John Casey - Spartina

All three of these women now made him think of the flaws in his life, how it could check and split. Anger, envy, and regret. All of them bitter to his own taste. He didn’t want them. Anger at home, regret toward the Point, envy up toward the hills where the big houses sat overlooking the hard little enterprises at sea level.

May brought in Tom’s cake. “Hurray!” Miss Perry cried, to make up for Tom’s cake coming in second, and then she started them singing again.

When Miss Perry and Elsie left and May and the boys went to the movies in Wakefield, Dick headed for the Neptune. It had been such a nice day for the women and children, he decided he’d better move away from them.

O n the afternoon Dick was set to go out again with Parker, Joxer phoned. His voice on the phone was as big and booming as if he was shouting across the water.

Joxer had an hour to spare, thought it might be a good time to come look at Dick’s boat. Dick held Joxer off a little, saying to Joxer that he was just loading bait barrels onto the pickup, but he supposed they might as well take the time now.

Joxer showed up in ten minutes. Dick popped a couple of beers for them and took Joxer to the shed.

Joxer walked around the boat once. Climbed the ladder over the side and lowered himself into the hold. Walked carefully along the keelson. Picked up a corner of the greasy tarp and looked at the diesel engine.

Put his glasses on to read the specs on the engine.

He and Dick climbed out, picked up their beers off the table saw.

Joxer said, “It’s awfully hot in here. Let’s step outside. Do you have the plans?”

Dick wiped his hands and gathered up the plans. His hands were shaking. Joxer held the front tarp for him, and they went to the front parlor and sat. Dick pointed to the lowest shelf of the bookcase. “I got an article on this type of boat, and the Cummins manual.”

Joxer put his reading glasses on and skimmed the article from the National Fisherman. “Yes,” he said, “I remember this. I thought of having the yard build one for my company. But then Captain Texeira said he’d go out for red crabs and …”

Dick said, “I hear Captain Texeira’s retiring again.”

“Semi-retiring,” Joxer said, “but both his boats are still going out for me.”

Dick took a sip of beer.

Joxer said, “This is going to be your boat, right? You’re in alone, not partners with Larry Parker or anyone?”

“Just me,” Dick said. “I’ve had some help from Eddie Wormsley and Charlie. I owe about half on the engine to the Cummins dealer. No bank loans. It’s all my boat.”

“No bank loans?” Joxer said. “You’ve tried a bank or two, have you?”

Dick thought, Here we go again. He felt an old anger run down its old tracks, and an odd momentary spurt of not giving a damn. The two cross feelings seemed to steady him. He said, “You know banks aren’t interested in unfinished boats. Leastways if it’s not a yacht. They don’t want to know what I got out there. Could be a hole in the ground so far as they see. The point is, you’ve had a look at her.”

Joxer tucked his reading glasses in his shirt pocket and stretched his legs out. “That’s right, I’ve seen her. She’s a little short, but she’s deep and beamy. Good design, good materials. And your work is first-class. It is just plain first-rate.”

Dick nodded and kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want to get excited.

Joxer said, “There’s still some work to do, and I guess you need a lot of equipment — hauling gear and whatnot. I don’t want to presume, but could I ask … I mean, you don’t need me to tell you what you’ve done so far is good work. So what do you want?”

Dick took his time. Joxer crossed his legs, folded his hands around his knee, and fixed his eyes on his thumbs. Dick was grateful for his keeping still.

Dick heard himself get it out. “What I want … is for you … to lend me enough money to finish her.”

Joxer nodded and said, “Uh huh, and how much do you figure that will be?”

“Ten thousand dollars.”

“Uh huh, and how would the loan be secured?”

Jesus, Dick thought, he didn’t say no.

“The boat,” Dick said. “She’s worth at least ten times that right now.”

“If it were up to me,” Joxer said, “that might be okay. But I have some shareholders. An unfinished boat isn’t readily marketable. What about your land?”

“It’s already mortgaged. The second mortgage is how I got this far with the boat.”

Joxer didn’t say anything. Dick said, “My skiff and outboard are worth four thousand. There’s half of it.”

Joxer said, “We could only use half the value as collateral. It’s a tough rule, but it’s accepted practice.”

Dick said, “There’s the boys’ twelve-foot skiff.” He wished he’d kept his mouth shut.

Joxer said, “There is another way. If you could get someone with pretty ready assets to cosign.”

Dick said, “Let me get this straight. I put up the boat, but if you want to foreclose, then you can get it from the cosigner if that’s easier for you.”

“Well, not quite. We have to make a good-faith attempt to sell the boat.”

“So the cosigner could be anyone with something worth ten thousand dollars? Or would it be twenty thousand?”

Joxer said, “No. It would have to be someone of good standing with ready assets. A bank account, stocks, bonds. That sort of thing.”

“So Parker’s boat wouldn’t do.”

Joxer laughed. “Parker’s boat may be here today, gone tomorrow. Just like Parker.”

Dick said, “What about Eddie Wormsley? He’s got equipment for his wood-and-lumber business, it’s worth as much as his house. Tractor, portable sawmill, flatbed truck with a hydraulic arm.”

Joxer said, “I don’t think so. It has to be readily convertible assets. Look. I’ll tell you what I can do. I’m — how shall I put this? — disposed to ask my company to lend you the money. There is an advantage to the company in getting another boat under contract to go out for crabs. Part of the deal, incidentally, will have to be that you undertake to make your best efforts to bring in red crab. We have a standard clause. It’s usually a yearly agreement, but we’d have to make yours last until you pay off the loan, or, let’s say, three years, whichever is longer.”

“And that’ll do it?” Dick said. “What about swordfishing on the way out and on the way home?”

Joxer held up his hand. “Yes, sure, you can look for swordfish. But no, that won’t do it. You still need a cosignatory. What I’ll do is see if I can find someone. Better yet — have you thought of Miss Perry?”

Dick shook his head. “Now, what puts you in mind of Miss Perry? I see her maybe three times a year. She likes my kids. I don’t know what all you people keep saying ‘Miss Perry’ for. I don’t mind dealing with Eddie Wormsley, we’re in a lot of things together. Parker’s an old wheeler-dealer from the word ‘go.’ I don’t mind talking to you, you’re in the business. I catch what you sell. You’re out to make money.” Dick shook his head. “It’s hard to say. She’s not … Look. It’s like this. If you go to church and you see a fellow put a hundred bucks in the collection plate, what do you do? I don’t suppose you go up and grab his arm and say, ‘Hey, I could use some of that.’ ”

Joxer just sat there, let his chin sink onto his chest. Dick couldn’t tell what Joxer was thinking. Dick felt worn out. He felt as though he’d opened a hole in his chest.