Chapter 5
After lunch we loaded the tools and the paint on Jack’s truck and we headed to the shack where Fred kept his sailboat. I felt there was a tension in the air, something unsaid, and Jack’s silence felt different from usual. The boat was covered with a dark plastic sheet, which was cracked here and there and was caked with sand and dust as if it hadn’t been touched for a long while. Jack stood there, holding the bucket of paint, looking at it. I caught Fred leaning on the door of the truck with the toolbox in his hands, observing Jack from a distance. I approached Jack and when I spoke to ask him if it was long since the boat had been used he started, as if he had forgotten that someone else was there. It would have been two years in a month and a half, he replied, and the way the answer had been phrased, the accuracy of it, surprised me and I was sure there was something with this boat only Fred and jack knew. I nodded, and waited for Jack to decide what to do next. He seemed confused though, and in the uncertainty he kept where he was, with the bucket in his hands, until Fred touched his shoulder from the back and said, “Come on lad, let’s get started”.
When Fred removed the cover I noticed that the tree was cracked and that some of the wood on the keel was also damaged. We worked till dusk patching the wood, and by the time we finished putting fresh paint on the boat I was so hungry my stomach hurt and my back was sour from being bent for hours. I let myself lie on the sand, still warm from the day’s sun, and rapidly slipped in the limbo between sleep and wake, losing track of time, while Jack and Fred reloaded the truck. It must have been just a few minutes later when Jack kneeled beside me and gently touched my back, whispering that it was time to go.
“I don’t want to”, I said, “just let me stay a bit longer”.
Jack laughed, and began lifting my arm. I was still sleepy as the car made its way back to Fred’s house, and I could feel the dirt sticking on the sweat that had turned dry and cold. Fred looked at me from the rear mirror.
“Maybe you guys should just spend the night here and head back tomorrow morning”, he said.
Jack turned around and I smiled, trying to look very much awake. He shook his head laughing and said we would probably accept the offer.
When we got home Fred’s wife was there, and the house was filled with a smell of roasted mushrooms that made me salivate as soon as we opened the door.
“Ah, it was about time!”, she yelled from the kitchen when she heard the door open.
She hugged Jack and then studied me briefly, before tending me her chubby hand and smiling maternally.
“You must be hungry”, she told us and was pleased by my answer when I replied I was starving.
She let us wash rapidly before hurrying us to the table, which she had set up so that it was a pleasure to the eye, with the food beautifully arranged, the flowery tablecloth and the artsy dishes. The shower and the food did me good, and brushed off the weariness of the day. Anita was a small, rounded lady, whose chatter compensated the minimalistic style of the conversation her husband, Jack and I used to have when she was not around. She was younger than Fred and was still working as a Spanish and French teacher, as she told me, before asking me what I was doing in life. I intended my answer to be brief, but ended up going into much detail. For some reason Fred was intrigued by what I did, and started asking questions when his wife’s attention had begun sliding away.
Jack listened without speaking, but at the end he said, “So, this is what you do”.
I had never told him much about it because I didn’t believe it mattered to him. When I said so he asked why, looking hurt.
After dinner we sat in the living room, chatting for a while longer, while the cats cuddled one on Anita’s lap, the other on the back of the easy chair where she was sitting. But soon I begun feeling dizzy, and I was relieved when Fred said that he would call it a day and head to bed. There was only one guest room in the house and I shared the bed with Jack. We had never shared a bed before, but that night I was too tired to wonder if it was a strange thing to do so.
Before falling asleep I asked, “Why were you offended before?”
“Offended?”.
“Offended that I said I didn’t think you cared to know the details about my job”, I explained, although I was sure he knew what I was referring to.
“Fred was my PhD advisor, you know? But why don’t we just go to sleep now, it’s been a long day”, he said.
I was suddenly awake, but I knew that Jack needed time before he could tell me more.
“Good night Jack”, I told him, and fell asleep shortly after, feeling so very happy to be there.