Chase nodded in ascent. “I hear you. I’ve gotanother 3 days left until I go ashore anyway. With that stormexpected to roll in tonight, I think I’ll be good.” He grabbed hisgear and headed for his bunk.
His tiny room was a mercifully quiet. Thetopside crew was working at full capacity, making up the time lostin the explosion and in preparation for the incoming tropicalstorm. Not quite to hurricane season yet, but nature didn’t appearto care this year. Chase found that he had his cave to himselftoday, his bunkmate still on duty for the next 6 hours.
He stripped down to his briefs, too tired towash up before hitting the sack. Over ten damn years of this. He’drun away from his hometown at the ripe age of 18 for diving schooland hadn’t been back since. Nearing 30, he knew it was time to getout.
He had no intention of ending up like Hank.He knew it was a good possibility, sooner or later. One didn’t justwork one of the world’s most dangerous jobs if he didn’t have adeath wish, or at least a serious case of adrenaline addiction.
He’d never really had a death wish, nor anadrenaline issue. He’d had a contact at a commercial diving schooland little else, so Chase had jumped at the opportunity for goodmoney and an escape from his problems. Since finishing training,he’d picked up every damn job he could, appreciating that theintensity of the work had not allowed time to dwell on his pastmistakes.
Chase crashed on the narrow bunk, not caringthat the blankets were still in a wad at the foot of the bed afterhe’d kicked them off when he’d woken for his shift this morning.Twelve on and twelve off for 2 solid weeks; long damn days. Hishead still throbbed, but the nausea was fading. Just a few hours ofrack-time and he’d be good as new. Until the sharp ring of thephone about pierced his skull.
No one on the rig would be calling, but whothe hell would be calling from the mainland? He rubbed a handthrough his hair as he leaned over to grab the phone. “Hello?” hedidn’t try to mask the confusion from his voice.
"Hey Chase, how goes the oil business?Staying safe?" Chase was surprised to hear from Frank but wasalways happy to hear from his best friend’s father–and the closestthing he had to a decent father figure. Frank and his wife Laurachecked in with him every month like clockwork. They normally timedtheir calls to catch him while he was ashore in his spartan studioapartment. Today's call while he was out on the rig wasunexpected.
“Yeah, Frank, you know me, Mr. Safety," Chasedryly responded. He stood frozen with the phone to his ear,unsettled. “Good to hear your voice. What’s up?
"Chase," Frank held for a long pause, "Iguess I'll just get right to it, as I'm sure you're wondering whyI'm calling you when you're working. I... well..." Frank stuttered,searching for the right words. "Your dad died. His liver finallygave out; you know he'd been dealing with the cirrhosis for awhile."
The foul air felt suddenly heavier andthicker. He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to clear hisalready muddled brain. As angry as he'd been with his father forgiving up and drinking his life away, it was tough to think of theold man dying alone. The heat was sweltering for mid-March, but thenews made him break out in a cold sweat.
"You still there? Talk to me Chase." Frank'sconcern was almost palpable. Chase pictured Frank on the other end.How much had Frank's beard grayed in the past decade? Did he stillhave that lean fisherman's build and seasoned temperament, or hadhis years in management softened him?
"Yeah, I'm here. Just processing." Chaselooked out the portal window. As anticipated, dark, ominous cloudswere rolling in. At the moment, he'd rather be caught in theturbulent waves than resting in his bunk, his already sour stomachwas now roiling with guilt... and relief.
Frank continued, "I've been doing somethinking. Now may not be the best time to bring this up. But… I'mhoping to give you something positive to consider. I want you tocome and work for me, hopefully takeover McAllister Fisheries whenI’m ready to retire. I know you Chase. You were a great son andprovided your dad with the best chance to turn his life around.Even though that was never your responsibility. But, Chase, it'stime you let it go and come home where you belong. You know none ofmy children have any interest in fisheries; who knows what I didwrong there.
"Laura's retiring in 3 months. I don't wanther to have all the fun without me, so I'm hoping to start cuttingback on my hours until I'm ready to retire. I'm a tired oldfisherman set in my ways. We need some new blood around here toturn things around and diversify the business. Build a strongerfuture for this town."
"Frank, are you sure I'm the right guy? Whatabout Steve? Or one of the other guys?"
"You know Steve. I tried to convince him tojoin me the office a few years ago. I told him he'd become a crustyold sea captain. He outright cussed at me and stormed out. Hehardly spoke to me for a week. That man would be a fish out ofwater, bossing from shore." The two chuckled over the phonetogether at the image. Steve's permanently crinkled eyes, setdeeply in his leathered face, his scruffy white beard; he may aswell invest in a wooden leg and an official captain's hat.
"Think it over, Chase. Don't decide now. Whydon't you get yourself back home, get back on the boat for a fewdays to get back in the rhythm. Try out the office for a few monthswhile you make up your mind. Let's test out that business degreeyou finally finished." On his breaks from the rig, Chase had beenrestless, but refused to get trashed and waste his hard-earned cashlike so many of the other divers. It had taken years, but he earnedhis MBA through a distance learning program.
"Frank, that sounds amazing. I'm not sure ofthe reception I'll get around town, but I sure miss you guys. Ihave a few things to wrap up around here and can be there in July."Chase stared back out the portal as they disconnected. Lightninglit up the small scrap of sky. Yeah, Chase was ready to go home. Ifhe stayed much longer, he had no doubt he’d end up lost at sea,another statistic, like Hank.
He paced back and forth, taking the foursteps it took to cross the long-end of the room, restless. Knowinghe needed the rest with his concussion, he forced himself to liedown and relax. He crossed his feet and put his hands behind hishead.
Staring up at the ceiling, a nervous laughescaped. He'd left town in a big hurry. Hopefully he wouldn't bereturning to any open warrants but was sure Laura would have lethim know.
He closed his eyes, allowing the approachingthunder to lull him to sleep. The rain was now rhythmically tickingagainst the exterior wall. He'd have to make sure the town waswilling to accept him back before he took on anything as big asMcAllister Fisheries. If that didn't work out, he'd built enough ofa nest egg. He’d land on his feet.
2
Present Day: Seaview, Maine
"Stop! Put down the bag, remove your mask and putyour hands in the air," Maddy demanded, posed to mobilize if theperp tried to run. Hand at her side, she was ready to grab hersidearm; which she didn’t carry anyway.
Not in Seaview. Her most strenuous dutiestypically included breaking up barfights between fishermen orconfiscating weed from underage tourists; no weapons required. Notlike her time as a detective in Seattle working vice. Drug bustshad been her favorite, but she still felt shaky with domesticviolence.
In this case, however, she'd likely have noneed to run and absolutely no reason to draw a weapon. This wouldprobably be the biggest arrest of her week… if she actuallyarrested him. Not likely.
Grayson Reeves, 12 years old and desperate tobe larger than life, had made off with Mrs. Daniels' purse in aclassic caper. She pasted a grim look on her face to mask herinternal giggle fit as she assessed his uniquely clever disguise,which comprised of black sweatpants, black t-shirt, face covered bya black ski mask with rough-cut holes for his eyes and mouth. Inbroad daylight. On Beachside Avenue. Maybe she'd talk with himlater about the superiority of subtlety when committing acrime.
Not today. She would not provide anyencouragement for this budding criminal.
Why on earth did he think he could get awaywith stealing his grandmother's friend's purse? In this town? Well,he wasn't thinking this through. Hence, the exciting 20-meterfoot-chase.
