John Casey - Compass Rose

“No, they really did. I wasn’t flirting with them, either. It was winter, and I was wearing so many clothes I looked like the Michelin tire man.”

“No, it’s not that.”

“It’s that I’m annoying you. I should get on home. It’s still a ride to Narragansett.”

“I’ll give you a lift — I have a bike rack. Drink your juice and relax a little.”

That was enough. Deirdre walked around silently, looking at Elsie’s bookshelf. After a while Deirdre said, “Thoreau. You’ve got a lot of Thoreau. Have you ever wondered what he sounded like? I’ve tried to imagine his voice. It’s kind of sad that voices disappear. I love the Maine accent. When I was alone in my cabin for a long while I’d start hearing one of the old guys from the general store, the one I liked the most. It was like he was there. You know how you get when you’re living by yourself. One time I was splitting wood for kindling, I was holding the log with one hand round it and swinging the ax with the other. His voice said, ‘Not so fast, they-ah, young lady. You might just want that thumb late-ah on.’ ” Deirdre laughed. Elsie was struck dumb. Deirdre said, “I thought what he said was pretty funny. Right, too. Next time I saw him, I told him what he’d said. He laughed at my version of a down east accent; he said it would take me a few years to get it right. It’s just right for setting someone straight. I hope it doesn’t die out. Children don’t talk the way their parents do. Maybe it’s TV. But Charlie didn’t watch TV, and he has less of a Yankee accent than Dick and May.”

“Wait,” Elsie said. “Did Charlie say anything about the play? About the way Rose talked when she was pretending to be the maid? When she said, ‘I’m smaht enough to know the fu-cha you have in mind.’ ”

“Oh.” Deirdre squinted. “No. Not about that. Of course, I didn’t go backstage with him, so they might have talked about it then. I don’t think so, though, because he told me pretty much everything. Someone said Mary Scanlon taught Rose how to sing, and Tom said that he’d taught her how to be funny. Charlie thought that was a laugh. Charlie hadn’t ever heard Rose sing. He missed Miss Perry’s funeral, and he didn’t go to Sylvia Teixeira’s wedding — which he should have, it might have helped him see that people can just move on.”

“That’s it?”

“About the play. But one thing Charlie really liked was when the old guy, the actor with white hair … when he came over he said, ‘These are your proud parents,’ and Rose said, ‘And this is my father, Dick Pierce. His wife, May. And these are my brothers, Charlie and Tom.’ It wasn’t just that she handled it. All the other kids from the play were just running around, making a fuss over themselves, and there Rose was … Charlie really liked her saying, ‘These are my brothers, Charlie and Tom.’ ”

Elsie resisted imagining the sound of Rose’s voice, resisted imagining Rose’s state of mind when she’d grabbed her in the parking lot. She dug in harder — her argument might have been wrong, but she was right to worry. She thought of Rose’s saying, “If I can’t find a spare bed, I’ll sleep on the floor”—pathetic teenage self-pity. Then Elsie gave way. Rose had said, “This is my father … These are my brothers,” when Rose was the center of attention.

She’d been horrible to Rose.

May was just finishing ironing when the phone rang. She said, “Hello?” There was a pause. A women’s voice said, “Mrs. Pierce? Please hold, I have Mr. Aldrich on the line for you.” Another pause and she heard a booming voice. “Hello, May! Sorry about that. I’ve got people running in and out. This is Jack Aldrich.”

“Hello, Mr. Aldrich.”

“Jack, please. I saw you were at Rose’s play — wasn’t she great? I knew she had a voice, but what stage presence. We couldn’t have guessed, could we? It seems like yesterday she was a little girl. Look, I’m sure you’ve got lots to do. So I’ll get to what’s on my mind. I want to apologize. I’ve been remiss about being a good neighbor. I’ve been thinking about how many ties we already have. I guess you must have heard from Rose that I’m going to put her play on over here.” May wondered how Mr. Aldrich knew about her and Rose. It could be Phoebe’d been a chatterbox. She hoped Mr. Aldrich wouldn’t go on about that. “And your boy Tom,” he said. “I can’t say enough about him. Great job building the new dock. More than building — he’s got good ideas about our whole waterfront. I could see a future for him here at Sawtooth. I know he works for Eddie Wormsley, but one of these days he may want to be part of something bigger. I like the cut of his jib.” May supposed she ought to say something, but she was still nervous and bothered by Mr. Aldrich’s trying to sound like an old salt. Mr. Aldrich kept right on; she didn’t have time to say thank you. “There are all sorts of ways we can get together. One thing just occurred to me. What if I bought a little easement from you, just to put a footbridge across Pierce Creek so a few of our Sawtooth nature lovers could get across to the nature sanctuary? Way down at the tail end of your three acres. I don’t think you’d even see it. If Dick is changing over from the red-crab fishery and getting back to lobstering, there might be a readjustment period, and a healthy payment for an easement might bridge the gap. More than bridge the gap.”

“Dick’s at sea.”

“Yes, I understand that. I’m looking forward to talking to him, too. I just want to give you time to give it some thought on your own. You could talk to Eddie Wormsley — he’d be the one to build the bridge — and Eddie could tell you he and I work things out fair and square, like old shipmates.”

There he went again. But what bothered her more was his saying he and Eddie work things out fair and square, and not a minute before he’d been talking about hiring Tom away from Eddie. She said, “Eddie is Dick’s oldest friend. He put us up after our house got knocked in.”

“Yes, indeed. Eddie is the salt of the earth. I loved my cousin Lydia, but I’m afraid one of her few faults was that she was unfair to Eddie.” It took May a second to realize he was talking about Miss Perry. Another second to realize he’d heard what she said about Eddie but that he didn’t understand it. He swept on. “Of course, to her credit Lydia held Dick in high regard, and Charlie and Tom were great favorites of hers, too. She was a model of how fortunate people help out …”

May heard the unspoken “those less fortunate.” That bothered her. But there always seemed to be two things to be bothered about in every breath this man took in and let out. The second thing this time was that in his hearty speechifying voice he was talking about the biggest things in her life. It was like being hugged by someone you didn’t know.

“I’m sure you’ve got things to do, so I won’t keep you. I’m glad we had this talk. Oh. I’ll be sending over a couple of guest passes to Sawtooth. They’re good for everything, including Rose’s play. I know you saw it at the school, but this promises to be even better, something all of us South County folks will be proud of. Best to Dick when he comes in. I’m glad we had this little chat.”

What on earth?

The call had made her so nervous she had a shaky time getting Rose’s uniform onto the hanger. She’d said hello to Sally now and then, but she didn’t believe she and Jack Aldrich had said ten words to each other in as many years.

She drank a glass of water and was able to iron the maid’s cap with its two long ribbons. She called Phoebe, got the answering machine at the office. Mary Scanlon was likely over in the Sawtooth kitchen, not a good time to bother her.