"Children." Mrs. Muir appeared in the doorway. "Time to wash up for dinner." Her voice – constrained as it was – was drowned out by another crash of thunder, but the kids seemed to have understood anyway and came towards her.
"Have you seen that thunderstorm, Mum?"
She nodded and placed her hand on her son's head. "It's kind of hard to miss."
"It's the Captain," Jonathan proudly announced as the three of them crossed the hall to go to the kitchen in order to wash their hands.
"He's avenging us," Candy added.
Mrs. Muir's eyebrows shot up. "Avenging you?"
"Yeah. For what happened at school today," Jonathan explained.
"So what happened at school today?" Mrs. Muir inquired reluctantly. She certainly had an inkling, but...
And while Martha put dinner on the table, Jonathan and Candy repeated what they had told the Captain earlier on. Until the pansy comment, when their mother abruptly sat down, her hand covering her mouth. She was as pale as a ghost.
"Are you alright, Mum?" Candy's voice leapt an octave in her worry.
"Yes... No. I mean..." Claymore must have known and didn't want to tell me... Oh God, what have I gotten us into, moving up here?!
Jonathan regarded her with a grave mien. "But what is a pansy?"
When his mother didn't make a reply, no-nonsense Martha decided to step in. "A pansy is a man who falls in love with another man."
The kids stared at her. "You mean... like wanting to marry another man?" Candy ventured, not sure if she had understood correctly.
"Exactly. Now why don't you all sit down. Your dinner is getting cold."
Nobody budged.
"Why would they want to do that?" Jonathan wanted to know. "I thought men were supposed to marry girls!"
"They are. But some men want to marry another man instead. Now sit down! Dinner isn't getting any warmer."
Reluctantly, Jonathan did as he was told. But Candy wasn't finished with the topic yet. "But our Dad married Mum! He didn't marry another man, too, did he?"
"Of course not," came her mother's quiet voice. "Your Dad was the sweetest, loveliest man ever alive. He wouldn't do a thing like that."
"Then why are people saying all these bad things about him?" Candy leaned against her mother's arm, and Mrs. Muir pulled her close.
"I don't know, sweetheart. All I know is, that this kind of gossip is fairly common in a small town like Schooner Bay. I'd just never imagined..." She fell silent, and Candy didn't press her to finish her sentence.
"Now are we going to eat or what?" Martha demanded.
Mrs. Muir heaved a sigh. "I'm sorry, Martha. I guess I'm not really hungry tonight." She kissed Candy's cheek and got up.
"Me neither," Jonathan groused.
"Nonsense." Martha came busily bustling towards the table, pushing Candy down on her chair and even taking Mrs. Muir's arm to direct her to her place. "I know we're all feeling bad right now, but nothing has ever improved by not eating." She sat down with them herself and even took the initiative for saying grace. "Now eat!" she ordered.
Apart from the ongoing crashing and rumbling of the thunder over Schooner Bay, the evening passed in uncommon silence in Gull Cottage. True – the electricity going down early in the evening may have been partly to blame, but that was nothing unusual around here. So Candy and Jonathan did their homework by candlelight, and spent much of the rest of the evening watching the progress of the storm over Schooner Bay.
The Captain was nowhere to be seen however, and Candy and Jonathan imagined him being up in the clouds, casting down lightning bolts at the town like a true avenging angel. They seemed to find all the comfort they needed in that image, and unable as she felt tonight to give them any comfort herself, Mrs. Muir was grateful for it.
Once she had tucked the children into bed (although it remained to be seen if they could sleep at all in such noisy weather), Mrs. Muir sought out the privacy of the balcony.
The sea was fairly calm out here, but she could clearly make out the white caps near the harbour. With the Captain taking out his anger on the town, Schooner Bay would probably be on emergency status by now.
She leaned over the railing and buried her face in her hands. Bob... you bastard! Why did you have to leave us? Why did you have to die? Don't you see that I need you? Don't you know how I miss you – every day, every night? That this brave, independent woman I show to the world is nothing but an act? A thin layer of varnish? That I still have days that if it wasn't for the children, that I would prefer to just lie down and die – just to be with you again? Why, Bob? Why you? Why couldn't somebody else have died that day? Why the one man I loved – and still love – above everything else in this world? My lover, my husband, my best friend, my refuge in the storm – my everything... The man with whom I expected to grow old – yet we were barely granted five years together. Five years! Dammit, Bob, I need you! I can't do this alone – I'm scared! A whole town against me...?
She shivered, not sure if it was caused by the cool sea air or the daunting prospect of a life of censure and despise here in Schooner Bay. Maybe she should take Claymore up on his offer and take the children to China instead. Certainly living in China couldn't be more difficult than this.
Suddenly she froze – something warm was placed over her back and carefully arranged around her shoulders. Could it be... Could it really be... Bob?! Come back to help her deal with this mess? Come back for good? Bob!
Her breathing went faster and faster – she wanted nothing more than to turn around and throw herself in his arms... but she didn't dare to. As long as she didn't look, she could believe he was there, right behind her, going to pull her in his arms any moment. Whereas if she looked and he wasn't there...
Two arms in dark blue sleeves came to rest on the railing next to her, and a familiar voice spoke, "Never does one appreciate a calm sky so much as when there's a thunderstorm on the horizon."
The Captain. The one man who might have been able to fill the void Bob's death had left in her heart and perhaps reduce it to a mere scar – had he not been dead himself.
She sighed. Now that the spell of 'maybe it's Bob' was broken, she pulled the wrap the Captain had laid around her shoulders a bit tighter. It was getting a bit chilly indeed.
Wordlessly she kept staring out over the darkening ocean, brushing away a stray tear. A part of her wanted to be alone; another part of her was grateful for the Captain's comforting presence beside her. And wished quietly that through some kind of miracle, or even through sheer illusion, he could take her in his arms tonight. Let her feel his closeness. If ever she needed it...
"Are you feeling a little better, madam?" he inquired at last.
"Yes, thank you," she replied automatically, only to amend her words right away. "Or actually no. I was just contemplating running off to China."
"China?!" He straightened himself. "Mrs. Muir, surely you do not intend to run away from your troubles?"
She looked down at her hands. Her wedding ring glistened faintly in the fading light. "I don't like to think of myself doing so either. But in this case..." Her breath caught. "Life is going to be hell here, Captain. I can't subject the children to that, just to save my own self-image. And to be honest, I don't think I'm up to facing this slander and despise myself either."
The Captain grumbled. "Nonsense, woman – running away never solved anything. I'm sure there are other ways – better ways to deal with this."
She closed her eyes. "How?"
"I'll think of something. You just belay any plans for going to China, is that...?" He broke off and tilted his head. "I believe Candy is calling me. Excuse me a moment, my dear." He popped out of sight, but immediately she flinched as his authoritative voice boomed in her head, "And don't jump overboard just yet!"
Up in the already dark attic, Candy started when the Captain materialized but a few feet away.
"Are you not supposed to be in bed, young lady?"
She gulped. "Yes, but... I couldn't get to sleep."
The rumble of the thunder in the distance was faintly audible, and the Captain crossed his arms. "And? I doubt you called me just to tell me that."
"Yes. No. I mean..." She looked up at him, suddenly looking awfully small. "Is Mum still crying?"
His features softened a little. "She wasn't crying when I was with her just now."
"No, but she's been crying this afternoon. I could tell." A deep breath. "And she wanted to cry tonight, too. I remember that look from when Dad died."
The Captain just waited for her to continue, fervently hoping that she wouldn't start crying as well. He hated it when women – old or young – cried. If only because it made him feel so helpless.
"It's all my fault," his surrogate daughter suddenly mumbled.
"Your fault? How come?"
"That blasted essay I wrote last week..."
"I read your essay. There is no need to blame yourself. You didn't write anything about criminals and pansies."
"No. I don't know how they came up with that part. But before last week, nobody around here was interested in my Dad. And now...!" She swallowed. "It would've been better if I'd simply written about my real Dad, even if it meant failing the assignment. At least that tale was boring enough not to get nosy people like Penelope interested. And then Mum wouldn't have to cry!" Stealthily, she wiped away a stray tear of her own. "So I want to try and set things straight. For I don't want Mum to cry anymore."
An approving nod was her reply. "A laudable plan indeed! So what do you have in mind?"
Candy shrugged a little and looked away. "I don't really know. That's why I wanted to talk to you."
"I see."
"But I thought... perhaps... It's general assembly in school this Friday, and there's always lots of parents coming to that, too. So I thought if I... if I asked Mr. Hampton to grant me a few minutes in the program, I could explain to everyone about my real Dad, and... and why I wrote that nonsense about having a seacaptain for a Dad."
The Captain nodded. "Sounds like a workable plan."
"But..." Candy's eyes were practically begging now. "Do you think they'll listen to me? I mean really listen? And stop telling all those bad things about my Dad?"
The Captain scratched his ear. "I don't know, lass." He sighed. "Unfounded rumours are very hard to battle. Believe me – I've had ample experience." He began to pace in the narrow open space the attic provided – four steps forth, four steps back. "Your idea is certainly a good starting point, but I think it needs something to add weight to your words, to actually show the people of Schooner Bay that they're in the wrong." He snapped his fingers. "That's it!"
"What?" Candy's eyes shone with sudden expectation.
"What if we..." The Captain bent down toward her and whispered something in her ear. And when he straightened up again, Candy stared at him with wide eyes. "Can you really do that?"
"Why not? The only one in town who knows me on sight is Claymore. And he's not likely to come to a school assembly, is he."
"But..." Candy hesitated. "Do you really think they'll believe it?"
"Why not?" The Captain raised an eyebrow. "They believe in me, don't they? With their terror tax and all."
"Yes, that's true." Candy took a deep breath. "Boy, that's going to be some performance!"
To her surprise, Mrs. Muir found that her daughter was adamant to go to school the next morning. She had wanted to keep her kids out of school, under the pretext of a very bad night due to the ongoing thunderstorm (which had only ceased – rather abruptly – at daybreak).
But with Candy so eager to go, she wrote a note only to inform of Jonathan's absence for Candy to deliver to the headmaster, and Candy set off with Martha in plenty of time.
The havoc wreaked on the town by the Captain's vengeful thunderstorm was enormous. Water was still rushing down the streets toward the sea, branches and uprooted trees lay everywhere, the streets were full of broken rooftiles, several roofs had blown off altogether, a few sheds had collapsed, others burnt down, quite a few cars had been overturned, the few ships that had the misfortune of being in port last night were badly damaged, the pier had broken off and sunk, electricity and phone cables were lying around everywhere, antennas had been blown off every roof – not even the school had gotten away unscathed.
"Well, there you are," Martha said as she pulled up to the school gate. "You're sure you don't want to come with me instead?"
Candy shook her head and opened the door. "I'll be okay. Thanks, Martha."
Martha watched her as she went into the building, and shook her head. "What's gotten into her today...! She seems almost untouchable!"
Candy in the meantime had reached Mr. Hampton's office and knocked.
But there was no reply. Quickly she looked around. Nobody in sight; then... Carefully she opened the door ajar. But the office was empty. Now where else could a headmaster be? Outside perhaps, with the men she had seen fixing the roof of the gym?
She ran out, and yes, there he was, surrounded by at least a dozen kids trying to help the workmen.
"Mr. Hampton!" she called, and ran over to give her Mum's note.
He didn't even open it. "Your brother's not coming today?"
"No, sir. He had a very bad night, with the thunderstorm and all."
"Didn't we all..." the headmaster mumbled to himself.
"But sir, can I speak to you for a moment? It's important."
"Sure. What's the matter?"
But Candy shook her head. "Not here. I'd rather tell you in private, in your office or something."
"Sure," Wayne Standish from fifth grade drawled. "Can't have her spill her sissy Daddy's secrets in public, can she now!"
Candy glared at him even though her cheeks reddened, but Mr. Hampton gave him a glare of his own. "You'll report to my office at the beginning of recess, Standish. Meanwhile, keep your comments to yourself." He took Candy by the shoulder and led her back inside to his office.
And Candy looked up at him. Could it be that...?
"There. We're alone. Now what can I do for you?" Mr. Hampton asked once he had closed the door of his office and sat down.
But all Candy could think of was, "You don't believe them, do you? You're on our side!"
Mr. Hampton gave her a compassionate smile. "If you mean those rumours about your father... no, I don't believe them. I've got the records here, so I know those silly stories are not true." He hesitated. "How is your mother taking it?"
Candy's enthusiasm sobered. "She's been crying a lot. That's what I wanted to talk to you about."
Mr. Hampton leaned back in his chair. "Okay. Shoot."
And Candy explained how she figured it was her fanciful essay – written that way in order to spare her mother grief to boot – that seemed to have been the start of this mess. And since it was her fault to begin with, she wanted to try and put things right again by explaining about her real Dad and why she hadn't written her essay about him. "And if you could let me explain things at the assembly tomorrow, lots of people will hear it. And perhaps they'll stop treating Mum so badly. And stop telling those terrible lies about my Dad."
Mr. Hampton nodded slowly. "A brave plan, Candy. A plan that shows your heart is truly in the right place. But it's not going to be easy. Are you sure you want to do this all by yourself?"
Candy bit her lip and nodded in return. "It's my fault, sir. I want to try and set things straight. Please, Mr. Hampton? I don't want my Mum to cry anymore."
"Alright," he decided. "How much time do you need – five minutes? That should about do, shouldn't it?"
"Yes, that would be fine. Thank you, Mr. Hampton."
"And just so you know: I'll be very close at hand to back you up if necessary, okay?"
She gave him a smile. "Thank you, Mr. Hampton." She made for the door to go to class, but he still called after her, "And give my sincerest regards to your mother, will you?"
Meanwhile, Martha had driven down the street and parked the car in front of the grocery store. The store was open, even though people were still busy cleaning up the results of the night's storm.
But Martha wasn't interested in damages. She marched into the store, put her hands on her hips and announced with the volume of a foghorn, "You people should be ashamed of yourselves!" Between the children's account of yesterday's events at school and Mrs. Muir's tears and pinched vulnerability, she had a pretty good idea of what had been going on here in town, and by God, she was going to do something about it!
The reaction of the people present so far however was one of dumb innocence – which did little to appease the rotund avenging angel from Gull Cottage.
"Don't you play dumb with me – you all know very well what I'm talking about! How dare you slander Mrs. Muir that way! Have you no heart? Hasn't she had enough to suffer already, losing her beloved husband before she was even thirty years old? Left to raise two young kids on her own? Moving up here to try and pick up her life again – and all she gets is a cold shoulder and this horrid nonsense about her dear late husband, whom you people know ab-so-lute-ly nothing about? It's scandalous – there! You people should be ashamed of yourselves, defaming a still mourning widow! And I really hope that your curses will come home to roost, so you'll all have a chance to experience first-hand what you're putting poor Mrs. Muir through at the moment. What has she ever done to you to deserve such censure?" She had to pause for a breath, but her audience was too dumbfounded to even begin thinking of defending themselves.
"But I'm through here," Martha concluded with an air of finality. "Until the people from Schooner Bay can treat Mrs. Muir and her kids with civility and stop spreading those ludicrous tales about the late Mr. Muir, we'll simply take our custom elsewhere. Good day to you!"
And with her head high, she marched out of the deadly quiet store, got in the car and drove off in the direction of Keystone.
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Note: A big 'thank you' to my fellow writers in the Hogan's Heroes fandom, who helped me to sort out the idiom of Martha's rant!
