NO MAN AN ISLE
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Chapter 5
They arrived at the terminal and found the gate, watching the plane taxi in. Kurt spotted Erik's blond crewcut and wolfish grin in the first group of passengers coming through the passageway.
Don took one look at the brawny man in white summer uniform and slipped behind Kurt in panic.
"Kurt!" Erik yelled, pushing through the crowd and crossing the waiting room in long strides. He threw his arms around Kurt in a bear hug. "How'd you know when I was coming in?"
"The chief asked me to pick you up. Said the station budget couldn't stand the cost of your transportation."
"Fool."
"When do you have to report in?"
"By midnight."
"Good. We'll have dinner first. I want to give Don something special for his work. You won't believe how good everything at the house looks."
A scowl creased Erik's face. "Who's this Don?"
Kurt turned to find Don, pulling the trembling boy nearer on dragging feet. "This is Don."
Erik studied him without speaking, his icy stare making Don press close to Kurt.
"Where's your bag?" Kurt asked to relieve the uncertainty.
"Two blue ones over there." He jerked his head in the direction of a baggage rack where porters were dropping luggage from the flight.
"I'll get 'em." With a sense of relief, Don dashed off.
Erik watched as Don picked up the bags. "Good God, Kurt. Not him, too?"
"Be very gentle with him, Erik; he's a good kid. I'll tell you about it later."
"Table for three, gentlemen?" The maitre d' led the way toward a quiet area of the dining room.
"Do you happen to be Charles?" Kurt asked.
"Yes, sir." The man searched his memory for a name.
"I'm Kurt Lawrence. I believe my uncle Paul Beaumont used to come here rather frequently. Though it's been a few years now, perhaps you remember him."
The maitre d's face brightened. "Of course I remember Professor Beaumont. I hope you will visit us often, also."
"Thank you. What would you recommend this evening?"
"The special of the evening is lobster. It was flown in from Maine this morning. It's the finest we've had in some time."
"Excellent. The wine list, please."
"May I choose for you, sir?"
"Of course." Kurt smiled at Erik and Don. "If the food is half as good as Uncle Paul said, we have something to look forward to. The last time he brought me here I was just a kid, but I remember his saying this was one of the few civilized places in town to eat."
Both Don and Erik were startled when their waiter passed the lobster bibs in front of them and proceeded to tie them around their necks.
"What the hell?" Erik blurted.
"Oh, come, the bibs are traditional. You've had lobster before, haven't you?" Kurt asked.
"Only at roasts on the beach."
Don ate his salad easily, but looked panic stricken at the platter the waiter set in front of him, wondering how he would ever wrest the meat from the shell until Kurt's knowing wink brought assurance.
The waiter uncorked the wine and poured for Kurt's approval, then filled his glass and Erik's. "I'm afraid I can't serve the young gentleman, sir."
Erik grabbed Don's glass and set it down next to his own. As soon as the waiter turned his back, Erik filled it and passed it to Don. "You deserve this. If Kurt's happy with what you've done, I know you did a good job."
"Watch it, Erik; you're contributing to the delinquency of a minor," Kurt teased.
"Oh, shut up. There's no telling what you've done to the poor kid."
When Erik set the glass of wine in front of him, Don smiled gratefully. He liked wine. A few times he and two or three of the other kids in foster care had gone to a supermarket. One of them would tuck a bottle of cheap wine under his jacket and while the others created a diversion, the one carrying the bottle slipped around the checkout line. They hid the wine behind the dumpster in back of the school's gymnasium. When school was out and the other students had left, they commiserated with one another over their unfortunate situations as they passed the bottle back and forth. He vaguely remembered the afternoon he'd staggered around the corner of the gym and into the arms of the principal. When the man grabbed him by the shoulders, he'd giggled. Seeing the silly expression, the principal charged around the corner, but the other kids had already scattered. The brutal beating he received from his foster father had begun the ten month journey that brought him to Kurt.
Kurt cracked the lobster and removed the meat for Don, then turned to his own. Don watched, trying his best to match the manners Kurt displayed.
As they ate, their dissimilar but striking handsomeness brought them an admiring gaze from a young lady at the next table, to the increasing annoyance of her date. In response to her whispered comment, he replied in tones that carried, "For God's sake, Ann, didn't you see them when they came in? The civilian and the kid are cripples."
Erik's chair crashed over backwards as he sprang up. Two strides and he grabbed a handful of shirt, jerking the startled man to his feet. "What did you say?"
"Erik!" Kurt's cry had no effect.
The maitre d' rushed over. "Gentlemen, please."
Kurt grasped Erik's wrists. "Let him go."
Erik released the shaken man to face the maitre d'. "He insulted Mr. Lawrence and Don. I'm not lettin' 'im get away with it."
While the embarrassed couple gathered their things to leave, the maitre d' followed Erik and Kurt back to their table. "My apologies, gentlemen. Please enjoy your dinner."
Don slumped lower in his seat, his head down. "I'm sorry I spoiled your dinner, sir," he said as Erik sat down.
"You aren't the cause any more than Kurt." He groped under the table for the hook, closing his hand over it. Don tried to pull away, but Erik's vise-like grip held as he lifted it. "If you think this makes any difference to me, you're crazy. Now forget it."
Kurt started to relax, but seeing Don's fear of Erik, he wondered how to relieve the boy's anxiety.
Erik drove. Don sat in the back of the Jeep behind Kurt, silent while Kurt told Erik all that had happened while he was away. When they arrived at the station to let Erik off, the chief insisted they join him for coffee. Erik snorted contemptuously when Don mentioned Tony and left them to seek him out.
When Erik returned from the galley and passed the mugs of coffee, Kurt noticed the additional stripe on his sleeve. "You've been promoted!"
"I wondered how long it would take somebody to notice."
The chief shook his head slowly. "I'd of sworn you'd get busted again."
"And let Kurt and you down? Not a chance!"
Kurt stopped the Jeep in front of the house and looked at Don who had not spoken since they had left the station. "What's wrong?"
Don shook his head. "Nothin'."
"Come on, now. What is it?"
"It's him."
"You mean Erik?"
Don nodded.
"What about him?"
"I know he's your friend, but he scares me."
"Why?"
"He's bigger than both of us put together."
"What's his size got to do with it?"
"I ... I don't know. It ... it's just guys big as him have always scared me. And when he grabbed that guy in the restaurant, I ..."
"There's no reason for you to be afraid of him, Don. I didn't mean to worry you when I told you about him. Once you get to know him, I'm sure you'll like him as much as I. You aren't afraid of the chief are you?"
Don shook his head.
"He's a big man."
"I know, but he's always nice and friendly."
Kurt grinned. "I expect Tony and Erik would give you some argument about that, but I feel the same way. There are times when he reminds me of my uncle." He slapped a mosquito. "Damn. Let's get in before we get carried away."
Just before dinner the next evening, Erik let himself in. He found Kurt and Don in the kitchen. "I was almost afraid I was in the wrong place, it looks so different."
"Give the credit to Don."
"How did you manage so quickly?"
Seeing Don back away, Kurt interrupted. "He isn't lazy like us."
"Aw, you worked, too."
"You did a great job, Don."
"Thank you, sir."
"The name's Erik."
"Yes, sir."
Erik jabbed at him playfully. "Say it."
Don ducked then looked up at the smile. "Erik."
"That's better." He held out a small flat package to Kurt. "This is all I could find I knew you didn't have."
Kurt tore the wrapping away. "The Vierne symphonies! I've been wanting them, but I didn't know they had been recorded. Thanks, Erik. I really appreciate these. Oh, that reminds me." He picked up two issues of The American Organist and handed them to Erik. "These were in my post box when I checked it the other morning."
"Thanks. It's the Guild magazine. I hope you don't mind I gave them your address, but when it came to the station it was nearly always late and usually messed up. I don't guess the Guard likes magazines in the mail."
"Of course I don't mind. I read several of the articles. They were quite interesting."
"Good. You could join, you know. Anybody who plays organ is eligible and I'd be glad to sponsor you. You don't have to belong to a chapter if there's not one convenient. I don't."
"Thanks. Let me think about it."
Kurt and Don were reading when Erik unexpectedly burst into the house just after lunch a few days later. "Come on, you two. Hurry."
"What's up?" Kurt asked as the station Jeep jounced across the sand.
"Maybe Don. Would you like to ride in a chopper?"
Don's eyes widened. "Oh, wow! I've never even seen one up close."
"Some pilot the chief knows is getting in some flight time and landed at the station. The chief fixed it up for you."
An officer was talking with the chief as Erik braked the Jeep.
"Kurt, Don, this is Lieutenant Koss. He agreed to take Don on a short hop."
Kurt took the extended hand. "Lieutenant. I can't tell you how much this means."
"Glad to do it. The chief tells me Don is really sold on the Guard. Come on, son, climb aboard."
Don's eyes widened in excitement as the pilot strapped him in the seat then took his place. The engine roared and the machine lifted off as Kurt, Erik, and the chief watched.
"Erik, get us some coffee." The chief requested.
"I don't know how to thank you, Chief. I know Don's going to have nothing else to talk about for a month." Kurt said.
"Forget it. I know it's a little irregular, but Johann, I mean the lieutenant, owes me a couple of favors; I'm just collecting. You know how much that boy's come to mean to me." He stopped for a moment, a far-away look in his eyes. "You know, I had a son once. Johann was his best friend. I guess that's why you and Don and Erik seem so much like family to me."
"I didn't know you were married, Chief."
"That was a long time ago, son." He straightened. "I almost forgot what I wanted to tell you. I was going through the personnel records the other day and found out next Friday week is Erik's birthday. I know he wouldn't tell you, but I thought you'd want to know."
"I really appreciate your telling me, Chief. How about fixing things so he can't get away before five-thirty or so, then come over and have dinner with us."
"I'd like that."
Erik returned with the coffee and the three of them leaned against the fence chatting until the roar overhead made conversation impossible. The helicopter settled gently on the parking area. The pilot bent low to lead Don under the slowly turning rotor blades.
Don quivered with excitement. "Kurt, it was fantastic! We went past the lighthouse, and the campground looked like it was full of toys. You could see ships out at sea and some of those sunken wrecks I read about!" He turned back to the officer. "Thanks a lot, sir. It was great!"
"Glad to have you aboard, son."
The station bell chimed. "It's chow time, why don't you all stay?" The chief invited.
"Thanks, Chief."
"What about you, Sir?"
"Give me a rain-check, Chief. I've got to get back to the base. Hope to see you again, Don."
They watched as the helicopter turned toward the mainland and disappeared beyond the trees before going inside. Kurt felt at ease when Don took a seat at the table between him and Erik and looked at Erik with his shy smile for the first time.
Kurt checked the fridge and finished making up the list, resigning himself to the drive into the village. A number of times since Don had been with him, it would have been expedient to have sent him out on errands, but when asked, the boy had shamefacedly admitted that he had never learned to drive. Kurt fidgeted in the heavy slow-moving traffic, patience dwindling. The still air layered the blue haze of choking exhaust fumes. When he reached the house, Don and Erik were lounging contentedly on the deck in the shade of a large dogwood.
"Erik, you've absolutely got to teach Don to drive," Kurt burst out. "There are times when I simply can't face another trip to the village, traffic what it is."
"Why me? You could do it."
"No way. I haven't the patience."
"Ha! You think I have?" He shrugged and glanced at his watch. "What the hell. I think we've got time to take a run to the patrol station and get Don a learner's permit and a book. Come on, Don, before he changes his mind."
"That's not bloody likely," Kurt snapped.
Don threw himself happily into study, absorbing the rules so rapidly that when Erik quizzed him the following afternoon, Don made only two mistakes.
"Not bad, Don. If you learn to handle the Jeep as easily, this should be a snap. Do we have time for a run before dinner?" Erik asked Kurt.
"Go ahead. It can wait until you get back."
Don tensed as he started the engine and eased the selector into drive.
Erik looked at Don's rigid posture. "Relax and take it easy, it's not going to run away from you. Just don't gun it in the sand or we'll get buried for sure."
"I'll try." Don eased the Jeep slowly through the gate and turned toward the station.
"How was it?" Kurt asked when they returned.
"Great!" Don cried.
Erik shrugged. "I've seen better, but he wasn't bad considering he's never tried before. Let him pick me up at the station after hours and I'll get him straightened out."
As the week passed and Don became familiar with the vehicle, he frequently teased Erik. When they entered the house after a session in the heavy highway traffic, Don's face wore a look of triumph, while Erik essayed speechless frustration.
"Okay, tell me." Kurt demanded.
Erik began to sputter as Don laughed. "He was hassling me as usual, but I got him."
"Do you know what he dared say to me? If I catch him, I'll shake a year's growth off his scrawny bones!" He lunged at Don, who sidestepped easily. "I told him to keep both hands on the wheel when he was driving and he gave me one of those grins and said, 'lend me your left one and I will.'"
"You should have seen Erik. He looked so stupid when he finally caught on. I didn't think he was so slow," Don taunted, then ran for the back door.
"I'll slow you!" Erik yelled, dashing out in pursuit. When he returned, his hand firmly grasped the waistband of Don's jeans; Don dangled a good two feet off the ground, giggling.
Friday afternoon while Kurt cooked, Don set the drop-leaf table in the library for the four of them, using a tablecloth, china, and silver that had belonged to Kurt's mother. He set a bowl of flowers from the garden in the center. They were ready by the time they heard the station Jeep outside.
Erik stopped in the doorway and sniffed. "Something sure smells good. Are you having a party?"
"Of course," Kurt replied while Don stifled his laughter.
"What's the occasion?"
"You're back here where you belong and there's your promotion to celebrate," Kurt said.
"We already did that. Besides, that was three weeks ago."
This time the chief chuckled, adding to Erik's confusion.
"Come on, Erik, don't you know your own birthday?" Asked Don.
"It's not my birthday. My birthday's ... It is!"
"You can fix drinks for everyone, Erik. Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes."
After the meal, Erik leaned back in his chair and patted his stomach. "Thanks, Kurt, that was great. How'd you know I liked roast duck and wild rice?"
"You've wished for it often enough. And don't you believe finding wild rice wasn't a job. You're just lucky a store in Elizabeth City had some."
Don helped Kurt clear and, as Kurt poured coffee, put two wrapped gifts before Erik. "Happy birthday, Erik. I hope yours is good as Kurt made mine."
"It's already been more than any I've ever had." He stripped the wrappings and looked at the slim gold cigarette lighter and the music, his expression reflecting his happiness. But the feeling that infused him was an uncharted experience he could not communicate.
The chief reached behind him. From a stack of books he was returning to Kurt, he withdrew a thin leather-bound volume and extended it to Erik. "It hasn't much value, son, except for me." He choked for a moment. "Well, you'll see what I mean. I want you to have it because you've become a lot like him."
Erik opened the worn cover. Inscribed in the chief's hand on the flyleaf:
To my son on his eighteenth birthday from a proud and devoted father.
Silently, he handed the book to Kurt for him and Don to see - Emerson's Self Reliance and looked at the chief, eyes questioning.
"He's dead, son." The man answered slowly.
"I'm sorry, sir."
"Let's hear you play something."
Erik switched on the organ and began a Pepping prelude from the book Don had chosen to give him after consulting Kurt.
To be continued...
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Posted: 07/18/08