GAMM and all canonical characters: Daniel, Carolyn, Martha, Claymore, Candy and Jonathan, etcetera belong to Twentieth Century Fox, Josephine Leslie (R.A Dick) NBC and/or ABC. I make no money from this piece of fiction.
The Chill Factor
Judy
On a particularly warm summer's day in Schooner Bay, Carolyn Muir despondently eyed the Selectric I typewriter in Smitty's store window. The glowing orange sale tag read 480.00 — a trim four hundred and eighty dollars she didn't have. Grimacing, she sighed against the glass, thinking of her limited finances. These days, she couldn't even buy the machine as a write-off for her business. After waving to the store owner inside, she headed for home, resigned to the fact that her old typewriter, with the messy ribbon, would have to suffice until better days.
That evening in Gull Cottage, in the home she shared with her meddling, but handsome ghost, Mrs. Muir bundled her children, Candy and Jonathan, off to bed and made her way down the hall to her own room for a bit of solace. She didn't feel like intruding on her housekeeper, Martha, who was immersed in a television movie downstairs in the parlor, so in her own quarters, Carolyn thought she might find Captain Gregg hovering about to engage him in a smattering of adult conversation. Carolyn lightly called out to the obliging spirit, waiting a few minutes for him to respond, and when there was no indication of his presence, she walked out onto the balcony and quickly realized he wasn't there. The special feeling she enjoyed when he was near her in any form, told her the guage was on empty.
Still, the coolness of the evening and the call of the stellar stars above prompted Carolyn to remain outside, and after a moment, on pure whim, she rounded the balcony corner to her right and climbed the steep ladder to the walk above. Anything is better than another night alone with those damned typewriter keys, she thought, as she pulled herself up the last rung and onto the platform. The night air was brisk, the moment exhilarating. A deep cleansing breath followed as she wondered where the Captain was keeping himself. She hadn't seen him for nearly a week and could only suppose he was on one of his mysterious off-road journeys, which for her, occurred more often than she'd like. There would be a day, she promised herself, when she would coerce the wayward spirit into telling her why he was gone and where he was laying his anchor.
Enjoying her momentary freedom, with the wind chilling her while its fingers gloriously breezed through her hair, Carolyn turned and faced the ocean. In the dimness, squinting as hard as she could, she recognized the dark patches on the beach below to be the rocks her children played on. Leaning her elbows on the old wooden rail, she knew she must visit the beach again. A long time had passed since waves had splashed against her feet or since she'd played her favorite game of throwing driftwood into the sea. Carolyn set it in her mind right then, that she would go down the next day no matter what. Straightening from the rail, she crossed her arms against the cold and glanced up at the stars. She was always amazed that the points of light above her were the very same stars Captain Gregg used to navigate his ship by a hundred years ago. Why couldn't he navigate home?
"Are you balmy?" came the gruff seaman's voice next to her. Carolyn's stomach tightened with surprise at his return, yet her entire being rejoiced at the same time, relieved that he was back. "You'll catch your death," he added harshly; materializing for her benefit.
"And hello to you too, Captain. I'm glad to see you remember where you live," Carolyn answered, deciding to show annoyance with his absence.
"Where I live?" Now he seemed surprised. "Why should I have forgotten where I live? I've lived here as I've always lived." The Captain surveyed the weather. "You must head below, Madam, or at least let me fetch your jacket if you intend on pursuing this watch."
"I'm not ready to go down and I don't need my jacket." She shook her head against the wind again letting the short gusts play on her senses. "For your information, Captain, I find the wind invigorating — and wonderful," she quipped.
"And misleading," he countered.
"It's just what I need," Carolyn said wondering why she was defending her actions within seconds of his return.
"Need, indeed," the Captain blustered. "Before you know it, Madam, the blasted cough will have you flat in your bunk. A nasty virus is probably charting its course into your waters now."
"It's too cold out here for a virus!" Carolyn faced him. "Why are you such a bundle of negativity? Try a little less harder to ruin my little escape, will you? I don't get them very often."
"Believe me, Madam, in the end you'll be caught one way or the other, if not by a virus then by something else. I'm only issuing common sense out of concern for your welfare, my dear."
"Ah, is that what it is," she nodded deeply to humor him. "Captain, you've only been back two seconds and you're already ordering me about as if I were part of your crew. Well, I'm not a part of your crew. You seem to have difficulty figuring out the difference between crew and passengers!"
"I know the difference."
"No, you don't. If you stayed here long enough you might be able to realize the difference, but lately you've been gone most of the time. You cruise in on a breeze whenever it pleases you and you start delegating orders the minute you get back, even when you haven't the slightest idea of what's been going on around here while you've been gone!"
The Captain recognized a mite of truth in her complaint. "Aye, perhaps I don't know what's been going on, I agree, Madam, but regardless of my recent absence, I still know what's best for you and it's not being up here in an impending gale! Any gob with half a sense would head below on a night like this. I dare say, in my short time away, and though you are lovely sight to see now, Mrs. Muir, I'll admit I have forgotten how stubborn you can be!"
"Not stubborn—" Carolyn folded her arms and raised her chin. "Independent!"
"Inflexible is more like it!" The errant seaman began to stare her down.
"Un-regimented!" She stared right back at his nose.
"Ungrateful!" he barked.
"Ungrateful!? For what?" Carolyn asked.
"That I, out of the kindness of my seaman's heart, have allowed you to live here!"
Carolyn stomped her foot. "Oh-h-h— we've crossed this road before, and how dare you bring this up now! I'm not a charity case, Captain, I pay rent!"
"On that point, I agree. You yourself said you were not a part of my crew, therefore you are a passenger and passengers pay for their passage! That is, as long as I have given permission for such persons to come aboard — which I gratefully did and you are ungrateful for it."
"You know I'm not ungrateful, but right now you're giving me good reason to want to jump ship at the next port!"
"But you wouldn't! Augh! Typical of a woman to threaten!" Captain Gregg folded his arms, too. "Do not forget Madam, that I know you! All fluff and nonsense," he said, grinning a little too wide for her taste.
She leaned in close until their eyes locked again in a stalemate. "If you keep this up, Captain, I will find a way!"
Captain Gregg chose to back off; he hadn't wanted to argue with an angel. "Oh, Madam, sometimes I truly wonder why I come back at all," he finally said in jest, but unfortunately Carolyn didn't take it that way and suddenly, she wasn't in the mood for frivolity.
"That's funny you should say that, Captain, because I find myself wondering the same thing!" she replied, hoping her bottom lip didn't give her emotions away. But he saw the tremble.
"Come now, you don't mean that," he stepped forward.
"I might." Carolyn turned back to the sea, wondering why the Captain couldn't just tell her what she wanted to know. Why should he have secrets? Why he was always leaving? She would understand his reasons of course, if only he would tell her. Was it that he didn't he trust her? And what future would their relationship have if he didn't trust her? Suddenly, Carolyn felt a tickle in her nose and sneezed, then another tickle followed and then another sneeze. "Blast!" she mumbled, wiping her nose.
"Ha-ha!" the Captain laughed from the rail. "See? I told you. Now you've brought on a chill."
Embarrassed that her ghost had won the round, Carolyn spun on her heels to leave. "Oh — why don't you go fly a kite? In a storm!"
The seaman continued to laugh as Mrs. Muir ran for the ladder and disappeared out of sight.
When Carolyn reached her room from the balcony, she saw that a small fire had been started in the hearth. Regardless that the fire had been the Captain's doing before he appeared on the roof, she went over to warm her hands.
"Madam," the Captain's voice sounded from near the telescope. "The fire should ward off any pesky viruses seeking a host. Stay close until your head is clear."
Hearing his concern, Carolyn's heart began to warm, too. She began to feel contrite knowing how deeply he really cared for her and she for him. He really only wanted the best for her, nevertheless, the simple effort of lighting a fire didn't change matters concerning her heart. "Thank you," was all she could say.
Captain Gregg subsequently materialized, his handsome form leaning on the binnacle. "So, Madam, what is it that I should know about what is going on around here? What is it that needs attention, hmm? Anything serious? I do hope you will still talk to me."
Carolyn hugged the warmth to her, refraining from looking at him by choosing to stare into the fire. "Nothing needs attention, Captain, absolutely nothing. We're all fine here. The children are fine, Martha's fine, I'm fine."
Though he knew otherwise, when he heard this tone from her, he knew the clouds were gathering. He said, "A false alarm then. Good. No harm done during my tenure away, and only a week has passed. That's not so bad." He gingerly clapped his hands together hoping he had easily ridden out the storm, but Carolyn wasn't about to let him off the hook without a fight.
"Captain, I know it's not any of my business, but—" she asked boldly, "where did you go?"
"Where did I go?" he repeated. "What makes you think I went anywhere at all?"
"You left. I know when you're gone, don't ask me how I know, but I do. Why do you leave us like that? Where do you go? I think I deserve to know."
The Captain shifted uneasily for he hadn't been prepared for the type of questions she was asking. From times before, he thought she had understood that questions with regard to his absence were unequivocally out of bounds.
"Madam, I regret that I can only say that I am here when I'm here. Let us leave it at that, shall we? My current extracurricular endeavors should be of no concern to this household."
"Oh, but they are, Captain," Carolyn said, her temper in check, waiting, her eyes affixed to the flames.
"Well, they needn't be I assure you." The Captain then joined her to warm his own hands by the fire, leaving Carolyn to wonder if this small gesture was a truce or an apology.
"Captain," she said softly, "everything you do concerns this house and everyone in it."
"I wholly understand," he said quietly, "though I believe that I am most discreet with my affairs. It is not my intention to upset the balance of this household in any way."
"Don't you see?" Carolyn pleaded, her eyes now directed at him. "That's the problem. You may think you're not upsetting the balance, but you are. Every time you leave, you throw this house into a tizzy, especially when you go without saying goodbye." She crossed her arms again and returned her eyes to the flames. "Another day comes, you're not here and I wonder where you are. Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
"Ah! I've told you before, Madam, that I am not subject to mortal ills," he interjected. "You've no need to worry about me on that account."
"But I do worry! It's my nature. And it's not only me that worries. As I've said, the children wonder where you've gone off to, too. Every time you leave, I have to try and explain your absence to the children by making up some ridiculous story so they won't get hurt thinking you've abandoned us. Which — you might very well be doing because we never know if you're coming back."
Captain Gregg was stung by the supposition. "Madam! You know I'd never abandon the children, or you, on purpose! Please say you know this!"
A long, laborious, moment followed until Carolyn finally nodded. "I know you wouldn't deliberately leave us. Not unless you had to." Carolyn knew in her heart that he would never really leave for the long term without saying goodbye.
And the Captain, somewhat satisfied that Carolyn had accepted his statement of non-abandonment of her and the children, continued. "Good. I am glad we are at least agreed on that account. I am, however, intrigued by your string of explanations to the children for my absences, Madam. Tell me, what marvelous excuse did you make up? That I needed a tune-up? Grease on my chains? A new pair of wings? That I was lost at sea and couldn't find my way home?"
"What?! No!" Carolyn turned to face him again.
"No? Well, then, as you are a writer, Mrs. Muir, I can't wait to hear what you dreamed up."
"Oh, Captain!" Carolyn was clearly ready to throw in the towel, but wouldn't give him the satisfaction of backing down. "Leave it to you not to take this as a genuine concern! And why do I even try?! Obviously you haven't a clue about what you're doing to us or how it affects us, and what's worse, when you finally do come back, like tonight, you pretend that all is the same as if you'd never gone!"
Carolyn abruptly moved to the telescope. "You — you have absolutely no concern with what you leave behind. Well, this can't go on, Captain. Something needs to change. I— we— need some sort of explanation from you. Not me to you. And we need a real explanation, one that the children and I can live with."
"Blast it all, Madam, I can't give you one!" he answered rather gruffly as if he were on trial. "Can't you be satisfied knowing that when I'm here I want to be here?"
"No." She crossed her arms again waiting for a better answer.
"I can say no more," the seaman finished.
"That's it? That's it?" Carolyn was amazed. "All right then, you tell me what I should tell the children when you disappear again, when they start asking questions again, when they miss you. What do I say?"
"Augh! Whatever you like, Madam, apparently you're very good at it."
Carolyn glared at him. He had the audacity to be cheeky by ignoring her honest concerns. "Blast it, Captain. That's not a good enough answer!" Holding herself in check, she stepped in front of him. "All I want — is to know. What's so difficult about that?"
"Can't you understand, Madam, that I can say nothing more?"
"No, I can't!" She turned her back to him. "Captain, the truth never hurt anyone."
"Mrs. Muir," he closed in behind her. "You must understand that certain truths are not for everyone to hear. And, blast it all, why have you started this bickering now and not before? I must say it's very unpleasant having just come home."
"From where?" She spun around trying to trip him up.
"Ah — You're a good one." He wagged a finger. "Your minor tactics won't work with me, my dear. As far as this issue is concerned, the subject is closed. I'll not entertain any more questions about my leave is that clear?" he demanded shifting to the binnacle where he first appeared.
"So," Carolyn was angry. "You'll just keep coming and going as you please, free — as a spirit."
"If you like, after all, that is what I am," he stated.
"And I'm only mortal, thanks for rubbing it in." Carolyn plopped herself down on her desk chair. "If I were a ghost—"
"Madam!" the Captain was on her instantly. "Do not wish for something you are not, nor for the knowledge of that which you know nothing of," he advised her carefully, his eyes glaring almost with fear. Nothing was more precious than life.
The seriousness of the matter, shown by the Captain's demeanor, impressed upon Carolyn immediately, for she had hit a chord never before heard or seen, and it was time to back down. She became more agreeable, her tone softer.
"Captain, I didn't mean anything by that. Of course, I don't want to be a ghost. And I'm not wishing for anything, Captain, just an explanation."
"Look here, Madam," he was adamant that she understand his position. "As I told you the day we met, no woman— nor anyone for that matter has kept me longer than a day's sail. I'll not be a pet poodle by the fire!"
"I know," Carolyn's voice went up again. "And I don't care if— if you're a Great Dane by the fire!" She moved to sit on the edge of her bed. "But we all live here! Not just you, or me, or the children. I think the Muir family deserves a little courtesy. Is that too much to ask?"
"Hang it all, Madam," the seaman began to pace. "I do not need a curtain lecture from you! I am as courteous as the moment allows. When have you known me not to be?"
"You're not now—" Carolyn pulled a pillow to her stomach.
"You call this discourteous, my dear? If it is rudeness, or at best, salty language you desire, believe me, I could fill that pretty head of yours with enough bilge to down a brine-laden tanker!"
"I've no doubt you could." Carolyn crossed her arms over the cushion. "So please, don't let me hold you back. You're on a roll."
"Mrs. Muir— I can do as I like and say what I like and at this moment— I am sorry I returned as soon as I have. I am appalled to think I looked forward to seeking your company or that you might possibly have taken pleasure from mine. Obviously that was an incorrect assumption. The correct assumption is that you are seriously on the verge of becoming the nagging wife I so dedicatedly avoided by remaining a bachelor, and seeing that it is your intention to continue bickering, I shall remove myself to a more safe harbor for an indefinite period of time."
"Fine!" Carolyn's lips tightened into a thin line. "You do that. Again!"
"I will! And upon my departure, I trust your prolific imagination will once more pacify the children."
"It will and they're my children not yours!"
Captain Gregg scowled. She did it again! HER children! Oh, how her words stung!
Carolyn continued. "And I'll be sure to tell them the story about the coward who couldn't tell the truth!"
"Coward!?" the seaman fumed. "I'm deserving of the Medal of Honor for heading into this battle with no artillery. By the powers!" he growled at wits end. "On these grounds I shall bid you good evening, Madam. And hear now that you are dismissed!" He then vanished with a triumphant wave of his hands.
"Captain," Carolyn shouted, "you can't keep disappearing like that! And I won't be dismissed by anyone!"
His voice echoed back. "I can— I will— and you are!"
"Uggh!" she growled back stomping her foot. "If we were married, you wouldn't get away with this!"
"Fortunately, we're not, Madam!" The voice hovered over her. "And whomever the imbecile was who stated that 'absence makes the heart grow fonder' obviously never returned home!"
"Ugghh!!" Carolyn's fists clenched at her sides. Thoroughly frustrated, she went to her bedroom door and upon opening it found Martha listening on the other side.
"Wow!" her housekeeper declared, straightening up.
"Martha, you were eavesdropping!" Carolyn exclaimed.
"You bet, Mrs. Muir. Listening to you two go at it was far superior to the movie I was watching downstairs. I came up to the bathroom, I heard you two going at it, and I was hooked at the keyhole. Wow!" She said again shaking her curler-covered head.
"You already said that," Carolyn dead-panned.
"I can't help it, Mrs. Muir. Should I say tuned or is it the same time, same channel tomorrow?"
"I wouldn't bother, Martha," Carolyn slid past her housekeeper toward the bathroom. "The tube has blown out!"
"Aw, what a shame, oh, but it was good while it lasted," Martha sighed waiting her turn for the bathroom in the hall.
XXX
"Oh, he's an infuriating man!" Carolyn blustered the next morning in her room.
"Let me guess, you're talking about the Captain, right?" said Martha setting a coffee tray down on Mrs. Muir's desk.
"Could anyone else fit that description?"
"I could name a few," her housekeeper answered. "What's the blowhard done this time? I didn't quite catch the entire plot last night."
"He hasn't done anything. Not really."
"Not anything! Well, he has to have done something to fire you up. Where is that ogre anyway? He's been AWOL for a week, I thought he was back."
Carolyn flipped the catch on her typewriter ribbon. "You might as well get used to him being gone, Martha."
"What are you saying, Mrs. Muir, the Captain's finally hit the high road to Ghostville?"
"He didn't say where he was going. And anyway, I'm not his keeper," she said rather too nonchalantly, then stifled a yawn from not enough sleep.
Martha's eyes widened. "You don't think the Captain's left Gull Cottage do you?"
"I don't know," Carolyn shrugged. "Aughh! This blasted typewriter! I've a mind to throw it over the cliff!"
"Oh, dear—" Martha wrung her hands on her apron, "Jonathan and Candy, they'd be devastated."
"What?! If I got rid of this ol' thing? You've got to be kidding!"
"No, not your typewriter, I mean if the Captain's gone! Mrs. Muir, you're taking this better than I thought you would. After all, you and he—"
"We what—?" Carolyn shot her a glance.
Martha realized she hit a nerve in her boss. "Well, the two of you— that is— the way you look at each other."
"With daggers?"
"No, but you know what I mean. Mrs. Muir. I think I'm getting a little upset at the prospect of the Captain being gone, shouldn't you be?"
"Not in the least. I could care less," Carolyn shrugged again. "He can do what he likes. In fact, if he never came back at all, I wouldn't mind."
"You can't mean that Mrs. Muir. He may be an ogre, but he's the only one we've got."
"I DO mean it!" Then, giving in to the ribbon, Carolyn pulled the stubborn reel out from the typewriter, and as soon as she did, black ink covered her hands, followed by a streak on her brow after she wiped it. "Blasted typewriter! This thing is impossible, Martha!" Her voice wavered as if she was about to cry. "This— this infernal machine only works when it wants to." She pounded it with the palm of her hands. "One day it's fine, the next— ka-plooey!" Carolyn laid her head in her blackened hands. "What I need is reliability! Something I can count on! Why don't things work the way they're suppose to anymore!?"
Seeing her friend's distress, Martha suggested that Carolyn deviate from the regular course of her day. "Mrs. Muir, I think now is a good time to take that walk on the beach you've been moaning about lately. Why don't you do that and we'll have a nice chat in the kitchen over coffee when you get back?"
"You're trying to get rid of me, Martha. You don't have to, you know, I'll be fine." Carolyn rifled through her desk drawer for another ribbon, but came up empty-handed. "But I guess I will have to go out and get a new ribbon in town."
"Now there's a perfect reason to get out. Mrs. Muir, you've been working much too hard. Maybe before you go to town you can go on that nice walk? I'd go too if I could make it down the hill, but really, you need to get outside these four walls, see what's out there. It's been a while since you headed down."
"I know. I should. I used to make it a point to go every other day. I had a reason then."
"And you still do, the reason is yourself. And, if it makes you feel any better, Mrs. Muir," Martha admitted, "I miss the Captain too when he's gone. I miss him every time I do the laundry." She chuckled, "I've gotten used to him giving me weather reports, I rely on him to tell me if it's a good day to hang laundry out to dry. He's nearly always right."
"Well, Martha," Carolyn advised her housekeeper. "For the time being you'll have to rely on instinct I'm afraid."
"If I have to, I suppose," the older woman sighed. "Nevertheless, Captain Gregg's taught me a lot about predicting weather. And to think I used to take my chances by just stepping out and looking at the sky. What was I thinking? Be that as it may, Mrs. Muir, why don't you get yourself cleaned up and I'll take the coffee back down and put it on the warmer."
"All right, I know when I'm licked." But as Martha headed toward the door Carolyn stopped her. "Martha?"
"Yes, Mrs. Muir?"
"You know he came back last night."
"Mmm, yes, that's a late show I'll never forget. Better than Carson in my opinion. Any special reason he's gone AWOL again, Mrs. Muir?" she asked stepping halfway back into the room.
"I don't know, but it seems, I guess, that he'd rather be away than here. All I did was ask him where he goes off to. I have a right to know, haven't I?" Carolyn asked.
Martha shifted her heavy figure while thinking before she answered. "Well, I don't really know, Mrs. Muir. Depends on where he goes I suppose. Did you ever think he might not go anywhere? Maybe he stays here and sulks in the attic. He is a moody fellow. Who's to say he's not up on the roof or listening to us now? He doesn't have to be far away to be gone."
Carolyn glanced around the room wondering if the Captain could indeed be listening, but he couldn't be. What Martha didn't understand is that Carolyn always had a strange feeling when the Captain was in the vicinity and more importantly, she knew when he was gone. Really gone.
"I know he isn't here, Martha," Carolyn assured her. "Trust me."
"Well, you and I both know the Captain has the odd advantage. He can disappear like that." The housekeeper snapped her fingers. "So I don't know, Mrs. Muir, all this spirit mumbo-jumbo, it's so mysterious. We don't know what's happening on his side of the tracks any more than we do on ours, not until we take the train ourselves. Maybe we don't have a right to know where the tracks lead, not yet anyway."
"You may be right, Martha. I haven't looked at it that way before or not lately anyway," Carolyn confessed. "Maybe we're not supposed to know. Have I been terribly selfish wanting to know where he goes?"
"Mrs. Muir, isn't it enough that the Captain is here as much as he is?"
Carolyn couldn't believe she heard. "That's exactly what the Captain said!" She told Martha. "He said that 'when he's here, he wants to be here.' But why doesn't he tell us when he's leaving? I'd feel so much better if we knew. It's the least he could do for us. There'd be so much less disruption in our lives."
"Disruption? Why, we do fine, Mrs. Muir. Now I don't mean to be rude or have you take this the wrong way, but personally, I think it's you who finds it the most unsettling, considering— everything. You know, the big picture."
"Seems as though history delights in repeating itself," Carolyn observed. "I feel like a seaman's widow."
"Maybe you're right, but I don't think so this time, Mrs. Muir. The Captain's different. Give him time. And give yourself time, too. Maybe he can't tell us where he goes or he's not supposed to. Like I said, Mrs. Muir, I'll never understand the spirit world until I've got my own seat in the caboose, but I have learned to live with the spirit we do have and I think I'm doing a pretty good job of it if I do say so myself."
Carolyn chuckled, "We all are— well— except for Claymore." The women then laughed heartily.
"I've been a no good busy-body," Carolyn said. "I should be grateful the Captain's here at all."
"That's one way to look at it. And I wouldn't worry about him gone missing Mrs. Muir. I can't vouch for what he's doing, but look at it this way, I doubt there's another woman involved."
"Please," Carolyn rolled her eyes, smiling.
Her housekeeper added, "You have to agree he's not like any other man we've known."
"You can say that again."
"Remember, Mrs. Muir, there are things about him we don't think about much. He can't go out to work like other fellas, and I'm sure he still has his pride. He probably misses the long voyages he was used to and these little vacations he's taking might be his way of reliving going out to sea. Then again, maybe he goes away so he can have the feeling of coming home from a long voyage— back to his family. To you, Mrs. Muir."
Carolyn's eyes began to glisten with tears. "And to think I sent him right back out. Oh, I feel terrible, Martha, what am I going to do? I should have realized that if he could tell me he would." She slipped onto her desk chair, her shoulders sagging, "Who's the mean old ogre now?"
"Ooh," Martha cooed in a motherly fashion. "Not you, Mrs. Muir, this is really all hypothetical nonsense. We don't know what's going on any more than we can really predict the weather, but maybe these are ideas to work from. Maybe it's not what we think at all."
"And you're sure it's not another woman?" Carolyn grinned through watery eyes.
"He is a man of mystery, Mrs. Muir but don't you worry, if there were another woman and she showed her face around here, I'd let her know who's the boss." Carolyn smiled as Martha gestured for her to get up and get going. "Now, Mrs. Muir, you've got a nice walk in the offing. Let's go down. I'll keep the coffee warm," Martha assured her and ushered her friend down the stairs.
XXX
Indeed Carolyn did go for a walk. June was a wonderful time for a morning stroll on the beach and the mistress of Gull Cottage chided herself for not getting down the cliffs more often. Her thoughts meandering, drifting around in her head like the gulls above, she recalled that it was only three short years ago her little family settled in Schooner Bay. Carolyn reckoned her heart had always been here in this place though — like the Captain's had been — and she had merely come home to where she was supposed to be.
Kicking a piece of driftwood and watching it roll to a stop just before the waves licked it, she hoped in vain her ghost would return soon. When he did, she had made another promise to herself that she would welcome him with open arms, present him with her signature smile, and not drive him away with endless, unimportant questions. Captain Gregg belonged here, as she did, and deep down she knew he wouldn't really leave her unless he had just cause.
As she walked around the outcrop of rocks she spied from above the night before, Carolyn surmised that the Captain was in a position where surely there were other spectral splendors he could enjoy, yet she was always amazed he had chosen to stay earthbound, grounded in Gull Cottage. Was the other side not all it was purported to be and haunting Gull Cottage was a far sight better than what lay ahead for him? Regardless of the answer, Captain Gregg remained a faithful landlubber, perhaps because he had no choice in the matter or perhaps he stayed because of her.
Carolyn continued walking, drawing in great gulps of sea air into her lungs. She picked up another long gnarl of bleached driftwood grabbing both ends as if it were a rolling pin. She mused at how like the Captain the branch seemed, old and full of the scars of time from a truly obstinate nature. Like him, the smoothed over wood had been alive once and now it was a dead thing, yet still beautifully handsome and full of irresistible character. How could something devoid of any real life still be attractive enough that one would want to look at it, know it, caress it and keep it?
Her own children collected pieces of driftwood similar to the one she held in her hands. They delighted in taking their finds home, admiring what used to be and observing how the weather of time had changed the wood into something completely different than what it was. Whatever form the driftwood had taken, it was still there long after the life had gone out of it, still demanding the full attention to be held and nurtured by those who cared.
Carolyn smiled to herself and flung her piece of driftwood into the beckoning sea, knowing that no matter how far she threw it, eventually the wood would roll back to shore in the hissing froth to be carried by someone once more and be admired again. The Captain was like that — he always came back, riding like a great steed over the foam.
And as she walked on, another notion swirled into Carolyn's head, her imagination stretched to its fullest. She was being given a first hand taste of the life of a seaman's wife and so far, she was failing miserably at it. Her early assessment of the honored position told her she wasn't handling the role with the dignity required. Whiney was more like it. Captain Gregg had only been gone for a week and when he returned, instead of being grateful that her stallion had come home unscathed from the rigors of the sea, she drove him away in record time with a harder whip to the rear.
Carolyn closed her eyes, sighing against the mid-morning sun, wondering. Had this been another time, maybe a hundred years ago when the Captain was alive, could she have coped? How would she have reacted if he were gone longer than a week? If it were a week or a year, wouldn't she care just the same? Wouldn't she wonder if he was safe, or if he'd ever come back, as she had wondered only two days ago?
Of course, that was her greatest fear. If he would come back. Sometimes men didn't come back and Carolyn knew that first hand. Needless to say, if she had been in his time, she was beginning to believe the Captain's career as a seaman would have haunted her, his duty pulling him away for months. Yet, that was his life, brave and courageous, all he ever wanted to do. No one had the right to take that away, not her, not anyone. Not even in his afterlife, especially if his absences were merely symbolic of his life at sea.
Since Carolyn had met the spirited seaman, the essence of his life had spilled over into hers and she had let it do so freely, never thinking to stop it, and this allowed her own life to change dramatically in a way she never thought it could. And the Captain's courageous bravery, she found, had stayed with him, demonstrated faithfully by his courage to stay near her. He was indeed her knight in shining armor, a better dream never came true, she thought, as she headed back to the castle with a renewed spirit.
A short time later, after coffee with Martha, Carolyn headed into town for a new typewriter ribbon. Again, she glanced at the neat typewriter in the window feeling much like a child wanting a toy she couldn't have. She wished someone would buy the blasted thing so the sight wouldn't gnaw at her anymore.
XXX
Three very introspective days later, before Carolyn had a chance to cut the engine on the station wagon from bringing the kids home from school, Candy and Jonathan jumped out of the car and raced up the walk to meet their dog, Scruffy, who skittered down in a clackety blur. And moments later, after Carolyn retrieved her belongings from the front seat of the car, Captain Gregg appeared by her side.
"Captain!" She nearly dropped her briefcase. "You startled me!" She generously swung her head to clear the hair from her eyes.
"My apologies, Madam, I hadn't meant to." He courteously took her briefcase during their awkward reunion.
"It's good to see you," Carolyn managed to say, determined to give him the best smile she had. "Welcome back."
"From where, Madam? I haven't left."
"But — you were gone — I haven't seen you." Carolyn stated.
"Merely waiting out the storm," he advised her with a rise of his heels.
"What storm?"
"The storm in which we both nearly drowned," he said meaningfully. "Fortunately, I believe time was our life-line."
"Ah." Carolyn glanced down at the flagstones under her feet then back at him, "Captain, you'll be happy to know the storm over Gull Cottage has passed."
"Indeed it seems as though it has," he soaked up Carolyn's beguiling smile as they sauntered up the walk. Carolyn halted at the front steps and turned to the Captain.
"It's my turn to apologize for my behavior Captain. I guess the stress of work— I let it get to me and you got the brunt of it. Maybe you're aware or maybe you're not, but it hasn't been easy lately. I know it's no excuse for me lashing out at you because of my problems."
"Quite understandable, Madam, under the circumstances."
"And, I now realize that what you do is your own affair. I have no business asking you how you spend your time. I guess I'm just too much of a busy-body."
"You're a woman, need I say more?" the Captain said diving his free hand into his pocket.
"Ah, but I'm a concerned busybody," Carolyn added.
Captain Gregg leaned in slightly, "My dear Mrs. Muir, your curiosity is an innate property of your femaleness and though often irritating I wouldn't have you any other way."
Carolyn grinned and glanced at the house and then at the sea. Turning back to him she asked, "Do you know what day this is?"
"Not my birthday I hope, I've already had two."
"No, it's not your birthday. Does — June 12th ring a ship's bell?"
"Only that it is the day I shall remember your lovely eyes flashing as brilliantly as the sea — as they are now." Carolyn's grin widened further and he devoured her joy saying, "What could possibly make this day more special than that?"
"Captain — it's our anniversary," she announced gently.
"Anniversary?" His brow went up as he rubbed his beard.
"Mmm-hmm. This is June 12th. It was three years ago today we came to Gull Cottage," she informed him.
"Three years, by heavens! Oh, my dear, how time gets away from us."
"You're right, I can hardly believe it either."
"Why, it seems like only yesterday I saw you walk up these flagstones. That too was a day I shall always remember. The day you brought me to life again," he said tenderly.
"The very same day — I found you," Carolyn admitted with a distinct waver in her voice. The awkwardness between them returned, though Captain Gregg managed to rescue the moment.
"So," he teased her, looking stern as if he were giving orders. "From now on you agree that my dealings are private, unless of course they concern you?"
"Aye, Captain," she agreed, but Carolyn fully intended to lay down her own terms as well. "I'll agree only if, from now on, whenever possible, you give us advance notice of your departures."
"Agreed absolutely!" the seaman nodded with one set of fingers crossed behind his back.
Then, knowing there was no more to be said, they walked into the Gull Cottage where the sound of Jonathan and Candy's joy over the Captain's return could be happily heard over the waves below.
XXX
Upstairs a few minutes later, Carolyn stepped into her room with her belongings, ready to start work again, but she immediately noticed something was amiss. A quick survey led her to her desk where therein she noticed the difference. There on her blotter sat a shiny, new IBM Selectric I typewriter! The very same typewriter she had seen in Smitty's store window only days ago — her old machine was gone!
Astonished by the extravagance of the unexpected surprise, she slowly sat down on her chair and laid her purse down. Where did the typewriter come from? She wondered. Was it a gift? Further inspection showed her that the power cord had been plugged into the socket below her bed lamp and unable to resist temptation, she found the typewriter's switch, pressed it, and the machine came to life. With a hand to her ear, she smiled at the typewriter's delightful hum as it sang its happy song.
Carolyn deftly grabbed a sheet of paper and slipped it into the roller to type a sampling of text, but before she hit the first key, the keys began tapping away on their own. When the typing stopped, three of the most wonderful words she'd ever seen illuminated the page. Carolyn's eyes instantly brimmed with tears upon reading — Happy Anniversary, Darling!
Instantly, all of the anguish of the recent weeks made sense and fell into place.
"Captain! You did this!" Carolyn said. "That's why you were gone so much, wasn't it?" The ghost didn't respond, but she called out again for she knew the Captain was in the room. She had the feeling. "Captain? Captain?" She glanced about and waited.
"As I've told you before, my dear, it's rather difficult to transact business in my current state. It took quite some doing," his voice came into her ears.
"Captain, this machine is four hundred and eighty dollars! Is this a gift? How did you—?"
"Now belay that, Madam! For you, my dear, money is no object. The means are unimportant."
"Oh, Captain! I don't understand how you did it, but I know you did it for me. And I don't think you know what this means to me! To all of us! Thank you!"
"Oh, but I do, if only I could do more," the spirit answered, his voice coming from no specific place.
"Captain, I'm so sorry about all of this. About the thoughts I was thinking." She stroked the streamlined machine. "And you remembered our anniversary, too! I didn't think you'd remember."
"Of course I remembered, Madam! I may be dead, but I'm not senile, and the moment we met was an occasion I'll never forget." The Captain finally materialized behind her.
Carolyn turned to him with a huge grin. She felt like a child in a candy shop as her eyes began to sting with tears.
"Blast!" she said, half laughing and half crying. "I want to type on my new typewriter, but now I can't see to do it!" Then, after she fingered away the bothersome tears, she gently laid her fingers on the keys.
"Now it's my turn, Captain." Carolyn then carefully typed three short words on the bristling white paper and motioned for the Captain to move closer to read them. After he read them, he smiled. They were small words, yes, and some might even consider them insignificant if each were on their own; however, when the three words were strung together in a certain way, indeed, they were judged by many to be the most wonderfully powerful words ever written. The seaman then knelt down beside Carolyn to once again enjoy the green flash of her eyes and said "My sentiments exactly."
The End