James Moore - Deeper

Deeper

by

J a m e s A. M o o r e

My grandfatherused to tell me that the oceans knew all the secrets the world had tooffer. He said the biggest problem wasthat no one ever seemed to know how to listen for those secrets.

That stuckwith me over the years. I've never beena man of science. I've never had thepatience to go through all of the studies and tests that are required to be aproper man of science, but I have always paid attention to what theoceanographers and weather people had to say about the world that lurks belowthe water's surface.

It's a damnedbig world under there, and even with everything we've learned about the seas,there are a million more mysteries to be solved. For me the notion of actually solving them islaughable. I just like to contemplatethem from time to time when I've had a few too many drinks and I'm looking outover the harbor.

My name isJoseph Alexander Bierden. Most peoplejust call me Joe. I've lived in the sameplace for most of my life and I haven't been in much of a hurry to get anywhereelse. I like the sea and I like the townof Bowden'sPoint. It's no BlackStoneBay, but it'll do in apinch.

Anyone who'sever been to a seaside town knows the drill. There are people who live there year-round and there are people who cometo visit. I'm one of the year-roundresidents. I make most of my moneyduring the summer months, when there are plenty of people who need to hire aboat, mostly for fishing and sometimes just to have a party here the neighborsaren't going to complain about the noise. I have three boats all told. Oneold wreck called the Marianne Winston after an old girlfriend who dumped me not long after I bought it is used byme when I feel like actually going out for a little crabbing. I have a twenty-foot galleon, called Lisa's Hope, I use for smaller partiesand I have a sixty-foot yacht, Isabella'sDream, for the parties that feel like spending a small fortune and don'tmind the hefty security deposits. Therehave even been a few wedding performed on the Isabella, and a few honeymoons as well.

It's a livingand the only one I really want to have. My job I can't really call it a career, because I just don't take itseriously enough provides me with a roof over my head, a good deal of freetime to spend with my wife and kids, and allows me to work around my first lovewhenever I feel the need.

My first lovehas always been the ocean. Isabella knewthat when I proposed to her, and still she accepted. I guess that's the reason I've always beenfaithful to her, despite the numerous temptations. Don't get me wrong. I don't think I'm anything special, but youmix the summer weather enough alcohol, and a party on a yacht together and I'vehad a ridiculous number of offers.

It isnt allpeaches and cream as the old saying goes. There are a lot of things that have to be taken care of during any yearto ensure a comfortable living, and there have been a few times when I wasn'tvery proud of myself for some of the work I did. Back when I was just starting out, I did somerather shady work bringing in bundles of drugs that I picked up offshore. If my reputation in town hadn't been as solidas it was, I might well have been caught, too. I didn't do it too often and I only ever took on the extra work when Ineeded the money to pay the bills and make a decent living. I stopped dealing with any part of the drugtrade around the same time one of the other captains I knew would up with a fewbullet holes through his body and his head missing. It wasn't easy to get out of the business,but I managed, and the man I was picking up for was a good sport about it. If he hadn't been, I wouldn't be writing thisdown now.

So, yes, a fewthings I'm ashamed of, a few marks on my list of the seven deadly sins, butnothing extreme. Funnyhow that works. We can almostalways justify our actions if we take the time to explain them to ourselves.

I'll let youin on a secret, though. Sometimes wedon't know that what we're doing is wrong until it's too late. Sometimes the most innocent things, thesafest things, can turn like a snake and bite you on the ankle, and when thathappens, there's only one choice left.

You've got totry to fix what you did wrong and pray to whatever gods you might believe inthat you aren't too late.

I should haveknown things would go wrong on that little venture. My guts were telling me that taking the jobwas a bad idea, but I brushed it off because the money was nice and becauseBelle wanted a vacation that was worth noticing.

All you can doin life is make sure you do things for all the rightreasons. There's nothing else in thelong run, except to hope the things you do don't come back to kick you in thejaw.

It started atthe end of the busy season. I was justabout ready to pull out my little crabbing boat and go lay some traps and callit done. The tourists were mostly goneand the air was starting to get its early morning winter chill. The girls wandering around in bikinis hadgraduated up to wearing jeans again always a depressing thing for an oldletch like me: married but not blind,you know. And God help me, there werealready signs popping up for the end of summer sales and the new fall fashionsin the windows of half the stores in town.

I wasn'treally trolling for new business. Ithadn't been the best summer ever, but it was far from the worst, and I hadearned enough to keep the bills paid. Charlie Moncrief , my trusty right-hand man, was double-checking all of the nets andcables and I was polishing the brass railing on the Isabella's Dream when the offer came my way.

Charlie is abig man, with an easygoing smile and a permanent tan caused half by the sun andhalf by the wind. Even in the winter,when there's no way in hell to get the boats out for a long trip and the sundoesn't much peek its face out of the clouds, Charlie has that dark tan. And his eyes, Lord Almighty ,his eyes are almost exactly the same color as the sea on a stormy day. Women seem to love them. I could spend days telling you stories aboutCharlie and his numerous adventures on the water and in different ports, but Iwill say this: he is a perfect exampleof what has been said about sailors for years. There's a girl in every port, and in most of them there are probably twoor three. Charlie always had a way withthe ladies, and could drink most men under the table without even trying.

Charlienoticed the people first, of course, because there were women involved. Four people came toward the yacht and lookedat it carefully. I nodded my head andleft them in peace, because most of the times when you have a small group likethat, they're considering whether or not they want to rent your ship out forthe day and trying to decide if the rates are fair enough. The rates are never fair enough, but mostpeople are willing to pay them. I'llnegotiate most times, and now and then I'll even let them win a good hagglingargument, but only if the coffers at home have enough money to see me through afew more days.

None of themlooked like the seafaring type. Therewas a couple who was obviously together and looked like they shouldn't havebeen. I guess I should describe themproperly just so you can get a good picture of them. There was a stick of a man with salt-and-pepper hair, and a girl ofaround twenty hanging at his side. Shewas more handsome than pretty, and had a smile that was pure confidence andgood feelings. She had more muscles thanhe did, and I assumed she was big into sports. Her hair was cut short so it wouldn't get in her way, and if I'd beenasked by someone I would have labeled her an athlete. They both looked like they belonged on acollege campus. The stick man hadprofessor written all over him. I'm sureyou know the type, the sort who only feels right in his classroom, where he'spractically the king, but take the classroom away and suddenly he looks alittle confused about where he is and why he's there.