John Casey - Compass Rose

Phoebe had called them in, bustled around to get everyone to sit down, cleared her throat, and said, “Whatever’s on the stove smells scrumptious, but let’s just start in with a few words about what’s going on.” And that was when she stopped right there and looked at May.

May felt a little updraft of nervousness through her arms and chest. She took a breath and froze. She’d been all of one piece just the other day, right here in her kitchen. She looked at Dick. He was frowning and staring at the table. She looked at Mr. Salviatti, who lifted his chin and tilted his head, which reminded her of the way he’d said, “Ah, how kind you are.” She said, “Kind. You’re kind to come.” And then what? Now the problem was she didn’t feel right crying her troubles out loud. She closed her eyes and smoothed her apron. She was startled that she still had it on, ought to have taken it off before they came. That distracted her enough so that she said, “What is going on is pretty much a mystery to me. Phoebe explained some of it, the law about taking land, but I can’t say that I can recite chapter and verse. And it’s a mystery to me how all of a sudden Mr. Aldrich’s changed. He was perfectly polite and friendly the one time he came by. So I just don’t know.”

Phoebe patted her arm. What was Phoebe thinking she needed to be patted for? She’d made a fool of herself there at the beginning, that car and chauffeur set her on edge was all, she didn’t need patting in front of everyone — that just made it worse.

Phoebe said, “Well, that’s the question in a general way, but before we get to the more technical side — I have a little outline I went over with my lawyer — I’d like to color in the human side. Even my lawyerlike lawyer—” She gave a little trill of laughter. “Even my lawyer got emotional. So where we start is that May and Dick have lived here on Pierce Creek for years — the name tells you something right there. And Dick and Eddie built this house, May raised her two sons, and Dick and Eddie rebuilt the house after the hurricane. I mean, talk about sweat equity. And May has cultivated the—”

May stood up when she heard a car pull in the driveway. Thank goodness for something to put a stop to Phoebe making them into a charity case.

Rose and Elsie.

Rose said, “I’m sorry, May. Mom had a little accident. We’ll just sit down over there.”

May saw the gauze pad on Elsie’s cheek, a blotch of red showing through. She said, “Looks like it’s still bleeding. Come over to the sink.” She got the first-aid kit. When she peeled the gauze pad off she said, “Oh, my. Dick, you ought to take a look.”

Dick rolled up his sleeves, washed his hands, and held them up. He nodded to May to pull a fresh paper towel. Elsie laughed and said, “I’m not a doctor, but I play one on TV.”

“He’s handy at this,” May said. “He’s always patching up his crew.”

Elsie said to Dick, “I’m glad your hand is better. No nerve damage?”

“Nope. Hold still.” He held Elsie’s chin. “Might need a couple of stitches; you don’t want a scar. I’m going to put a butterfly on, just to hold that flap. What was it did that? Looks like it tore more than sliced.”

“A stick.”

“You wash it out with anything?”

“Soap and water.”

“Wood’s dirtier than a knife. Not as bad as a fish spine, but still … I’m going to pour something in. Might sting.” He turned his head and said, “You go on with your talk. We can hear.”

May sat back down. She said to Phoebe, “Maybe you could get to the lawyer part.”

Phoebe clapped her hands and said, “I know, I know. But this is the crux of the matter, and it takes some concentration. I’ve made copies. The law part is page one; page two is some ideas about what I call ‘political pressure points.’ Take two sheets and pass them on.”

The fuss of passing the papers around got everyone to turn their attention back to the table. May folded her hands in her lap and looked at each face in turn. They all knew the story. She’d asked Dick to tend to Elsie. They all heard that. They could all see that she let things be.

Phoebe was lecturing briskly, not interrupting herself. May was glad to see Charlie and Tom paying attention.

May stole a glance at Dick. He was touching Elsie’s cheek, the tip of his thumb under the cut, his fingers above it. He put the butterfly bandage across it, fastened a gauze pad over the cut. May touched her own cheek. Dick gave Elsie his seat at the table. He got a small bench from the back porch, and he and Rose sat side by side, as if May had arranged that, too. Let them all see Rose was at home here. Phoebe told everyone to turn to page two. May looked at them all turning their pages and thought of them all at once, all of them cross-stitched to one another. May was grateful, after all, for Phoebe and her notes … And wasn’t it just like Elsie to come tumbling in like that? Time to get back to the business of the house. May was content that people showed up to help. She’d been shy about speaking up but quick enough about getting Dick to bandage Elsie’s face. If May’s feelings had been completely pleasurable she would have mistrusted them.

When Phoebe was done, she turned to May and said, “Let’s have that lovely chowder and then we’ll see where we are.”

Dick said to Elsie, “You better not chew till you get that sewed up.”

Tom offered to drive her to the hospital. Mr. Salviatti said, “Tom, you should stay. My driver’s here.” He held Elsie’s elbow and led her out. He held the car door open but didn’t close it. He said to the driver, “This lady is going to the hospital. Wait and bring her back, please.” He said to Elsie, “Everyone will still be talking. I’ll listen to everyone, but you and I know Jack. When he wants something he won’t stop. If he’s blocked one way, he’ll find another and another and another. Even if all the people in there get a hundred names, two hundred names, on a petition, he can find more. He lines up piece after piece. He’s holding a fund-raiser at Sawtooth for Mr. Bienvenue. He can fire Mary Scanlon. He can find someone other than Eddie to work on Sawtooth. Even you — your contract with the school is for only one year. When the bank learned that Dick lost his boat, they were worried that he couldn’t make his payments on his mortgage. Since the bank was worried in that way that banks worry, Jack was there. He has a company that bought the mortgage for eighty cents on the dollar. So that is Jack the octopus. But he has from time to time another side — a desire to be the prince, to be seen as just and generous. So after he has shown that he can squeeze everyone, perhaps he will let go for a moment. Do you remember when he bought Mary Scanlon’s restaurant? He felt no pain at paying a little too much. But he also offered her a job. I doubt that she would have sold unless she could keep doing what she loves and does well.”

“How do you know all this? About Dick’s mortgage?”

“Because Jack has a notion that I am a clever man, he wanted me to see how clever he is. If this were a game of chess, one would say that he controls the board.”

“So what are you saying? We should give up?”

“No.” Mr. Salviatti gestured toward the house. “All this resistance will make him angry at first but then perhaps stimulate his imagination. A basic principle of negotiation is to imagine things that the other side wants that are not so dear to oneself. His offer of a little house in Snug Harbor is an overture of that kind. Phoebe has told me about Mrs. Pierce’s garden, and I have just seen it. The Sawtooth corporation owns some pieces of land not so far away. There may be a possibility there for something that will make Mrs. Pierce happier. Believe me, if I were an equal partner I would put a stop to this. As it is, I can only suggest ways to discourage the octopus and encourage the king’s largesse. Jack has very little regard for the people in there. But he esteems me.” Mr. Salviatti cocked his head and lifted a hand as if to say, “Who knows why, but there it is. And, of course, you. It is possible that in front of you and me, and perhaps Mr. Bienvenue, Jack will not wish to … There is an Italian phrase, fare una brutta figura , to make an ugly face — but it means much more.” Mr. Salviatti abruptly leaned back and put his palm on his chest. “But I am keeping you from caring for your wound.”