There was no denying it this time. The name
Lindsey
had been typed on the front. Her trembling fingers hurried to open the prize.

My Juliet,

I’ve pictured you and I walking down a wet cobblestone street in Europe (who cares where). It’s just past dusk. The streetlights have come on. We walk past several cafes, past other couples talking and laughing. With a quick look at each other, though, we smile and silently decide not to join them. Instead, we hurry into a shop for a stick of bread, a wedge of cheese, some assorted fruit and a bottle of wine. Hand-in-hand, we hurry back to our little bungalow located just above the busy street and strip each other of our clothes. Dinner takes place while we make love, the windows to our refuge left open to allow in the breezes and the happy conversations of foreign tongues.Will you meet me there?

Romeo

Lindsey gasped and held the invitation to her chest.
David?
she thought again, but scolded herself for even allowing the thought.

Walter approached the car parked alongside hers. “Hey, did you end up finding out who that envelope belonged to?” he asked.

Lindsey’s eyes swung up to meet him. “I think so,” she whispered. “I’m pretty sure it was meant for me.” An excited squeak accompanied the word
me
.

Walter nodded and smiled. “See you in the morning,” he said and jumped into his Chevy Camaro.

“Oh, I’ll be here,” she whispered. “I’ll definitely be here.”

Lindsey arrived at work earlier than ever, only to find an unaddressed envelope sitting on her keyboard. She looked around. There was no one there and no evidence that anyone had been there earlier than she.
Strange
, she thought.

Juliet,

You light a few candles. I pour us each a glass of wine. No TV, just music—dreamy music that puts a tantric rhythm in our heads. I play with the straps on your camisole as we move together, standing, swaying. Our lips meet, my hands are now in your hair. We pass our wine glasses to the table, barely. I press myself against you and you breathe hard into my ear. We look at each other, but there is no need for words. Minds whirling, hands sweeping, lips touching everywhere, time eludes us as we feel the softness of the carpet on our knees, our backs…And then we make love without ever losing eye contact.

Romeo

She felt faint. “That’s it,” she said to no one. “I have to know who this is.”

Courtney and Lindsey spent the entire morning sifting through ambiguous clues and listing possible suspects.

Walter spent the same time watching them and sharpening his next arrow.

Lindsey hadn’t been away from her desk for five minutes before another letter appeared. With Courtney over her shoulder, she tore into it.

Juliet,

The most important thing to me is to enter into a union with a woman who will become the second half of a whole, someone who will allow me to love her without restraint and love me with the same effortless passion—you.

Romeo

Even Courtney broke out into a sweat. As the two shared a moment of breathless silence, Walter walked up behind them and handed Lindsey a single rose. “You,” he whispered.

Lindsey’s knees wobbled once, and she nearly went down.

Walter Brady was a mysterious man with looks that were extremely kind on the optic nerve. Tall, with masculine features, he had green eyes and perfect teeth. He was well built, bold and charming—the perfect catch. Lindsey swallowed hard.

They began flirting, hard. Every secret email made Lindsey feel like she was alive again.

What if I don’t live up to your expectations?
she replied.

There’s no way you can’t live up to them because they don’t exist
, he countered.

If we could have one date, what would you want to do?
she asked.

Turn it into fifty-five years
, he responded, and then turned up the heat:

Juliet,

I constantly fantasize about being with you.

Romeo

This guy’s too good to be true
, Lindsey thought and sent him another note.
When can we go out?

It was a Monday night. They were halfway through dinner when Lindsey reached across the table and grabbed Walter’s hand. “I’ve been walking around smiling a lot more lately. Thank you for that.”

He nodded.

“Where do you think this will lead?” she asked, surprising them both.

He squeezed her hand. “The clock started the moment I saw you,” he said.

Lindsey studied him and shook her head. “Why do you seem so perfect?” she asked.

He chuckled. “Not quite,” he said, shrugging. “I’m married.”

“You’re what?” It took a few moments for the first layer of shock to allow the truth in. “But you emailed me all those things,” she muttered. “How could…?”

Walter stared her straight in the eye. “And I meant every word, Lindsey.”

And it hit her. Walter Brady was deceitful and selfish, traits revealed only when the sun went in behind the clouds. Lindsey was heartbroken, though it wasn’t Walter who caused it.
I’m with the wrong Romeo
, she realized, and rage quickly replaced sorrow. “You piece of garbage,” she hissed and stood up from the table. “You think you can just play with people and…”

Walter rose to meet her. As he tried to quiet her tone with his growing pupils, he reached for her hand. “Lindsey, please. We don’t have to…”

“No!” she yelled, slapping his hand away. “You mark my words. You’ll get yours!” She tossed her linen napkin in his face and stormed away.

On the way out, David’s face appeared in her mind.
I was with the wrong Romeo
, she told herself again.

It was midday. David was perched on a barstool at Bobby’s Lounge. The place was dimly lit. Bobby LePage, a husky, unshaven barkeep, was wiping down glasses behind his bar. A talk show, dancing in and out of static, was on the tube above the bar’s long mirror. The clock read 12:45 p.m. The place was empty. David was slouched over, inebriated but free from anxiety attacks.

“Want to tell me about it?” Bobby finally asked David.

David slammed his glass on the bar, making Bobby’s eyes go wide. “Everybody’s a therapist,” David hissed. “Why don’t we just talk about another drink, okay?”

Bobby shook his head and poured another one, leaving the bottle and swiping David’s twenty-dollar bill off the bar. “Knock yourself out, partner.”

David gulped the whiskey, while Bobby returned to his glasses. “Have you seen a guy by the name of Max Essington in here?” he asked.

Bobby shook his head. “Sure, I know him. But he’s not allowed back in my joint,” he said, angrily.

“Why not?”

“Because he’s a troublemaker and a deadbeat who won’t pay his tab.” He shook his head. “And stupid me, I let him run it up because he was just back from the war.”

“Deadbeat?” David asked at nearly a roar. “Max Essington is a war hero, and I was there to witness it!”

Bobby stopped wiping down glasses and leaned his chest against the bar. “Really? Then maybe you’d like to pay that
war hero’s
bar tab?”

David shook his head. “When I see him, I’ll tell him to square up with you.”

“Yeah, you do that.”

David poured himself another shot and downed it.

An hour later, David slid into the Mustang’s driver’s seat and started the ignition. There was a pile of mail sitting on the passenger seat. He picked it up and, through hazy eyes, sifted through it. There was an envelope sent from the Disabled American Veterans. He ripped it open and began to read. “They’re looking for donations,” he said aloud and tore up the letter angrily, throwing the pieces onto the floor.

“I’ve given enough!” he screamed and threw the shifter into drive. While the first drops of rain hit the windshield, he pulled out of the parking lot and swerved into traffic.

Lindsey sat on the park bench and looked around. Gooseberry Island had always been a magical place where tourists flocked to in the summer. The community was still small enough to be quaint. Lacking any industry or technology, the stars always seemed to shine brighter here. As a result, many dreams were cast from the water’s edge, where Earth met heaven.

Lindsey tried hard to remember the details of that magical night with David, to relive those same feelings that made her feel like she was walking on air.

But I can’t feel anything anymore,
she thought.

Gray, swollen clouds were stacked high and wide, threatening the world below.
So much for dreams coming true
, she told herself.

Just then, a hurricane of wailing winds launched their attack, pounding the shore with one combination after the next. Tiny tornadoes, whirlpools of ocean water, were hovering across the sea. With warning signs of danger all around her, Lindsey remained seated and watched. And then the downpour came, hard and fast.

With sheets of rain draped over her face, Lindsey fought back a hurricane of dark emotions.
I guess I can feel something
, she thought, and began to cry for all that could have been.

David was enduring an agonizing struggle back to normality. Along the way, he’d learned,
Not all war wounds are visible, nor are they all suffered on the battlefield. War’s a state of mind, and there’s no way a man can live in two worlds at one time. Eventually, there has to be a truce.

Tragically, his brother, Max Essington, was never able to find that truce.

No one questioned that Max was having a tough time trying to heal. While in Afghanistan, he’d tried to patch up one of the many local kids who’d come across a roadside bomb and never survived the meeting. David knew that the gory memory had haunted Max terribly.

Upon their return, the rangers parted ways. The best explanation was that it actually became less painful to avoid faces that only served as reminders of a difficult time—no matter how much the people were loved behind those faces. Max was never alone in his struggle, perhaps the greatest tragedy to come out of the war. Not one of them had to suffer alone. Yet, that’s all any of them did.

David’s comrade eventually switched from alcohol to heavy drugs, surrendering to any means that might dim the nightmare and bring relief from his demons. Max fought desperately to beat them back. His son was only five when those demons finally won. When the police responded to Max’s home, they found him cold, fresh track marks peppered up and down his thirsty arm. Although Max had escaped, he left a child behind—a son—Max Jr.

A coward’s escape,
David thought, when he first got the news. When the truth settled in, though, David wept like a child who’d just abandoned all hope. To him, family wasn’t only a birth rite, contingent upon a name or blood type. Family was chosen.
And I just lost a brother
, he thought, grieving hard for it.

David stepped into Rosini and Rosini Funeral Home. Family, friends and brothers at arms filled the place. The air was cool, with a nauseating scent of carnations, mixed with cheap perfume and cologne. Soft music played from hidden speakers. Rows of folding chairs were set up to face the casket, creating an audience for Max’s final show.
He would have really hated this
, David thought, keeping his pain locked tightly behind a thick door—for the time being.