14-TABITHA12
When she returned to the house that afternoon, Carolyn announced firmly that she had writing to do and was not to be disturbed for any reason. Armed only with her plug in coffee pot and a large pitcher of ice water, she went to work on the three half-finished articles she had to have done for her Monday deadline.
Captain Gregg, Jonathan Candy and Scruffy headed for the beach for an afternoon of sun and fishing. Martha passed on the fishing as she still had housework and laundry to finish, and a birthday project of her own to work on for the Captain (Not that she said anything about that to him!)
The afternoon passed quickly. Carolyn finished her two smaller articles that were due. Around three o'clock she had begun working on the third . . . a re-telling of one of the Captain's sea adventures in Tahiti when she looked down in dismay . . . Her typewriter ribbon had played out. She had been typing on an empty sheet of paper for the last ten minutes!
"Blast, Blast! And double Blast!" she exclaimed, running down the stairs to the telephone.
"What's up?" Martha inquired, coming out of her bedroom "Are you out of coffee? I can make more . . . "
"No . . . Blast! Blast! My typewriter ribbon just died . . . And I don't have another one!"
"Well . . . is that a big deal? Just call the office supply store in town and . . ."
"They better have one," muttered Carolyn. "Hello? . . . Peggy? This is Carolyn Muir. I'm fine Peggy. Listen, do you have my typewriter ribbon in stock? You don't? Bla . . . I mean, darn! Where do you get your supplies from? Keystone? What's the name of the store? Bishop's Office Supply? Great. Thanks, Peg. I appreciate it." Carolyn hung up.
"Good news?" Martha inquired "You know, you really need to start buying more than one ribbon at a time Mrs. Muir . . ."
"I know, I know, I know . . ." replied Carolyn and she dialed another number. " Bishop's Office Supply? Could you please tell me. Do you have a typewriter ribbon for a Royal Typewriter model RA500? You do? Three of them? Terrific. My name is Carolyn Muir. Please hold them for me. I will be there to get them in an hour. Thank-you!" She looked at Martha. "Well, there's two hours wasted! I have to go back to Keystone this afternoon!" She dashed upstairs to get dressed.
Little did she know they would be one of the best two hours she ever spent!
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Carolyn dressed in her red pantsuit, hurriedly applied a little makeup, ran a comb through her hair and headed for the car. "If the kids get back with Captain Gregg, I'll be back by dinnertime Martha!" Carolyn put her trusty station wagon in gear and headed for Keystone.
As Carolyn headed into the office supply store, she realized that it was located right up the street from the nautical antique store she had visited that morning. After securing the typewriter ribbons and a few other needed office supplies, Carolyn decided to go by the antique store again, just to see if she had missed anything or any new articles had come in. The clerk was the same man that had been there that morning when she was in the store with Candy and Jonathan. He smiled as she came in the door.
"I'm glad to see you back again! No children this time? What did you do with them? Sell them to the gypsies?" he grinned. "I hoped you would come back! A few new articles have come in . . . Thought you might want to take a look . . . my wife, she owns this shop . . . is in the back marking them, now." He smiled. "Sure glad you came back! What sort of thing are you looking for?"
"I don't know, exactly! Something that would fit the most irritating, irascible, infuriating, dashing daring, magnificent sea-captain of a man I have ever known . . . but of course, something I can afford!" Carolyn replied with a smile.
"Tall order!" The man replied. "By the way, I'm Andrew, My wife . . . she's Virginia . . . Ginny for short. Hey, Ginny! Customer out here!" He looked back at Carolyn. "She gets involved back there. Here are our new items . . ."
That was when Carolyn saw it. She knew this was it — what she wanted — what she had to get for Captain Gregg. A chart rack! It looked exactly like the one she had given away so thoughtlessly to the salvage people three years before! It couldn't be the same one . . . , could it? She looked at the rack closely, and found a small gold plaque mounted on the side.
Given to Captain Daniel Elias Gregg
for Outstanding Military Service
By Admiral James Nelson
In this Year of Our Lord '1850'
Carolyn choked. This is it! She thought. I didn't think I would ever see this again, or ever have a chance to really make up for . . . She turned to Andrew, trying desperately to keep her voice steady. "This chart rack . . . how much do you want for it?"
"Let me see . . . "Andrew replied. "It's marked at two-hundred. We've actually had it around for a while; Just moved it from another section of the store — not too many calls for chart racks these days, except maybe as decorations in seafood restaurants! My wife might let it go for one-seventy-five . . . Ginny! Customer out here! She needs to talk to you!"
"May I help you?" A tall woman, with reddish-brown hair appeared out of the back room. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting, but you know how it is! Work for yourself, and the work never stops!"
"I know what you mean!" laughed Carolyn, thinking of how many late nights she had spent in front of her typewriter. "I want to know about this chart-rack. Your husband Andrew says you have had it for a while and it hasn't sold yet . . . What would you be willing to take for it?"
"Well, I could go as low as one-seventy, but not much less than that . . ."
"Please . . . I don't have that much . . . Is there any way you would consider any less?"
Virginia smiled. "Look, I like you, but you sound sort of desperate! What is the emergency about a chart rack of all things?" she asked, slightly bewildered.
"The . . . person . . . the man I want it for . . . he . . . collects things like this. It's his birthday. He'd be thrilled to get it, but I just don't have that much! Would you consider a payment arrangement? I don't carry credit cards . . ." said Carolyn desperately.
"Well," said Ginny, with another smile "Lets talk. Do you live near here? Maybe you can come work in my shop . . . or something like that. I'm willing to barter with you, but I don't even know your name yet!"
Carolyn blushed. "I'm sorry! No, I don't live near here. I live in Schooner Bay. I'm a writer. My name is Carolyn Muir — "
"Not THE Carolyn Muir!" Ginny gasped. "Not the one who wrote Maiden Voyage!? I'm so thrilled to meet you!"
"That's me!" Carolyn blushed again "Actually, that's US . . . I had some help with that story!"
"But I've read everything you've written!" said Ginny, delighted. "I have Memoirs of a Sea Captainback here in my office. Won't you please autograph it for me?"
"I'd be happy to, but about the chart rack . . . you see, the person it's for, it's for the same man . . . the one who helped me write Maiden Voyage. It's his birthday on the eighth, and I really must get this for him . . ."
"I have an idea . . . " Cut in Andrew, who had been listening the entire time. He turned to his wife. "Darling, you have been moaning about not having time to write the advertising for the shop you need to for the newspaper and radio because you are so busy here. Why don't you work out a deal with Carolyn and have her do it? Maybe that way I'll get to see you at home once in a while!"
Both women looked at him with delight. "That's perfect!" they chorused together.
"Just one more thing . . ." said Ginny.
"Yes?" said Carolyn, warily.
"I only live a few minutes away. I told you I have everything you've ever written. I have it all in a scrapbook . . . along with your book of course. Let me go home and get my scrapbook and find the Memoirs so you can autograph them for me?"
Carolyn gave her another hug. "For what you are about to do for me, I'll put you and Andrew in a story some day!"
"Deal!" said Ginny, as she headed for the door.
Twenty minutes later, the chart rack had been carefully wrapped in a burlap cover and loaded in the station wagon. Carolyn and Virginia had worked out a lady's agreement covering the terms and such for her writing the advertising for the store, and had exchanged telephone numbers. It wasn't until she was half way back to Schooner Bay that Carolyn realized . . . She couldn't take the chart rack home! One might be able to smuggle wrapping paper, or even a model ship into the house, but not this!
"Blast again!" said Carolyn. "I have to go see Claymore! He can store it at his office . . . and bring it up in the eighth in Ed's truck. Guess who is coming to a birthday party after all! And I still have one more article to finish today!" She headed toward her landlord's office, but her heart was light.