Chapter 27 – Back on St. Lucy
Warm pastel sunset splashes across the sky above the soft Caribbean beach. Gentle waves caress the sand and draw back slowly in lacy retreat, then return to nuzzle the sand again softly in an endless rhythm. Above the water's edge, a few gulls and pelicans drift on the lazy breeze that carries the soft clean air in from the sea. The light percussion of the water splashing the shore is broken with a subchorus of intermittent sea bird calls, haunting and lonely.
Annetka exits the greenhouse on the beach, wearing a light summer daytime dress, carrying a canvas beach bag over her left shoulder. She pulls the door closed behind her, latching it securely to protect the plants inside from the vagaries of the wind. The warm breeze tosses her long loose hair and caresses her, as if welcoming her back outside. She stops and stands facing the coastline, looking out over the panorama of the sea. The beauty of St. Lucy, the only home she has ever known, fills her being as she takes a deep breath of the salty clean air. St. Lucy, the beach, her anchor points in a chaotic world, are a part of her, just as she is a part of St. Lucy. She stands for a few minutes, breathing deeply and slowly, relaxed, looking out over the sunset beach, until she feels completely at peace and at one with her world.
Behind her, from the direction of the road, Baldwin appears, walking quietly towards her. He sees her standing silhouetted against the sunset, her light dress fluttering against her skin, her light hair flowing. He thinks of a frame from an old movie shot in the South Pacific, then of a magazine ad. None of the reminiscences that flit across his mind can match the reality of the transcendent beauty of the moment, the place, the woman he loves. He watches her and walks towards her slowly and quietly as all the memories and flickering pictures are washed away by the perfect reality of the moment.
She becomes aware of his approach, though she neither hears nor sees him. He comes close, stands at her right side. Slowly he puts his left arm around her waist and very gently draws her close. Gently he kisses the top of her head, then rubs his cheek softly against her hair. She leans her head against his shoulder, and he strokes the side of her head softly with his right hand, then kisses the top of her head again.
"You're late," she says softly. "I was going home," she adds.
"Mmm," he responds, nuzzling the side of her head gently, smelling her hair. "You've caught me. I was out with another woman."
"Liar," she says. "I know you. You were working late again."
He smiles and takes her head in both his hands gently, turning her face to his. "You know me so well," he answers her when their eyes meet. She pouts in response. "So let's get married," he says, not for the first time.
"It isn't time yet," she answers, not for the first time. She pulls back a tiny bit, just enough to get him to drop his hands from her face. "Besides, do you expect me to marry a man who'll never be home on time? It'll only get worse. We're doomed," she adds with a sigh and a smile.
"Doomed to be together forever," he responds. "I'll accept that fate anytime."
She breathes deeply again and turns to face the lingering sunset. Again he puts his arm around her and draws her close. This time she extends her right arm around his waist in response, and they stand locked together. Together they watch the sea a little while longer, until the land falls dim and the birds fall silent.
"Let's go sit with Paddy," the scientist says at last, when the sky has fallen to charcoal. He squeezes her waist gently, as if pulling her to go.
"Paddy?" she asks.
"Paddy O'Furniture," he responds. "Irish. Worse than me. Stays out all night."
She smiles and they walk back toward the greenhouse, where they've recently set up a collection of patio furniture on the sand.
"Want something to drink?" Baldwin asks as he releases his girlfriend’s hand and opens the greenhouse door.
"Sure, anything that's there," she responds with a shrug, and reclines on a comfortable chair.
He comes back out with two open bottles of something, maybe the local beer, maybe fruit juice. He hands her one and sits next to her in the moonlight. "I love you, girl," he tells her.
"I love you too," she answers. "So, how's work going?" she adds a vague open question, taking a hesitant sip of the drink. She wants to know what kept him apart from her for the last few hours, but it isn't in her nature to be pushy or intrusive. She's happy that he's here now. Still, she wonders.
"Everything's smooth. We're through the lab trials and the government approvals. That's a lot easier here than in the states, I can tell you. We even filed patent applications. Oh, and now we've found a small commercial lab here on the island that's agreed to manufacture a few runs of the stuff. We don't think we're going to need a lot here in the islands. The outbreak isn't that big yet, and the population is small. That's where I was this afternoon, working some things out at the manufacturing facility. The government's still talking to itself about whether to do a full scale vaccination program. Anyway, we should be ready to start general distribution to hospitals here in the islands within a fortnight. Here's to your health," he says, raising his drink.
"Here's to the health of the islands and all their people," she responds, clinking her drink against his.
They sip their drinks and watch the full moon rise in the dark sky, enjoying each other's company and the warm night.
"Hospitals can get it already, can't they?" Annetka asks after a while. "I thought you were already giving it to hospitals."
"Yes, we are. I am. But it's on a clinical trial basis," he answers. "Each case has to be approved to participate in the trial. The victims, or their families, sign waivers. They all get approval. There's no problem with that. But it's a small scale, handcrafted approach. A couple of weeks from now any doctor in the islands should be able to get the medication in a standardized dose without talking to me. They'll just order it through pharmacies. Now that we've got the manufacturing started." He takes another sip of his drink and decides it's probably beer.
"I'm glad you're here," Annetka remarks after a minute. "I mean, not just here for me now, but here on St. Lucy, working on things like this. Saving people's lives. It's good. It makes me feel safer. It makes me feel like the world is a safer place; like St. Lucy is a safer place."
"So, America's loss is your gain, then, hey?" he summarizes. "That's nice to hear," he comments, leaning back a bit more in his chair. After a pause he adds, "from you."
"You know how I feel about you," she answers.
"It's still nice to hear," he says. "Maybe I'm insecure. I don't know. I like hearing you say things like that. Makes me feel safer myself, I guess." He looks at her for a second to gauge her mood. "Safe you aren't harboring some seething undercurrent of silent anger about me being late tonight," he ends with a smile and a straight look.
"Not mad," she answers, shaking her head and smiling, meeting his eyes with hers. "Just happy you're here now."
"Okay, so, do you want to go out to dinner now?" he asks, his voice going up enquiringly at the end as he sits up a bit straighter, turning in his chair to suggest action. "It's not very late really. World Harmony's open at least til midnight."
"Funny thing, I brought some Chinese carry out food," she answers, "in those little white cardboard cartons, you know? I'd been thinking we might eat here. Maybe spend the night. I don't know if it's still good. It's been sitting out for a few hours now, in a greenhouse in the tropics on a hot afternoon." Standing up from her chair, she shrugs and turns the palms of her hands toward the sky. "You're the scientist," she turns over the question to Baldwin. "You decide."
Baldwin also rises from his chair. "Well, we're young and strong. We could probably chance it," he allows, putting both arms around her waist and drawing her close, "but World Harmony is a safer bet. Anyway it's a Friday night. Let's go out." As an afterthought he adds, "Let's take the carry-out food with us though, and throw it out someplace. I don
't want to attract rats to the greenhouse."
So, carrying two half empty drink bottles and a bag of Chinese carry-out, they walk up toward the road. Before they can go twenty yards along the road toward town, they turn around at the sound of a car stopping behind them near the greenhouse. Nothing else occupies that stretch of beach, so they pause to look. In the moonlight they see a tall young man step out of the car and look at the greenhouse, then up the road at them.
"Friend or foe?" Baldwin calls out.
"Are those all the options?" Doug calls back.
"Look what the sea washed up onto the beach!" Baldwin responds, recognizing the voice. He pulls Annetka's hand gently to walk back toward the visitor. "We were just going out to eat. Want to join us? World Harmony Cafe. Great place. Real food."
"Sure. Don't mind if I do. Want a ride?" Doug says as the two arrive at the car. "What are you carrying, lab samples? The car's a rental, so I don't care if you bring it along."
"Trash," Annetka responds. "It used to be food. We just need to throw it out."
"Romantic," Doug smiles. "Baldy really knows how to treat a girl."
"I guess you're much better at that," Baldwin responds. "Is Katrina with you?"
"Very funny," Doug answers, losing the smile. "I wish I could get her to come down here. But, no, she's still with Charlie. And she's still in college. Come on, get in the car. I'm hungry."
With that they all pile into the rental car and take off for the Cafe. During the short trip Doug catches them up on current events in the north. Charlie is well on his way to recovery. Katrina's Liberty Tea is becoming a megahit. Cats like the kibble. The lawyers think the tea is probably legal, like health food and herbal remedies. The government is the same dysfunctional shambles. The good news is, a few of the party members seem to be starting to wake up, Charlie among them.
They park on the street near World Harmony. Baldwin discards the drink bottles and the bag of carry-out food in a green metal barrel under an antique street light.
Even though it's Friday night, they still see a few empty tables on the patio. They choose the nearest one, at the edge of the sidewalk. Seeing them sit down, a waitress brings over menus, walking slowly, her skirt swaying, looking around at each table as she passes it. As she sets down the menus, she casts a flirtatious glance at a young man sitting alone at the next table, before turning to look in turn at Baldwin and Doug. Annetka and Baldwin order from memory while Doug speed-reads through the eclectic selections.
"Three soft tacos with rice and beans, and a papaya mango smoothie," Doug announces his choice, and the waitress nods and withdraws.
"Decisive. I like that in an entrepreneur," Baldwin chides his friend.
Doug grins cheerlessly. "I'm doing it for Katya," he says flatly.
"I know," Baldwin answers seriously. "So, any luck at all on that? She didn't seem all that in love with Charlie anymore, quite frankly, when we saw her on the Skype call. She seemed pretty close to the end of her rope."
Doug sighs and nods agreement. "She is. But the girl's tenacious. She can hold on to the end of a rope for a good long while."
He pauses and breathes deeply, turning introspective. After a minute passes and no one else speaks, he continues. "I don't know. Sometimes I think she's drawn to me, in that way. Other times I think she just wants out of her mess, and she doesn't know what she wants beyond that."
"One thing is certain," he adds, after another silent pause. "She won't run out on Charlie before he's fully cured. I've known her since we were kids, and it isn't in her nature to run out on a friend in trouble. When he's fully cured, then we'll see how things are. I think I've got a fighting chance." He pauses again as the waitress brings the drinks and sets them out around the table. Taking a sip of the papaya mango smoothie, he smiles a little. "Anyway, isn't that all anybody has in the end?" he concludes. "A fighting chance?"
Baldwin nods. "Every day above ground is a small victory over death," he agrees, remembering something an old Irish doctor had said to him once at a conference. "Every day we face the world, the world also has to face us," he repeats another encouraging phrase someone had once aimed at him. Nothing original occurs to him to say.
A silent laugh flickers across Doug's face.
"What?" Baldwin wants to know.
"Nothing," Doug answers, shaking his head and smiling. Unable to suppress a grunted chuckle, he finally shares the thought, "If Katrina were here, she'd have said: A stitch in time saves nine." At that he breaks into a full-blown smile, and the other two laugh.
"Nothing ventured, nothing gained," Annetka tries.
Doug nods, smiling only slightly, the expression in his eyes thanking her for the effort.
Baldwin tries to think of a humorous non sequitor to prop up the mood. "If you've got your health, you've got everything," he tries, and the other two snicker. "Give me Liberty Tea, or give me death," he adds. That gets actual laughs all around.
After another quiet minute, Annetka interrupts the silence. "We heard about another bridge collapsing. Was that as bad as the news reports made it out to be?" she asks, curious about conditions in the states. She finds it hard to believe that a country like America, a country of legendary, almost mythical stature, could be deteriorating the way the stories say.
"Probably worse," Doug answers matter of factly. "I didn't see the news reports you got here, so I don't really know what you saw or heard. I don't even know which bridge you heard about. There have been three I know about in recent memory. Who would have thought it possible, right? But the people don't want to pay taxes. So the roads and bridges and dams aren't maintained. They fall into disrepair. It's like what happened when the sea walls gave out in New Orleans. Nobody would foot the bill to shore them up. I cringe to think what happens if -- when -- a major dam gives out. It could be like Katrina all over again. Worse."
Doug shakes his head again and tries to smile. Failing that, he takes a deep breath, exhales, and takes another drink of the tropical fruit smoothie. "That's a really good drink," he comments.
The other two nod, still looking at him.
So they want more news.
"Well," Doug continues, "There are almost no emergency services anymore. Very little anyway. No taxes means no money for government services." Seeing Annie's expression, he shrugs helplessly. She looks incredulous.
"The emergency services are the easiest to cut because most of the time you don't need them," he explains. "So what little is left is pretty ineffectual when an actual bridge really collapses. Even the National Guard is decimated, because so many of them have been sent over to fight in the Middle East. You know what the National Guard is, right?" he asks, directing the question to Annetka.
She tilts her head, shrugs, and shakes her head no, with an apologetic pout.
"The National Guard is the military group that's supposed to respond to domestic emergencies, like hurricanes and, well, bridges collapsing. Most of those guys have been called to active duty, meaning they've been sent to fight in the Middle East. Army Reserve, same thing. So there's really nobody left to respond to domestic emergencies. The local people are mostly on their own. So when a bridge collapses, yeah, there are a lot of deaths."
After a pause he adds, "Very little taxes, though." His gaze encompasses them both, then focuses on each of them in turn. "Death and taxes?"
"Yeah, we get the reference," Baldwin responds. "It just isn't funny."
Annie smiles in a strained and sorrowful way, making an effort. "It's so sad," she says plaintively.
"Sad indeed," Doug agrees. "The good news is, we three here are doing something about it. Doing our small part. Which reminds me, Baldwin, our girl Katya managed to bag you some lab samples from the old cat lady that died. You remember that good old girl in the LiberTEA party, kept a lot of cats? She'd been preparing food at home and bringing it to party events for decades. W
ell, even though there was no autopsy, apparently there were blood and tissue samples taken before she died, when they were still trying to save her. It wasn't all destroyed. They found some in the back of a fridge someplace. A good friend of Kat's knows a nurse who has connections with the hospital. They scored the leftover lab samples. So I've got that stuff for you. Shall I bring it by your lab in the afternoon?"
"Tomorrow is Saturday," Baldwin eventually answers, glancing at his girlfriend. "I'd hoped to sleep in late," he continues, looking sideways at Annie again and then back at Doug. But excitement about getting the samples lays hold of him in less than ten seconds. "Then again I want them right now, to be honest. Are they refrigerated?"
Doug nods. "They're on the boat. It has electricity and a good refrigerator."
"Can we go by the boat tonight after dinner, and take the samples back to the lab?" Baldwin asks. "That way I'll have them there as soon as I go in again, and we can still sleep late tomorrow."
"Fine with me," Doug agrees, glancing at Annie.
She shrugs and smiles, eyes twinkling as if with secret knowledge, as if she's seen the show already and knows the ending.
"That's what we'll do, then," Doug concludes, looking off into the near distance where the waitress is appearing with a big tray of dinner. The others turn to look at her just as she arrives at the table.
"Mmm, that smells good," Annetka says approvingly when a big plate of Indian curry is set in front of her.
"Yes, it does," Doug agrees, inhaling the fried corn and salsa smell as his Mexican plate is set down.
Baldwin just nods, staring unfocused into the distance, seeing nothing around him as thoughts play through his head. He'd like to start on the lab work tonight, but he isn't willing to disappoint Annie twice in one day.
"You can go start the lab work tonight," Annie announces as if reading his mind, taking a bite of her vegetable curry.
Baldwin looks over to see her eyes on him. He is aware that she has spoken, but he has been so lost in thought that he hasn't heard the actual words.
"It's okay," she says, repeating the message. "You're already working inside your head. You might as well be doing it in the lab. You won't be happy any other way. You'll be thinking about those samples all night. You won't sleep. Just go ahead and get started on the lab work. It'll be all right. After dinner, though."
Baldwin blinks. "Really?" he asks.
"Of course really," she answers. "and you can still sleep late tomorrow. That is, if you actually go to sleep anytime tonight. Come down to the beach in the afternoon, if you want. I'll be going swimming."
They look at each other with complete recognition, like soul mates. He blinks again. It's hard for him to believe he can be this lucky. He wants to embrace her on the spot, but it's a public place. She smiles and breaks eye contact, looking away toward the sauces and chutneys on the table. "Mango chutney?" she asks Doug, who considers it honestly for a tenth of a second and then decides no.
"I'd love to get some of what you two have," he answers her. "What you have together. Not the mango chutney though."
She smiles and shrugs, then dabs some chutney on a poppadum chip and eats it herself.
"Good luck with that," she addresses Doug. "I think Katrina likes you a lot. She's very confused about her feelings for this other guy, Charlie, though. At least, that's what I thought, as a woman. Are the tacos good?"
"Excellent," he responds.
"So you've known her since you were kids?" Annetka asks.
"That's right," Doug tells her. "Went to the same summer camp. I think I might have fallen in love with her the first time I saw her, high up in a tree near the place where we used to swim. She was spying on us. She had binoculars! Can you believe that? Maybe it was after that though. Hard to be sure."
"What was she doing up in the tree?" Annie wonders.
"Studying juvenile male Homo Sapiens pack behavior," Doug answers. "That's what she told me later when I saw her on land and asked. She was keeping a notebook and everything. Lab notes, she said." He gives out a little nostalgic laugh remembering it. "Come to think of it, that might have been when I fell in love with her. She was destined to be a scientist, that much was obvious."
"Sounds like she studied cooking concepts with the same scientific approach," Annie observes.
"You bet," he replies. "Everything she does, she approaches it scientifically, and she does it with a passionate intensity. The drink recipes she's come up with are going to make this whole Tea company idea work, and work big. She even does art! Have you seen the bottles she's designed for the bottled drinks? She has a dozen slightly different shapes, and seven slightly different shades of tinted glass. The bottles alone will become collector's items. Oh, that reminds me, I have to tell Baldwin. She wants him to look into adding a trace of catnip into the kibble! She's worked out a recipe that cats love. Combines the treated kibble with some fresh fish parts and what not, including the aforementioned catnip. Baldwin should make sure it still works therapeutically." He stops talking to the girl and turns to Baldwin.
"Baldwin hasn't been following the conversation," Annetka tells Doug. Doug is staring at Baldwin and Baldwin is staring into space.
"He's thinking about the lab tests he's going to set up tonight, wondering what samples you've brought, things like that. He'll be back with us in a few minutes," she says with assurance. "Look at us!" she adds, and Doug turns back to look at her. "You and me. We're both in love with scientists. Well, this is what you're letting yourself in for, if you think you want something like what we've got."
"I'll take it," Doug answers without hesitation.
Annetka sighs. "Why did you let her get away from you in college? How did this Charlie come into the picture?"
"Oh, I was an idiot," Doug says simply. "We went to different colleges. I thought I had time. Just ... an idiot, that's all."
They both laugh a little. Baldwin looks at them enquiringly.
"Oh, you're awake again," Doug comments.
"Katrina wants you to try adding a little catnip into the cat food," Annetka fills in what Baldwin's missed. "She's sent a recipe with Doug."
Baldwin nods.
"She wants us to set up a cat food canning plant here in the islands," Doug adds. "She thinks rich cat owners will favor canned cat food, and she wants to keep the recipe secret. She has a beautiful label design too. I'm going to talk to some guys here tomorrow or Monday about setting up a canning operation. There have to be a lot of seafood scraps we can pick up from all the fishing that goes on here, so it's an ideal industry for the island too."
Again Baldwin nods. "All true," he says. "It'll be good for the island to have the canning work. I'm assuming you're talking about ethical standards, good working conditions, and all that."
"Absolutely," Doug agrees. "Keep in mind we'll be selling this cat food to rich people, and the cats love it. So we can charge enough for the end product. We'll be able to afford to pay for reasonable working conditions, fair wages. To be honest I wouldn't agree to it otherwise."
"Why do you care?" Annetka enquires flatly, then looks at him with her big dark blue eyes.
"Fair question," Doug replies, "and I'll be honest with you. Katrina is a partner in this venture, and she's in charge of Research and Development. As the business gets going, she might come down here and hang around from time to time. I want her to be comfortable here. The people who work in the factories, and their families, are people we'll run into on the street and on the beaches. If the factory is a good place to work, they'll treat her with respect and affection. They'll like her. Otherwise not so much. That's just how life works. People who don't know you tend to judge you by what they think you represent. And of course in my hypothetical dream world, there's a chance I might get together with Katrina, romantically. Maybe come to live on the island. I want to give my dream a fighting chance."
A
nnetka smiles at him. "A fighting chance," she agrees.
Finishing their dinner, they return to Doug's rental car and drive down to the harbor.
The yacht sits moored at the pier beside fishing boats. The soft dark sky is splashed with white stars and a round full moon. The three friends step out of the car into the warm night air, stopping a minute to look around at the postcard perfection of the scene. The bejeweled sky, the bright cold moon, and the boats that float on the sea beneath them, all are reflected almost perfectly in the dark still water. They walk quietly up the wooden pier and onto the boat, not wanting to break the peaceful silence.
Inside the cabin of the boat, Doug opens a refrigerated compartment and pulls out a deep vegetable drawer at the bottom. The drawer is full of crushed ice. A few cans of beer can be seen just under the ice layer. He reaches through the ice and pulls out a large plastic food container, within which can be seen the sample jars. He hands the box to Baldwin. Baldwin smiles broadly.
"This is great," Baldwin announces, looking at the labels. "Thanks for bringing these down, Doug."