Welcome To My World (Hell Yeah!) (15 page)

She gave him a look full of hope and he found it hard to breathe.

“But, if we’re really going crazy here, I’ve always longed to scuba dive.” She threw the comment out, expecting him to laugh at her. “The ocean, the beach, the vast freedom of the continuous ebb and flow of the waves has always fascinated me. I can’t believe you’re making it possible for me to see it.”

“We’re going to have the time of our lives,” Bowie promised. Cassie didn’t know it, but he was making a list and would be calling in some favors.

“I believe you.” Chewing on her lower lip, she let her mind wander to the possibilities. Galveston. She could even sing the old Glen Campbell song by heart. “So, what’s your one thing you don’t think you’ll be able to do?” Cassie couldn’t imagine this man wanting something he couldn’t imagine obtaining.

Bowie tightened his hand on the steering wheel. The words stuck in his throat. He could say ‘seeing Cassie walk.’ But there was something else, something else she should know if… “I wish I could father a child.”

Cassie didn’t know what to say. “Bowie…” She didn’t know if he were referring to her, or what. “I…”

Bowie looked at her, anguish on his face.

“I’m sterile.”

CHAPTER NINE

“Oh, Bowie, I’m so sorry.” Cassie didn’t know what to say.

Bowie shook his head and smiled. “No worries. I accepted it a long time ago.” He let out a sigh. “Bad case of mumps when I was fourteen.”

For a while they were both silent. The truck was eating up the miles. “The turnoff to the oil rig is about three miles ahead.”

Cassie hated to ask, but they had been on the road a long time. “After you drop off the machinery, do you think we could stop for a bathroom break?”

Dang! “Sorry, baby. Of course. You should have said something.”

“No problem.” Cassie assured him. “I’m good.”

Bowie blew out a hard breath. Normally he was more considerate. “It’s been all of this interesting conversation. I just lost track of time.” 

Worried about her, Bowie didn’t wait. He stopped at the first filling station big enough to have a decent restroom. She protested, but he went with her, helping her from the truck, into her chair, and pushing it across the parking lot and into the store.

“This is the part I dislike,” she muttered. “I hate to have to ask people to take care of me.”

“You didn’t ask,” Bowie said dryly.
Let me take care of you. Oh God, please let me.
Every moment he spent with her, his determination to make her a part of his life only grew.

Grumble. Grumble. Cassie blushed, did her business and came out of the bathroom. Actually, it had been a roomy area, a nice handicapped facility. She’d had no trouble using it at all. As she washed her hands, she thought about everything she and Bowie had shared. A plethora of thoughts and emotions were clamoring in her head, logic and reason warred with the surreal happenings of the last few weeks with Bowie. The only part of her that wasn’t confused was her heart and that little sucker knew exactly what it wanted—Bowie.

“Cassie?”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Another woman, a brunette, about the same age as Cassie was washing her hands. She looked up into the mirror, startled and met Cassie’s eyes. “Is that you?”

“Yes.” She shook her head solemnly. “Just a second, Bowie. I’m fine.”

Holding her hands in the automatic dryer, the woman gave her a smirk. “Boyfriend?”

Cassie had finished and was waiting for her to exit first. Hearing Bowie Malone referred to as her boyfriend sounded odd, but right now it was correct—for the most part. “Yea, he’s sorta overprotective.”

Nodding her head as if she understood, her bathroom companion exited. Cassie couldn’t help but laugh when the lady opened the door, took one look at Bowie, shut it and turned to Cassie. “My God, he’s frickin’ gorgeous!”

An inordinate sense of pride consumed her. Facts couldn’t be denied. “Yea, he is.” When it was her turn, he was waiting right at the door with a grin on his face that clearly told Cassie he had heard every word. “Don’t get a big head.”

Bowie took the handles of her chair in hand. “Already have.” He leaned over. “Two of them, you ought to know.”

*  *  *

After leaving the trailer with his partner, Bowie and Cassie headed south into Beaumont, then turned west toward Houston. “We’ll get off I-10 at the Winnie exit and go through Crystal Beach and Gilchrist. I think you’ll like the ferry.”

Cassie’s eyes lit up. “I’m going to like all of it.”

Bowie motioned at the surroundings. “Most people don’t think this part of the world is very pretty. It’s so flat with rice paddies and crawfish farms. But I find a certain beauty in the starkness.”

They made small talk, discussing movies and television shows they both liked. It came as no surprise to Cassie that Bowie liked such shows as
Justified
or
Game of Thrones
while she liked
The Good Wife
and
Dallas
. After they went through Winnie, Bowie drew her attention to the horizon. “Look, do you see anything different?”

At first, she didn’t. And then she realized there was something different about the way the land looked in the distance. Gradually, she understood. Ahead, not too many miles, land stopped. They were heading directly for the Gulf of Mexico. An almost eerie feeling came over Cassie as she grasped that they were heading to the point where land would cease and the vast body of water would be spread out before her. She was tempted to hold her breath. They passed over the Intracoastal Canal. “Years ago, this was a draw bridge.” He pointed out barges floating beneath them and more in the distance. “This waterway is three thousand miles long. It goes along the Gulf Coast and up the Atlantic seaboard. Barges and ships can traverse without the dangers of the open sea.”

Cassie craned to see. “How deep is it?”

“Only about twelve feet,” Bowie answered. “It connects many natural waterways. Someday, I’d like to take a houseboat along its length, just to see it all for myself.”

“I can’t imagine such freedom,” Cassie whispered.

A sense of awe began to mount in Cassie, an anticipation. And when they came to a small curve, it took her a moment to realize the road was taking a westerly turn because they were at the ocean’s edge. Right on the edge. “Oh, my God!” Cassie grabbed the dash of the truck and looked out.

Bowie didn’t even hesitate. He slowed down and pulled off the road, heading directly onto the sand. “There used to be more distance between the beach and road. Hurricanes have devoured the real estate.” True enough, the distance from the highway to the rolling torrent was just about thirty feet or so.

Cassie was mesmerized. She stared and stared. The water was so blue, yet it thundered, rolling in a continuous motion, white-capped and massive. “Can I get out?”

“Sure, it’s a pretty warm day.” Bowie went and retrieved her wheelchair and helped her into it. She was squirming like a little kid, so excited. He placed her on the ground, but he had to push the chair because the sand was deep and damp. With a smile, he watched her raise her hands in the air, as if trying to catch the wind. The most beautiful sound he’d ever heard, a laugh of pure delight, sprang from her lips. “I love it!”

He leaned over to kiss her. “I’m glad.”

“Is it always this loud?” The constant roar was a bit of a surprise to Cassie.

“Sometimes it’s louder. I love to watch a storm coming in.” Sounds of seagulls added to the roar of the tide crashing in.

“Can we walk a little ways?” She pointed down the beach.

“Of course.” He turned the chair and headed east. “Hold on.” He stopped and went in front of her and knelt down. “Let’s take off your shoes and you can dangle your toes in the water.” At her widened eyes, he said, “You can feel, right? I mean, you can stand.”

“Yes,” she agreed, nodding her head. “But won’t I get messy?”

Removing her shoes, he put them in the little carryall bag hanging to the side of the chair. “I’ll clean you up, no problem. Now remember, the water is gonna be cool.”

Cassie held on to the arms of the chair as if she were going to propel herself into the water. Bowie steered a little closer to the water line and when the next wave came in, it splashed up on her feet. “Bowie!” She squealed and they both laughed with joy. Knowing she was ecstatic, they traveled on a few hundred more yards until the wind picked up and he caught her hugging herself.

“Cold?”

“No,” she answered.

“Cassie…” He reprimanded her with one word. “We’ve got lots of time and I promise we’ll do this again when we get to our cabin. You can put on some warmer clothes.”

“Oh, okay.” She pouted a bit. When he stopped and headed her back, she turned and kissed his hand. “Thank you, that was wonderful.”

He bent over and touched his lips to the top of her head. “You’re more than welcome, just wait till you see what else I have planned.”

Cassie trembled with excitement. “I can’t wait.”

They loaded back up and headed on west toward the end of Bolivar Peninsula. Almost the whole way, the ocean was just on the other side of the road. There were a few places where it went out of view, but not many. When they crossed a small bridge, Bowie told her this was Rollover Pass, where the waters from the Gulf flowed over to Rollover Bay on the other side of the peninsula.

“Why is it called Rollover?”

“Ah,” Bowie smiled, “a story goes with that. The pass earned its name from the time of Spanish rule when smugglers would avoid Galveston customs stations by rolling barrels of rum and other imports or exports over the narrowest part of Bolivar Peninsula. They even used this spot during prohibition.”

Cassie looked to her left and to her right. “I can see the Bay from here, this is a very narrow piece of land.”

“Three huge hurricanes have devastated this region—the infamous 1900 hurricane, Carla in 1961 and Ike in 2008. There were places on the peninsula that lost sixty-five feet of beach during Ike.”

“I can’t imagine the power of a hurricane.” Cassie mused.

“When we get to the island there are some things I’ll show you. Remind me,” he promised. Along the way he pointed out beach houses. “Most of this area was completely flattened in Ike. These houses were all rebuilt.”

“Aren’t they afraid another storm will come and blow them away again?”

Bowie shrugged his shoulders. “The human spirit is indomitable. Slave ships used to land right over here.” He pointed toward the remains of Fort Travis. They would unload and force the slaves to march from here to New Orleans, some three hundred miles.”

“That’s horrible.” She shook her head, imagining the heat and the mosquitos. “What’s that?” She pointed up ahead.

“The end of the line,” Bowie said with a chuckle. “Welcome to the Ferry.”

Her mouth hung open as they made their way onto the boat with a myriad of cars, trucks, vans and motorcycles. As soon as they were parked and the boat took off, Bowie came around to her door and opened it. “Come on, short cake. There’s no room on deck for your chair, but you’ve got to see this.”

Cassie’s throat choked up a little when he picked her up in his arms. She hugged him around the neck and he carried her to the side. “Wow.” This was the first time she’d ever see a ship up close. Several were going by, oil tankers and cargo ships. “Look, there’s a cruise ship!”

“Would you like to go on a cruise someday?” he asked.

“Hell, yeah!” Bowie laughed.

When they’d left the ferry, he drove her down the seawall. “We’ll come back tomorrow or the next day and investigate this further.”

“Where’s our cabin?”

Cabin. Well, it wasn’t exactly a cabin. He’d rented a mansion, complete with an elevator and a heated pool. “It’s on the west end of the island, about seventeen miles from here.” Along the way, she gazed at the surf, beachside shops, restaurants and bars. “A carnival?” She almost screamed as she spotted Pleasure Pier.

“Would you like to come back and ride some rides?”

Cassie smiled, but shook her head. “I don’t know. We’ll talk about it. Okay?”

“Yea, we’ll see.” He didn’t like her assuming she couldn’t do something or that he wouldn’t want to be there for her when she tried to do it. Following her gaze, he explained what she was seeing. “Construction on the seawall was started in 1902, in response to the hurricane that killed eight thousand people. It was finally completed in 1963.”

“Eight thousand?” She was surprised and horrified.

“Yes. The seawall is ten miles long and seventeen feet high and kept out all storm surges from overpowering the island until Ike in 2008. Now they’re contemplating building a barrier they call an Ike Dike that would protect all of Galveston Island and the Houston Ship Channel.”

Cassie didn’t understand what he was saying. She was still stuck on the eight thousand people. “How could that happen, so many people dying?”

Bowie sighed. “The year 1900 was before meteorological reports were available, of course. There were a few reports of a storm out over the far islands and then over Florida, but those who watched storms reported that it had gone up the Atlantic seaboard. They were wrong. When the storm hit the island, it came in as a Category 4 with a storm surge of at least fifteen feet. Galveston sits at only eight feet above sea level. The surge washed over the entire island. If you talk about ‘the storm,’ anyone on the island knows you’re speaking of the 1900 storm. Whole families were lost, along with ninety children who lived in an orphanage that sat right on the beach over there. The rich were safe in the Bishop’s Palace, a stone mansion, while hordes of poor died in a church right across the street.”

Cassie could tell he was caught up in what he was saying, there was sorrow in his voice. “It makes you realize how fragile life is, doesn’t it? And how we should treat each moment we have with respect.”

“Yea,” Bowie agreed. Shaking his head, he dispelled the sad thoughts. They drove on down the sea wall until it took a slight inland turn and the seawall disappeared. Cassie strained to see the water. “Don’t worry.” Bowie pointed. “The beach is still there. I want you to keep your eyes open. The homes are magnificent here.”

And they were. Cassie was flabbergasted. Some of the homes were normal—beach houses on stilts, some nicer than others. But what took her breath away were the mansions. Three story homes that looked like gingerbread doll houses. Huge homes, houses that must have cost literally millions. “Who lives here?”

Bowie laughed. “I don’t know. Doctors, lawyers, corporate executives, people from all over. These are summer homes. Many of them are rented out during part of the year. I always figured they had to rent them out to pay the insurance, since they sit right on the beach.”

The colors fascinated Cassie. Of course some homes were white or gray, but many were blue, green, peach, pink, purple, and yellow. “It has a very Caribbean feel, all of these pastel colors.”

Putting on his blinker he turned and Cassie almost flittered. “Why are we stopping here?” Bowie pulled up to a big house, right on the beach. It was yellow, two stories sitting over a covered garage and a patio room.

“This is where we’re staying?”

“Get out of here!” Cassie said with astonishment.

“I take it you aren’t asking to leave.” He laughed as he got her wheelchair ready.

“Not on your life!”

She didn’t know where to look first. The house was gorgeous and the beach was right there—right there! Not even twenty-five feet away.

“There’s an elevator,” he proudly announced. “And a small heated pool off the patio.”

“I can’t believe this.” She marveled as he got her in the elevator and showed her how to work it. “I’ve never in my life had anyone do anything like this for me.” Holding her hand up, she beckoned him down for a kiss. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

When they got to the second floor, he wheeled her out and enjoyed showing her around. Bowie had carefully researched the houses online to find the perfect one. “It has a full kitchen, two bathrooms, one of them with plenty of room for your chair and just look at all of this glass and the deck. No better view in the world.”

Everything was beautiful. There was even a fireplace. But the place that drew her the most was the deck where she could just sit and look at the Gulf. “Is that a ship?” She pointed in the distance.

“That’s an oil rig. But if you keep your eyes open, you might see a ship.” He ran down to the truck and got their luggage while she just sat and soaked in the view. When he returned, she followed him in. “I guess we’re sleeping in the same room. Right?” he asked with a lop-sided grin.

“I hope so,” she answered frankly.

“Good. Follow me.” He led her to a good size master bedroom with a king size bed, an in-room bath and French doors which led out onto the deck, facing the ocean. “What do you want to do first?”

Cassie looked outside. “I want to walk along the beach and hunt for seashells.” Then realizing what she had said, corrected herself. “Well, you know, you push me down the beach and let’s look for seashells. I also want to get in the water so bad I can taste it, but I know that’s not possible.”