Cara realizes these are the kindest words Shannon has said about Rick since their divorce. She wonders where these feelings have come from.
“
I feel like running,” Shannon says. “Do you feel like running?”
“
No,” Cara answers.
“
K. I’ll run by myself after we get back.”
Joe
I’m not feeling it this October morning. I can’t put my finger on it, but it’s just not happening. I had my coffee, I had my run, did what I normally do, but something is not quite right.
It can’t be Shannon. Not after all these weeks and hours. Yesterday I was fine, and the day before. She’s been gone for over a month now. So it can’t be Shannon. If her being gone was going to hurt, it would have hurt already, it would have hurt right away. It wouldn’t have crept up on me like this, so stealthily and without warning.
Like her it would be direct, not wasting time on subtlety or innuendo, never wasting time. She never wants to waste time. And she knows the difference between sitting by the ocean and wasting time. She understands that sitting for hours watching the ocean or the sound and doing ‘nothing’ is not wasting time. That it is as vital as sleep and that it can sustain you for a while when you’re away from the water.
No, she is direct. She didn’t see Danny when she came to her sister’s lab. Wouldn’t participate in the indirection.
I could scream at my sister for setting that up. But I can’t. Because of the father and the brother. It’s what they wanted and I more than anyone understands about respecting the wishes of those left behind who are respecting the wishes of those who have crossed over. So I can’t scream at her. But I really want to.
I miss Shannon.
I miss her every day.
Even though we were only together for a couple of hours a day for a few short days.
I miss her.
I will write her a letter. She said not to call or text or email. A letter is none of those things. I will write her a letter.
Shannon
“
Rick came to see me at work yesterday,” Shannon tells Cara.
“
I thought you put up a fence, and a guard shack?”
“
We did. He was very polite and straightforward. He went through my secretary and made an appointment and even gave her an agenda.”
“
An agenda?”
“
Yes. So that I would know what he wanted to talk about and how long it would take.”
“
What did he want to talk about?”
“
Football.”
“
Football?”
“
Yes football. And we were just talking about that last weekend at Dad’s. He saw on Facebook that John is starting at tight end this year and he wanted to know whether I thought it would be okay for him to go to a game. He said he would go to an away game, where no-one would expect to see him, and he would sit with the home team, wear a hat, and that there’s no way John would see him.”
“
Sounds like he really wants to see the kid play football,” Cara says.
“
Yes. He does. For once he didn’t ask me for anything, and didn’t really have anything else to say to me. I could tell he really wanted to go see John play and he just wanted my advice about how he could go about seeing John play football.”
“
So what did you tell him?”
“
I told him that it might be very confusing for John to see him, and that it might even upset him. But I told him that he could do whatever he wanted, whatever he thought was right, that he had divorced me, he hadn’t divorced John.”
“
That’s kinda cold,” Cara says.
“
Yeah it was. I could see that it hurt him. So I gave him an inch. I told him it was very considerate of him to ask my advice and that his plan would probably be alright. He thanked me and he left. He didn’t try to take a mile.”
“
Did you ask him if he’d been stalking you in Topsail?”
“
What?”
“
I think he was staking out our house in Topsail during the last week in July. I thought I saw him there a few times.”
“
Damn,” Shannon said. “I thought I saw something one night at my cottage.”
“
Did he say anything about that?” Cara asks.
“
No. But if he ever gets in touch with me again I am going to ask him about it. And I’ll send the security photo of him and his car and of his plates to Bill. There’s only two bridges and one ferry onto the island, and I know there are security cameras on each one. And there’s only one road up to our end of the island. So I’ll ask him to program all four of those to see whether he’s coming around.”
“
And if he is?”
“
I don’t know Cara. I don’t know.”
A Letter in
October
Dear Shannon,
It has been two months since I last saw you. In that time I have respected your request not to call, not to text, not to email. You did, however, say that I could write. And thus I am writing this letter. It’s been in the works for a week, and has now taken its final form. I don’t write a lot of letters.
I do think about you every time I run on the beach, and I think about you every time I make a cup of coffee. Since those are the two things that I do the most, clearly I think about you a lot. Now before you start thinking that I am obsessed with you or a stalker or anything, maybe I should tell you what I think about.
I think about how I should have invited you to the fundraiser, or at least told you what it was and given you the choice about whether to go. I have no idea why I was secretive about it. Maybe because Danny was going to be there and I wasn’t sure how to explain her. But that’s just an excuse. I made a mistake, and I’m sorry. I suspect there’s only one way to explain anything or anyone to you. Just tell you the facts and let you parse them for yourself.
Anyway, it has gotten cooler here in North Carolina. The sun comes up a little later and goes down a little earlier. I remember you telling me that the sun rises over the Atlantic and sets over Lake Erie. So each morning when I run I say good morning to you. I wonder if you ever say good night to me while looking out over Lake Erie?
I will have your coffee ready for you when you visit in January.
Joe
Shannon
“
What a turnout,” Cara says.
“
Yes. The people of this city are desperate for some waterfront access. And it clearly isn’t the government that’s going to give it to them. So why not me?” I say.
“
Exactly.”
Several hundred people have gathered for a cleanup day at the new park that will perch between the road and the Lake. This is the park through which Shannon will drive her golf cart or ride her bicycle to get to her new home in the Coast Guard station. Along with the crowd there are two bulldozers, several backhoes, other heavy equipment, and several dump trucks. Out in the harbor there is even a barge with a crane on it. The union bosses have already had their men working for a week removing the largest items from where the volunteers will work today. They have played none of their usual tricks and appear very happy to do for this private citizen what they were unwilling to do for the City. Of course the promise of many perpetual union jobs cleaning and guarding the park are a good incentive.
Shannon has rented a hundred shovels and a hundred rakes and ten dumpsters. She has also rented a loudspeaker. She steps up onto a picnic table and gets the attention of the group.
“
Thank you so much for coming out today to clean up this park. This is the first official meeting of the friends of Coast Guard Park, and what an excellent turnout. Thank you to the Union for sending us all this heavy equipment, and to the Coast Guard for the permit for the crane and the barge. These fine gentlemen over here are going to lead the different teams, from driftwood pickup to glass pickup to dirt moving to path construction to whatever. So thanks again, please pick a team and have fun. I will be here all day at the food tent. We have water and pop and snacks for everyone, and we’ll have hot dogs all day too. Then tonight, with all the driftwood we pull up, we’ll have an official park opening bonfire. It ought to be a day and a night to remember. I hope someone remembered to bring marshmallows for the bonfire!”
The crowd laughed and then quickly split into groups.
“
I can’t believe you’re going to get all this done in one day,” Cara says. “The City had this park for ten years and never got anything done.”
“
I’m not the City, and I don’t have the budgetary constraints of the City,” Shannon says.
“
Or the good will of the friends of Coast Guard Park,” Cara answers.
“
Or that. These people want to be able to come down to Lake Erie, and I’ve got the motive, means, and opportunity to make it happen.”
“
Amen sister.”
Throughout the day, different groups of volunteers build sand volleyball courts, put-ins for kayakers, and floating docks for jet skis. While they work, hulking steel freighters creep up and down the river. Workers stop and stare at this part of Cleveland that most people never see because they cannot approach the water. The bulldozers have moved amazing amounts of ground, building terraces and hills and hummocks. The backhoes have dragged the driftwood up from the edge of the water and have piled it in the center of a football field sized clearing. The crane on the barge has plucked enormous floating deadheads from the shore, and has pulled cars, shopping carts, stoves, and other garbage that has been dumped in the water over the years. In one day, from the sunrise over the city to the sunset over the lake, the hundred acres of urban wasteland has been transformed into a people’s park in Shannon’s backyard.
As the sun sets the workers stop to admire their work, and then to wonder over the pinks and oranges and reds of the setting sun that are best absorbed from this close to the water. This time of year the sun sets to the left of the lighthouse, out over the break wall, where legions of cormorants, ducks, herons, and geese make their homes. During the day there has been a bug hatch and biblical amounts of midges have appeared, lived their twelve hour lifecycle, and disappeared. Even while the park took shape during the day, some fishermen made their way down the causeway to the jetty and dropped their lines.
Behind all the construction sounds, and the sounds of workers building their own park, Jimmy Buffet music has played and played, making this miracle at the park feel like a carnival.
From farther down the shore, from a private marina, young kids sailing in 420 dinghies have held a regatta inside the break wall, while their older brothers and sisters and friends have held a regatta outside the break wall in their larger 470 dinghies. Catamarans have raced back and forth inside the break wall, using the flatter water and the fresh breeze to broad and beam reach at breathtaking speeds.
Jet skiers have jumped the wake of the Nautica Queen as she took out the lunch crowd, and then brought them back, and then as she took out the dinner crowd.
“
Those boaters have had access to the lake from their private clubs and on the tour ships,” Shannon says, sweeping her hand towards the lake. She turns and points at the volunteers and the others who have gathered for the bonfire. “But now all of you, and so many others will get a chance to know the lake too. Will have somewhere to walk or sit and read, somewhere to play volleyball or fish or put in your kayaks or stand up paddleboards. One of the city busses is going to make a loop to the parking lot at the edge of the park, so anyone who wants to can come here,” Shannon said.
“
I like that you are using your gifts for good,” Cara says.
“
You’re a good example to me. You could be a billionaire like me, but you stay in your lab researching cancer. You’re doing more good than I am,” Shannon answers.
“
Thanks,” Cara says. “Now let’s go have some marshmallows.”
A tired but clearly touched Shannon presides over the opening of the bonfire. She thanks all the workers and volunteers who helped. She even thanks the City officials who helped, or at least who did not stand in her way. She introduces the band that will play Calypso music and Jimmy Buffet music and even throw in a few rousing Sousa marches until the party in the new park is finished long after sunset.
At the edge of the crowd, Bill the cop and Joe’s sister and two other Friday trash pickers smile at Shannon. She didn’t know they were here. She walks over and shakes hands.
“
Thanks for coming,” Shannon says.
“
You’ve done so much for Topsail, it’s the least we could do,” Karen says.
Shannon smiles at Karen and then glares at Bill.
“
I’ve done so much for Topsail have I?” she asks Bill.
He hangs his head. “Guilty,” he says.
“
How much do they know?” she asks.