SECOND CHANCES

Part Four

Some time later, in the attic of Gull Cottage Captain Gregg stood silently by the window, watching the Muir children playing in the yard. With Scruffy playfully jumping at their feet, Candy was giving Jonathan pointers on the fine art of hitting a baseball. The Captain usually took pleasure in such observances, but today it only served to drive home his growing feelings of inadequacy, feelings which were completely foreign to him prior to meeting the family now in residence in his home.

Poor lad! Learning a man's game like baseball at the hands of a female. The Captain shook his head, failing to dismiss the other thought fighting for expression. A boy should learn from a man, from his father. How I wish...

Martha's voice could be heard calling from the stairway near the kitchen, distracting him momentarily.

"Mrs. Muir, dinner is nearly ready!"

"Thank you, Martha. I'll be down in a minute."

"Okay. I'll call in the troops."

"Right. Make sure they wash up for dinner!"

As he listened to the brief exchange, the Captain could hear the strain of their earlier conversation in Carolyn's voice. She had been crying and he knew it. And once again, he was powerless to comfort her. What's more, it tortured him to know he was the cause of her pain.

"Blast!" He pounded the window frame in frustration, unleashing a torrent of dust into the air.

"Now Captain, I'd have hoped that a century of solitude would have cured you of that temper."

The Captain turned to face the voice behind him. A moment's hesitation soon gave way to recognition and he realized his uninvited guest was a spirit known only as Digby, a high ranking emissary of the spirit world. Gray haired and attired in a full English morning coat and ascot, Digby was the very image of proper British authority. In fact, in life he had been courtier to royals. In death, he had continued to serve, albeit a higher authority.

The Captain recalled that their first, and last, meeting had been at the time of his death a century ago. Digby had informed him upon his passing that his spirit was tied to Gull Cottage and would remain so until further notice. Needless to say, their last meeting was not particularly pleasant for either of them, especially not for one, recently deceased, Daniel Gregg.

"Digby. To what do I owe this dubious honor? Or is it your habit to drop by once every hundred years or so with bad news?"

"And the sarcasm remains as well. It's good to see some things never change, old boy." He cheerfully patted the Captain on the shoulder, prompting a rather sideways look from the wary mariner.

"If we can dispense with the pleasantries, I assume there is a reason you have boarded my ship without permission. I should like to hear it." His voice, calm and controlled, belied the fact that the Captain was certainly not in the mood for visitors.

"I have been sent to help, my boy. Apparently there is a problem which necessitates...shall we say, divine intervention?" Digby toyed with the ends of his handlebar mustache as he spoke, obviously enjoying the Captain's predicament.

"Whatever are you babbling about? Shove off, man. I'll see you in another hundred years." He dismissed Digby with a wave of his hand and turned back to the window facing the now empty yard.

"Indeed?" Digby got straight to the business at hand. "I have been told that your present...arrangement has become rather intolerable for all involved. Is this not so?"

The Captain again turned to face Digby. Suddenly realizing the seriousness of the situation, he acknowledged to himself that one did not receive a visit from such an esteemed emissary for social reasons. The fact that he was apparently aware of the current troubles under The Captain's roof was certainly not good news.

Deciding to minimize the damage, the Captain spoke in more friendly tones.

"Oh, just a bit of rough seas at the moment, nothing to be concerned about." He casually crossed his arms and stroked his beard. "I'm afraid you've wasted your time here. We shall weather this squall, as we always have."

"'Rough seas', Captain? I'm afraid there is a bit more to it than that. I am very well informed of your situation. Despite your mutual affection the children are confused, Mrs. Muir is increasingly unhappy..."

The Captains' posture snapped to attention, rigidly defensive at the mere mention of Carolyn's name, not to mention the invasion of privacy.

"Bilge! You pop in here for the first time in a century and proceed to tell me about my family. You know nothing about her..."

"I know that she is a beautiful, vibrant young woman courageously raising two wonderful children." He paused and squarely met the Captain's icy gaze before continuing. "And I know that if this present situation continues she will never again feel the touch of a man who loves her."

The Captain felt his Irish temper bubble with the frustration of hearing the truth, their truth, spoken for the first time, from the lips of an outsider. Barely controlling his rage, he approached the tidy man before him, unconsciously extending his long arm in the direction of the attic door.

"GET OUT! Get out before I toss you to the sharks! You meddling, insolent,..."

"I shall do no such thing," interrupted Digby, nonplused by the Captain's outburst. "Get control of yourself, my dear Captain. As I've said, I was sent to help resolve this problem and resolve it we shall." Digby clasped his hands behind him and reared back on his heels in determined confidence.

The Captain, regaining his composure, stood down and straightened his jacket. He nodded respectfully to the older man, a silent apology which was met with small nod in return.

"I suppose you have some solution in mind," said the Captain, not really wanting to hear the answer.

"No, actually...I wanted to hear from you first. And I rather hoped that you could provide some solution yourself."

"I cannot devise a solution to a problem I do not recognize." He stood stubbornly straight, tugging at his shirtsleeves.

"Oh, come now, Captain," huffed Digby. "Surely you must recognize how unfair this situation is. I mean, you are bound by the spirit world, but Mrs. Muir is not."

"What are you saying, man? Stop pussyfooting around, out with it!"

"As you wish. Man to man, don't you think it a bit harsh to condemn that beautiful young woman to a life of celibacy?"

The Captain's breath caught in his throat. Although he had always been comfortable discussing such matters among men in the past, the fact that it now involved Carolyn disturbed him greatly. The fact that it involved his own shortcomings disturbed him even more. He tried to lighten the mood and divert the conversation.

"Well, there's more to life than sex, isn't there?" The Captain managed a small wry smile.

"Coming from you, I find that rather amusing," Digby sniffed. He casually pulled out a handkerchief from his breast pocket and dusted off a chair. Seating himself, he carefully folded and replaced the small white cloth before continuing. "Tell me, Daniel, if the situation were reversed would you be able to forever resist the temptations of the flesh in favor of a spiritual lover?"

The Captain shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Once again, this was not a conversation he wanted to have, but there would be no getting around it now. As much as he didn't like it, he knew Digby wielded a great deal of power, and was a member of the inner circle of the spirit world to which they both belonged. He felt like a cabin boy called onto the carpet by his commanding officer. He was aware of a growing uneasiness at the turn their conversation had taken. He spoke quietly and deliberately, hating the fact that he had to share his most personal feelings.

"Despite the fact that we have never touched, I have gained more from my relationships within this family than all the other previous relationships in my life...or since."

"I do not doubt that for a moment. Alas, you have no choice in the matter, you must accept what what you are given. The Muir's are here by choice, although I suspect they are not completely free to go..." His voice trailed off, holding something back.

"I have no hold over them," responded the Captain to the unspoken inference.

"Don't you? Perhaps we have arrived at the root of our problem. Do you not realize the commitment that family has made to you?"

"Commitment? There can be no commitment, that has become very clear lately." The Captain turned his thoughts to the conversation which took place in the master bedroom just a short time ago. It all came back in a rush, the heated words, the tears, the flood of emotion, the anguish he felt at being directly asked for something as simple as a hug by the woman he so desperately loved and being unable to give it.

Digby sat in silence, staring up at the Captain as though reading his thoughts.

"You are all suffering, Captain. That much is obvious. What is not obvious, I suppose, is that we are partly to blame. And for that you have my sincerest apologies."

The Captain sat next to Digby, on the sea chest in which he kept his most valuable treasures. "What do you mean 'partly to blame'?"

Digby rose from the chair, clearing his throat. "You see, Captain, a complicated series of events brought you and the Muir's together in this house. I am unable to discuss them all with you at this moment. But, under the circumstances, it seemed the best fit for all involved. However, we underestimated the depths to which the emotional attachments would go. Emotions are so unpredictable, you know...makes my job quite difficult."

The Captain leaned his elbows on his knees and pressed his fist up to his lips. Of course, he knew that there were parts of the afterlife of which he had little or no knowledge. He had often wondered whether he and Carolyn had been brought together intentionally by some cruel manner of fate, or if their meeting had been truly accidental and was unbeknownst to the powers that be. It was easy to imagine himself forgotten by the spirit world as he toiled away the years alone in the out of the way cottage. Either way, he had alternately cursed and revered that very day in which Carolyn had come into his afterlife, bringing him face to face with a variety of emotions that he had never felt before.

"Is there a point to all of this? I mean you have boarded my ship, invaded my privacy...and for what? To relieve your guilty conscience? Let me assure you, we have managed just fine and will continue to do so without the benefit of your interference. Now if you'll leave me in peace..."

"I am afraid it's not that easy, my boy."

The Captain braced himself, knowing that the true reason for Digby's visit was about to become apparent.

"As you know, our world must never interfere with the world of the living. Granted, at times our paths may cross, but it is not acceptable to alter their destiny or to profoundly impact their lives beyond our intended purpose. At first, your spiritual presence here eased the pain of a young family trying to start anew. The boy needed you, that was your initial purpose. As for the lady, that was supposed to have been a lesson for you. A penance, of sorts, for a variety of sins." Digby arched a disapproving eyebrow at the last remark. "In any case, I'm afraid it got out of hand without our realizing."

"I don't like the course you are steering," the Captain said abruptly. The last thing he needed was a reminder of his previous dalliances with women who were not Carolyn. "Where are you headed?"

"It was a mistake, Captain. You are now the source of pain to those in the living world. Your presence colors their actions. Caring for them as you do, I am sure you can see that this arrangement is no longer practical."

The Captain felt a flush across his entire being, he now knew his greatest fears were realized. He was about to be taken from the family, his family. He rose from his seat.

"Now wait just a blasted minute...you said yourself that we did nothing to deserve this! You, personally, tied me to this house and you've just admitted that you brought the Muir's here. Now you think that you can just haul me off my own ship like some misbehaving schoolboy off a playground?"

"Nobody is hauling you anywhere, Captain. That's not the way we work. I am merely an objective observer, a messenger, reminding you of your spiritual obligations. Gull Cottage is your home and you have every right to be here. The Muir family, bearing a legal lease, also has that right. However, under the circumstances, we are releasing you from the confines of the house. What you choose to do from here is your decision. I shall return in due time to discuss this matter further. Hopefully we can work out an arrangement that is best for all involved. I am sure you would want to act the best interests of the family."

"It is in the best interest of any family to be kept together." It was a plea as much as a statement.

"I know this is both difficult and extremely personal, Captain." Digby sounded quite sincere and sympathetic to the Captain's plight. "However, you have made many difficult decisions in your storied career and I trust your wisdom to prevail here as well. I will leave you to it. Good day." And with a respectful nod Digby was gone.

The Captain stood for a moment, pondering the gravity of the meeting which had just taken place.

Blast him! Trying to scuttle my ship! I am in command here, and I am quite capable of protecting my crew. Still he was unable to dismiss the thought nagging at the back of his mind, the growing fear that his mere presence was a detriment to those he swore to protect.

It was quite a while before he left the attic and the entire household had retired for the night. He made his way about the silent house, checking up on his loved ones. He paused for a long moment in the children's room, watching them sleep. He noticed a paper sticking out from beneath Jonathan's pillow. Carefully, he took it in his hands and held it to the window, illuminating it with moonlight. It was folded in two, a homemade card with a crude unfinished drawing of a fully rigged schooner on the front. Inside there was a message, written in blue crayon.

Dear Captain Gregg,

Happy Father's Day!

Love, Jonathan

P.S. It would be neat if you were really my dad.

Holding the paper, the Captain felt his hands trembling. The sheer emotion of the days events weighed heavily on his strong shoulders. He replaced the paper and looked down at the sleeping little boy.

Oh lad, would that I were your father. Gazing out the window he searched the heavens for an answer. He once again heard the voices ringing in his minds ear.

Your present arrangement has become intolerable for all involved.

The children are confused, Mrs. Muir is unhappy...

I have the best dad in the whole world and I can't even tell anybody...

I don't want to go to the dance with Claymore, I wanna go with Captain Gregg...

I can't pretend anymore... our life is just one big formal tea party to you.

She will never again feel the touch of a man who loves her

I just want a hug...

He suddenly realized that Digby was right, he did have the ultimate hold over the family. They loved him and he knew that they would never willingly leave him, no matter how frustrating their nontraditional life together became. He also admitted that they would never have another living man in their lives as long as they remained in Gull Cottage. His own jealousy and possessiveness had clouded his judgment for so long that he had never before considered the implications of that fact for the living members of his family. Candy would never have a father to escort her to a dance or down the aisle of marriage, Jonathan would never sit next to his father at a Red Sox game and, as for Carolyn, much as it pained him to admit it, she did deserve the love of a man. A real live man who could give her the things he knew he never could. Things, as Digby had pointed out, he certainly had never denied himself in life. He had lived his life in his own time and now was interfering in the Muir family's ability to do the same.

Shaken and unable to overcome his feelings the Captain returned, sullen and morose, to his attic, bypassing the room in which Carolyn was sleeping. He knew that if he saw her, lying peacefully in his bed that he would never find the strength to do what he knew he must.