Moon's Embrace

By Sparkie Allison

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2009 Sparkie Allison
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4490-1515-2

Chapter One

There's just no easy way to say it. He dumped her. Plain and simple. Boys and their toys, as they say. His mother told her it would happen but yes, love is blind and deaf. Bea had her eye on the big guy since high school. He was a big guy then but more of a lady's man. After his four year stint in the Navy he evolved into an even bigger guy with a paunch that entered the room two minutes before he did. What's there to say? He learned transferable skills in the Navy. He could now command a ship and drink lots of beer. That got him the admiration of his buddies because Mother Dutram ran the family with an iron fist when he was growing up. He towed the line and never once slacked off for fear of her wrath. Her punishments were more brutal than his father's. In a town the size of Teabag you couldn't get away with much. It's not like he was completely out from under Mother's watchful eye but he was far enough away that she couldn't see how far he's slipped from the overly responsible son to a playboy with expensive play toys. He loved his boats more than anything except for Bea. In 1978, he professed her love for her in front of the entire town.

Both Bea and Big Guy were 24-years-old, wild and restless when they tied the knot on the town common. The entire town, a whopping population of 342 people, attended the ceremony and reception at the Farina Marina on Lake Windsor. Aside from the Dutram Tavern, the Marina was the only other dining establishment large enough for the town party.

Of course, if the sun was shining the town common was a great place to lay out a spread and a few kegs but the day they married a snow storm snuck across the Catskill Mountains and blanketed the entire county with about eighteen inches of heavy snow. Big Guy's best friend, Handsome Cal, had a construction company and brought out the plow and the bucket loader to clear the way for the celebration to go on despite the weather. Handsome Cal cleared the main road and the entrance to the marina, plowing the snow into a large mound on the marina boat ramp while the kids busied themselves building a mountainous snow fort that he later plowed right into the lake.

Twenty-eight years later townsfolk still remember the day the bride and groom climbed to the top of the snow fort to pose for pictures before throwing snowballs at the guests. They looked like the statues on their cake until they returned to the dining hall caked themselves with snow from an illustrious jocular battle with the wedding guests. Bea lost both of her shoes in the mound of snow and Big Guy had to be extra careful carrying her back inside since her wedding gown was frozen. Her bridesmaid, Lola, had to thaw the wedding dress with a hand-held hairdryer so it could be removed without tearing or breaking off the fine lace. The dress had once belonged to Bea's grandmother. Thankfully Grandma Jenkins wasn't there to see the frozen satin and lace.

Over the years Bea and Big Guy tried to be wild and impetuous but with so few opportunities in the area, they dutifully took over the family businesses. Big Guy worked the three hundred acre Turkey Hills Farm his grandfather left him while Bea took over the operation of the one hundred-forty-seven year old Dutram Tavern with Mother Dutram's lead in the hearth cooking.

As the years went by Big Guy started buying old boats, restoring them on the weekends. They'd take them to the antique boat shows and make a nice profit to sock away in a retirement account. If they were ever going to live like the people they saw on television they would have to move closer to the city or be creative.

The local folks will swear that there is much more beauty, history and lure to New York State than just the Big Apple. Upstate is such a large, rural area and the Catskill Mountains cover over six counties, more than 6,000 square miles of rich farmland and forested hills. Aside from the Hassidic Bungalow communities, it has become a retreat area for the rich and famous as well as those who truly love exploring the mountains, caves, biking, camping and fishing as well as a host of winter recreational activities for those who can withstand the hearty near-freezing days and below-freezing nights. The grip of winter can hold steady for at least four unforgiving months. Fortunately this year it eased up a few weeks early from a mild winter. Although Spring was officially announcing itself on the calendar, the valley temperatures were still below freezing at night. New England was already in bloom according to the national newscast on cable television. Sunny Hudson Valley was just beginning to thaw, teasing residents with a glimpse of brown lawns, barren fields and the urge to get back out on Lake Windsor. Bea and Big Guy had uncovered their 58 foot McKinna Motor Yacht and were in the processing of checking out how it held up from the brutal winter ice and wind.

This boat was one of three that Big Guy owned. He loved being out on the water as much as he loved farming the land that had been owned by his family for over 200 years. As the oldest child and only son he had inherited everything. It was all he ever knew until he returned from the Navy in 1975 and brought with him a new found love of the water. Over the years he stuffed away as much savings from the crops as they could afford and starting buying old beat up boats to repair. He purchased bigger and better boats until he amassed a collection for use on the lake nearby. They'd take them to the boat shows where they'd sell them and make a nice profit to sock away into a retirement account.

The Pilothouse McKinna Yacht was one of his favorites. The largest of his fleet, it stretched 58 feet with a seventeen foot-three inch beam. Not a trawler, this yacht could hum at 24 knots. The Caterpillar T-800 HP engine quite simply purred from all of the care and attention that Big Guy put into it. Given that Lake Windsor is nearly 70 square miles, the McKinna would have plenty of room to roar without having to be trailered to the ocean where it would certainly enjoy less confinement than the lake. The 32' Tiara was much slower but still quite the weekend toy until he could find a buyer. He held a special spot in his heart for his restoration of a 1962 Century Resorter, an antique wooden boat with the V8 engine in the center covered by a box.

Of the many boats that Big Guy restored and sold, he was particularly fond of the 1958 18-foot Chris Craft Riviera. All of the wood was original and the 120HP "KLC" engine was rebuilt by one of his Navy buddies who had worked on ship engines. He sold the boat at a hefty profit along with two others he had poured time and sweat into. It afforded him the opportunity to buy the $1.3 million McKinna, a boat he would never have thought to purchase until he and Bea were invited for a weekend trip up the Hudson River with the original owners. It only took one weekend for Bea to insist they find a way to purchase it for use on Lake Windsor. She rarely insisted on such expensive purchases and Big Guy was only too willing to make her happy. He was pleased with himself for negotiating the $850,000 price but he still had to take out a loan for the balance. It would take quite a few more restored boats to pay off this toy.

Bea made the rounds starting with checking the roomy salon near the aft deck. She loved to sit on the leather sofas and admire the handcrafted teak woodwork. Unlike her pre-Civil War era tavern, which she now called home, with many of the original furnishings and fixtures, this wood was rich and modern. It was a cozy spot for after dinner relaxation. The Big Guy had wanted to install a plasma television but Bea insisted they limit the modern amenities so as to enhance the opportunity for more personal communications whether it was just the two of them or an intimate dinner party. After all, when you're in a million dollar boat you want more enrichment than lounging back watching the boob-tube, as she referred to it.

Big Guy crossed the deck and gave Bea a long, opulent kiss. He wrapped his massive arms around her and hugged gently. At six-feet-four inches and two hundred-seventy-five pounds he towered over her. His paunch cushioned her slight frame. After all these years together, they were still like high school sweethearts. Every one was surprised when the marina dock crew had to fish Bea out of the lake. You know you're in trouble when you dump your wife in the lake because you're too busy playing with a new toy to pay attention. Big Guy was so focused on logging every detail of the dial and gauges, something he learned in the military, that he didn't see that Bea was standing on the aft deck platform when the engine roared. Zoie and Pepper, their two poodle companions, gave approving barks and waited for Bea to bring them into their custom-made seats at the helm when suddenly the boat pulled away from the dock and headed northward to deeper water. Bea hadn't noticed that the one long blast was from the McKinna.

Bea had only enough time to yell "hey" before plunging into the chilly lake water. The McKinna veered starboard and to round the edge of Brewster Peer towards the marina's lunch deck to wave goodbye to on lookers. Zoie and Pepper lunged into the lake after Bea and squealed as they hit the frigid water. Their yelps caught the attention of a lone fisherman readying his bass boat. He dropped the bucket, grabbed for his life jacket and gave two tugs to start the motor. As he eased out of his slip he called out to Bea.

"Hang on. I'm coming for ya." His voice strained to be heard over the motor. Bea gulped and spit and shook her head as she turned around hoping to see the McKinna Lady Bea nearby. At five foot-eight inches tall and ninety-eight pounds, Bea never had any body fat to obsess about. The bad part of that was that she lacked bouncy. She tread water and gasped for Big Guy. The water was bitter cold, too soon in the season for a swim. No sooner did she say to herself that she thought she saw something shiny on the harbor floor than she saw the two dogs eagerly paddling towards her.

"Ooh, the water is so cold. Paddle. Paddle fast." Pepper's paws splashed the water frantically.

"Brrrrr" Pepper mumbled. "Why did mom pick today to go for a swim."

"I don't know, Pep. Humans do strange things we'll never understand."

"Zoie! Pepper! Oh, you should not have jumped," she exclaimed, wiping water from her face and pushing her hair away from her eyes. "I wish Big Guy had jumped. Wait 'till I get a hold of him." She filled her lungs with air just before submerging into the cold darkness a fourth time.

The dogs reached her with enthusiasm, swimming around her and trying to climb atop her as she held out her arms. Big Guy had no idea that Bea and the dogs were overboard until he passed the marina dining deck. Fred waved frantically at him to look behind. He turned and looked around the helm and noticed that Bea was not with him. Neither of the dogs were in their favorite cruise beds either. He lifted his favorite white boating hat and scratched the little tuft of hair, replaced the cap and picked up the intercom mike to call to the galley.

No answer. Big Guy furrowed his brow and wondered where his wife was hiding. His slowed the engine and checked for a port turn. Bringing the boat about he scanned the water and called to Zoie and Pepper. No response. He turned the dial and called to the master stateroom thinking she must still be taking stock of supplies. The line remained quiet. As he edged towards the dock he saw the fisherman helping Bea and the dogs onto the deck. As they were shaking themselves off, he sounded three short blasts of the horn and eased the boat back into the slip.

By the time Big Guy secured the boat and set foot on the dock Bea and the dogs were blasting into him for not waiting for them to come up to the helm before he shoved off. Spectators gathered from the marina dining area and someone rang the large brass ship bell on the walkway near the marina bulletin board. It was used only for an emergency to call for aid from anyone within earshot.

Before he could ask what happened Bea was hollering. "You dumped me, you big lug." Her hair was spiked and sticking out in all directions as she tried to shake the water out while stomping on the dock. "What were you thinking?" she inquired not waiting for a response.

By now the crowd was moving in and laughing at the scene. Zoie and Pepper barked louder, stopped to shake off the water again and jumped up and down in front of Big Guy to get his attention. Thankfully no one was injured although if they had to stay in that 45 degree water for too long they would be rushing to the Valley Hospital over an hour away with hypothermia. Bea was in constant motion between shaking off the water, checking the two soaked dogs who were jumping up and yelping uncontrollably and pacing the four foot area of the dock where Big Guy stood silently just watching the woman he loves ranting and raving about a dip in the lake. She was so slender that there wasn't any body fat on her to insulate her from the cold, he thought.

"Let me get you a towel, sweetie," he said.

When she finally stopped babbling she grabbed her hips and looked up at him squarely in the eye and asked the kind of question men hate to answer. The wrong answer could backfire. The right answer could cost him time with his new toy.

"You dumped me," she stated firmly. "Is that boat more important to you than me and the girls?"

Chapter Two

Lake Windsor was the heart of the lower Catskill region. It was the largest body of water in state outside of the combined Finger Lakes and the only lake that could really give the Big Guy's McKinna the breathing room it needed to show it's ease in handling. While the Finger Lakes Region boasted being the recreational mecca of the upstate area, Lake Windsor offered relative quiet except for the summer traffic and fishing tournaments for bass, trout and walleye. The neighboring farms and small towns appreciated the limited two months of increased traffic and income to the local economy. Two more months before the bungalow communities moved in for the summer.

Big Guy had moved the boat forward on the slip so that the diver could move unhindered. There were few people gathered near the boat as they tried to keep the exploration a secret. Bea had found something when she fell in yesterday but she wasn't sure what it was. One phone call to Handsome Cal and he donned a wet suit to search further. He surfaced with splash and called out.

"It's a crusty old metal box, maybe a small lock box but it's stuck in the mud and silt. I can't find any identification on it. No idea who long it's been there but there is nothing to grab hold of."

With a quick, effortless lift Big Guy moved Bea from the edge of the dock, a sign that he didn't want her to fall in again. One night of sleeping on the couch was enough for him and he had a lot of making up to do for letting his wife fall into the lake. He threw the chain to Handsome Cal. "See if you can hook this on it somehow and then when it's free wrap the chain around it and we'll pull when you're ready. Give me a signal."

They waited patiently. Every minute seemed to lengthen the suspense and wonder if Bea discovered a treasure. Lake Windsor was ancient, formed by glacial pot holes. In fact, it was the only lake outside of New England to be identified as part of the glacial formations 10,000 years ago but it wasn't connected to any rivers that could have served commercial trade or pirating operations.

The seaweed encrusted sentry box broke the surface and Big Guy and Fred pulled simultaneously. The box slammed into the side of the dock. The chain creaked across the weathered wood and clanged as they set it down. One handle was broken and the other stuck to the side of the box. Bea rushed forward to inspect her prize. She slipped the chain off and turned the box over a few times in search of identification. A metal engraving was partially visible through the attached scales.

"So, what do you have there sweetie?, Big Guy asked.

"Well, this is what I saw yesterday while you were sailing off alone and I was diving for buried treasure. The only markings are partially covered. I need a knife to scrape this."

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his amber bone pocket-knife, opened the blade and inspected it. He had this knife since he was a kid. It was a gift from his grandfather on his first fishing trip. He held it out by the handle with a warning. "Be careful. I just sharpened it two days ago."

(Continues...)

Excerpted from Moon's Embraceby Sparkie Allison Copyright © 2009 by Sparkie Allison. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.