Barnaby

by cryptwarmer

Carolyn's new writing career is taking all her time and nerve. The Muir children are coping in any way that they can. Candy's search for blueberries leads to the discovery of a new friend.

5. Chapter 5: Lessons Learned

Barnaby Chapter 5: Lessons Learned

Carolyn stood in front of the bay window and looked out into the darkness at the sea. She could hear footsteps above. The Captain was pacing on the widow's walk. It wasn't safe for humans, as it hadn't been well tended over the years. But she wished she was up there now, instead of trapped inside with her thoughts. She'd considered going out to the front porch, but Barnaby was sleeping downstairs and she didn't want to wake him.

The lighthouse beam turned toward her, then away again in its slow, predictable rhythm.

"Captain?" she called softly, hoping her voice would drift upwards where he would hear.

The footsteps moved in the opposite direction.

She sighed.

"Madam?" his voice was suddenly beside her.

"Oh!" she startled.

"You did call?"

"I did, but I wasn't sure if you'd heard,"

He didn't want to admit that he'd been listening, hoping she would summon him. That his pacing was done with the intention of calling him to mind.

"Happily I did. How was the evening with your guest?"

"I like him, but I wish I didn't," she admitted. "That's childish, isn't it?"

The Captain shimmered into focus. "We all have conflicting feelings. Not just children," he pointed out.

"If he was just some crunchy-munchy tree hugger who wanted to overthrow society, it would be easy to dislike him," Carolyn said with a frown.

"Munchy Crunchy tree what?" The Captain was not familiar with the lingo.

Carolyn chuckled, realizing how strange the words must be to him.

"A tree hugger is someone who is more interested in nature than in living in the city, and crunchy-munchy refers to the food they eat when they hike."

The Captain gave a bit of a nod. "I understood a great deal more of that second sentence than the other. What is this food these crunchy people eat?"

"People mix things like oats, puffed rice, and nuts. Sometimes they form it into a bar," she explained, making the shape of a bar with her hands.

"While it sounds nutritious, it hardly sounds appetizing!" he said in response to the image in his head.

"Hardtack!" Carolyn turned towards him triumphantly. "It's like hardtack."

"It sounds nothing like, and I can only hope it's not like hard tack. It has nothing to recommend it beyond keeping one alive between ports," The Captain assured her. "No one with two feet on the ground would eat the stuff unless it was the only thing standing between them and starvation."

"Oh? I thought you sort of liked it," she admitted.

Now it was his turn to chuckle.

She joined him; it felt good to smile.

"Barnaby is a nice man, a very interesting man. If we had met under different circumstances, we might have been friends," Carolyn summed it up.

"I realize your pride is wounded. I think in that sense, you and I are alike. Our pride matters very much to us. But–"

"Pride? You think this is about my pride?" Carolyn couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Of course, his manner of meeting Candy caused you to question your fitness as a mother. That caused you discomfort, and you settled on him as the cause of it. You must admit, the man did nothing wrong. He simply emerged from the woods at the end of the lane and Candy happened upon him."

"You're supposed to be on my side!" she reminded him wryly.

"I am. That's why I'm speaking frankly. I'm giving you the opportunity to change course before you put further time and energy into disliking him and cause pain to your daughter in the process." The Captain followed her as she turned from the window.

Carolyn sat on the edge of the bed, then threw herself back. "You might be right."

"Not for the first time," he answered with a smirk.

"If I really thought he was a bad person, I wouldn't be letting him sleep on the foldout bed," she went on. "It's not him I'm angry with. It's me."

The Captain sat on the bed. "I'm afraid so. But having him sleep on the foldout bed is most assuredly a form of punishment."

Carolyn giggled at that.

"My Dear," the Captain began, pleased that he had caused her to smile. "I will take my leave, so you may take your rest. Have no fear, I will keep watch over our guest. You are free to pass the night in restful slumber."

Carolyn nodded. She did sleep more soundly, knowing he was at the helm. She wondered if the men who served beneath him had felt the same way.

XXX

Breakfast was far more relaxed than dinner had been the evening before. Barnaby wanted to be helpful to express his gratitude for the meals and lodging. Candy suggested he weed the would be flower bed in the front yard. She knew her mother wanted to plant flowers but had been too busy. If Barnaby did it, her mother wouldn't assign the task to Candy.

Immediately following breakfast, he and Scruffy began work on the flower bed.

"You don't have to do that!" Carolyn said when she saw him. "I was going to get to it any day now." She was embarrassed that she had not gotten to it yet.

"I don't mind. I'm still in outdoor mode. It feels strange to be inside for too long. What were you planning on planting?" he asked.

Carolyn shrugged. "I don't have a lot of experience with gardens." She didn't add that at her house with her husband, they had a lawn service which had planted flowers along the fence. She'd had a planter on the front porch that took a drop in pot of seasonal flowers that she bought at the home improvement store. Every six weeks or so, she picked up the latest pot of blooms, threw out the scraggly ones, and enjoyed the pretty new flowers.

"I think cosmos and zinnias are probably your best bet. They bloom non stop and aren't very particular about the soil."

"So you're a gardener as well?" Carolyn felt a little prickly. Was there nothing this man couldn't do?

"Oh no, nothing like that. As a kid, I spent a chunk of my summers weeding my mom's bed, and I picked up a few things here and there. I was all about plants that didn't take too much work, since I was the worker." He chuckled.

"Cosmos and zinnias, I'll have to remember that when I go into town. I wanted to ask you about that. Now that you're done with the trail, where are you off to? I'd be happy to give you a ride to the train or bus station."

Barnaby turned his attention back to the weeds and licked his top lip. "Thank you. I haven't figured out my next step, but I'll take you up on that ride when I do." He spoke distinctly and carefully.

Carolyn knew she had put him on the spot. Yes, she was trying to nudge him on his way. Was there anything wrong with that?

"I think your flowers will do a lot better if you add some compost to this soil. I can jot down what you need so you can get it whenever it's convenient."

Scruffy had found something interesting in the dirt and dug with more fury.

"I enjoyed your photos," Carolyn said honestly. She didn't want him to think she didn't like him. It wasn't so odd for a single parent to not want a semi vagrant living at the end of the street…was it?

"Thank you. I photograph things so others can have a taste of the experience that I had." He shook dirt and sand off the roots of some weeds.

"Do you plan to do another hike while it's warm, or will you be trying to find a place to stay over the winter?"

"I might hike back up this trail for a while, then off a branch towards the interior," he mused. "Right now, my feet and legs need some time to recoup."

"Yes, of course. Maybe for a change of pace, you could take a boat ride," Carolyn suggested, feeling foolish for suggesting it. She knew it was painfully obvious that she wanted him gone.

"Across the ocean and far away?" he murmured. "I'll be done with this soon, and I'll pack my things up."

"Thank you for weeding this bed. Somehow I just never…" her voice trailed off when she realized she'd already said that.

"Are you working on any articles now?" he asked.

Carolyn gave a little laugh. "You know how your feet feel about hiking right now? That's how my brain feels about articles. But I don't have the luxury of taking a break. I don't want to lose momentum and we need the money."

Barnaby nodded. "I'd love to read what you've written, if you'd give me the names of the publications."

Carolyn thought that was very gracious of him. She doubted an article about the aches and pains of living in a historic house would be interesting to a long distance hiking naturalist.

"Barnaby! Barnaby! We need your help!" Candy came banging out the screen door, with Jonathan right behind her.

He stood and brushed the dirt off his hands on his shorts.

"We found a snake!" Jonathan began.

"He thinks it's poisonous," Candy accused, rolling her eyes.

"It is so! It's got real bright colors. Those are warning colors," Jonathan argued.

"It's this big." Candy held her hands 10 inches apart.

"It's a baby poisonous snake!" Jonathan maintained.

Carolyn made the time out sign and the children grew quiet.

"OK, let's go see what you've got," Barnaby suggested. They went around to the back porch. Jonathan picked up the wooden box he'd gotten from Claymore's treasure hunt and opened the top.

The little snake promptly curled up and flipped over to display its traffic sign yellow tummy.

Carolyn peered at it, "Is it ok?"

"It's poisonous, right?"

"I think it's adorable," Candy cooed.

"It's not dangerous. These are tiny snakes so they have this bright color and this behavior to scare away predators. But apparently it attracts small boys." Barnaby smiled at Jonathan.

"Aw, I wanted to tell grandpa I caught a poison snake," Jonathan frowned.

Carolyn hid her smile. "It actually is kind of adorable."

"It's a ringneck snake," Barnaby explained. "They eat earthworms and bugs they find on the ground."

"Poor little guy, he's scared," Candy said in a sweet voice. "We'd better let him go."

"Can't I keep him for a little while?" Jonathan asked.

"It's best to leave wild things wild," Barnaby said. "He's already pretty stressed, but you know what you can do for him?"

Both children looked up at him.

"You can set out a dish of water so he and his friends can find a drink overnight."

"Like a bird bath, except for snakes!" Candy liked the idea. "Can we mom?"

Carolyn didn't want to encourage snakes to hang around, but she didn't want to disappoint the children, and if this little guy ate bugs, she was all for it. "I think we can find a container to do that," she decided.

"I know! I have that frisbee we got at the car store. It doesn't fly as good as my ring one, so I never use it, anyway. Would that work, Barnaby?" Jonathan asked.

"I think that would be perfect. Just remember to put clean water in it from time to time."

The children ran off to find the frisbee.

"We're certainly keeping you busy here!" Carolyn said to Barnaby. "If rest is what you need, looks like you're not going to get it."

"There are different kinds of rest. Spending time with all of you has been good for my soul. I don't really miss people when I'm hiking, but I miss connection. I could walk out of the woods and get a hotel room in a city and weeks could go by and I'd still feel weary. But a day or two with nice people, and I feel strong again." He smiled with satisfaction.

Carolyn didn't know how to respond. Martha liked him, and the kids were enjoying him, too.

They returned with the frisbee, but Scruffy was having none of using it for a snake bath. He kept picking it up and bringing it to his humans, begging for them to throw it. Even after scolding and warning, Scruffy claimed the frisbee as his own.

Carolyn went into the house and found a disposable pie plate left over from the wedding. Scruffy came over to inspect it, took a few laps of water and then paid it no attention.

Jonathan and Candy released the snake together. They gently placed him in the water, but he didn't stop for a drink. He swam to the edge of the plate and slithered out of sight into the grass.

Luckily Scruffy was on the porch, chewing on the edge of the frisbee, or he would have chased the snake.

"That's two snakes I've seen this week!" Candy said proudly. "We saw a green one a few days ago."

"You two are practicing the skill of observation. Most people never notice those little snakes at all," Barnaby praised.

Martha came out onto the porch. "Did I miss anything? I heard raised voices and barking," she asked.

"Just a snake," Candy said.

Martha's forehead creased.

"Just a tiny little adorable snake, nothing to worry about," Candy assured her.

"I'm not scared of snakes," Martha explained. "I just don't like the idea of any venomous snakes around the house."

"Martha has lived in rattlesnake country," Jonathan explained.

"You know, it's funny how that works. You could have 10 people talking about the same place and they'd each describe it by different things, rattlesnake country, wine country, salmon country," she gave examples.

"Is your game show over?" Jonathan asked.

"As a matter of fact, it is!" Martha told him.

"Yey! We can make our boat now!" Jonathan jumped about.

"You're going to help, right, Barnaby? You said you made them before," Candy recalled with glee.

Barnaby glanced at Carolyn, then at Martha. Martha glanced at Carolyn. Carolyn swallowed down a gulp of disquiet and announced, "Let's all work on them together!"

XXX

Since they had an entire package of craft sticks, they decided to each make their own boat, following a design they found online. When they were done, they would decorate and race them.

"We'll have a regatta," Jonathan explained. "That's a boat race. I sure wish The Captain were here." His eyes grew wide when he remembered he wasn't supposed to talk about The Captain in mixed company.

"I'm sure he's here in spirit," Carolyn said gently, smoothing Jonathan's hair.

"I don't know if they had paddle boats in his time," Martha began. "But if they did, I bet he'd give us a run for our money!"

"The Captain?" Barnaby asked.

"He's the dead man who built this house," Candy explained. "Jonathan talks to him."

"Ah, gotcha!" Barnaby said with a nod. "Does he ever answer back?"

Jonathan's eyes grew large once again, and he acted he hadn't heard the question. He focused very hard on his boat and pretended to whistle.

"So you didn't hear anything spooky while you were sleeping downstairs last night?" Martha asked Barnaby.

"Only those raccoons Candy warned me about," Barnaby admitted.

"The Captain was laid to rest over one hundred years ago, but sometimes he feels like one of the family," Carolyn said in a breezy tone.

"I'll bet you've heard spookier things in the woods!" Candy remarked.

Barnaby nodded his head gravely. "Do you want to know what the spookiest thing of all was?"

They all leaned in, because of course they wanted to hear.

"Well, I was hiking early in the morning. So early that it wasn't quite light yet." He looked from face to face to make sure they were paying attention.

"I was walking along, as quietly as I could, when I heard this awful moaning…errwrrawwwrr." He imitated it the best he could.

"I stopped and listened and looked all around me. It wasn't a sound like any animal I'd heard or studied, and I always study the wildlife before I hike. The sound stopped, so I started walking again, just about tip toeing this time."

He demonstrated an exaggerated tip toe that got them all smiling.

"And the sound started AGAIN! But this time it was lower…like a moan and a growl all mashed together." He made a horrible sound.

"I stood still as a statue. I inched in a circle in place, looking all around me. I looked out, I looked down, I looked up. Nothing!"

"I'd have pulled my blanket over my head," Jonathan said.

"My sleeping bag was rolled up and packed away, so I couldn't really hide. Besides, I wouldn't know what I was hiding from."

"I stood there a little while, all was quiet, so I started walking again. And I remembered hearing that if you're scared, it's best to act like you're not. You can fool your body into not feeling so scared. So I put my head up, and my back straight, and I began to kind of march." Again he demonstrated.

"For a few minutes, everything was going fine, then a voice called, 'hello'. It was as clear as day. Not like when an animal makes a sound that kinda sounds like a word. Nope, this was 'hello'."

"Who was it?" Candy demanded.

"That was what I wanted to know. I decided to say hello back and see what happened."

"What did happen?" Jonathan was leaning half across the table now.

"Nothing. I said hello four or five times. There was no response. So I told myself it was my imagination and started walking again." He strutted in place, pumping his arms and wearing a big smile.

"Not five seconds later, I heard it again. 'Hello'." He looked around at all of them. "By now, I was getting freaked out. Do you know what's scarier than any animal out in the woods? A creepy person who messes with you," he told them frankly. "People are the most unpredictable animals of all."

"Did you answer again?"

"No, I decided I wasn't going to play their game, and I wasn't going to let on that I was afraid. If they thought they were getting to me, they'd keep doing it, but if I ignored them, they'd leave me alone."

"That sounds wise," Martha agreed.

"But it went on for an entire hour! The voice never sounded any nearer, or further away. It was always the same, moaning or saying helloooo."

"An hour! I'd be scared to death by then," Candy said, shivering a little.

"Trying not to look scared takes a lot of energy, and I hadn't had my breakfast yet. So, I sat on a log and pulled out some peanut butter crackers. I kept my backpack on to protect me just in case anything tried to sneak up behind me."

"How could you eat at a moment like that?" Carolyn asked, caught up in the story.

"I don't know, fear and hunger do funny things to a person. Anyway, I opened my crackers and suddenly the voice seemed very close!"

"What did it say?" Jonathan asked.

"Mmmmm…"

They all giggled, thinking it had all been a joke.

"It wasn't funny! Imagine being alone in the woods and suddenly you hear that practically over your shoulder!"

"The voice really said that?" Candy checked.

"Yes! The hair stood on end. I got goosebumps on my arms and legs. I felt paralyzed. And just when I thought I couldn't be any more scared than I was…"

He took in a breath and paused dramatically. "There was a huge flutter in my face and then claws digging into my arm!" He looked terrified, recalling it.

"What was it?" Carolyn asked.

"It was a parrot! It must have flown away from home and was hungry and lonely!" Barnaby revealed. "I was relieved, but part of me wanted to wring that parrot's neck for scaring me so badly!"

Now they all laughed with surprise and relief.

"So what did you do with it?" Candy wanted to know.

"I only had a few days left to hike, and it was only one day until I reached a town. I shared my crackers with him, so she followed me. When I got to town, I left the parrot with a vet, who said he could check the identification number on the parrot's leg ring and maybe help her get back home."

"All well that ends well." Martha smiled. She went to get everyone a glass of lemonade.

"All of that because of some little ole parrot," Candy laughed.

"Oh, it wasn't a little parrot. It wasn't one of those huge macaws, but it wasn't little either. It was about this tall." He held his hand about 10 inches apart. "That's little for a snake, but pretty good sized for a parrot."

Carolyn couldn't help herself. The more time she spent with Barnaby, the more she liked him. He was intelligent, great with kids, and very interesting.

When they finished their boats, everyone got a turn testing theirs in Scruffy's kiddie pool. They had the chance to make improvements and decorate their boats. It was decided that the final regatta would take place after dinner.

"My lucky number is 49," Jonathan said as he drew a 4 and a backward 9 on his boat with a marker.

"My lucky number is sixteen, because it's sweet like me!" Candy decided.

"I'm going with 007," Martha decided. "He's always a winner!"

Carolyn had drawn daisies with smiley faces in the middle of them on her boat. It was a doodle she used to make as a young girl.

"What about you, mom?" Candy asked.

"Do I have to have a number? Can't I just be the daisy boat?" She held it up for them to see.

"Mine's going to be 'The Otter'," Barnaby told them. "They are fast in the water!"

"Yeah, that's ok," Jonathan declared. "Most boats have names, anyway."

Carolyn excused herself to check her email. She entered her room and was just signing in when Martha came to her door.

"Can I come in?" she asked.

"Yes, of course!"

Martha twisted her mouth for a moment as she decided how to begin. "With the boat race and everything, Barnaby will be here for dinner, and then the race after dinner. I know you said he could just stay the one night, but now we've got him involved in our impromptu merit badge workshop."

Carolyn nodded and let out a long breath.

"I'm sure he'd be fine sleeping up the hill, like he's been doing. We've fed him, given him a shower and washed his clothes; it's not like we're doing him a disservice," Martha pointed out.

"I don't think he's the type that if we let him use the fold out, he'll never leave," Carolyn assessed.

"No, he isn't. The kids are enjoying him so much, and I am too! He's a breath of fresh air. He hasn't created all the extra work that the wedding party and photographers did. In fact, if you didn't mind him staying, and he isn't in a hurry to go, I thought he might help with Vacation Bible School. There's a lot of building and decorating to do." Martha said, stepping closer.

"Do you think he'd be interested?" Carolyn wondered aloud.

"There's only one way to find out…but, I don't want to ask him unless you're certain you're comfortable," Martha emphasized.

"I think this is one of those situations where I'm supposed to pray about it," Carolyn said thoughtfully. "It's not a habit I never got into as a child, but I admit it helped me quite a deal after Pastor Ruth suggested it to me."

"Mrs Muir, I'm never going to advise against prayer, but if you're not comfortable…it's not like he's poor or homeless. There's no harm in sending him on his way."

Carolyn smiled at Martha's compassion for herself and for Barnaby.

"Maybe he can help me get that garden planted," Carolyn said with a shrug. Her life, since moving to Gull Cottage, was nothing like…well, nothing like her life had ever been before. It had been one surprise after another. She'd never held the philosophy that everything happened for a reason, but she was beginning to wonder.

"The garden, and a few other projects. It wouldn't hurt to have a man about the house for a while. It's certainly easier than trying to get Claymore to do anything," Martha pointed out.

"Anything is easier than that. Maybe we can poke around and get an idea of Barnaby's plans for himself before we make any plans for him," Carolyn suggested.

"I'm good at getting the information I want out of people," Martha said with a knowing nod. "Some people require a little finesse, but I think Barnaby is a straight shooter. I'll ask him what his plans are."

Carolyn smiled. Martha's directness was a blessing.

After Martha left, Carolyn stared at the screen without seeing it. Would it be harder for Candy if they invited Barnaby to stay? What if she grew more attached to him and was devastated when he had to leave? She sighed heavily.

"Is it as bad as all that?" The Captain's voice broke her reverie.

She smiled, "No, it's not. I'm just trying to figure out the right way to handle Barnaby," she explained.

"Hmmm…" The Captain materialized beside his binnacle. "I've been observing you for some time now, and generally you act from a place of good sense, kindness, and generosity. There was a time, not long ago, that I considered kindness and generosity a sign of weakness, but you have led me to reexamine my position. I spent most of my life pursuing gain. It took me to exotic places and brought me a great deal of pleasure…" He looked out to sea, then turned back to her. "But not much satisfaction."

"I know you don't like strangers in your house," Carolyn reminded them both.

The Captain chuckled. "There's been nothing but a steady stream of strangers since you moved in! This Barnaby seems a good sort of chap. And he can tell a good yarn!" The Captain added approvingly. "You were seeking a subject for an article. It would appear that one walked right into your home."

She began to laugh, shoulders shaking.

"What do you find so amusing?" The Captain sounded a bit put out.

"Well, I walked into your home, and you weren't so sure about me at first, and now I'm getting a taste of my own medicine!"

"Perhaps he has something to teach and offer you, as you have for me." The Captain bowed slightly.

Carolyn sat quietly for a minute or two, thinking…feeling. She gave a little sniff. "Every new person we meet, every family event, takes me further away from Robert."

She'd been told this would happen, this feeling of guilt and melancholy. A feeling that she was betraying him by going on without him. The grief booklet the funeral home gave her mentioned it. Pastor Ruth had brought it up (and assured her it was perfectly normal), but right now that wasn't a comfort.

Carolyn resented that her grief wasn't unique. She hated that it was predictably like the grief of billions of people she didn't even know. She was creative, a writer, yet her grief was boring and formulaic.

She recalled a conversation her mother and her aunt had had when Carolyn was still in college. Her Aunt's husband had died of complications from a burst appendix. She was heartbroken, stunned and trying to plan a memorial service that would do justice to what a wonderful man he'd been and what a purposeful life he'd lived.

She collected ideas, wracked her brain, conversed with her sister and children planning something special. When she mentioned to the funeral director that she didn't want a funeral as much as a celebration of life, he gave her a booklet on how to do a celebration of life. All her ideas were already in there, printed, bound, and stacked in a cardboard box behind the funeral director's desk.

Her Aunt had been deflated. What was the point? No matter what she felt or what she did, it had already been done—to death (no pun intended). There was nothing novel in it, nothing that set it apart. The woman had almost seemed to shrivel. She had lost her purpose.

Her Uncle had a traditional funeral, and it had all been perfectly lovely.

Carolyn recalled feeling sorry for the woman. But realistically, there weren't many things that hadn't been done.

People had their loved one's ashes shot into space, made into jewelry, used to fertilize trees. People thought of these things and did these things because they wanted to make the point that the person had lived—that they were loved and grieved. A mark that was unmistakable. That was difficult to do, unless you could build the next Taj Mahal…

The Captain wondered what was going on in her head. He guessed it had to do with her husband.

"Mrs Muir?"

"I'm sorry Captain, I guess I got lost in thought," she wiped at her eye.

"Perhaps it's not exactly the same, but I do have experience with grief," he reminded her.

She turned to him. Her eyes looked small and tired.

"I lost people who meant a great deal to me, and then…I lost my own life. And by attempting to force things to remain the same, I became trapped. I didn't regain what I had lost. I merely prevented myself from gaining anything new."

Carolyn nodded, weakly, vaguely.

"You see Madam, your sadness is real, but don't let it keep you from being happy."

"I try Captain, but then I'll suddenly think, 'Robert wouldn't like this, or Robert would want it done differently', and I get sucked back into it. Robert was a good man, but he wanted things orderly, very orderly."

The Captain smiled. "A man after my own heart!"

"Then I feel guilty because I know he wouldn't like some of the decisions I've made, but he's not here. So why does it matter?" Her frustration was evident in her tone.

"Perhaps you're in the habit of making him happy?"

Carolyn sighed, "They're his children too. And I know that much of what we're doing isn't his style. I mean, don't I owe him that? To raise his children the way he would want me to?"

"My dear," The Captain stepped closer. "Even the good book acknowledges that marriages end upon death. Unless you specifically made a promise concerning how to bring up Candy and Jonathan, you are free to do as you see fit. After all, situations change. The children are very young now. When they get older, you'll have to address issues that neither of you anticipated."

"But all they have left of their father is what I tell them. They were both so young when they lost him. All I can give them is to try to act as if he was still here." Carolyn had vowed to herself to not let Robert's memory die. At the time, that promise had felt important and noble. Now it often felt like a weight on her shoulders.

It had felt like a way to hold on to Robert for herself as well as the children. Now it felt like a ball and chain. She hadn't realized how much she had given Robert his way until she was free and didn't have to anymore.

They had attended the Episcopal church with the children. It was a perfectly nice church. Carolyn had been raised Episcopalian, and it felt familiar. She'd visited other churches and had found one she wanted to take the family to. But they went to the church that Robert preferred. He preferred it because it offered him better opportunities to network with other businessmen.

She had dressed the children the way Robert preferred. It hadn't been much of a challenge; the kids were young and wore what they were told. Candy had developed strong preferences when she was 5, preferences that didn't mesh with her father's idea of how his little girl should dress.

Robert had insisted the children wore Buster Brown shoes, because he had worn them growing up. He didn't want Candy playing jump rope with the other little girls out on the driveway because he said the chants they sang while they played sounded like nagging women. Carolyn had let Candy play, but made sure she never did it when her father was home.

One by one, Carolyn had told herself that it was just a little thing. Nothing that mattered enough to make an issue out of. But all those little things added up.

One day, Carolyn met Robert when he came home from work. She was about to kiss him when he tilted his head and studied her for a moment. He touched her hair gently, frowned and suggested that she go to the salon that his colleague's wife went to. He said she'd look nicer with a new style and fewer highlights.

"If I'm being honest," Carolyn turned to look at The Captain. "I pick and choose which aspects of their father I share with them. Robert and I didn't agree on everything."

The Captain nodded slowly, hoping she'd go on.

"All they'd get of him would be an edited version. So in the end, I'm making all the decisions anyway," she reasoned.

"We can only play the cards we're dealt," The Captain said. "Your husband's hand folded when he passed. His cards are out of play."

The simple truth of that struck her. Robert's cards were out of play. She had to go on playing the game based on her hand, and the children's hand. She needed to stop trying to make up for Robert not being here, and leave space for new people to come into their lives, bringing their gifts and talents.

"I never thought of it that way. I've been trying to make up for something that I can't. I can't be Robert. I don't want to be Robert."

The Captain didn't speak, but he very much didn't want her to be Robert either. Man to man, he might have liked Robert Muir, but as Carolyn's spouse, he had no use for him.

"I really need to look at my email. Maybe they'll want to bring a baby elephant into the house for photos," she griped.

The Captain smiled at the idea, only because he knew that an elephant wouldn't fit through the door.

XXX

"Footsteps, Footsteps. Let's follow the footsteps of the Son of God," the children sang.

"Walk with each other, side by side, hand in hand, left and right." They copied the motions of the chorus teacher as they sang.

It was the first evening of Vacation Bible School. Candy was wearing one of her new school outfits. She'd asked her mother if she could, and promised she'd be extra careful at snack time, not to spill her drink on it. Her friend Maree was back from visiting her grandparents, and the two girls stood side by side as they sang. They shared a special friend's smile and squeezed each other's hands during the 'hand in hand' part.

Martha was playing the electric keyboard for them.

Jonathan stood between two boys. One was exactly a head taller than him, and the other exactly one head shorter than him. Candy had laughed when she first saw them, three blond heads going up like notes on a scale.

Maree's hair was as dark as Candy's was light, and it was long where Candy's was short. Maree wore a sundress, while Candy wore shorts. They seemed as different as could be on the outside, but they were like-minded on the inside. Candy wished she had had the chance to tell Maree about Barnaby, but she hadn't.

Right now, Barnaby was on the far side of the fellowship hall with three other men putting the finishing touches on a rocking rowboat on an artificial Sea of Galilee. Once it was done, the children could ride in it, and experience a storm at sea!

"Step, step, step. Stepping with Jesus through the sands of time!" The song came to a finish.

Martha smiled at the children, and Mrs Carlisle, the chorus director, clapped her hands. "Very good children! Quite good!"

Jonathan leaned forward, trying to see what the men were doing. He leaned so far that the tall boy beside him had to grab his arm to keep him from falling!

"Jonathan!" Martha stood up and shook a finger at him.

"Sorry." Jonathan hung his head down.

Candy looked at Maree and twirled her finger beside her ear to indicate that her brother was crazy. Luckily, Martha didn't see.

"Side by side, hand in hand, left and right," Maree sang quietly as they filed down from the risers to go to their classrooms.

Candy tapped Maree on the shoulder. "See that man with the drill thingie over there? That's my friend Barnaby!"

Maree looked, then asked. "Is he your mother's boyfriend?"

Candy felt a choking feeling in her throat. "No, of course not. He's MY friend. I found him camping at the end of our street."

"Is he homeless?" Maree wondered.

"No, he's just. He hikes a lot. He's in between hikes, and houses, I guess," Candy tried to work it out.

Maree was humming the song again and not paying attention to her friend.

"Hi Barnaby!" Candy called as the line of children walked past.

"Hello Candy! The singing sounded great!" He grinned at her.

"It's a funny thing to find a man," Maree commented once they were out in the hall. "I mean, people find lost dogs, but not people. At least not grown up people."

"Barnaby wasn't lost. We just sort of bumped into each other," Candy explained. "And now he's helping my mother write an article about the Crests to Coast trail."

"What's an article?" Maree wondered.

"It's kind of like a story, but you learn something. Like facts about things you didn't know before." Candy explained.

Maree did a hopscotch on the tiles just before they turned into their classroom. "You always have something going on at your house!" she told Candy.

"Yeah, Gull Cottage is pretty special," Candy smiled. "And so are the people in it."

Maree didn't answer, because they had reached the classroom and their Bible School teacher was telling them where to sit and what they were going to do next. Candy wished she could talk more about Barnaby, but she guessed now wasn't the time for it. Now was the time for them to make their own footprints in sand!

XXX

On the way home, Mrs. Muir had to call for silence because everyone was talking at once. Jonathan's class had made footprints using sand clay. Candy's class made footprints using sand and plaster. Martha said even the grownups had made footprints using glue, paper, and sand.

"Ugh, didn't that make your feet all sticky?" Carolyn asked when she had gotten everyone under control.

"Yes, that led to the second half of class when we washed each other's feet. I don't know which part was more uncomfortable," Martha remarked.

"What did your group do, Mom?" Jonathan checked.

Carolyn swallowed down a lump of guilt. "Well, I didn't really do a class. I sort of…floated. I watched the toddlers on the playground and cleaned up after snack." She had spent the rest of the time just hanging around on the fringes.

"I think that we finally got the boat on the Sea of Galilee operational," Barnaby said happily. "You kids are in for a good time tomorrow!"

"Wow mom, you should have made a footprint, then we could hang all of ours on the wall together," Candy pointed out.

"Oh, that's ok. It's more important for you kids; you're growing so fast. My footprint will be just the same a year from now," she said mildly.

"But our teacher said that we all leave prints, no matter how old we are, and that we need to leave a clear trail going the right direction, so that everyone who comes after us won't get led to stray," Jonathan recited what he'd heard in class.

"Astray," Carolyn corrected automatically.

"Where's astray?" Jonathan wondered.

"It means off the track, going in the wrong direction," Barnaby explained. "You know how I told you about getting lost in the woods after someone had messed with the signs?"

"You went astray?" Jonathan asked.

"Yes, and I was lucky to find the trail again. I carry a map with me on the long hikes, but not always on shorter ones. And you can get lost just as easy in 2 miles as 200 miles," Barnaby warned the boy.

"I'll bet there's a sermon in that statement," Martha mused.

"Did you make a footprint, Barnaby?" Candy asked.

"No, I'm afraid I was a bit like your mother. I was here and there and not in any one place long enough to leave a print. That seems to be the story of my life."

"Well, the beach has plenty of sand. We just need to get some plaster and we can make footprints for you and mommy," Candy decided. "Our teacher said they bought it at the hardware store."

"Really, I don't think–" Carolyn began.

"But Mom, if Jesus didn't leave footprints, we wouldn't know the way," Jonathan argued. "It's important."

Carolyn smiled. "Ok, if it means that much to you."

"Yey!" the kids said in unison.

Once they were home, Candy tried to pick out the tune to the song they'd learned on the piano. Martha came over with her substantial pocketbook and brought out the music. She helped Candy read the notes.

Carolyn was watching from the doorway when Barnaby came up behind her and gently cleared his throat.

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry!" Carolyn startled slightly.

"I just wanted to say I've enjoyed staying here with the family, but I learned there's a campground near town, and I thought it's probably time for me to give you your space back."

"Oh. I didn't know that! Camping? I thought you were enjoying sleeping on a bed, such as it is." Carolyn apologized for the fold out cot with a shrug.

"I've enjoyed it very much. Maybe too much. I really should stay in shape, not get soft," he explained. "So if you wouldn't mind, tomorrow after Bible School, you can drop me off. I think it's called Starboard Gardens. Besides, it'll be easier to say goodbye to the kids, well, to all of you, if we kind of break it off slowly."

Carolyn nodded. He was thinking straight. She appreciated it. "Our article?"

"Oh well, yes, we need to work on that some more, but we can do the rest via email. I mean, once the main body is written."

Carolyn gave him a tight smile. "The children will miss you terribly. Especially Candy," she pointed out the obvious.

"I hope you don't mind if I keep in touch with them. I can send postcards from my hikes," Barnaby offered.

"That would be wonderful. It's just that…she's lost so much." Carolyn trailed off.

Barnaby didn't reply. He just stood watching the girl playing piano with the housekeeper. "She has such a big heart," Barnaby noticed. "She'll always make a lot of friends, but that will mean a lot of goodbyes."

"That's enough for one night. Let's get ready for bed!" Martha said, closing the keys of the piano. "It's been an exciting day for everyone!"

Candy didn't argue. She hugged her mother and Barnaby as she walked past them, then she climbed the stairs, singing the words to the song they'd been playing.

"I have a feeling I'm going to wish I'd never heard that song in a day or two," Martha told Carolyn.

"I'll get them washed up, Martha," Carolyn offered. "You've done enough for one night."

As she ascended the stairs with Jonathan beside her, Carolyn heard Martha offer Barnaby a beer.

Carolyn hoped she wasn't being selfish. Barnaby was more than Candy's friend. He was a friend for Martha too. He'd brought something special to all of their lives, and now to the Schooner Bay community as well.

But he had made the decision to move to the campground on his own. She hadn't pushed for it or hinted about it. Besides, she had no reason to think he preferred the company of a young family to the solitude he experienced on his hikes. Given his history, a campground might seem more like home than a house did.

Despite their excitement over Bible school, and their chatter over it, the children went to bed with no trouble. In lieu of the prayer cube, they chose to say a prayer they had learned earlier that evening.

Jesus, show me the way,

A path I can walk each day.

Help me do good,

The way that I should.

Keep me safe from harm,

In your loving arms.

Amen

They each added their special prayers at the end. Jonathan prayed that BunBun wouldn't get lonely while the family was at Bible School. Candy prayed that Barnaby liked Schooner Bay so much that he'd never leave.

Carolyn frowned at that. After tucking Jonathan in, she went to Candy's bed and sat down. "I know you like Barnaby very much. We all do," she began. "But when we say our prayers, it's not really fair to pray that someone else will organize their life the way we'd like them to."

"But Jonathan prayed for BunBun not to feel lonely," Candy argued.

Carolyn considered that and ran her hand over her daughter's forehead. "He did, didn't he? But I think what he meant was that BunBun would feel safe and loved here at home."

"But that's how I want Barnaby to feel–safe and loved, so he won't have to go looking someplace else," Candy explained.

"I think it's ok for you to pray for Barnaby to feel the love we have for him, but not to pray that he makes a decision one way or another. That's trying to control him, and that's not a loving way to act." Carolyn hoped she was making sense.

"And Barnaby is a real person, not a stuffed toy," Candy added, but quietly enough that her brother didn't hear.

"Yes, that's important, too," Carolyn agreed with a smile.

"I thought we could pray for whatever we want," Candy said, a growl in her voice.

"I think you're confusing God with Santa Claus," Carolyn suggested.

Candy thought for a moment, then nodded. "It is pretty confusing. They both have long white beards."

Carolyn stifled a giggle. She leaned over and kissed her daughter on the forehead. "Good night, darling."

"Good night, Mommy," Candy rolled over and closed her eyes.

XXX

Barnaby got an early start on the flower bed while the morning was still cool. They'd picked up compost and plants in town the previous day. He wanted to get everything planted before he moved his residence to the campground. The sandy soil was easy to dig, and with the addition of compost, he was confident that it would provide the plants with what they needed.

He was whistling a tune quietly when a taxi pulled up in front of the house.

A tall, gangly man got out, tugged his hat firmly onto his head, and opened the front gate. He closed the latch, then turned and noticed Barnaby and startled. He gave a little jump and held his briefcase against his chest like a shield.

"Oh, it's YOU!" the man said to Barnaby, dropping his briefcase back to his side and pointing with his other hand.

Barnaby studied the unfamiliar man. He brushed off his hands on his shorts, walked over and offered his hand.

The tall man ignored the hand and ran his eyes up and down over Barnaby's form.

He muttered, "If it's not one thing, it's another. People coming in and out. I don't know what kind of place they're running here…."

"Barnaby Donwell." Barnaby offered his hand again.

The tall man took his hand with a sniff. "Claymore Gregg! Landlord!"

Barnaby nodded slowly. "I'm just working on the flower bed," he pointed.

"We'll see about that!" Claymore straightened and marched to the front door. He wrapped quickly on the screen door. Scruffy greeted him with a warning bark and growl.

"Come now, Scruffy, you and I are friends. Let's not dredge up old grievances." Claymore spoke to the dog in a soothing tone. Scruffy turned tail and trotted off into the gloom.

"I'm coming!" Martha called, sounding irritated. "Hold your fire!"

She walked up and looked through the screen. "Oh, it's you."

"Yes, it's me and I need to speak to Mrs Muir pronto about a serious breach of our lease agreement!" Claymore patted his briefcase.

Martha opened the door. "I don't suppose you'd like to discuss it over breakfast. We're having blueberry pancakes."

"Blueberry pancakes! Why I don't mind if I do." Claymore stepped inside.

Barnaby couldn't hear any more of the conversation, but he was pretty sure it had something to do with him. It was really none of his business, so he went back to mixing the compost in and planting the flowers.

XXX

"Claymore is here, and he's in a mood," Martha stuck her head into Carolyn's bedroom door.

"I'll be right down," Carolyn responded. She finished combing her hair and slipped a headband on. She slipped into a pair of comfortable canvas mules and hurried downstairs.

Claymore was in the sitting room pacing back and forth, eyeing Captain Gregg's portrait and speaking to it.

"I can't believe it's come to this. After all, this is your house! All those years you wouldn't let a soul so much as step inside, and now the place is like Lollapalooza! Why don't you work a little mojo and save me a trip?"

"Ahem," Carolyn interrupted Claymore's discussion with the painting.

"Oh, there you are. Mrs Muir, good morning. I'm here concerning a very serious matter." He thumped his briefcase for emphasis.

"Should I sit down? Is it very bad news?" she asked, half in jest.

Claymore didn't respond. He simply went on with his complaint.
"Mrs Muir, I'm a fair man, a generous man…" he put a hand over his heart and closed his eyes.

Carolyn crossed her arms over her chest. She had a feeling this was going to be a doozy.

"But it's come to my attention that you have a man living here. A man who is NOT on the lease! And the lease clearly states that only the tenants stated on the original contract may reside in Gull Cottage. Anyone added without direct written permission will render the contract null and void, and the contract will end. Any new contract will be renegotiated under a new set of terms and at a new rental rate!" Claymore rattled off.

"That's all well and good, Mr Gregg, but we don't have anyone living here," Carolyn said in an even tone.

"Mrs Muir, please, don't take me for a fool. Not only have I heard from trustworthy sources about your latest tenant, but I saw him with my own eyes a minute ago!"

"Oh, you mean Barnaby? He's not living here," Carolyn said with a shrug. "And what do you mean 'latest tenant'? I haven't had anyone living here."

"What about all those people for the wedding?" Claymore said with a sniff.

Carolyn walked towards him with her finger aimed right at him. "You mean the wedding that YOU double booked? And besides, not a single one of those people slept here."

Claymore took a step back, "And what about all those photographers you've had cavorting in and out?!"

"You mean the photographers that are paying you a hefty fee for taking photos of the cottage?" She reminded him. "How dare you threaten my lease based on people that were here to help fill your pockets!" She had gotten close enough to poke him in the chest.

"Well, I, I mean, maybe…." Claymore stuttered. "But what about?" He jabbed a finger in the direction of the front yard.

"Barnaby is a long distance hiker who ended his hike at the top of the road. He doesn't live here," Carolyn informed him.

"Are his things here? Is he sleeping here? That's the definition of live! Ah ha!" Claymore straightened himself up with a smug grin.

"So you're saying we're not allowed to have people visit? My parents won't be able to stay a night or two?" She wasn't backing down.

"Well, family. I mean, if it's just for a few…There's a stipulation in the lease that you cannot sublet either the cottage as a whole or a room or rooms within the cottage!" This time, he held his finger up in the air.

Carolyn turned on her heel and went to the door. Claymore followed.

"Barnaby, can you come in here?" she called out the screen door.

"Is something wrong?" Martha came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel.

"Only in Claymore's head," Carolyn assured her.

"Well, no news there," Martha muttered. "And to think I offered him breakfast."

Barnaby walked up, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his dusty forearm. Carolyn held the door open and motioned towards the sitting room.

"Barnaby, this is Claymore Gregg, our landlord," Carolyn explained as they made their way into the sitting room and sat down.

"Yes, we met outside, sort of," Barnaby said with a nod.

"Mr Gregg, ask Barnaby anything you'd like," Carolyn offered. "He hasn't been in on any of our conversation."

Claymore sat down, put his briefcase on his lap and opened it, putting out a long document of several pages, and brandishing it.

"Am I in trouble?" Barnaby asked. He recognized a legal document when he saw one.

Claymore gave an evil chuckle. "Not you, young man, but our mutual friend here!"

Barnaby looked puzzled and glanced over at Carolyn, who looked irritated but not in the least anxious.

"Where do you live?" Claymore asked the man.

Barnaby rubbed his chin for a moment. "I guess you could say I live at the Starboard Gardens campground."

Claymore looked puzzled. "Do you deny that you have been staying here at this residence for an undisclosed amount of time?" Claymore shook the lease at him.

"How about if I disclose the amount of time? I've slept on a fold up cot for four nights. Before that, I was camping down at the end of the road." He jerked a thumb towards the door. "And now I've got a reservation at the campground in town for the next week."

Claymore's Adam's apple bobbed and his forehead creased as his case fell apart. "Four days! Four days you've had a stranger living on MY property without permission!" Mr Gregg did his best to sound stern and righteous. "I believe anyone would agree that anything above three days constitutes having residence, i.e., living." He thrust the lease forward towards Carolyn.

She had had enough. She grabbed the lease and motioned as if she was going to tear it in half. "I have had about enough of this Claymore! I will not stay here living under the constant and trumped up threat of being evicted or having the rent raised over imaginary infractions."

"I know for a fact that I can find several cottages to rent that are more modern and in better repair than Gull Cottage. If we're not good enough for you, I challenge you to find a better set of tenants! I can be out of here by the end of the month!"

Carolyn saw Captain Gregg pop into sight behind a very pale and terrified Claymore Gregg. She hadn't truly shown her anger with him before, but this was really too much. It was a breach of contract when he had double-booked the wedding without permission or paying her for the inconvenience. She was simply not going to have him stomping in whenever he felt like it and accusing her of wrongful behavior.

The Captain looked startled. He absolutely did not want the Muir family to leave, and he absolutely did not want, and would not allow, anyone else to move into the cottage. His great grand nephew had created quite a powder keg.

Carolyn slowly tore the paper.

"Madam!" The Captain said in alarm. "What are you thinking? Don't worry about this pompous windbag."

She shot him a glance, but she didn't want Claymore to know he was present.

"This blaggard continues to insist that he's the owner of Gull Cottage, but we all three know that he is merely the vile toad who makes money off of a home that was built by myself and brought back to life by you!" The Captain went on.

"So be it, Mrs Muir. So be it. It cannot be said that I didn't try…" Claymore placed a hand over his heart and shook his head slowly.

"Try? Try!" The Captain turned on Claymore. "You useless excuse for a man!"

Claymore's eyes grew wide.

"Listen to me Claymore, and listen to me good. If you drive the Muirs from this home, you will never make another cent from this property. I will burn it down before I allow you to profit from something you did not build and have not cared for."

"You wouldn't!" Claymore said.

Barnaby assumed he was speaking to Mrs Muir.

"Watch me!" Carolyn tore a little further.

"Where would you live?" Claymore countered, daring The Captain.

The Captain's mouth drew up at the corners like the cat who drank the cream. "Why with you, my dear boy, with you!"

Claymore grew even paler and his chin began to wobble. He sank into the nearest chair. The idea of having the Captain haunt him personally was terrifying.

Carolyn, who had heard the Captain's threats, slowly lowered the lease. "Claymore?"

His head lolled back and he whimpered. "You win, Mrs Muir. You win. I'm a beaten man." He sighed heavily.

"Is all this really about me?" Barnaby looked from Claymore to Carolyn.

The Captain looked into Claymore's briefcase. "Of course! He's had an offer on the cottage! Some historical organization." He motioned to a letter. "A fine example of a nearly untouched…." He waved his hand around to indicate the blather on the real estate listing. "It's always about money with him. Fool! Since you moved here, he's made a steady stream of income from the cottage. But he'd kill the goose that laid the golden egg just to have a heavy purse in his hand for a day!" The Captain made a grumble of disappointment.

"Claymore, you disappoint me. Something I thought you were no longer capable of doing." The Captain stood over the man.

Claymore opened his eyes and sat up. "Yes, you're right. I've had an offer! Is that so terrible? Is it my fault that Mrs Muir violated her contract at the same time?"

"I think he's delirious," Barnaby said in concern. "I think he's hearing things."

Carolyn shot him a weak smile. "He's prone to these…fits. A cup of coffee and a stack of blueberry pancakes, and he'll be just fine," she promised.

Claymore sat up. "Oh, are the pancakes ready? You're right, I was feeling a bit peckish. I'll let this situation slide, but don't try to get past me again. An agreement is an agreement, Mrs Muir."

Carolyn shook her head. For a moment, she was almost sorry she hadn't ripped the lease in half. But she hadn't had her coffee or breakfast either. She dropped the lease into Claymore's open briefcase and smiled at the Captain who gave her a salute.

"Breakfast is ready!" Martha called from the kitchen. Carolyn turned on her heel and left the room, leaving Barnaby to help Claymore to his feet.

"Mr Claymore, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't find such a caring and respectful family to rent this cottage if the Muirs moved out."

Claymore sighed and shook his head. "You don't know, you just don't know what I've been through with this property over the years. I'm thwarted at every turn."

"I mean, I can't believe they're still going to feed you breakfast after the way–"

"Martha is the real reason I allow them to stay. She's a marvel. Have you had her pie?" Claymore asked.

"No, I'm afraid I haven't," Barnaby admitted.

Claymore grabbed Barnaby's arm and looked him straight in the face. "Whatever you do, don't leave Schooner Bay until you've had some of Martha's pie."

Barnaby laughed. "Ok, I'll take your advice."

"Mr Gregg is here too?" Candy noticed. "Wow, where are we going to put everyone? We need to get a bigger table!"

Claymore looked sheepish, but he didn't feel enough shame to turn down a stack of Martha's pancakes and a mug of strong coffee.

XXX

Carolyn rubbed her forehead with her fingertips, the way a person might if they were fighting a headache, but her reason was quite different. She was trying to hide her laughter at the song the 7th and 8th grade students were singing at the opposite end of the Church hall.

In keeping with the theme of Footsteps in the sand, each age group was learning songs related to the theme. The younger children's songs that had come with the purchased curriculum. There was no curriculum for the older children, so the chorus leader had adapted popular songs by changing the lyrics.

The 5th and 6th graders were learning a modified version of 'If You Go, I Will Follow You'. The older kids were learning a Christianized version of Aerosmith's 'Walk This Way' that nearly had Carolyn in fits, though she had to admit the chorus wasn't bad.

Jesus tells us to

Walk this way!

Talk this way!

Love this way!

Every Day!

Jesus tells us to

Walk this way!

Talk this way!

Love this way!

Every day!

Love each other like this!

Exactly like this!

In her adult class, they had been reminded that God could and did use broken vessels,and imperfect people to carry His message. He could take anything and use it as a means of calling people to Him.

A short while later, she had to suppress giggles once again when Claymore Gregg, dressed in a robe and sandals, came marching into the room playing a merry tune on a clarinet. Behind him skipped a stream of little children and two high school aged girls keeping everyone in line.

Claymore played a tune, then the children put their hands up in the air and called "Hosanna!"

They repeated this several times before one of the high school girls called them to sit down for a snack and story time. Claymore came over to Carolyn. "Why Mrs Muir, I'm happy to see you here! What a nice way to get involved in the community."

Carolyn looked him up and down. "You don't have a beard, so I guess you're not Jesus."

"No, I'm the Perky Piper of Jerusalem," he said with a little bow of his head. "I hope they have plenty of apple juice. Playing this thing makes me terribly thirsty." He patted his throat.

"Is that anything like the Pied Piper?" she guessed.

"Yes, except the Perky Piper leads the children to Jesus, instead of out of town," he explained. "Why are you here by yourself? Aren't you with the adult class?"

"I'm kind of floating." She shrugged. "Helping where I can." That second answer was only partly true. She had chaperoned a few children to the bathroom and helped pour juice a time or two. But she didn't have any assigned tasks; she was mostly wandering around.

"I would never have tagged you as shy," Claymore said frankly. "But I know it's hard to break into a new town, and people here, at least the old timers, can be clannish."

"I'm not shy!" she said in no uncertain terms, immediately realizing that her defensive reaction gave her away. "Well, maybe a little bit, but I'm not scared to get to know people." Her tone was snippy.

Claymore held up a finger, and in a minute returned with two tiny paper cups of apple juice. He handed one to Carolyn. "You were saying?" he asked, then downed his cup of juice in one gulp.

"All I'm saying is that Bible school is primarily for children. I'm keeping an eye on them, making sure they don't feel left out." Hard as she tried, she couldn't keep the defensiveness out of her voice.

"I've seen Candy and Jonathan. They're having a whale of a time! Get that? Whale?" Claymore was overly pleased with his joke.

The whale he spoke of was an enormous work in progress that a group of men were building in the parking lot.

"Yes, the children are enjoying themselves. So is Barnaby. In fact, I think he's on whale duty tonight."

"About that kerfuffle…you know, there's no point in having a contract if we don't follow it and enforce it," Claymore said, coloring as he spoke. "People think I'm the bad guy, but I have a business to run."

"Maybe we should take a lesson from Bible school about communication. It's better to ask than accuse," Carolyn suggested.

"I guess I get myself worked up about things," Claymore allowed. "It's the curse of having such an active mind." He tapped his temple. "This thing is always cooking up ideas. Every now and then, it spits out a bad one."

Carolyn neither agreed nor disagreed.

"Mr. Gregg, we're ready," one of the high school girls said.

"Ah, duty calls!" He picked up his clarinet. "Come on, kids! To the restrooms!"

Off they went, dancing and cheering. Carolyn approached the remaining teen helper. "I'll clean this up if you'd like," she offered.

The girl looked uncertain. She didn't know Carolyn.

"I'm Carolyn Muir. My children Jonathan and Candy are participating. I'm helping out where I can."

"You don't have the…" The girl patted a badge she was wearing. "Everyone who helps with Bible school has to watch a film and sign a pledge."

"Oh…" Carolyn hadn't realized, but it made perfect sense. They didn't want strangers wandering around having access to the children. "I'm sorry. I'm new here. I didn't know."

The girl offered a little smile. "Maybe if you talk to Mrs Samuelson, she could get you signed up."

Carolyn nodded, but she didn't intend to talk to Mrs Samuelson. It hardly seemed worth it for three more evenings. She didn't need a badge to attend the adult class and get to know people. She felt a stone in her chest. Maybe Claymore was right, maybe she was shy…or if not shy, hesitant. She didn't want to explain, over and over, that she was a widow, that she didn't have an actual job, that she was living in the haunted cottage everyone whispered about.

The adult class was already in session, so she wandered to the parking lot to see what progress had been made on the whale. Barnaby waved with a wide gesture when he saw her walking over.

She smiled widely. She didn't have to explain herself to him. Thank goodness they were past that. "How's it coming along?" she asked.

"You tell me! Does it look like something you'd want to spend three days in the belly of?"

"Do you want me to be honest?" Carolyn quirked a brow. "But it does look like something a child would want to crawl into."

"That's what we're aiming for," Barnaby said with a smile. "If you'd have asked me a month ago what I'd be doing, it wouldn't have been this. But it's fun!"

"I wonder if this was in the curriculum," Carolyn mused, running a hand over the blue tarp that served as the skin of the 'whale'.

"The idea, yes, the plans, no. But that's the fun, figuring out how to make it happen. We stole some ideas we found online." Barnaby put his finger over his lips to indicate that part was a secret.

Carolyn smiled and looked into the whale's open mouth. Behind the tarp and past the teeth was a tent which served as the whale's head. She stepped inside. It was roomy enough for her to stand up. At the back of the tent was a much smaller tunnel that led into the darkness.

"How much faith do you have? Are you going to take the trip down its throat?" Barnaby stuck his head in to see what she thought.

"The throat?" She pointed to the tunnel. "It leads to?"

"The stomach, of course!"

"Maybe if I wasn't wearing a skirt." Carolyn tugged at the hemline. "Tomorrow night?"

"By tomorrow, it will be absolute perfection. You won't want to miss it!"

Carolyn smiled. His enthusiasm was contagious. She was actually curious about what she'd find at the end of the tunnel.

She stepped back into the parking lot to admire the body of the whale. Several men and boys were taping the tarp over the frame they'd built, and two women were rolling a giant tail into place. Barnaby returned to work, rigging up a hose to serve as the whale's spout.

Carolyn marveled at the amount of time, effort, and dedication they'd put into a five evening event.

Growing up, her family attended the Episcopal church. They didn't have Bible school, and she'd envied her friends that talked about how much fun it was. That was during elementary school, when such things were still cool. By middle grades, her friends complained that their parents made them go with dramatic eye rolls. She had suspected that they didn't hate it as much as they claimed.

Carolyn's church had put on a Bible camp one summer, but it had involved nothing like giant whales or singing songs with altered lyrics. They had learned the history of the church, sung hymns out of the regular hymn book, and put together charity boxes for poor families. The only craft she recalled was tracing their hands and writing an act of service on each finger.

Some of her church friends attended VBS at other churches, and she had asked her mother if she might. She'd been given a firm 'no'. Jesus and religion weren't about play, and her mother didn't believe that they should be made silly.

Her compromise was signing Carolyn up for tennis camp for a week. Her brother Castle attended a hitting and fielding workshop at the local high school. Carolyn enjoyed tennis, and she understood lessons were a strain on the family budget, but it felt like work, not like play. None of her friends attended the same week she did, so she had no one to chatter about it with.

Shared experiences mattered. Making connections mattered. The stories, songs and lessons of VBS had value, but it was the people getting together to make it all happen that had the most value of all. She hadn't thought of that earlier, when there was still time to sign up for a commitment. She'd been distracted with her articles. She hadn't given the issue much thought. She'd never gone to VBS, what was the big deal?

Martha understood, and she had wasted no time getting involved, and getting the children involved as well. The fact that Claymore Gregg, who didn't even have children, was more involved than Carolyn, was embarrassing. Even Barnaby was doing his part.

She felt even worse that evening, on the way home, when Candy asked. "Which night are you doing crafts, Mom?" under the perfectly natural assumption that she would be doing what the other mothers were.

"I don't have a night," Carolyn answered. "I'm afraid I was very busy when they were planning everything. But I'll get involved next year."

"Awww. I told my new friend Libby that she could meet you," Candy whined.

"Maybe I can meet her after Bible school one evening, or at church," Carolyn suggested.

"Look Mommy, my teacher showed me how to make a whale with my hands, and it can open and close its mouth and everything." Jonathan interrupted the conversation.

"I'm sorry Jonathan, I can't look now. I'm driving. Show me when we get home."

"We need to bring two dollars for the ice cream truck tomorrow," Jonathan went on. "It's not the regular truck. It's a surprise."

"Yeah, me too!" Candy added.

"I'm adding that to my list," Martha said, typing into her phone, "Four dollars for ice cream, lemonade and cookies for Thursday, swimsuits for Thursday…am I forgetting anything?"

"Swimsuits?" Carolyn asked.

"Yeah, for our whale of a time!" Candy told her.

Carolyn smiled to herself. She had no idea what any of this had to do with the Bible, but it certainly had to do with fun and love, and that was wonderful. There was a place for tennis and baseball camp, but not as a replacement for this!

XXX

The Captain had forgotten how unpleasant a headache could be. Generally, being a ghostly presence, he didn't feel the maladies he had suffered in a physical body, but today he'd had enough. If he heard one more word about Barnaby, he felt like he'd explode.

He had been certain once the man was out of the home, things would simmer down. The aggravation and worry that he'd been causing Carolyn would cease. Candace would soon busy herself with friends her own age and Jonathan would no longer ask that man, rather than The Captain, for advice on building his sailboat.

Instead, Barnaby had charmed the entire town! Candy wouldn't stop chattering about Barnaby doing this and that for Bible school, and Carolyn was nearly as bad.

He wanted his family back. He didn't mind that they devoted their evenings to church activities. He appreciated that they took their faith and fellowship seriously. He discovered he preferred when Carolyn disliked Barnaby to now. What a multi-talented paragon of virtue that man was!

The situation was getting under his skin. It wasn't fair. First, The Captain's life was cut short, then he was reduced to this shadow of a man, unable to fulfill the duties that were growing more interesting each day.

He felt he was being tormented! Rattling around the empty house, and yes, it was empty this evening. For some reason, Scruffy had accompanied the family to church. What was the world coming to!?

Solitude didn't have the same attraction it once had—when Gull Cottage had been dark, full of cobwebs, and the road received very little traffic. It had been an appropriate haunt for a ghost. Now he felt silly sitting alone. He even stooped so low as to turn the television on and listlessly cycle through the channels in a fruitless search for entertainment.

Rather than remove himself from their minds by moving to the campground, Barnaby had earned himself accolades. Martha put together a box of goodies for him. Candy had given him one of the pillows from her bed! And Carolyn was knee deep in research for their article..

She chattered about the history of Maine, and how the article could encompass both the natural and human history of the state. Had she sought The Captain's input? No! She'd made some vague comment about needing to back up any facts she used with documented sources, which apparently nullified any input the Captain might have had.

Yet somehow Barnaby's yarns and tales of his walking through the woods were considered fine fodder for her article. Anecdotal though it was, she typed away merrily, giggling like a schoolgirl over his trials on the trails, as she put it.

He gave up on the TV and returned to their room, where he grew furious at the disordered state it was in. Carolyn and Martha had been too busy to keep up the house. Carolyn found time for writing, but no time for carrying her coffee cups downstairs, putting away the several pairs of shoes she'd been wearing or emptying the wastepaper bins. The children's room was worse!

For a moment, he considered taking the matter into his own hands. While the family was out, he could set most of the house to rights, but why should he? Wasn't the serving woman hired to do that? Shouldn't the children be more attentive to their chores?

Scruffy's water bowl was nearly empty. All the rugs needed a going over. It was unthinkable, but Martha had left the dinner dishes in the sink!

Nonsense and balderdash! He would not become a chore boy in his own home! Let the invaders clean up after themselves. Let Saint Barnaby come and work a bloody miracle!

The Captain opened and slammed the screen door out of pure frustration. It felt good. He repeated the action. Dammit! This was still his house. He was still his own man! He rushed to the back door, flinging it open as he passed, then out he went and around the house. There was not a single place where something hadn't been changed. Flowers planted, shutters fastened, gravel poured. One of the lions beside the porch was wearing a ridiculous hat that Candy had put on him.

The Captain blew by in a rush, sending the cloth hat sailing.

"Ha ha! This is more like it!" He rubbed his hands together in glee and went sailing around the corner of the house again. Past the blasted trellis and rose bush, past Scruffy's little pool with the home made boats still floating in it. Whoosh! He caused a wave that sent the boats toppling over.

Round and round he went, setting things askew wherever he saw them. He didn't do any actual damage, no more damage than a storm would. The bushes danced, the grass flattened, papers went sailing, then he heard a crack! The Captain stopped short.

A large limb on his monkey puzzle tree had snapped and dangled, swinging in the breeze.

"Blast!" He hurried over to inspect the tree. The tree that had weathered thousands of storms had fallen prey to his anger. It was just a branch…maybe it wasn't so bad. The tree looked lopsided, but looks weren't everything.

He lifted the branch back into place. Perhaps it could be mended by putting a splint on it the way one would with a broken bone. He saw the break was not clean. It was torn and twisted, and he was the cause.

"Blast," he said, more quietly now. His head still ached, but he had a difficult time recalling what he'd been so angry about. The yard looked a wreck, but no damage had been done except for his tree.

"What was I thinking?" he asked. "I wasn't," he answered. He had ceased thinking and had been merely acting out–letting his feelings rule him. It was the way he'd behaved with his sister's family, and Claymore. The way he'd mis-behaved. All his bluster, his silly shows of power, had been no more than tantrums of a man who felt powerless and frustrated.

And here was one more example. He'd been afraid he was losing his family to Barnaby, to the town, and his only thought was destruction and an empty show of power.

He sailed slowly around the yard, setting things right where he could. He simply couldn't bring himself to put the hat on the lion, so he carried it in and set it on the table in the foyer.

He went into the kitchen and stacked the dishes in the sink, adding the coffee cups from Carolyn's room to the rest. On the refrigerator was a crayon drawing Barnaby had made for the children of the parrot that had frightened him in the woods.

He sat on the counter and recalled a story he'd heard Martha read to the children. One day, the Sun and the Wind were arguing over who was the strongest. Back and forth they went without resolution until they saw a man walking down the street wearing an overcoat.

"Ah," the Wind said. "This will settle it. We will each have five minutes to convince the man to remove his coat!"

The Sun gently smiled. "Agreed. You may go first!"

The Wind grinned and worked himself up into a powerful gale. He blew all around the man, sending his hat sailing. He blew and blew and the man pulled his coat tighter around himself. The wind, in frustration, worked into a fury, blowing this way and that, and even in a circle, but the man clenched his coat tighter.

When the Wind's time was up, the Sun came forth. He beamed pleasantly on the man, who soon undid the buttons of his coat. The Sun shot off one more beam and the man slipped out of his coat and laid it over his arm.

The Wind rushed away in a flurry, growling and howling as he went.

The Captain sighed. How had he forgotten not only his own experience, but that simple lesson from a child's book? What had made him think his best option was an empty show of power? Hadn't it been kindness and patience that had nurtured his relationship with Carolyn?

Had he expected that the family would remain isolated here the way he had? That they wouldn't make friends and value other people? He hadn't thought it through. He hadn't considered that real people had needs that a ghost did not.

He was stuck in time, but they were dynamic and growing and changing. He could either change too, or end up alone again, with no one to share his home, his stories or his love.

He could do better. He would do better.

XXX

Carolyn sat in the dim candlelight of the adult classroom and worked on her assignment. Most of vacation Bible school was entertaining, but for an hour each evening, they did some genuine soul searching. The Pastoral team had arranged the schedule so that the adults who were volunteering would also have time to "get fed", spiritually speaking. There were two adult classes every evening.

That alone challenged Carolyn's ideas concerning church participation. When Candy was a baby, Carolyn felt she had ceased to be a church member and was now a child caregiver. Parents were expected to do nursery duty, act as playground monitors, teach Sunday School, bake for the bake sales, and handle the fund raisers.

She decided she'd rather not belong to church. It was more pleasant to stay home with her baby, rather than attend church and end up taking care of several babies.

Robert empathized, but he reminded her that belonging to that church was good for business, and a good way to meet 'their kind of people'. Robert did his part, but conveniently, his part was only a fraction of hers. He helped build stalls for the charity Halloween carnival and helped spread mulch in the playground. He was recruited for the finance committee and asked to field estimates on a roof repair.

Robert was free to attend adult Sunday School and service nearly every week. Carolyn was lucky if she made it once a month.

Here at the Schooner Bay General Church, they wanted everyone to participate in volunteering, attending service, and religious education. Just because she had two children didn't mean she'd be a playground attendant for the next 8 years.

Mrs Levinson had five children, and she wasn't doing any child related roles during VBS. She was in charge of refreshments for the volunteers one hour each evening and free to do her own thing the remaining two hours.

Carolyn contemplated this as she sat with her journal. The leader had asked them to identify spiritual footsteps they did NOT want to follow—which lessons made them turn the other way.

Church as duty, was one of Carolyn's, along with church for business networking, or to meet the 'right kind of people', socioeconomically.

She added Churches that used scare tactics to control member's behavior, and didn't make love and kindness their priorities.

She drew footprints running up and down the page. In each one, she wrote a word. The ones that ran up were the footprints she wanted to follow, and the ones running down, were the footprints that turned her off.

Love, acceptance, joy, cooperation, laughter, belonging, she added to the set going up. Bigotry, manipulation, fear, exploitation, guilt, in the ones running down.

She added 'freedom' to the footsteps going up, then startled at a loud knock on the door.

"Oh my, who could that be?" the leader said with exaggerated surprise. She opened the door and there stood Santa Claus!

"Why Santa? What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Me and some of my friends were having an argument, and we were wondering if you could help solve it!" The white bearded man replied.

"I'm sure we'd like to help if we can. It's never a good thing when friends argue."

"Ho, ho, ho, well, come along then! Follow me!" Santa gestured.

"Wait a second, Santa. How do we know if we should follow you? We've been learning about following Jesus!"

Someone turned the lights on.

"Well, I have great big boots, and I leave great big footprints!" Santa stomped for emphasis.

"We'll come along to help a friend." The leader smiled at the class and motioned for them to follow. The kids were already in the hall with the Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy, and a princess.

"I wonder where this is leading?" a man said to Carolyn.

Carolyn shrugged and shook her head.

The adults filed out of their class and followed the characters and the children into the main fellowship hall. The children sat on the floor, and the characters stood on stage.

A play trial followed. The characters took turns explaining why the people should follow them over the others.

"I'm beautiful!" said the princess. "Don't you want to be just like me?"

"I have candy!" the Easter Bunny pointed out.

"I give gifts!" Santa shouted.

"I leave money!" The tooth fairy dropped quarters from hand to hand.

The audience argued back, "Following you won't make me beautiful."

"Eating all that candy will make me lose my teeth!"

"The gifts you give will wear out and break!"

"I'd rather have my teeth than money! Once I spend it, what do I have left?"

A man walked in wearing ordinary clothes. He approached the stage and climbed up.

"Why are you here? Yeah, what can you give us?" Someone in the audience called.

The man whistled. "I can put a tune in your heart," he offered.

Then he danced a little soft shoe. "And some joy in your step!"

"I can make you feel warm inside when you're feeling cold and cool you down when your temper is hot!"

"When you're lost, I can show you the way!" He pulled out a map. "But the best thing I have to give is love!" He unzipped the hoodie he was wearing, and on his chest was a glowing heart with the name 'Jesus' above it

"Oooo," said all the children and some of the adults.

"There are a lot of footprints that you could follow, but you need to be sure they'll take you where you want to go." The newcomer warned.

"All of you have your place," Jesus said to the other four characters, "But only I can lead you to the most important place of all! Straight to my Father in Heaven."

Several of the children spontaneously cheered and clapped. The play was having a powerful effect on them.

Claymore arrived with his clarinet, and the littlest children sang "Hosanna!" Then Martha sat at the piano and the older children sang. Carolyn was relieved that the middle schoolers didn't do their version of 'Walk This Way'.

"Wasn't that clever?" Mrs Carter, the school principal, said to Carolyn. "Every year I think they can't beat last year, and somehow they do!"

"Yes, this is quite a production," Carolyn agreed. "Such creative minds and talents. That whale they built is very impressive."

"Thanks to Candy's friend Barnaby, I hear," Mrs Carter said. "They were going to do a scaled-down version, but he came in and convinced them that the life-sized version was doable."

"Barnaby and I are working on an article about the new Crests to Coast trail," Carolyn told her. "I suppose when you're living out of a backpack for months on end, it helps to be handy and creative."

"Do you have any idea how long he's planning to be here?"

Carolyn could tell by the woman's tone she had something in mind.

"No, I'm afraid I don't. Why?"

"Well, we could use someone handy at the school. Some of it is assembling classroom furniture and equipment that we've purchased. But I have some other projects in mind that I could use some creative input, especially how to do them on a budget."

"I can't answer for him, but he might welcome the work. I'm sure he needs to earn some money before his next adventure, and I promise you he's quite artistic. Look at this moose he and Candy made." Carolyn brought up the photos of the moose.

"I love it! This is exactly the sort of thing I'm talking about. Someone who sees the possibilities in things." When she smiled, her eyes got bright and wide and she looked just like her daughter Maree.

Carolyn knew it was silly, but she felt proud that Barnaby was such a hit. She had nothing to do with it. Candy found him, and Martha got him involved in VBS, but Carolyn was enjoying his success vicariously.

"He's staying at the campground," Carolyn explained. She was a little embarrassed that he was no longer her guest, so she added. "It's easier for him to be close to town. We're so isolated up there and he doesn't have a car."

"Oh, that's fine. We could lend him a bike to get back and forth to the school. Here I am, acting as if it's a done deal, when I haven't even spoken to him yet. I guess that's what makes me a good principal; I'm a natural born problem solver and I get people to agree to my plans before they even know what hit them!"

"The kids will be starting school so soon. They're excited, and I'm excited for them, but the house will be so quiet! Most days, I don't know how I'll find the time to get my writing done, and in a few weeks, I'll probably be looking for something to do with myself," Carolyn admitted.

"We have several volunteer opportunities at the school, but you never know, you might really find your groove. Pretty soon you'll have a best seller!" Kyleen squeezed her arm. "You'll put Schooner Bay on the map!"

They shared a laugh, but her words had gotten Carolyn's mind whirring. She hadn't given much thought to a novel. She'd always considered her writing grounded in facts because that was how her writing career began. True, she had begun a story with the Captain–was it nearly a year ago?! But that was fueled by the Captain's stories and experiences.

"Mommy, did you see? Did you see the Easter Bunny? Wasn't he ha-lar-i-ous?" Candy hurried over. "Hello Mrs Carter," she said. She was nearly breathless with enthusiasm.

"They were all funny, but also quite wise," Carolyn said.

"I know they're just church people, but they were so funny that I kinda forgot." Candy went on. "How did they make Jesus's heart light up like that?"

"Sometimes it's more fun if we don't know how they did it!" Mrs Carter suggested. "Just enjoy the magic!"

Maree hurried over and both girls were speaking at once, jabbering about a sleepover, and practicing their song together, and promising not to stay up too late."

Carolyn held her hands up in the timeout signal. "I think that Vacation Bible School is enough excitement for this week,"

"But Mommmmmm…." Candy groaned.

"Mrs Carter and I can talk about a day next week when maybe we can do a sleepover."

"But–" Candy began. Carolyn silenced her with a pointed look.

"Yes, Ma'am," the girl conceded. "Come on, Maree. Let's go. We don't want to miss snack. I helped pick out the cookies!" Candy grabbed her friend's hand, and they ran off.

"That boundless energy!" Principal Carter marveled as the girls hurried away. "I remember being their age and feeling exactly that way. Not wanting a good day to end."

"The thing is, if we'd allowed them a sleepover, they would probably have fallen asleep before 10 o'clock. This is the one week when the children haven't complained at all about going to bed. They're going 100% while they're here and then collapse once we get home," Carolyn remarked.

Mrs Carter nodded. "We'll have to get our calendars together. Maybe tomorrow evening? Now I think I'll try to catch up with Barnaby now. After snack, the whale is going to blow!"

Carolyn nodded. The kids had worn their bathing suits under their shorts, so they could play in the spray. Each night of VBS had gotten more and more exciting. She couldn't imagine what they'd do on Friday to top this.

XXX

It was dusk when the family got home. They were tired, and eager to get inside and ready for bed. They didn't notice the broken branches and flattened greenery.

When Scruffy did his rounds before entering the house, he noticed things were amiss. They smelled right, but looked wrong. The trash bin was lying on its side and all his toys were up against the fence rather than scattered about.

He trotted around, peed on anything that puzzled him, then went into the house. He'd enjoyed his time at Bible School. He hadn't been required to learn lessons or sing. He ran around the churchyard with several other dogs and joined in the parade around the parking lot at the end of the evening.

Barnaby let him explore the whale. Scruffy had gone right down the tunnel/gullet and into the belly of the beast, where he scratched around at the furnishings before finding his way back out. Then he joined the children, playing in the spray. All around it had been as wonderful a night for him as it had been for the rest of the family.

"Mom, Scruffy didn't get to make a footprint. Can we make one for him?" Jonathan asked as he pulled his pj's on.

"I still have to make a footprint. I guess we can make Scruffy's at the same time," Carolyn allowed. "Then we'll have the whole family!"

"What about Barnaby?" Candy asked. "We need his footprint, too."

Carolyn signed quietly. She didn't want to get into it this evening, but Barnaby (like Claymore) was not family.

"I think we should get a print of Barnaby's boot!" Jonathan said. "Since those are the kinds of footprints he leaves most often."

"That's actually a pretty good idea," Candy marveled that her brother had an idea worth considering.

"If we get any more footprints, we won't have room on the wall for anything else!" Carolyn pointed out, in an effort to gently guide Candy away from the idea of Barnaby being part of the family.

"Our teacher said that her grandfather was one of 14 kids!" Candy recalled. "Imagine all those footprints! Imagine all those marks on the wall measuring how tall they were!"

Carolyn couldn't imagine. 14 children! Likely, the age difference between the oldest and youngest was at least 20 years. It wasn't as if there had been 14 elementary school-aged children running around the home. But that wasn't something she cared to go into right now. She could tell by their faces that they were imagining one of their school classrooms full of children, but all living at Gull Cottage.

"They'd have to eat in shifts," Jonathan said, scratching his head. "Cause there wouldn't be enough room at the table."

"And their couch would have to be a mile long so they could all sit on it to watch TV," Candy added.

Carolyn didn't interject that there probably was no TV during the time period in question.

"And their jump rope would have to be two miles long!" Candy was giggling now.

"They'd need a gigantic Christmas tree to hang their stockings on, because the fireplace wouldn't be big enough." Jonathan threw his hands up in the air.

"How many roller skates would they need? And how many wheels would that be?" Candy lolled her head around to show that it was way too much for her brain to handle.

Carolyn's brain was still stuck on the idea of 14 pregnancies and 14 labors. Of course, she didn't know if any of the children had been twins, or if they'd all had the same mother. They might have been the progeny of 3 mothers. It really wasn't all that long ago that things had been immensely different.

"Ok you two, bedtime." Carolyn clapped her hands together.

"14 teddy bears!" Candy said, crawling into bed.

"14 beds! Wow, that's a lot of sheets to wash!" Jonathan marveled.

"They probably shared beds," Carolyn suggested, but still, that was a lot of beds.

"Maybe they had triple decker bunk beds," Candy said. "Or four decker, or five decker!"

"Maybe they slept on the stairs, one person per stair," Jonathan imagined.

"Hope no one had to get up and pee at night!" Candy said, and both kids broke into chortles.

Carolyn could see she wasn't going to get anywhere with these two. "OK you two, time for bed. I love you!" She turned off the light, left the room and left the door halfway open. She could hear them talking and giggling behind her.

XXX

Carolyn went to her room. The windows were open and papers and clothing were strewn around the room.

"Must have been a wind storm while we were gone," she said, picking up a shirt from the floor. The mail that had been on her desk was all over the room. "It was perfectly calm and clear in town. I guess that's what I get for living at the top of a cliff." She realized she was talking to herself.

Or not…

"Well, Madame, how was your evening? Is Barnaby continuing to insert himself into all your affairs?" The Captain's voice boomed, filling the entire room.

"He's been very helpful and everyone seems to like him. The school principal is planning to hire him to do some work there," she reported.

"Principal, I assume, refers to the headmistress!" The Captain went on. "Does she know what she's about hiring a vagrant?"

Carolyn put her hands on her hips and faced the binnacle, assuming he was in his usual spot. "What's gotten into you? I thought you liked Barnaby. You told me I was being silly when I wasn't comfortable with him," she reminded him.

"Yes, well, upon further observation…I don't think we need another man about the house." The Captain shimmered into blurry view.

"But he's not about the house. He's living in town and he's not coming back here other than to work on that article with me. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were jealous!" She hung up the shirt and closed the wardrobe door.

"Jealous of what?" The Captain scoffed. "Of him building a Moby Dick out of discarded items? Of him walking his boots off when there are perfectly good means of transport that take less time and effort? He's nothing but a collection of useless talents!"

Carolyn sat on the edge of her bed, slipped her shoes off and stretched her legs and toes. "I wish you could have seen all the fun the children had tonight. There was a little play, and then the whale spouted water and the children danced in it." She smiled at the memory. "There's a saying that people won't remember everything you said or did, but they'll always remember how you made them feel."

"And your point is?" His tone was peevish.

"My point is, sometimes we focus on the wrong details, when what really matters is the experience. Look at all the fun Jonathan had building that car and those boats."

"Your serving woman said that contained a scientific lesson."

"Yes, but the chances are that Jonathan won't remember kinetic energy and friction and all that, but he'll remember that we took the time to work together and play together." Carolyn rolled back her shoulders to relax them.

"I'll remind you it was I who inspired Jonathan's inquiry," he said stiffly.

"That's my point. You encouraged his curiosity. That will stick with him. He'll recall feeling good and having fun learning new things." She rolled her head back and forth to loosen her neck.

The Captain's brows drew together. He wanted to reach out and caress her neck to relieve the stiffness and tension. He wanted to be more than a voice and a sparring partner. This Barnaby had strolled into their lives and made himself useful through the power of his physical presence. The Captain imagined Barnaby's hands on Carolyn's neck. The mere thought made his blood boil.

He had to stop torturing himself. He needed to remain calm, not act out in another frenzy, sending things flying in all directions.

"I got to thinking earlier. We were doing an activity—" Carolyn wondered how to explain it to him. "About whose footsteps we walked in…whose example we follow."

The Captain's mind settled on the perhaps millions of footsteps Barnaby had made during his many travels, and how she was going to help him blaze a trail for others through their article.

"It got me thinking about all the influences in my life. It felt easier to identify the footsteps I purposely avoided, rather than the ones I intentionally followed," Carolyn admitted. "Maybe it's because I don't want to give anyone credit for anything I've done."

The Captain paced the room. "You have much to be proud of, and much of what you have is the result of your own hard work!" He was trying to get back to those good feelings she had been talking about.

Carolyn shrugged. "I have worked, but I'm not sure how hard. And when I think about the comfortable life I had with Robert, that was more the result of choices he made. Including the one to go into a field that pays well."

"There are many people who worked harder than him and made a lot less money." She dropped her hands into her lap. "I try to be kind, honest and polite. Who did I learn that from? Maybe the most important footsteps I've followed were from my nursery school teacher," Carolyn realized.

"But that's true for us all. Our entire lives are built on the pains and efforts of the ones who lived before us. Those aeroplanes you fly in have their foundation in someone in a forest watching leaves flutter to the ground and birds soar." The Captain imitated a falling leaf with his hand.

"Speaking of leaves falling, what happened here tonight? Things were blown all over my room!" Carolyn asked.

He reddened a bit. "The wind off the sea, madam. The tide was coming in."

She accepted his answer and went to her dresser to retrieve a nightgown. She picked up her hairbrush and brushed the tangles from her bob. "I've enjoyed going to Vacation Bible School, but it will be nice to get back to our normal schedule," she mused. "Nice to have our summer evenings to walk on the beach or just watch TV."

"Captain? How did you spend evenings with your family?"

"That was a long time ago. Do you expect me to remember?" he challenged. Then he sighed and shared what he did recall. "We read, or were read to. Repaired broken items. My mother and sisters sewed. Sometimes I'd work burrs from our dog's fur. I'd grind the coffee for the next day in our little mill."

"Sounds like you remember quite a bit," she praised.

"Summer evenings were long and light. We worked later and were tired from the long days. Winter evenings were dark. We had a lantern, but there was less we could do. Our hands were too cold for any fine work. My father would sit nearest the lantern and read the paper. I enjoyed it, save for the political articles, which were dry as dust to a boy."

"Some things never change," Carolyn remarked with a smile.

He gazed past her shoulder to her reflection in the glass. The years and exposure to the salt air had damaged the mirror. It was faded, and spotted with tarnish, but it could not hide Carolyn's natural beauty.

He could not see himself in the mirror. He could not even touch her reflection.

XXX