The Way Page 5

  “Come in,” Beth called out as she heard a gentle rap at her bedroom door.

  Maggie pushed open the door, a little breathless, her red cheeks glowing, carrying a breakfast tray loaded with delicious looking pancakes, fragrant tea and fruit.

  Beth smelled the cinnamon and maple syrup as she sat up, gathering the big, downy pillows behind her as a backrest.

  Maple leapt off the bed, looking disgruntled by all the movement.

  “Here you go, lass. Great to see you awake and with some color back in your cheeks. Hope you’re hungry as I have made a little breakfast feast for you. You’ll need a good meal in you if you’re going out on the kayak with Toby today.” Maggie set the tray down beside the bed and placed a napkin over Beth’s lap. “Gave us a fright last night, you did. Talk about action all stations. Lionel and I hadn’t moved so fast in years!”

  “Yes, sorry for that, I was totally taken by surprise; I’m not one for fainting, so it’s all a bit new to me too. Just glad I’ve woken without a headache or any other damage. Thanks so much for this breakfast. It looks and smells brilliant.”

  “You enjoy that and I’ll see you in a bit. Come on, Aristotle, you can come outside with me. I have a nice big, fresh bone with your name on it.”

  The big hound stretched and got up and followed Maggie who closed the door behind them, leaving Beth to tuck into the delicious fare. Through the gauzy curtains, Beth saw bright speckles of sunshine reflecting on the water, making it glisten like a sea of diamonds. It looked the perfect first day to go boating with Toby.

  Beth had been in riverboats, as often the digs that her parents were working on were in remote areas of heavy forest or difficult terrain and access by water was the only suitable entrance and egress. The thought of taking to the huge open sea in a kayak was thrilling to her. She was a strong swimmer and had spent many hours in various campus pools. How different it would be in salt water instead of chlorine and with currents and waves instead of lanes and tiles.

  Finishing up the last piece of juicy peach on her breakfast tray, Beth dressed and made her way down to the kitchen. Quickly rinsing and washing her dishes, she looked out the window to see Toby making his way through the front gate. Aristotle began circling around him and tugged playfully at the beach towel draped over his shoulder.

  As she greeted him at the front door, his morning retorts came thick and fast to Beth. “Look at you! The zombie awakens. Good to see you back in the land of the living, kid, you looked a bit gray last night! Are you up for taking on the big green today? Prison, oops, I mean school starts this week, so we better make the most of the last day of freedom.”

  “Absolutely! Let me just grab a backpack with my towel and stuff, I’ll be right with you.” Beth went to her room to gather her essentials.

  Maggie was bustling about in the kitchen with Toby when she returned. “Here you go, kids. Take these supplies in case you get lost at sea.” She winked at Toby, as she handed Beth a Ziploc bag with a couple of apples, sandwiches, crackers and two bottles of water.

  “Thanks Maggie, I’ll do my best to keep her afloat and alive,” Toby quipped. “We’ll see you late in the day, by the time we get everything back to the shed.”

  Beth and Toby headed out the white timber gate and along the winding stony path towards the harbor. “Perfect weather to take you out today and we’ll just make it in time to shove off with the outgoing tide. We’ll paddle out of the harbor and then round to The Spit. It’ll give you a different view of the light and a real feel for being in open water.”

  They continued the rest of the way in comfortable silence. Beth already felt a sense of peace with Toby; she strongly felt there was no hidden agenda and, aside from the initial struggle to understand both his quick and quick-witted verbal delivery, his company gave her that feeling you get when you put on your most comfortable pair of shoes.

  The kayak was stored in one of the sheds attached to the red, timber-clad harbormaster’s building at the end of the pier. Toby was permitted to store his kayak there because Lionel had won a 99 year lease of the storage space in a poker game. This fact he was truly boastful about, as he used that win to remind others that card playing had a purpose in this life as much as the next activity.

  Toby and Beth made their way up the wide, gray, timber pier, their footsteps vibrating through the planks and creating a hollow echo coming up from the water below. They arrived at the shed and Toby fumbled in his board shorts’ pockets for the key. He fidgeted the key about in the lock.

  “Gets a bit stuck at times; all the salt water rusts it up. Can you lean hard in on the door? That sometimes helps.”

  Beth leaned in on the door and Toby was able to open it.

  The kayak had obviously seen better days, as there were quite a few dents in the faded green hull. Toby guided Beth on where to stand and be prepared to take one end as he worked the vertical craft off its railings. They put the kayak down while Toby retrieved the two black paddles. He gave Beth a quick paddling lesson on the dock, ensuring she understood that paddling wasn’t just arm action. Her whole body, torso, shoulders and legs were also to be involved. He spoke about becoming one with the paddle and she was wondering if his bent sense of humor was coming into play. He remained serious, though, and then assured her that in the current conditions, she’d pick it up easily. He then reached into the shed and brought out two rather frayed, pale yellow life jackets. He tossed one over to Beth.

  “We’ll put these on before we drop her in the water. Leave the clasp unfastened until we’re on board because it makes moving around a bit like an oompah loompa.”

  Beth laughed aloud at the reference. “You must be referring to the round, orange guys in the ‘70’s film version – in the book, they were a tiny race.”

  “Good to hear you’re a reader of classics. Dahl’s one of my faves. I love his grown-up stuff too. It’s right up my sick and twisted alley. Okay, grab an end and into the sea we go!”

  They made their way to a narrow walkway leading to Lionel’s fishing boat mooring. They lowered the kayak into the water with Toby at first rocking it every time Beth tried to put her foot in and laughing while she withdrew each attempt.

  “Okay! Enough with the rocking!” Beth scolded.

  He then behaved himself, holding it as still as possible, while Beth gingerly climbed in and settled into the back seat. Toby handed her a paddle and effortlessly took the front seat, stowing away their provisions in the little storage hatch. He called paddling instructions out to Beth as they made their way between the rows of vessels. Every single one had a name and this intrigued her. She wondered about the meanings and people behind some of the names. These ranged from humorous ones like ‘Ship Happens,’ ‘Do I look like I give a Ship?’ ‘Up Ship Creek’ to an almost A to Z of girls’ names from Abigail to Zoe.

  “Does Lionel’s fishing boat have a name? I didn’t think to look back at it as we paddled away.”

  “Sure it does. ‘Crusty Old Seaman.’ He reckons he named it after himself. A friend of his painted a caricature of him on the side – it’s cool as. Whoa, check this big toy out. They must’ve just come in this morning from Boston.” Toby motioned his head to the left.

  As they paddled out between the rows of smaller vessels, a huge, streamlined, two-level cruiser, gleaming white and with rock-star tinted blackened windows, loomed into view. It was a total contrast to every other vessel in the marina. Its name was emblazoned in raised, glittering black letters, ‘Ar Eagla Na Fȍe,’ along the side and at the rear of the formidable boat. A massive flag billowed from the top mast. The colors were of the Irish flag, although overlain by an ominous black serpent across the bright stripes of green, white and orange.

  “Wow, that’s quite a boat! Who does it belong to? What’s with that snake thing on the flag?”

  “It belongs to the DaFȍe family,” Toby answered. “You know the big jock, Daybian, who you were dancing with last night? He’s one of ‘em. The serpent on the flag probably rel
ates to the legend about St. Patrick – the snakes on land weren’t the only ones he banished from Ireland. Anyway, the DaFȍe family are about the wealthiest peeps this side of Boston. The dad’s a major politician running in the upcoming election; his head is plastered on posters all over the place. We’ll pass by the back of their estate on our way out to The Spit; I’ll point it out to you. Their house makes that boat look miniscule. Rumor has it they have a Boston penthouse too, valued about 50 million!”

  Once they made it through the marina and out into the open water, they developed a rhythm with their strokes and as the tide was outbound, they moved at an almost effortless pace. Beth loved the feeling of the breeze in their faces and it felt to her as if they were hovering above the waves. After about twenty-five minutes of paddling, Toby pointed to a cliff on the distant shoreline, atop which was a palatial residence, showcasing a vast expanse of glass and what looked like steel structured beams in bold, geometric lines along the perimeter. An infinity pool, a long, pale blue endless streak, featured on the lower level. Beth gathered that must be the DaFȍe place. A series of flags right across a large deck flapped in the breeze on the clifftop. Toby was right; the boat looked like a toy in comparison.

  They continued paddling about another fifteen minutes along the coast and then headed inland towards an islet of pristine white sand, making their way through anchored craft and towards the water’s edge which was crowded with vessels of every type. They found a space between two black kayaks and Toby stepped out of theirs and held the side for Beth to alight too. They dragged it about twenty feet up the beach and up a small sand bank, quite a distance from the shore, and grabbed their gear. Tidal pools were scattered along the sand with toddlers and children exploring them, and groups of people were everywhere –brightly-colored towels, blankets and beach shelters dotted on the white sand like sprinkles on a vanilla cupcake. Frisbees were being thrown and, in one direction, quite a crowd had gathered to watch what looked to Beth like bowling on the sand. She stopped and watched as the player stooped and carefully lined up the aim of his ball. Toby explained they were playing bocce.

  Delicious smells wafted across the sand from all sorts of food on the grills, making Beth and Toby realize how hungry they were after their paddle.

  “How good does that smell? Come on, we’ll head over to the other side. There’s an excellent tidal pool that’s great for paddling our feet and we’ll eat our gourmet rations.”

  After finding a couple of flat rocks to sit on by the side of the pool, and folding their towels as cushions, they munched away on broken, salty crackers and sipped at their water.

  “I come here as often as I can in the summer months and, by the numbers you see here, you can tell, so does the rest of the district. I can always find a spare bit of sand, though. I’ve loved it here from when we first arrived from Ireland and Dad would bring me here every time he had a day off. He used to love to say, ‘Tobias, always remember, the sun and salt water will cure just about anything that ails ya’. Wish he’d listen to his own advice. Instead, he was always looking down a bottle to cure shite. He never did find any answers there, that’s for sure.”

  “Do you still live with him?” Beth asked.

  “Nah, he’s in and out of clinics trying to dry out and Ma died just before my fifth birthday. That’s why we left Dublin really, too many memories and, with the fishing fleet here, Dad could pick up work straight away. I have one elder brother, Ronan; he’s quite high up in the Marines and in Afghanistan on active service the past four years. I live with Lionel at the moment.” Toby skipped a stone across the surface of the pool. “I’m hoping Ronan will be home this year. They keep promising…”

  “So, you’re a bit of an orphan, like me,” Beth replied. “No wonder we get along so well.” She changed the subject. “Tell me a bit about the school; what’s it like? I’ve been in a private girls’ bubble the last four years, so I’m sure this whole co-ed scene will be very different. Is it a stereotypical all-American movie-type high school?”

  “Not as shiny and shiteful as Hollywood has you believe, but unfortunately, yep, that whole group thing is alive and well. Don’t sweat it though, you’re welcome to join me on the rim.”

  “Rim? Where’s that?”

  “It’s not a place, it’s a group. You know, square pegs, round holes—outcasts. I’m actually proud of my place there. I’ve had it ever since the eighth grade when Kristy-Lee Barden, who purportedly was the hottest thing in school, leant in and stuck her smoke-coated tongue down my throat, causing me to throw up my popcorn in the Mill Wharf Cinema, and missing out on the best scene in a James Bond film – ever! After that, all the eighth graders jumped on the “he’s gay” wagon, except me, who registered my preference with urbs. It sits there, entry number 9, by Tobias FitzGerald, ‘stray—meaning ambiguity over sexual preference.’ If and when I do decide which way, it’s no one else’s business anyway.”

  “Urbs – What’s that?” Beth again struggled to keep up with both his pace and his Tobyisms.

  “Urban Dictionary. Wow, you really have been in a bubble.” The two of them sat for quite a while, in an easy silence. Beth lay back with her head on the small knapsack, covering her face with her light tee-shirt and feeling the sun’s rays warm her all over. With their feet dangling and cool in the pool, it was total bliss. The two of them dozed off, not realizing until there was a sudden seep of water with the rising tide, which flooded over the sides of the pool and oozed up under their towels.

  Toby pulled his feet from the water and sprang up, offering a hand to help Beth. “Come on, we better get the kayak back into the water to catch the ingoing tide, as it makes for a way easier paddle.”

  Beth gladly took his hand as she was already feeling some muscle stiffness from the first leg of their journey. They gathered their things and made their way back across the white sand. Many of the families had packed up and most of the vessels had already set sail.

  The Spit had shrunk considerably.

  “Best we get back to the kayak and move while the tide is in; it clears out pretty quickly once the water level rises.” Toby led the way to their kayak which, by this stage, had water lapping at one end as the small sandbank had become shoreline. They stored their bags in the compartments and set off at an easy pace as their kayak was helped along with the tide.

  After about ten minutes of paddling, Beth noticed a band of water, alongside the route they were taking, was a much darker green than the rest of the sea.

  “Why is that water such a different color?” she asked Toby.

  “There’s a channel running along this part of the coast and some divers reckon in parts you can’t reach the bottom, even with weighted lines. There’s a jagged rocky shelf either side and then, a steep, sudden drop into a narrow chasm. They don’t call this the shipwreck coast for nothing. Rumor has it that it wasn’t always the rocks that brought the ships down. Something far more sinister lurks in that abyss…” Toby turned to look at Beth, whose attention was firmly drawn to a flock of gulls circling over the channel and taking it in noisy turns to grab pieces off an indistinguishable carcass.

  “What on earth is that floating dead thing?” Beth screwed up her nose as the acrid scent caught them on the sea breeze.

  “Who knows, with what lies beneath here, it could be anything. Looks a bit like a shark carcass. It’s not the seagulls you have to concern yourself with out here, it’s the sea-ghouls.” Toby’s normally light tone was taking on a very serious one. He began picking up the pace and Beth easily met it, as the adrenalin kicked in, following Toby’s chilling words.

  * * *

  From the top deck of the expansive cliff top viewing area, a tall man, dark hair heavily flecked with silver, stood adjusting the lens of a substantial white telescope mounted onto the gleaming steel railing. His hair blew about in the breeze as he sought a clear view through the lens. His gaze settled onto the kayak and he zoomed in for a close-up of the titian-haired beauty, paddling furiousl
y away in the rear seat.

  After watching closely for a few minutes he muttered, “Well, there’s no denying those bloodlines, I’d recognize that face, even in the dark.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Substitute

  “Don’t stand so close to me”

  – THE POLICE

  Beth’s hand groped the surface of her bedside table in the semidarkness, trying to locate and switch off the alarm. As she moved her arm, she felt how sore her muscles were from the kayaking. She would need a hot shower to help ease the stiffness. She finally located the button and switched it off. Today was the first day of her last year of high school.

  Unlike the other students though, it was a bigger first, as she had not set foot in Scituate High School grounds yet. She sprang up, hit the shower and dressed herself in her faded jeans and a blue and black striped tee. She decided to wear her travel Docs, as these were her most comfortable shoes, and laced them up deftly. It felt odd not having to wear a school uniform.

  Making her way out to the kitchen, she found Maggie bustling about preparing a hot breakfast. Aristotle, who was out in the yard, upon hearing Beth’s arrival into the kitchen, put his great paws up on the window ledge and began whimpering for attention.

  “Get down from there, you big blighter!” Maggie yelled at him. “See Beth, even he knows the magnitude of the nerves you’re feeling this morning. Did you get a decent sleep?”

  “I sure did. The kayaking trip woke up muscle groups I didn’t even know I had. I was exhausted,” Beth replied.

  “Take a seat. I’ve made you some eggs today because the protein will do you good.” Maggie served them onto some buttered toast and brought it over to the table.