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  Testing the Waters

  A Short Story of Mythic Proportions

  by

  Tammie Painter

  TESTING THE WATERS

  ON A PERFECT spring morning with flat seas and clear blue skies, Captain Eli P. Marin made a terrible mistake. He broke his contract with the gods.

  No one could believe he'd really done it when it happened, but as in any small fishing village, the founders of Port Athens would later recall the little signs they'd seen over the past months and the little flaws in Eli's character, then claim they each had seen problems coming for a long time with him but had wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

  It started the day before the opening of the spring fishing season, when Eli P. Marin, captain of the S.S. Neptune, claimed he had to go into the big city to attend a yard sale. That a yard sale would even be held in March struck everyone as odd. Like barbecues and horseshoes, yard sales were a summer thing, but Eli insisted he'd been specially invited to this one while avoiding answering questions of why and by whom. He deftly waved them off by claiming he'd been told there was an item for sale he'd been searching for for ages.

  Eli P. Marin returned three hours later with a vaguely familiar tool.

  When his neighbor, Tanner H. Bellos, an artist who specialized in metal sculptures, saw Eli pulling the thing out of his truck's bed, he asked,"That a pitchfork, Eli?"

  "No, Tanner," Eli replied, then thumped the butt of the tool into the ground, placed his free hand akimbo on his hip, and puffed out his broad chest. "This here's a trident."

  "Like the gum?" Tanner said. Eli scowled at him, then rolled his eyes. Tanner never was the brightest of Port Athens's founders and you simply can't cure stupid no matter who you are.

  "Yes, exactly like the gum," Eli grumbled. Abandoning his stance and still clutching the trident, he grabbed a cloth sack from the front seat of his truck. Something inside sloshed.

  "I think your ice cream gone and melted." Tanner then smiled at his own cleverness.

  Because he had a favor to ask, Eli returned the smile. "Good one. Say, you still got that old fish bowl Artie tried to grow Sea Monkeys in?"

  "Sure do. She left it behind when she went off to school. You want it? It's just taking up space here."

  "Much obliged."

  Just before ducking into his garage to get the fishbowl, Tanner turned back at the threshold and asked, "What do you want it for? Thought you'd want a break from fish a while longer."

  Just like the dozen or so other fishing villages dotting the northern coastline, the fisherman of Port Athens spent month after month catching fish, hauling fish, selling fish, gutting fish. The fishermen of Port Athens, especially those on the Neptune, always brought in the greatest haul of all the villages, but last season had been unusually plentiful. Regardless of how prosperous these hauls made Port Athens, when the season was over every fisherman swore to have nothing to do with fish. Even Finding Nemo was banned from Port Athens in between seasons.

  "It's just a little experiment. You go get me that bowl and if you see any of the others, be sure to invite them 'round my place tonight. If this works out like I think it will, it'll be a new future for Port Athens."

  "A new future?"

  "A return to our former glory," Eli said with a conspirator's grin and a curious sparkle to his deep blue eyes.

  "Alright then," Tanner said warily. Port Athens wasn't conservative in its politics, but they were in their mindset. Experimenting sounded dangerous. And a new future? They certainly didn't need one, did they? Port Athens was doing just fine, better than fine if you compared it to the neighboring villages, and Tanner fully believed that you don't go upsetting the apple cart if the wheels still go round and round.

  Eli took the bowl, tucked it under his arm, and gathered up the sack that sagged sloppily when he lifted it. By now Eli's other neighbor, Sonny A. Jolie, who specialized in lighting, had peered out his front door. When he saw Eli going into his home with the trident, he passed a glance to Tanner and arched an eyebrow. Tanner replied to the unspoken question with one disapproving shake of his head. A chill went up Sonny's arms and he stepped back inside, closing the door cautiously behind him.

  When his twin sister, Simone A. Jolie, Port Athens's hairdresser and all-around beauty guru, noticed the strained expression on his face, she asked her brother what was troubling him. He smiled at her concern, but there was no true happiness on his face.

  "There's just something going on next door. It's probably nothing."

  "Then why the grimace? It'll give you wrinkles, you know."

  "Because you know as well as I do what will happen if it turns out not to be nothing."

  "Well, I've got to go to work," Simone said distractedly, her thoughts drifting off to the pet doves she had to give up before moving to Port Athens. The pet doves Eli had told her might still be somewhere nearby. "I've got Gloria coming in for the first spot this afternoon. I'll see if she's noticed anything."

  "Don't say too much. We don't want to be stirring up trouble where there is none."

  "Of course not."

  Simone gave Sonny a peck on the cheek and walked to the salon. On her way, she wondered, as she often did, if she shouldn't branch out to another of the villages. Maybe she could do mobile calls for fashion consulting, "doing people's colors" as they say.

  It wasn't that she wasn't content in Port Athens, but the Port Athens women always stuck to their same hairstyles, only rarely did they let her add some flair to their makeup, and it was a rare event indeed when one of them dared to wear an outfit she'd designed for them. For a woman with Simone's creative flair, there was frustratingly little change in Port Athens. She supposed that's what they agreed to when they settled here, but would a tiny bit of change be so bad?

  When Simone entered the salon, Gloria H. Diaz, the mayor's wife, was already waiting and flipping through a style magazine. Before Simone could greet her, her phone rang. She answered it, holding up a finger to Gloria to indicate it would just be a second, then turned away from Gloria as if the nosey woman might somehow sense it was Eli on the other end.

  "You're coming by tonight?" Eli asked.

  "For what?"

  "So I can show them what we could all be doing. It's silly to limit ourselves when we have this chance. And I'll give you the number to my guy. You're still interested, right?"

  "Sure," Simone said cautiously and moved farther away from Gloria, pretending to look over her appointment book. "Couldn't you take care of it?"

  Gloria glanced up inquisitively, but Simone rolled her eyes as if dealing with an unwanted issue. Gloria returned to flipping through the pages of hair styles giving Simone a flash of hope today might be the day the mayor's wife tried something new.

  "No, he needs to see you in person. He needs to know you're the real deal."

  "Okay, then. Gotta go."

  Simone hung up the phone and guided Gloria to her chair where Simone whisked a protective cape over Gloria to keep the trimmed hair off her clothes. Simone assessed Gloria's hair. What she could do with some highlights and a nice asymmetrical bob.

  "What will it be today, Gloria?" Simone asked, crossing her fingers that the magazines had inspired something.

  "Just a trim."

  "Right," Simone replied with naked disappointment. She misted Gloria's hair, took out some clips, and began the process she'd done every eight weeks for as long as she could remember. Before Gloria could ask about the phone call, Simone said, "Sonny thinks Eli might be up to something."

  "Yes, there's been some talk, but of course Mr. Diaz doesn't like to think his own brother would go against the rules."

  "Talk?"

  "From John H. Volant, of course. I guess he thinks as our mailman he has to be the first to spread any gossip."

  Simone combed out the under layer of Gloria's thick gray hair, told her to tilt her head down, and trimmed away exactly one inch of hair in a perfectly straight line. After the first clip of the scissors Simone asked, "Such as?"

  "The fish harvest for one thing. Eli has always ensured we've had a healthy catch, but he went too far last season. How does it look when Port Athens is bringing in catches as plentiful as they were thirty years ago when all the other fishing villages are barely scraping by. Someone's bound notice and then they'll start asking questions. If we want to keep Port Athens running on an even keel we can't attract attention like that."

  Simone half-smiled as she loosened another layer of hair from the clips and brought the scissors up again. Would it be so bad to cut off six inches and show Gloria how great she'd look in a bob? After all, what could Gloria do about it? Once cut, hair can't be put back on.

  "Would be so bad?" Simone said with a sigh as she lowered her shears back to the one-inch mark. "A little change might--"

  "Might disrupt everything." Gloria jerked her head up and locked eyes with Simone in the mirror. "We all gave up something to move here. Quite a lot in fact." Gloria's gaze shifted, taking in the reflection of the customers who had shown up since she sat down. Connor Ford, Liza Marquez, Sven Branson. Locals, but not founders.

  Simone politely agreed but kept the rest of the conversation neutral as she combed, clipped, and conditioned Gloria's hair over the next twenty minutes. Simone may have been chatting about Gloria's garden, but inside she secre

tly hoped Eli might do something. After all, hadn't she been tempted once or twice to test out her skills just to see if they still work?

  Once finished, she whisked the plastic cape off Gloria who scrutinized Simone's work in the mirror before paying the exact amount. Gloria H. Diaz never tipped. At least some things never changed no matter how long you spent on this earth.

  "Any plans for the rest of the day?" Simone asked automatically as she handed Gloria her receipt.

  "I'll be stopping in to speak with Evelyn A. Wright. I need to consult with someone who knows the law before I get my husband involved in this matter with Eli."

  Thankfully the shop was busy and Simone was able to give a noncommittal offer of luck to send Gloria on her way.

  Although she wondered if her hair wasn't too short, Gloria gave no sign of her self-conscious thoughts as she strode east down Port Athens's Main Street. Two blocks down a small office bore a black sign with gold lettering that announced: Evelyn A. Wright, Attorney-at-Law. Justice is my highest priority.

  Gloria opened the door and stepped inside. The receptionist recognized her immediately, confirmed Evelyn was free via an intercom system, then told the mayor's wife to go right in.

  Evelyn's dark eyes brightened when Gloria entered. Although her dark hair was pulled into a messy bun, Evelyn wore a tailor-fit skirt and jacket that looked too glamorous to be classed as business attire. Gloria knew Simone must have selected it for Evelyn who typically preferred simple shift dresses or jeans and a t-shirt even at the office.

  "Gloria," Evelyn said, standing and clasping Gloria's hand in greeting, not shaking it, just clasping. She then pointed to the chair in front of her desk.

  Gloria sat down as her keen eyes took note of the new owl figurine on Evelyn's desk. The heart-shaped face of the barn owl was a twin of the paintings that decorated the office's walls as well as the owl-shaped coffee mug perched on the credenza behind Evelyn. All the owl decor made Gloria uncomfortable. It was as if Evelyn was secretly desiring the very problem Eli might be stirring up. And even if she wasn't, she shouldn't show such things in a public place. What if someone made the connection?

  "What brings you by?" Evelyn asked.

  "You've heard about Eli?"

  "Oh, yes, John has already been spreading the word. Apparently Eli wants us all to come around to see what he's up to this evening."

  "Us all?"

  "Us," Evelyn said emphatically. "The founders of Port Athens."

  "So what should we do?"

  "We go, obviously."

  "But if he's--" Evelyn put up a hand to Gloria's complaint.

  "If he's only redecorating we would look very silly making accusations, wouldn't we? Eli's a seaman. Maybe he just wants to add a nautical flair to his home."

  "But a trident? That can't be in innocent."

  "Until he does something, we can't do anything. We set the laws when we came here. We can't start twisting them based on what ifs. Now," Evelyn said, glancing over to the owl clock on the wall, its eyes ticking back and forth with each passing second. "I've got a client coming. I'll see you tonight."

  Evelyn stood and walked with Gloria to the office door. As soon as the mayor's wife was on her way, Evelyn gathered up her purse. She had no clients coming until tomorrow afternoon, but Evelyn knew Gloria wouldn't let the Eli matter rest unless she was cut off. Plus, since Evelyn was representing Miss Dana Gold's paternity suit against Mr. Diaz, it was blurring ethical lines to be speaking professionally to Mrs. Diaz. Gloria didn't know yet about this latest affair nor her husband's newest son, and, although Mr. Diaz was proud of the tot and settling the suit without argument, his wife had a terrible temper when it came to her husband's infidelities. Which is why they'd all agreed to keep Gloria out of the loop for as long as possible.

  "I'm going for a walk," Evelyn said to her receptionist. "Need anything while I'm out?"

  "No, thanks though. Oh, that mailman popped in while you were with Mrs. Diaz. He's waiting for you outside."

  "Thanks for the warning."

  John H. Volant fell right into step with Evelyn when she emerged from her office.

  "I'm not telling you anything about anything," she said.

  "Please," he said as if insulted. "I am the eyes and ears of this town. If it happens I know about it. And that's why I'm here."

  Evelyn, knowing it irked John when people didn't instantly rise to his gossipy bait, remained silent and counted how long John could withstand it. She only got to five seconds, when he blurted, "Don't you want to know?"

  "Know what?"

  "Eli has just bought shares in a racehorse."

  "I don't want to hear any more about Eli. Do you do anything but gossip?"

  "I don't gossip. I spread the news and deliver messages." He holds up his mail sack. "Speaking of," he says, stopping in front of Grape & Grain, the combination garden and wine shop owned by Darla D. Wheaton and George D. Bock. "They haven't heard yet. See you tonight."

  Just as John entered the store, a large man with a furrowed brow exited. Evelyn tried to shrink back into a nearby alcove, but Earl A. Warren had already seen her. They dated. Once. The dinner was tasty and Earl had started off charming, but the evening ended not with dessert but with him punching the waiter for dropping a spoon. Ever since, Earl had hounded her for a second date.

  "Looks like we'll be spending the night together, Evie." He loomed over Evelyn and she cursed herself for backing into the alcove where she now felt trapped.

  "It's Evelyn, and we'll only be in the same room, not together. I'm surprised it's not you testing the waters, so to speak."

  "Me? I can start fights any time I want. That skill didn't go away when we moved here. But I approve. I mean why not? Why should we limit ourselves?"

  "Because we agreed to it."

  Earl leaned in. "What do you say we agree to having a little fun after tonight's get together."

  "I may have other matters to tend to," Evelyn said then ducked under Earl's arm.

  Chuckling to himself and loving Evie's game of hard-to-get, Earl watched the skirt hug her toned backside as she hurried away. "Yeah, she wants me," he said to himself.

  Unfortunately, Mort H. Diaz stepped up onto the sidewalk just as Evelyn passed him and blocked Earl's view. The region's coroner was a small man who reminded Earl of a rodent with a nervous condition. He made every effort to skirt around Earl and to avoid eye contact with the big man, but Earl stepped to the center of the sidewalk, his bulk filling up most of the narrow lane.

  "I really must get to my brother," Mort said, staring at his shoes. The fact that the little man was the mayor's brother was the only thing that kept Earl from picking him up and running with him like a rugby ball – something Earl often dreamed of doing.

  "How's your wife, Mort?"

  Mort's olive cheeks turned a strange shade of muddy red. He scowled and finally dared to meet Earl's eyes. For all of half a second. "It's spring now. You know she's gone away."

  Earl barked out a laugh. "You mean she ditched you. Again."

  "She spends the winters with me. It's our arrangement."

  "You ought to get out. Let your brother share some of his women. Hell, Morty, I'll take you out. There's bound to be some leftovers of mine you can play with."

  Just then Gloria strode by, eyeing the two questioningly, but not breaking her pace.

  Taking advantage of the distraction, Mort muttered, "See you this evening," and hurried off the opposite way Gloria had been headed. A few doors down, Mort stepped into the mayor's office, then paused, glancing around and wondering where the receptionist might be. He was just approaching the door to the inner office when a pert blonde girl came out, closing the door behind her as she tucked her blouse back into her skirt. She giggled when she noticed Mort, but didn't seem at all embarrassed.

  "He's all yours," she said, gesturing toward the office.

  Mort stepped up to the door and knocked.

  "Again, dear?" a booming voice called from inside. "I'm not sure--"

  The door opened and Silas Z. Diaz's face scrunched in confusion. Proving he was a politician, he instantly recovered and broke into a broad smile as he pulled open the door and stepped aside.

  "Mort, come on in." Mort entered the office. Half the cushions from office's leather couch were on the floor and the confined room reeked of sex. Mort sighed with a stab of envy until he remembered Gloria's fury whenever she found out about Silas's latest amores. "To what do I owe the pleasure? I'm not dead am I?" The mayor patted his chest and quizzically scanned himself, then burst out with a rumbling laugh.

 

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