Of Sea and Cloud (26 page)

Just saying.

Just saying. Fuckall, Captain. Why don't you just say where in hell he's gone to with a hundred new traps he loaded aboard this morning.

I'd say he took them outside and set them right on top of your favorite little fishing spot, Virgil, Bill said.

Virgil sipped his drink. I'd say that's right astute of you, William. You apologize to Erma Lee yet?

Bill ran his hands around the steering wheel. A hundred traps? That's a lot of gear to be putting down in winter. Hell, the price ain't even over three bucks yet. He'll lose half that gear in a month's time. Better on the bottom line to stay on shore these days. Christ, damned near like getting paid not to haul. Even in a good winter who in hell sets fresh gear?

He knows Jonah cut that gang of Osmond's off out on the Leviathan. My guess is he wants to test us again. That new boat's got him fierce, and he'll fish hard. Lucky little prick's got Celeste looking over his shoulder like a damned angel, and he don't even know it. We mess with him and I'll be living with the two of you boys.

Julius just can't help it, I'm guessing, Bill said with a slow up and down nod.

Virgil revved the engine. He can fish the bay and the sound—and hell, all the way out in any direction his black heart desires. But he is not fishing the Leviathan. The Leviathan is ours.

• • •

That night Celeste got into bed by herself. A football game played on the television downstairs and after a while she heard it shut off and heard the front door open and close. She shivered as though a shell of cold air had climbed the staircase and crawled down the hallway into her bedroom and into her body. She waited and soon enough Virgil's truck started and idled.

After an hour of the truck idling she put her bathrobe and slippers on and went outside. Virgil had a gallon of milk and a bottle of brandy with him. Chowder rested her head on his thigh and her tongue hung out. The heater blasted. The moon was big but tucked behind a thin layer of clouds and the cloud cover diffused the light over the snow and water and mud and turned the night bright. The tide was low and the frozen mudflats were slick chrome.

Virgil rotated his head atop his neck like the twist of a socket drive and said, Julius set a gang of traps on the Leviathan this morning.

Celeste sighed. That's why you're sitting out here pouting in the middle of the night?

No. It's Osmond.

Osmond? Celeste's voice was exasperated. She rotated in the seat and gazed at Virgil with her mouth half open. She felt like she'd spent her life believing in the wrong thing. She stared at him in the shadow of the truck. The shadow made him look older and paler than usual.

You really think Osmond would kill Nicolas over the pound? That doesn't make sense. The pound's not worth that, even to him.

The pound is worth it. Jason Jackson changes things. Benji selling the wharf changes things. The wharf is a buying station. The pound is a storage facility. The two combined are worth a hell of a lot more than the two separate. Osmond understands that, but that's not all his reasoning. The real reason is Julius. Osmond's scared that without the income from the pound, his only male blood would be a pirate drug dealer his whole life and end up like Chimney or worse. And he knew with Nic in the pound, Julius couldn't be a part of it because Nic had two sons and the pound don't split that many ways. Osmond probably would've died first and Julius would've gotten the insurance, not the pound. Then Chimney would've gotten his paws on that money. Osmond was set upon this earth to have dominion over the sea, not to smuggle dope.

Virgil paused and his heavy breathing filled the cab. When he caught his breath he continued.

With Jason Jackson on the scene, things are going to change and change fast. Benji's wharf's the first step. We don't see the rest yet, Celeste, but Nic was the end.

Celeste suppressed the urge to scream. She said, Oh my God, Virgil, I am sick of this kind of talk. The end of what, for heaven's sake?

The end of the ocean is what it is.

Celeste scoffed. The end of the ocean? She gazed at the pale night outside the truck. We've always shipped lobsters out. That's how we survive.

That's right. We made enough to get by. Now it's big money and big boats. We aren't trucking lobsters to little markets in Boston anymore. We're shipping around the globe so now we got the attention of some big money. Whatever happens in global markets happens to us but in a different way. Virgil put his hand on hers and his voice calmed and took on a new sensitivity. It's important that you understand this, Celeste. This is about money for them, but it's about life for us. If we sit back and let this stuff happen, we lose who we are. Isn't that worth something? Isn't that worth everything?

Without meaning to Celeste whispered, Nicolas. Then thought,
I'm going crazy too.

Virgil nodded and his voice resumed its previous fervor. And it ripples down. The demand for lobsters in Asia goes up so the price goes up. All of a sudden this coast is worth something. Nicolas doesn't like it so he gets killed. Then Jonah bottoms out so Charlotte dumps him and Erma Lee gets knocked up and Julius gets our daughter and on and on. Those markets fuck our lives, and it ain't right, and it'll get worse. Look at scallops or groundfish or salmon or crab. Big business runs the government so they make the regulations. That's how they win. Now they have fish farms that run on computers and drift across the Atlantic. No people aboard at all. Just floating computerized factories. That's what it's coming to. Imagine looking out there and seeing a city of floating farms run by robots feeding corn to genetically engineered salmon. It's real and it's coming. Jason Jackson isn't as bad as the big corporations, but he's the first step and we need to fight now and we got to do it our way.

Virgil gazed blankly through the windshield. When he spoke again his voice was soft and easy as if begging something of her. We are smart enough to do this, aren't we?

What is
this
?

This life. We are smart enough for this life, aren't we? For this world? To live here?

I don't know, she said. She put her hand on the door handle. I love you, Virgil, and I agree with some of what you said. But that is no excuse for what you're doing to yourself or to us. I swore to stand by you and by God I will, but you made the same fucking promise to me.

She opened the door and stepped out of the truck. She shut the door quietly and pulled her robe tight to her chest. She walked through the cold night air and went inside and up the steps and paused outside Charlotte's room and listened to her daughter's slight breath and wished momentarily for her adolescence. Hers and Charlotte's.

Virgil and Jonah met Bill at the wharf in the morning. The moon hung over the western edge of the harbor. The wharf light shone yellow in the blue dawn. The air smelled of ice and wintertime wind. One of the urchin draggers idled on its hook and its overhead lights flooded the deck space where Royal James worked and smoked. The three of them took a moment and watched Royal move about the boat deck then Jonah spoke.

You heading straight offshore, Virgil? I'm guessing you are.

I'm heading to find Julius's traps. Every single last one of those hundred sonsofwhores.

Jonah coughed and hacked up a pile of phlegm and spat it onto the wharf plank. He cocked his head and looked at Virgil. Even in the half-light he could see Virgil's sunken eyes and caved cheeks and slumped shoulders. You don't look so good, Virgil. You doing okay?

Finger licking, Virgil said.

You sure? What're you going to do? You aiming to cut each one?

Just the ones I don't like.

They walked down the ramp. It was covered with asphalt shingles for traction and Virgil hung on to both rails and grunted with each awkward step. Two gulls quit the float. Jonah held Virgil's skiff alongside as Virgil climbed in. They wiped the snow from the seats and sat and pushed themselves off and rowed to their boats.

The three boats ran single file out of the harbor and when they reached open water they fanned out side by side by side and all three boats cast wakes like the flight patterns of geese. The boats spread farther and farther apart until each one became nothing but an isolated dot on the horizon. As Jonah watched this separation he felt a pang like twilight in his chest and he wished he could save them all but he didn't know what from.

He steamed south to his first string. He hauled the pairs of traps and piled them on the stern and he was on his way to his next string when Virgil came on the radio.

Jonah, you might want to come out here and lend me a hand. I got boat troubles.

What is it?

Jonah spun his boat south and the
Jennifer
lifted and planed through the water.

I ain't sure. She's just upset I'm thinking.

Bill's voice came on the radio, You okay, Virgil? What's up?

I'm fine, Virgil said. The Highliner can give me a hand. You keep on fishing.

Where're you at, Virgil? Jonah said. The Leviathan?

That's right.

Let me know if you need a hand, Bill said but Virgil didn't answer him.

Twenty minutes later Jonah pulled alongside him and both boats lifted and settled with the charge of water. Virgil walked to the stern and faced Jonah. He pointed at two of his strings. Jonah looked to the south and to the west and saw Julius's buoys side by side with Virgil's. Jonah's mind followed the ropes to the seafloor and he saw Julius's traps stacked atop Virgil's.

Jonah looked at Virgil. Fuckachrist, Virgil.

I don't know, Jonah. I just don't know.

That ain't right.

No shit that ain't right. Did the Captain send Erma Lee any flowers yet?

Not yet he ain't.

He better do something, Virgil said. Goddamned Julius set atop me each and every one of them bastards. Virgil looked at his boat deck and swung his head back and forth in a gradual arc. It makes me sad is all I can say. What does that boy think, Jonah?

Jonah worked his gloves off and clasped his hands beneath the bib of his oil pants. He could feel the layer of sea air rising into the cold winter sky.

Julius don't respect a thing, Jonah said.

Virgil held his breath and released it. If that's how he wants to play.

What's that?

He's just lucky I'm too old to get mad anymore. Ten years ago I'd hang that sonofawhore high. Instead I'm taking the Highliner and the Captain sternman tonight.

Tonight?

That's right.

Maybe we should let Osmond take care of Julius. He wouldn't approve of this any more than we do. I see he ain't set a string back here since we cut him off.

Virgil picked a herring out of the baitbox and tossed it over the stern. A half dozen gulls dove and fought for it.
We
cut him off, Jonah?
You
cut him off. Don't forget that because I guarantee Osmond hasn't. Just because he's been quiet about it doesn't mean he's forgotten. He's just waiting. And I agree that he might not take to Julius's behavior. We don't like each other but he understands lobster fishing and he knows the rules, even if he breaks them once in a while. But I'll be goddamned if either one of us goes crying to him. Julius's got to learn some manners and my guess is he won't listen to Osmond any more'n he listens to anyone else. Osmond had his time with Julius and it added up to nothing. Now it's our time.

It was midmorning when Osmond dropped the two girls off at daycare and gave the woman two hundred dollars and said he wouldn't be back until the following afternoon. The woman folded the money into her apron and nodded. Osmond peeled another hundred from his billfold and said, They are my life.

I know it, the woman said. We get on good, don't we Dolly?

Yes, said Dolly.

Osmond knelt down and hugged them both and kissed each one on the cheek and held his hands on the backs of their heads. I'll be back before you know it.

He drove to Julius's and Julius was waiting in the driveway with a small gym bag in his hand. He climbed into the truck and shut the door and said, Hell, I could've set five strings this morning if I'd known it would be this late.

Osmond glanced at him. I thought I said to dress well.

Julius wore black sweatpants and a gray sweatshirt. I ain't exactly flush with tuxedos.

Never mind, Osmond said. We'll take care of it.

Where we going?

To get you acquainted.

Acquainted with who?

With whom? With your future partners. We're going to the city. To Boston.

The fucking city?

Osmond reached over and grabbed Julius's bicep and squeezed it. You will mind your manners, Julius. Until the time is right to not mind them anymore, but until that time, you will.

When's that time?

You must learn to pay attention to people. You are going into business now. Even in your father's business, he had to be a judge of people.

Yeah. Or he'd get his ass shot off.

As may you.

It was six hours before they crossed the bridge and dipped into the clean new tunnel. Julius was wide-eyed and held one hand on the door and the other on the dash. Traffic echoed.

Sonofawhore, he said.

Osmond grinned.

They emerged near the train station and financial sector and the skyscrapers pincushioned the sky. They exited and veered east toward the water and parked outside Jason's warehouse. Patches of snow and ice missed by plows dotted the pavement and the sky was gray and the air was heavy and cold and raw and smelled of heating oil and traffic.

The steel door echoed. Daniel smiled and stood up and shook Osmond's hand.

This is my grandson, Julius Wesley. You met at the pound.

Daniel nodded. I remember. Follow me.

They followed Daniel into the tank room. Julius stopped at the doorway and looked around. Holy shit, he said.

Osmond gave him a sharp look and Julius caught the look.