Chapter 12: A Time Forgotten
A cool blanket of fog tucks the natives in this cold, damp Christmas Eve in the paradise port of Nuku Hiva. A tall dark silhouette of a shabby bearded man passes the shops lining the long empty street. Each light dims as shop keepers close early for the night. The sound of wet leather “slaps” the slippery stones with each of his lonely steps. He stops a moment to listen to the “dripping” coming from the rooftops, drenching the cobblestone below. He places his cold hands in his warm pockets while allowing several conversing sailors to pass him by. He waits and listens till the establishment’s door they left out of gradually “creaks” shut. The town returns to its calm quiet sleep. But, in this deafening silence a war exists. It is the sound of battle ragging in his large lonely heart.
He slowly passes by the shop’s window. Through the veil draped across it, he sees one woman inside the dimly lit establishment. He watches her gracefully scrape clean the endless plates she collects from each of the mundane tables. This is not the life either of them imagined. He stands hidden behind the window curtains, as he hurts for her.
She suddenly becomes aware of his shifting presence. He notices, and then turns away. He stares at her through the sides of his eyes as he slowly begins to walk pass the window. His movement suggests he’s just a passing sailor returning home to his ship. She returns to work cleaning dishes from off tables. He stops at the corner of the shop’s window. Again, he casually peeks inside. He watches her slender fingers pick up the meager tips that sailors left. She places this tiny treasure into the dingy pocket on her apron. It pains him to see how far this stunning queen has fallen. He stands a while as she gracefully dances from table to table removing their remains.
She returns to the counter and wipes it. A sudden cold wind sends a shiver down his neck.
It causes him to adjust his jacket by shrugging his mighty shoulders up. She “clings” open the cash register while noticing his sudden movement. Fear is her first defense. Slowly, she closes the drawer until it locks shut. Her jutting stare focuses on him, as her suspicious head remains facing downward. Her unusual reaction suggests she is fearful of his presence. He decides this is not the right time. The cold man walks away, taking his rage inside with him.
Through the distant mist he hears the voice of an angel call out.
“Were you in need of something?”
He stops and wonders if he should respond, or just keep walking off into the thick churning fog.
She calls again from behind him, “I’m sorry if I startled you. It’s Christmas Eve, and I thought maybe you might like a hot mug of coffee to send you on your way.”
He stands frozen facing away. He debates whether to say anything, or if he should just keep going. He swipes a tear with his large finger before turning part way around towards her.
She stares at his distant silhouette through the mist waiting for his response. She notices his head nod slowly up and down once. Her hand opens the shop entrance, causing the door’s bell to “ting.”
She scurries towards the counter as her compassionate heart announces, “Merry Christmas. Come on in sailor while I pour you a hot mug.”
Her kindness will not go unrewarded.
He enters and sees her slim body facing in the opposing direction. Slowly, she pours the steamy sailor’s elixir into a mug. He quietly sits himself at the counter facing her. She turns and slides the mug under his hairy hung head.
She states, “I can’t remember there ever being a cold wet night like this here.”
He leans forward and sips.
She feels something mysterious about this large strange man.
She tries to spark a polite conversation by asking, “So, how are you tonight?”
He says nothing. He just sips his mug again.
In her years as a waitress, she has never known a sailor who was not willing to pour out their life story. She figures, maybe he’s just cold.
She unties her apron as she quickly heads to stoke the dying fire.
He cautiously turns his partially concealed face to see her bend into the golden glowing halo surrounding her. As she stands, he shirks his face away and back to sipping.
Her heels “tap” back across the stone floor while carrying along her apron and curiosity. She moves in front of him while folding her apron. She sees his mug is nearly empty. So, she does the only kind thing she can imagine on this cold wet lonely Christmas Eve. She gives him one more present.
The beautiful waitress tells the shabby sailor, “You’re going to force me to tell you my life’s story if you don’t say something.”
She smiles and pours more hot coffee into his mug.
He pulls himself slightly back and makes one fatal mistake. He says, “Thank you.”
In this moment, in this second, a rush of memories overtakes her. She drops the hot pot! Her shaking hands try and cover the eruption streaming out her eyes that are careful not to hide her gaze. Her heart knows who this strange man is.
She screams, “Cass!”
Slowly he lifts his burly bearded face. His searing stare confirms her suspicion. His flaming eyes have been burning in her nightmares giving her eight years of sleepless nights.
Frantically, she asks, “Why, why, why?”
He sits quietly and thinks maybe he should go. He did not realize how much he hurt her.
He begins to stand while whispering, “Maybe I should come another time.”
Her shivering hand is quick to snatch his.
He humbly gazes at her quivering lips, and obeys the command of her hand to stay.
He turns back towards her and says, “Believe me Brandy, I did not mean to hurt you. I just thought it was best to give you a better life than the one I could give.”
His glassy eyes feel her years of pain. He attempts to gently retrieve his trembling hand, but she refuses to let go.
Beautiful Brandy stands before him with her burning stare. Nothing is said that the ear can hear. Instead, eight years of lonely emptiness is gradually replaced with the touch from that part of their missing halves.
“Blast you Casanova Rouseco, 'ship’s mate' second class, of the 'Virgin Queen'.”
Her detailed recollection warns him to be silent.
“I don’t care if you love the sea. Can’t you tell you blasted fool? I’ve been waiting for you!”
She screams and cries out, “And, I will always, always wait for you!”
Her excited state causes her legs to go out from under her.
He snatches and catches her. He leans his tall body over the counter and lifts her gently into the air. Brandy is defenseless to the power he has over her. He pulls her in from over-top the counter, and then twirls her effortlessly under his swirling beard.
“By the way, I’m first class now.”
Her confused crying mixes with her overwhelming joy. She laughs and cries in the same
breath as the warm red glow of the fire overtakes them. She stares into his longing eyes like she never has.
She slides aside his beard while saying, “Merry Christmas sailor.”
She shakes her elated he
ad side to side, and then kisses him the way a sailor has never been kissed before. She pulls back long enough to catch her breath.
Softly she whispers, “Merry Christmas, Christmas present.”
She passionately kisses him once more. This time, it’s much, much slower.
They spend those precious remaining hours of the Christmas morning by the fireplace drinking many mugs of coffee. Not once do they dare entertain the thought of ever letting go in their embrace. She leans against him as she holds his arm. He leans against her as he holds her heart. She emphatically hinges on every word as he recounts eight years’ worth of his adventures. She is captivated by his heroics, and soothed by his endearing voice. As his stories finish, she begins to explain everything that’s happened to her in this last eight long years. Her adventure is not so exotic. But, Cass is fascinated to share in her joy and her pain. She tinkers with the locket that still hangs around her neck as the morning light peeks over them.
A “knock” on the window alerts them of a possible patron. Brandy turns to see the weary sailor wearing “garland” around his neck. She smiles at Cass with those eyes that could steal a sailor from the sea. Both suddenly realize the appropriate time has come to open shop. Cass knows this is also the appropriate time to ask Brandy.
Cass reaches into his pocket and incidentally nudges her warm body slightly away. He slides down from the sofa and faces her. She stares inquisitively into his most sincere eyes.
Nervously, he asks, “Might such a fine woman with such beautiful blue eyes ever
consider spending the rest of her life with a salty sailor with so very, very little to offer her?”
Slowly she pans her face side to side as her “tingling” hand covers her mouth. These are the words she never thought she would ever hear. These are the words that have tortured her so many sleepless nights. It is the unobtainable dream happening suddenly right in front of her. The flames in her bright blue-red ravenous eyes begin to fiercely shake up and down.
“Yes Cass,” with her “crackling” elated voice, “Yes, I most certainly will.”
Their bodies join once more to share this eternal second, completing that one love of a lifetime.
Christmas day, Cass finds a most willing reverend to marry them, or one that’s possibly intimidated by Cass’ sheer size and ferocious request.
The following days are for packing all of Brandy’s memories left by her rich heritage into several large travel trunks. She decides to share the only place Cass has ever really known as home; besides the “Virgin Queen.”
Cass wires Unks of his new devotion and next destination.
The newlywed couple is given a French Polynesian “bon voyage” aboard the “Lord Byron.” The smiling captain is more than happy to lend them assistance. Not only does he promptly arrive, answering Cass’ urgent request, he also gives them a full-fledged fancy send off. He “toots” the steam whistle and “blows” the horn as he steers the flower covered flotilla away from the cheering port. The crew “claps” as Cass and Brandy wave to those memories they leave behind.
Captain Alexander Trousi leisurely maneuvers the “Lord Byron” through the warmest waters along their voyage. The days are sunny and warm, and the star lit nights are romantic once more. The crew remains hid under the captain’s order. But, a set of occasional wondering eyes can be found peeking around towards the “stern” of the ship; reserved for the privacy of the
“honeymooning” couple.
The clean shaven Cass holds smiling Brandy in his arms as they pass many scenic wonders. The tour is personally arranged by the captain for their viewing pleasure. The cook has been ordered to provide special attention to their dinning pleasure. Every moment is one they’ve always dreamed it would be. Every day is breathtaking. And, every night is oh so romantic. But, the days and nights soon become too precious and few.
Cass leaves his beautiful bride standing alongside Uncle Jared and Mrs. Lucy. They all wave their perfect farewell to him. This sight is what you might call a “picture perfect postcard.” Cass turns away and proceeds to take this memory with him to the sea. He stops, and then looks back over his shoulder and sees the presence of momma standing on the porch.
Brandy holds up their little son Val to remind him of what waits for him at home. He blows them a final kiss, and then waves to them before turning into the gentle fresh breeze.
Suddenly, Cass feels the overpowering warmth of the Sun kissing his face. Somehow he knows this is momma’s wedding gift. He can feel her warm loving lips touching his cheeks once more.
As I close this chapter of my nephew’s life, I will not say this story’s over. Many things are still to be said. Cass will sail many seas and have many more heroic adventures; unnerving his dear Uncle Jared. But, he makes sure to always return home in one piece.
Mrs. Brandy Rouseco has become little Valentino’s teacher. It seems his school’s instructors proclaim he is nothing but a “doting day dreamer.” His momma loves him like no other momma has; except-maybe one other. She teaches him of the most important things in life while using nature as her classroom. At night, she tells him amazing stories filled with romance, impossible acts of heroism, and-most importantly-ones filled with great adventure.
His favorite bedtime story is the one that grandma made so many years ago. Val drifts off in Brandy’s arms as she kisses her darling prince twice “goodnight.” Once is from momma, and twice is for their “Knight in shining armor.” Her stories help keep little Val’s dreamy mind satisfied. But, there is nothing to compare to the glow on his face when he receives word his poppa is returning from the sea. For, he is truly a sailor's story that is larger than life itself.
Mr. and Mrs. Black are now known as Uncle Steven and Aunt Ava in the many postcards they send to Cass; which he forwards home to Brandy. Rico and Becky are well taken care of, and they make sure to write their new cousin often. They send him pictures, trinkets, and toys from Portugal. Cass stops and see them when the “Virgin Queen” is anywhere near Lisbon.
Miss Margaret has become an author of romance stories. Cass’ visits are far fewer than they use to be, but he always has time to share a cup of coffee and a sailor’s story once a year or so. She too has found someone wonderful to share her life and heart with. Her enticing chain of bookshops are spreading like a romantic fever. She has taken a lesson from Ava by using the same ambiance in her stores' design.
As for Ava; Mr. Black and her have ventured to expand their booming enterprise beyond the shores of Lisbon with all the bounty they’ve earned. They have plans to visit Cass and the family this Christmas. They want to finally meet Cass’ beautiful bride and handsome new son. They also wish to look for a place to start another “Port of Sea” in America. They look forward to bringing the whole family along.
This is a welcome journey to Cass’ ears. The German bigmouth has started war that threatens to suck in all of Europe. Cass hopes Uncle Steve and Aunt Ava might decide to stay and
live in America when they come to visit.
Isabella and Sherry fight over Rico, whom makes it a point to stop in and receive his
complimentary pastry every morning. Well, maybe not free. He always pays them with his personal pretty compliment. Both still argue over which one of them it was actually intended for. He laughs his ornery laugh as he leaves; much like the man who sails the sea did. Cass still returns to spend time with him. Alas, Cass has become more of a dear mentoring brother than the father figure from so
many years ago.
Becky, she has grown very beautiful. Mr. Black has inherited the curse of “shooing” away men she attracts. Many are much older than she appears to be. She is now sixteen beautiful years of age. She still holds her girlish giggle that Ava and Steven have grown so fond of hearing.
She still whispers to Cass, “I love you poppa,” when he comes to visit.
As for the greedy captain and the lovely large Lucy; it seems they had a secret agenda all those years. Captain Ron Dedmen was supplying American allies with cargoes of munitions. This was to help prepare America and her allies before things erupted in Germany. The U.S. Government was not taking the bigmouth’s threats likely. As for the greedy amount of money the Cap was constantly willing to risk our lives for.; it was to fund several failing orphanages. I guess he is not as bad a man as we all imagined. Come to find out, he was an orphan himself. Miss Lucy has become Mrs. Ron Dedmen. Both now live in the “Port of Norris,” in colonial New Jersey. Both help run several orphanages and help other less fortunate in their community. I guess he is an alright guy after all.
Mrs. Guvenossie still goes to church and has Sunday supper with the Black family. That’s when she comes to visit. She is known to stay at her own cottage when she returns to Lisbon several times a year. You see, she got married to some scruffy old captain, and now sails the seas on his adventures. Captain Dedmen was getting too old to handle all the work it takes to keep that bucket of bolts together; respectfully called the “Virgin Queen.” He thought it would be best to share his business-that is, for a percentage of the profits. He thought hard and long on whom might have the years of experience needed to negotiate all those dangerous ports and hard fought contracts. This person also had to possess the leadership skills necessary to maintain a good crew. I think he made the only logical choice.
I got to go now; my misses is calling me to supper. If you listen hard you can hear her scold Stymie on how to cook her secret recipes. And, just maybe you can hear her command the new captain of the “Virgin Queen” to wash up before dining.
I close by saying, “This surely has been an adventure of a life time.”
One last word of knowledge: always wash the ink off your hands when you finish reading a good book, and always do this before eating supper.
“I’m coming dear!”
And, all the world was right.
I dedicate this story to my dear sweet doting momma, and my giant of a nephew-Jordan! May God embrace her until we meet again. And, may God lead, bless, and protect my buddy all the days of his adventurous life.
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