Chapter 47: Letting Go

Chapter 47: Letting Go

Samantha realized two minutes after the fishing boat left the harbor she’d made a terrible mistake. On the Primrose, concerned with manning the oars and finding the mainland, she had resisted seasickness. On Mr. Pryde’s fishing boat, with nothing to do but feel the craft toss from side to side, her stomach began to churn.

She should have stayed on the dock to keep Prudence company until they returned with the Primrose. She sat on a toolbox at the rear of the boat, pressing a hand to her face to ward off the stench of dead fish mixed with diesel fuel threatening to suffocate her. As she suffered, Wendell stood with Mr. Pryde in the wheelhouse, pestering Mr. Pryde with questions about how the boat worked. Joseph worked at unknotting several lengths of rope they might need to haul the Primrose off the beach. He glanced over at her from time to time without saying anything.

She put down her hand and tried to smile at him, but a moment later grimaced from the rocking of the boat. “Do you want to go back?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” she said. “I just need to get my sea legs.”

“It takes a little getting used to,” Joseph said. “I threw up the first time Mom let me go with Dad on the boat.” Samantha’s stomach tightened at this. Joseph’s face turned red. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It helps if you close your eyes and take some deep breaths. Pretend you’re in a bathtub at home.”

Samantha closed her eyes and tried to imagine a peaceful bathtub. Instead, she thought of the stream her first morning in Eternity. The current took hold of her and sent her careening away until Prudence managed to snatch a handful of Samantha’s hair and haul her up to the surface. She shivered at this memory and then thought of the native canoe she’d taken out during the storm four years ago. A wave that blotted out the sky crashed down upon her tiny vessel, shattering it and pressing her down to the bottom of the sea. She opened her eyes and leaned over the side to throw up.

Joseph came over, brushing hair away from her face. “It’s all right,” he said. “Try to relax. Don’t think about—”

Samantha whirled around, shoving Joseph away. He collapsed onto a pile of netting. “Quit telling me what to do!” she said. “I can take care of myself.”

“I’m sorry,” Joseph said. His face turned redder. He scuttled away to the bow for the rest of the trip to the beach. Samantha sat back down on the toolbox, her nausea replaced by anger. This Joseph wasn’t much better than the one who’d hit her and nearly killed her, Prudence, and Wendell. He still thought he could control her. She’d agreed to give him a second chance, but now she knew it was a mistake.

As the fishing boat neared the beach, Mr. Pryde came out of the wheelhouse. “We’ll be there in a minute. Wendell and I will take your boat. You and Joseph can follow us if there’s any trouble,” he said.

“I’d rather go with you guys,” Samantha said.

Mr. Pryde shook his head. “I don’t want to leave Joey alone right now. He’s not a hundred percent yet. Neither are you from the looks of it.”

“I’m fine. Leave Wendell here. I’m sure he’d be a lot happier on this boat,” she said.

“I ain’t asking you,” Mr. Pryde said. “I’m telling you the way it’s going to be.”

Now Samantha could see from where Joseph got his bossiness. “If that’s what you want. I’ll stay here with Joe.” Mr. Pryde nodded and lit a cigarette before going back into the wheelhouse. Samantha folded her arms across her chest, determined not to move from this spot. She didn’t want to get anywhere near Joseph.

Wendell and Mr. Pryde jumped down from the fishing boat, splashing over to the beach where the Primrose waited. Samantha got up from her perch to toss them a line. Joseph materialized next to her, throwing another rope to his father. “I’m sorry about earlier,” Joseph said. “I was trying to help. I don’t suppose you would need my help.”

His lip trembled as if he would cry. This was not the same Joseph who’d hit her. This was a caring, sensitive boy who’d tried to help her and she’d hurt him for his kindness. “I’m the one who should be sorry,” she said. “You were being nice.”

They fastened the lines to the fishing boat and then waited for Wendell and Mr. Pryde to signal they were ready. Samantha slipped her hand over to touch Joseph’s. His skin felt much softer now, his hands narrow and delicate like a girl’s. This was not the vicious brute who would have killed her in Pinecrest. “You are nice,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. His smooth cheek turned warm at her touch.

“You are too,” he said, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat before asking, “Do you want to try driving the boat? It’s not too different than a car. You don’t have to. I just thought maybe—”

She put a finger to his lips. “I’d love to,” she said. She followed him into the wheelhouse, where he showed her the controls. At first she pulled the throttle too hard; Joseph put his hand on hers to show her the proper way.

“You want to be gentle. This is a really old boat. Take it nice and slow,” he said.

“I can do nice and slow.” She turned her head to meet his lips with hers. She kept a hand on the throttle and he a hand on the steering wheel as the boat plowed forward through the waves with the Primrose in tow.

#

After Mr. Pryde severed the lines, he and Wendell took up the oars to get the Primrose underway. Wendell squinted to make out Samantha and Joseph, but he couldn’t see anything. When he strained his ears, he thought he could hear laughter over the oars and fishing boat’s diesel engine.

“This is a mighty fine boat,” Mr. Pryde said. “I knew the Amish made furniture and barns. I didn’t know they made boats.”

“It’s not that hard,” Wendell said. He considered telling Mr. Pryde about how he’d drawn the Primrose’s design in less than two hours, but thought better of it. Mr. Pryde would never believe an eleven-year-old had designed a boat like this.

“You don’t need to worry about them,” Mr. Pryde said, looking over his shoulder at the fishing boat. “Joey’s been driving that tub since he was in diapers.”

Wendell nodded. He wasn’t worried about Joseph’s sailing abilities. He thought of Joseph on the boat alone with Samantha, the two of them laughing and talking like old friends. After everything that had happened, how could she still care about him? He’d nearly killed her!

“She’ll be fine,” Mr. Pryde said. He put down the oars, reaching up to unfurl the patchwork sail Prudence and Rebecca had made. The thought of Prudence made Wendell’s stomach tighten with guilt.

“Mr. Pryde, have you ever cared about two girls and even though you know one is really great and the other doesn’t care about you at all, you can’t stop thinking about her?” Wendell said, following the grain of the wood on the deck to keep from meeting Mr. Pryde’s eyes.

“You got to let her go,” Mr. Pryde said. He flicked his cigarette into the water and then lit another one. “You got to move on. There’s a nice gal waiting for you on the dock. I wouldn’t let her go to chase after one who ain’t ever going to take notice of you.”

“Prudence is great,” Wendell said before he could stop himself. “But I can’t just forget about Samantha. I love her.”

“Sometimes we got to let go of the ones we love. Took me nine years to figure that out.” Mr. Pryde spat out the cigarette, snuffing it out with unnecessary force. “We’re almost there. Get ready with those oars.”

From this, Wendell knew the conversation was over. He had to admit Mr. Pryde was right. Samantha would never see him the same way he saw her. She would never love him. He thought of kissing childish little Samantha in his nightmare. That was as close as he could ever get to her.

As they reached the dock, he saw Prudence waving to them with her good hand. He waved back. He leapt from the Primrose onto the dock, racing up to her. She wrapped her arm around him, pressing him close. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing’s wrong. Not anymore,” he said. As Mr. Pryde said, it was time to let go of Samantha and focus on the girl who loved him and whom he loved.