A real doozy- My short story entry for We-Write#2

“They say a ship’s run aground over near Harper’s Cove,” said an old man in overalls, hanging up the corded phone. There was a sense of permanence about the Coast Rescue shack, between the scratched furniture and fading paint it looked as though it had sat there near the sea for ages. The midday salty air wisped through the open windows, gently rustling the loose papers on the man’s desk. “John says it’s a real doozy.”

“That's too bad, I was hoping to spend some time in town today,” Becky rolled her eyes, but smiled as she threw on her reflective red jacket. “Do you think we’ll need help from the mainland?”

“Nah, I don’t think so. Probably nothing you can’t handle,” he smiled back, with equal measures of pride and sadness. His own safety jacket was slowly collecting dust on the back of his chair.

“Thanks, Dad,” Becky said as she grabbed the keys off the wall. Stepping past the creaky screen door and off the porch, she could feel the August sun burning down. It was almost the off-season, when things would quiet down. The rolling crashes of the cobalt waves grew louder as she descended the wooden steps down to the rocky beach. It’d be a great day to go swimming, she thought, but duty calls. The tugboat by the dock rose and fell, and with the ease of expertise she climbed on and started the engine.

Becky would have to around to the north side of the coast line, a route she was so familiar with that she did not have to think much while navigating. She could see much of the town as she coasted by, the place where she had spent nearly two decades. Her parents, Walden and Kary Dreaver had settled here twenty two years ago because Kary had landed a plumb government posting. Becky could see the top two floors of the school building where Kary joined as the HOD-Science and Maths and where Becky had studied. Thinking of school inevitably led to Hawke Taylor.

Becky deliberately focused on the coast line unwinding before her. She checked the dials and the radioed to the distressed ship and then with nothing much to do noticed "Don's Real BBQ" a huge ugly sign atop a twenty foot pole. She had served there- her first job, her first meeting with the school jock- Hawke. Again Becky shook herself and looked ahead, she scooped a granola bar from the supplies drawer and started to chew.

The tug was now turning into Harper's Cove. The pride of the coastline- the century old lighthouse dominated the tongue of rock jutting into the sea. Becky gritted her teeth refusing to think about the past- they had celebrated here and their last meeting, she could still see Hawke's pleading eyes.

"I have no choice Beck. But I promise you this, I will return to you, for you. Nothing will hold me back long."

She had been so naive. It was four years ago Becky thought bitterly. Her mother had died, the largest employer in town- the cannery- had shut down, resulting in job losses and business slow down all along the chain; from the docks to the tin sheet factory. Becky had opted to do her graduation by enrolling in a distance learning course. It was a quarter of the cost of full time college and she could stay to help out her father. Becky also loved the tug. Driving it was more relaxing than taxing.

Now she could see the grounded boat. It was no ship but a catamaran stuck on the Twins. Twins were a pair of grey pillars of sea pounded rock rising straight up about twenty apart. The waters were less than ten feet deep and if the high-tide was strong the Twins would be totally submerged. Becky used the radio but got no response. She used the binoculars but the boat looked deserted but on the shore somebody had jerry rigged white flag with SOS on it.

Becky dropped anchor and radioed her situation back to the shack and to the coast guard. She strapped on a life vest and operated the winch to lower the dinghy. She jumped into it and in minutes had reached the pebbled beach. Cursing the stupidity of the sailor who had abandoned the stuck boat, Becky marched toward the flag.

"Hello Beck."

It was Hawke. He looked older. A widows peak was forming, his face looked more serious. Though he was not as bulked up he was still muscular in lean no nonsense fashion. The tee shirt and rolled up jeans made him look like a model except for the scar near his left eye. The eye he had lost, the reason he had stopped playing, the reason he had lost the scholarship.

"You Bastard!" Becky ran towards him fists tightly closed. Hawke stood where he was and took the punches she rained on him.

"I am truly sorry."

"Sorry! Sorry doesn't mean crap. You did not call or reply. What do you want now?"

"The first months I had no job, it seemed awkward to call up and then I joined the merchant ship, the first voyage was hell. Beck, I never forgot you."

"Screw You!" Becky turned away and started to walk. Hawke caught her hand and stopped her.

"Please. You kept me going. I worked eighteen hours just to save enough to buy my own boat and come back to you. I know you don't trust me."

"Damn right!" Becky jerked her hand away and walked to the dinghy

"So let's start fresh." He ran ahead and smiled at her as he held down the dinghy for Becky to climb in.

"You Wish!" Becky said, not ready to give an inch.

"I am going to woo you again. I have been thinking about this you know. And I am not leaving, whatever your choice."

Becky reached her tug and locked the dinghy onto the winch ropes and climbed up. Angry, happy and disgusted all at the same time. She entered the cabin and saw the box of chocolates- Soft Centers- her favorite ones. How had he done that??

She allowed herself a small smile and her mood lightened. John was right- This was a real doozy.

THE CONTEST: https://steemit.com/wewrite/@freewritehouse/we-write-2-by-the-sea-last-week-s-winner-announced

PICTURE CREDIT: Pixabay.com