John Casey - Compass Rose

“There. I knew it.”

“But then I thought of how it must’ve hurt and I lost what we were talking about. I was getting angry at this guy for hurting you.”

Elsie said, “Oh,” and her hand flew to her collarbone.

She thought, There are people out there who can meet someone and not think of possibilities. She wasn’t one of them.

Johnny said, “You’re smart and you’ve got a lot of imagination, but I want to be sure you know what you’re doing. You’d be giving up a lot of damages, not just medical bills and pain and suffering, there’s punitive damages …”

“I have medical insurance with my job. I’ve told you what I want.”

“Okay. Here’s what I can say to the guy’s lawyer — she doesn’t want money, and that’s a damn good deal. All she wants is for this guy to come to me and promise to give up hunting.”

“You? He’ll promise you? ”

“Yes, me. His lawyer says the guy is one of us. It’ll turn out I know the guy, probably some of his family, his friends, his priest. If he breaks his promise he might or might not feel guilty, but he’ll be shamed. And his lawyer’ll be shamed, and I’ll be shamed. Shame is a group thing. When a group mistrusts the outside, they have to trust the inside.”

“So you are like a godfather.”

“Oh come on,” Johnny said. “This isn’t some Hollywood movie. I’m more like a switchboard operator. If I made a nickel out of this, it wouldn’t work. You think about it, see if you think it gets you what you want. What I’ll think about is how to tell the lawyer and the guy about you. How come you gave up the money part. I guess I’ll say nature is like a religion with you; the Great Swamp preserve is like your church. So you’re like a really strict nun.”

Elsie laughed.

He said, “The reason you laugh is you didn’t get taught by nuns. I say ‘nun,’ it’ll make him think about when he was in fourth grade and got caught doing something bad. Sister Margaret Mary with a ruler.”

“Is that right? Is that what ‘nun’ makes you think of?”

“Yeah, sometimes.” He looked at her so intently she wondered if he was going to kiss her. He said, “It’s funny. What you know and what you don’t know.”

She took a step back. “When you say ‘you,’ do you mean people in general? Or do you mean me, the ignorant girl who hasn’t had the benefit of Catholic schooling?”

“I just meant—”

“I guess I missed out on those thrilling punishments at the hands of Sister Margaret Mary Dominatrix.”

“You know, you’re right about one thing — you’re probably better off not going in front of a judge and jury. At least, not in Rhode Island.” Before she thought of anything to say to that, he said, “Okay. Let’s not … Probably my fault. Look — first time we met you gave me a few jabs, but there you were taking care of Miss Perry, and when we talked about her giving her books away, you cried. And just now I wasn’t sure — you got in a couple more jabs. But when you said, ‘I’ll be fine. I’m not the point,’ I got it. I admire how you care for Miss Perry and the way you’re a purist about your job. So think about what you want me to do, and let me know.”

“Do it.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. I’ll get you what you want.”

“Maybe one more thing. How about you bring me his trigger finger? The first two knuckles.”

Johnny squinted. “How come you got to get in a shock? Does it make you nervous when someone says they admire you?”

The last question stopped her. It was a relief to be stopped. Miss Perry stopped her. Sometimes Mary Scanlon stopped her. Dick used to stop her. She said out loud, “One of these days I’ll get around to stopping myself.”

Johnny looked abashed. He probably took what she said for an apology. They both started to say something, then held back so that all that came out were their puffs of breath that turned white and floated away.

She said, “You go first.”

“I shouldn’t have—”

“No. It’s okay.”

“You got a right to be angry.”

“I think I was trying to be funny.”

“Ah.”

She hoped he wouldn’t say anything else, and was pleased that he didn’t, pleased that he held out his hand for the big step onto the bank, held on to help her up the slope, and let go at the top.

After he left she worried that she’d made his awkward situation more awkward, worried about his getting involved with Jack. She supposed that that’s what it took to run for office … to have to go to people like Jack with your hat in your hand. She’d ignored politics because she thought that politicians were putting on an act, and not a very interesting one. She didn’t think much of lawyers, either, but here she was worrying about someone who was both, worried at first that he might be too much of a backroom guy, now worried that he might be too decent for the likes of Jack.

It surprised her that she was worrying about Johnny Bienvenue. She was naturally pleased that an interesting man had shown up, and happy that she’d poked at him and he’d poked back and that he’d then startled her with plain, fierce sympathy. But she was also surprised that it somehow all felt slow. Because there was something to settle? Because she was still a little gimpy?

She reached into Rose’s playpen to pick up a bottle. A twinge. A while before she’d be ready for their tennis lesson. No rush. Enough that she could look forward to his attention, to his attentive curiosity about her. And she looked forward to her attentive curiosity about him. The sort of considered courtship Sally had given up wishing for her.

Tom had always been the cutup of the family. After Christmas dinner he said, “So where is everybody?”

It startled May. She hadn’t noticed they’d all been quiet. Tom said, “Okay, Dad’s looking out the window at the weather. No surprise there. Charlie’s daydreaming about his girlfriend. So where are you, Mom?”

She might have just waved Tom off, but he’d got everyone’s attention. She tried to think of something other than Rose. She said, “I was just thinking how peaceful it is for a change.”

Tom tilted his head back, about to say more, but Dick turned toward him and said, “Don’t be a smart-ass with your mother.” He said it mildly. May’d been afraid Dick was going to start up with Tom. She was relieved, then touched. She squinted and said, “Oh, Tom didn’t mean anything.”

Dick and Charlie both looked at her, Dick from far away, the table’s length like a stretch of water between them.

Charlie said, “That’s right.” May saw him trying to come up with a smart remark. “He’d like to mean something …”

Before Tom could cut back in, May said, “We should have asked Eddie to eat with us.”

“I figured he’d be doing something with Phoebe,” Dick said.

“No. She’s gone skiing with her daughter. But maybe Walt’s with him.”

“Walt,” Dick said, and shook his head. “Phoebe. Poor Eddie. A motorcycle bum for a son and a la-di-da girlfriend. He can’t tell if he’s coming or going.”

“Phoebe’s been good about his business,” May said.

“The better things go for his business, the more Phoebe and Walt have to fight over. It’s not like Walt’s decided to settle down. The only reason he shows up when he does is to keep his hand in. He knows Eddie’s soft on the idea of Wormsley and Son. And Phoebe’s chewing on the other side of him.”

“Scylla and Charybdis,” Charlie said. Dick looked at him. May was startled that the boys were paying such close attention. Charlie said, “It’s from the Bulfinch’s mythology Miss Perry read to us.”