The Lost Children
Bonita woke up with an uncomfortable feeling of pressure on her neck. She lifted Ben Quigley's arm and shoved it away. He grunted and rolled over on his other side. She sat up on the side of the bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The alarm clock read 6:58. She had set it for seven. She shut it off and slapped Ben on the ass.
"Get the fuck up, bub. I got to get ready for work."
He muttered but did not move. Lola, who had been sleeping on the floor next to the bed, rose and dropped her head in Bonita's lap. Bonita nuzzled it and scratched the big dog's back. "How's my sweetie this morning?" she said.
Ben grunted again.
"I wasn't talking to you, dumbass," Bonita said. She got up, pulled a long t-shirt over her head and went to the bathroom. When she came back, Ben was still lying there. This is why I usually send guys home, she thought. Plus, they snore.
Lola jumped on the bed and barked. Ben came fully awake and sat back against the headboard with a startled expression on his face.
"Jeezum, Bonita, how come your dog don't like me?"
"I don't think she gives you much thought one way or another, except that you are sleeping in her spot."
"She's too big for such a small apartment."
"Dude, she's a newfie, they're wicked big dogs. Shit, she's not full grown yet. And besides, we don't spend much time here except to sleep."
"We done more than sleep," he said, grinning.
Bonita rolled her eyes. "Don't get all full of yourself," she said. She picked his shirt up off the floor and threw it at him. "Now, come on and get dressed. Don't you got to work?"
"Yeah, but they don't really care when I get there."
"Uh huh, lot of people say that just before they get shit canned," she replied. "Now get a move on."
Ben buttoned his shirt. "You know, Nita," he said, "just because your grandpa made you the boss at the wharf, that don't mean you're the boss of everybody."
"Yeah, well, as long as you want this pussy, I am the boss."
Once Ben had finally left, Bonita showered and dressed for the day. She put on her work boots and her leather jacket, snapped Lola's leash to her collar, and headed out the door and down the stairs.
It was a chilly spring morning. Wisps of fog hung low over the ground. She considered taking her motorcycle to the wharf, but she'd have to hook up the sidecar for Lola, so she decided she'd just walk. She preferred to walk anyway, especially after being cooped up all winter.
Maple Street was peaceful as they walked toward the center of town, until Lola broke the silence with a loud bark and strained at her leash.
"Quiet, girl, you'll wake up the whole neighborhood," Bonita admonished her. She saw the reason for the dog's excitement as a fat raccoon waddled across the lawn of First Baptist Church and scrambled up a tree.
They stopped at the utility pole on the corner of Maple and Wilson, so Lola could pee, then they continued down Wilson to Main Street. The fog grew denser as they walked toward the waterfront. Bonita tied Lola's leash to the lamppost in front of Jessica's Bakery and went inside. She saw that Jessica was busy in the back, so she waved hello, then went to the counter and bought a large coffee, a bear claw and a Boston cream doughnut.
She untied Lola, then took the bear claw from the bag and ate it as they made their way down to the wharf.
"Papa's already here," she said aloud when she saw Alvin's truck parked in front of the boathouse. Lola barked in response.
"Yeah, you like Papa, don't you? And I know why."
Alvin was sitting at his desk when Bonita stepped inside.
"Morning, Nita," he said, "and hello, Miss Lola." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a breakfast sausage wrapped in a paper napkin.
Bonita unclipped Lola's leash. The dog trotted over to Alvin and ate the sausage from his hand. He stoked her head, then looked up at Bonita. "It don't look like you brought me a coffee," he said.
"You know that Mama Mary told me not to. You ain't supposed to have caffeine, you'll get the chest pains again."
"That was damn near a year ago."
"Yeah, you put me in charge down here, then you scared the crap out of me. I thought you were going to leave me to run things all alone."
That makes us about even, Alvin thought, but he just ate his doughnut and shrugged. "I've been fine since."
"If you want decaf, I'll be happy to get you one."
Alvin shook his head. "Nothing is real nowdays. Cheese made out of soybeans, meat that's really vegetables, they even got butter now that's made out of bugs."
"That's a far ways from frickin' decaf, Papa," Bonita said, sitting at her desk and putting her feet up. "You plan on going down to Port Clyde this afternoon to pick up them engine parts?"
"Figured I would."
"Well, I know damn well that you're going to stop at McDonalds on your way out of town and get a Quarter Pounder and a honkin' big coffee, so I ain't going to feel too bad."
They spent the morning going over fuel contracts and reviewing applications for summer yard workers.
"What about those Quigley boys, they still around? " Alvin asked.
"Maybe Scott will be coming by. Ben is working construction with Miller and Sons now." She glanced up from her notepad and saw Alvin looking at her, his head tilted and one eyebrow cocked.
"What?" she asked.
He just shrugged and handed her the stack of applications.
"You make your picks and the ones you don't want, give to Rafael when he comes in next week. He might use some at the diner."
"Okay, Papa."
"I guess I'll head out and pick up them parts."
"Alright, Papa, have a nice drive." As he was stepping through the door, she added, "Enjoy your McDonalds."
She started to flip through the applications, then realized that she was hungry herself. She had left a bean burrito in the refrigerator the previous day. She got it out and put it in the microwave. While it was heating, she took Lola outside and tied her leash to one of the pilings along the edge of the wharf. She loved to lay there in the sun and watch the gulls and cormorants.
Bonita went back into the boathouse and was sitting with her feet on the desk, eating her burrito, when she caught a glimpse of a figure walking past the window. It was not unusual for folks to wander through the yard, looking at the boats or for a spot from which to take a picture of the harbor, but when she did not see anyone return, she grew curious. They were still two weeks away from opening for the season, but some people came around early, looking to rent a berth or make a reservation for later in the year.
She swallowed the last bite of her burrito and stepped outside.There was no one at the kayak rack or on the docks and for a minute she wondered if her eyes had played a trick on her. But then she saw Lola, standing at alert and staring past the corner of the boathouse.
"It's okay, pup," she said, and walked around the corner. She saw the visitor. SeaJay was up on stands at the far edge of the yard. The man stood at the stern, his back to Bonita. She watched as he raised his hand and laid it on the hull. He hung his head, giving her the impression that he was saying a prayer or administering some sort of blessing to the boat.
"Excuse me, bub," she called out as she stepped closer, "Something I can do for you?"
He turned and looked at her. He was much younger than she was expected, appearing to be about her own age. She did not recognize him, but he seemed familiar.
The young man stared at her and she saw that his eyes were wet and had a sunken, hollow look.
"Everything alright there, chummie?"
"Bonita?"
"Yeah...do I know you?"
"Oh my god, it's you."
Bonita took a step back, thinking there might be something seriously wrong with the stranger.
"You don't remember me."
"Should I?"
"I'm Jamie Mitchell."
It took a second for the name to register, but when it did, Bonita's mouth dropped open. She remembered the search for the missing boat, and the sudden storm and the the face of the boy, sobbing in terror as she had pulled him from the waves.
