tale #52

Author’s note:  Here’s the last tale.  Sorry for the delay in posting.  It turns out, endings are hard.

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I am dreaming.  I am floating on my back in an emerald green ocean.  The water is warm and bits of moss and small fish brush softly against my skin.  I am wearing a t-shirt and a lava lava skirt.  The skirt is knotted at my hips, the knot made strong with the salt water.  The skirt flares out and is floating under me, but it does not weigh me down.  My hair fans out around me.  I bend my knees, allowing my feet to drop down into the murky warmth below.  Although my eyes are closed, the sun creates a wall of graduated orange and yellow color behind my lids.  I can feel the sun’s rays on my stomach and arms, as I float.  I am completely relaxed.

Overhead, I hear the engine of an airplane and dip my head further into the water to mute the sound.  The heat and light disappear as the plane momentarily blocks out the sun, and then reappear in a burst.  I open my eyes and lift my head slightly to view the expansive, clear sky and the horizon below.  In the distance is an island.  I can see palm trees lining a strip of white sand.  I realize with a start that I don’t know how long I’ve been floating.  I take a deep breath and flip over onto my stomach.  I begin swimming, with slow, easy strokes, towards the island.

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“Woohee,” Lisa said as she leaned against the doorframe to my office.  “I don’t believe this office has ever seen such order.  Or decoration.  It’s almost like a real girl works here.”

I turned from the file cabinet where I was placing my files by date and deadlines and looked around Jaycee’s former office.  I had moved the desk, after cleaning it thoroughly, brought in some new chairs, whitewashed the metal file cabinet and metal bookshelves, and covered an old side table with a tablecloth.  On the corner of the desk was a vase of flowers Steve had given me as an office-warming gift.  On top of the filing cabinet was a plant.  A framed photograph of Keats, Bronte and me sat on top of the book case.  Another of just Keats was next to it.  I smiled at Lisa.  “Almost,” I agreed.

Lisa came into the office and plopped down in one of the chairs.  “So, did you line up that studio for the new fella?” she asked.

“That studio?”  I admit, I was mocking her.  “You mean the place you lived until last week.”

Lisa nodded.  “Yup, that’s the place.”  She stretched her long legs out.

“I asked Seiko to make the arrangements.”  I shut the file cabinet and went to sit behind my new desk.  Jaycee had a very nice office chair.

“Did you check to see that she did?”  Lisa was a quick study.

“I checked to make sure his belongings are being shipped in a timely manner,” I said.  “That’s what really matters.”

Lisa looked disappointed.  “So you really don’t think he’s bringing the beer making stuff with him on the airplane?”

I shook my head firmly.  “I doubt it.”

Telly tapped on the open door and came in carrying a plastic Palm Terrace bag.  She opened it and pulled out a stunning cream and purple plumeria and ginger lei.  The office exploded with a sweet tropical scent.  “For the new guy,” she said. “My cousin made it.”

Lisa gave a low whistle of appreciation.

“Thank you, Telly,” I said.  “That’s beautiful.  Thank your cousin as well.”

Telly raised her eyebrows and lifted her head slightly, Pohnpeiian for agreement.  “I checked with the shipping company like you asked,” she said.  “The guy said they’ve received the shipping order.”   Telly looked at her watch and then at me.

I glanced at my computer.  3:30 p.m.  “We’d better go, the plane will be landing soon.”

Lisa stood and took the lei from Telly.  She placed it carefully back in the plastic bag.  I gathered my gear and we headed for the door.  Lake was pulling into the parking spot next to mine as we were getting into my car.

“Off to get the new guy?” he asked, unloading a cardboard box of papers from his car.

“Yup,” I said.  Curiosity got the better of me.  “What’s all that?”

Lake hoisted the box up by cut out handles on each side.  “This is your new case.”  He held up his knee and set the box on it momentarily while he dropped his keys into his pocket.  “Embezzlement from a government program in Chuuk.  I’m just going to drop it in your office.”

I unlocked the driver’s side door.  “Put it in my old office,” I said.

Lake raised an eyebrow at me. “You mean the new guys office?”

I smiled.  “That’s the one.”

Fifteen minutes later, Lisa and I were standing within sight of the entry door as passengers drifted into the terminal and through customs.  Lisa had the lei out of the bag.

“Do we know what he looks like?” she asked.

“We know he’s a menwei.”

A man looking tired and disoriented approached the customs counter.  He was in his early forties, 5’10” with brown hair and a medium build.  Unlike most of the passengers, he was wearing jeans and a polo shirt, carrying a rolling duffel and a briefcase.

Lisa elbowed me and pointed to him.  “Betcha that’s our boy.”

We watched as the customs officer chatted with him for a moment and then waived him through without opening his luggage.  He picked up the handle to his duffle with a confused look on his face.

Lisa raised her arm and waived.  “Yoohoo.  Over here,” she called.

The man walked towards us tentatively.  I smiled as he reached us.  “Patrick Carr?” I asked.

Patrick nodded.  Lisa threw the lei over his head like a ring toss at a carnival.  “Welcome to Pohnpei,” we said in unison.

“Thank you,” Patrick said.  He adjusted the lei back, off his neck.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

Lisa looked at the single duffle near Patrick and then at me.  “You were right,” she said sadly.  “I guess the beer making stuff is on the boat.”  She turned to Patrick.  “Don’t worry, we’re on top of this.  Your equipment won’t be sittin’ on some dock rustin.”

Patrick looked taken aback.  “My equipment?”

“Your beer makin’ stuff,” Lisa clarified.

“Oh,” Patrick said.  “I didn’t ship that.  I didn’t think I’d use it here.”

Lisa put her hands on her hips and stood squarely in front of Patrick.  “Didn’t ship it?  Well, son, you’re just going to have to turn yourself around and go back and fix that oversight.”

I nudged Lisa with my elbow.  “Don’t be silly, Lisa.”  I shook my head at her.  “I’m sure Patrick has friends or family in the U.S. that can send whatever’s needed.” I smiled at Patrick.  “I apologize for our lack of manners.  After months and months of Bud and Fosters, the thought of home brew can make you a bit unhinged.  You understand.”

“Sure,” Patrick said, although he didn’t sound at all certain.

“You must be exhausted,” I said.  I took Patrick’s duffle from him and started walking.

“Shouldn’t there be a wall here?” Patrick asked as we moved from the terminal to the parking lot.

We reached my car.  I opened the trunk.  “First, we’ll give you a quick tour of Kolonia.  It might not look like much from the outside, but really.”  I stopped and thought.  “Well, that would be correct.  There’s just not that much to it.”  I laughed and lifted his duffle into the trunk.

“Thank you for all of your e-mails.” Patrick said.  “Were you able to rent the studio you mentioned?”

I nodded.  “I’ll run you by there first.  You can unload your luggage and grab a shower before we head out to the Village for dinner.  Lake, Jane and some of the Steves will meet us there.”

“Some of the Steves?”  Patrick adjusted the lei again.  “Are there many?”

“Oodles,” Lisa said, climbing into the back seat, leaving the front for Patrick.  He closed his door and automatically reached for his seatbelt, which, for reasons I had never properly understood, had been glued into the slider by a mechanic at PCR auto repair a few months earlier.

“The seatbelt’s broken,” I told him as he tugged gently on it.

“Broken?”  He began to examine the belt in the sliding mechanism.

I started the engine.  “Glued into place,” I explained.  “It’s alright,” I assured him.  Nobody goes over twenty miles per hour here.”  Rain began splashing against the windshield.

Patrick ran his hands over his face and gave a sigh.  “What have I done” I thought I heard him say softly, to himself.

I stopped at the airport exit, turned and gently touched his elbow.  “It’s Micronesia.  Don’t worry.  You’ll get used to it.”  I smiled at him and then pulled the car out onto the empty causeway.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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