THE WATERS

By Jo

Part Nineteen:

"George!" Erin announced.

"George?" Captain asked.

"Yes. George Washington Camel."

"Ah, the father of the desert, I presume."

"Well, all you have to do is look at him to know he's a very important camel."

Captain took the floppy, stuffed camel in his hands, looking at it closely. "He does have a certain, um, dignity about him. It must be the button eyes." He handed George back to Erin.

"So you like him, then?"

"I love him! He's going to go everywhere I go...always."

"Even into the bath?"

"Well, maybe not there. But everywhere else. And right now I'm going to use my new pencils and draw his portrait."

"A good idea. A camel named George Washington Camel should definitely have his portrait done."

Erin got down on the floor with her new art box and was soon intent on what she was doing. Patrick was running his fingertips back and forth across the buttery leather binding of the ledger Captain had given him. It was the softest, finest leather he'd ever touched.

It had been a good day, a great day, from the moment Captain had awakened in his bed at the hotel. He'd just lain there for a while, a huge smile on his face. Christmas. Christmas with the Flynns. And only the first of many.  He'd paused at the second floor door to reach out and touch the big holly wreath with its red bow that Letty had made and hung outside. A sharp bit of holly had pricked his forefinger and a drop of blood had fallen onto the frosty, white landing. He looked down at it, watching its warmth melt the little ice crystals, and even that made him happy. Johnstown had gotten in his blood and as he looked down, he found the drop a symbol

of how the very blood of him was now a part of this place.

He sat beside Letty on the sofa as she began to open the first of the boxes he had for her. It was the necklace and she held it up, letting the heart-shaped pendant dangle from her fingers. "It's an open heart," she whispered.

The heart was, indeed, a shape with no center. She rested it on the palm of her left hand, touching the opening with her forefinger then looking into his eyes.

"It's how my heart is, Letty. You've opened it wide and filled it with yourself."
 

"And the pearls?"

"Because of your ring, and because I am the heart and you are the pearls and you give

definition to my horizons." He lifted it, undoing the clasp, and turned so he could fasten it around her neck.

When it was in place, she lay her right hand over it, holding it there a while. "I love you, Captain Stuart."

"I know," he smiled.

She opened the box with the long, delicate scarf, letting it slide through her fingers like liquid silk. "Open this one from me. It...it's, well...you'll see."

It was a man's scarf, a medium blue with some navy striping. "You made it?"

She nodded. "It's not fine like this," she touched the rose-patterned one, "but I wanted you to have something I'd made myself."

"It's much finer than anything store-bought, Letty, more special because it came from your hands. And it goes perfectly with my new overcoat!"  He draped it around his neck.

She was already opening the other present from him, the portrait of himself. It was framed in a simple, dark oak frame and she held it, staring at it.

"I know it's, um, different. I told the photographer I didn't want all of me just sitting in a chair and I wanted to be smiling. But I couldn't smile with my mouth open as long as he needed me to sit so after I'd ruined a couple of attempts, we ended up with this. I was thinking of you. I wanted you to be able to see I was thinking of you. Is it all right?"



"It's...you!"

"It's kind of funny, I know, but...."

"You almost look like you're about to laugh. I've never seen a portrait with such feeling in it. I don't know how you managed...but I love it! I love having it. Now when you're not with me, I

can look at it and there you are."

"He took a serious one, too, with my suit coat on, but I thought this was the better one, better

for you. The other one was rather stuffy. I didn't want you to think of me like that."

"There's nothing stuffy about you. This is definitely how I like to think of you."

She handed him another box. "A book? Ah, let's see what you've chosen."  It was Tennyson's The Idylls of the King, a beautiful leather-bound copy with lots of gold scroll-work. 

"I...it just...I thought...."

"Perfect," he said. "Tennyson is a great favorite and I didn't have my own copy of this." He flipped it open and the pages parted to a woodcut of the Lady of the Lake carrying Arthur

as a baby.

"Oooo...let me see!" Erin cried. "Is it an angel?"

"Not an angel, not really, but a magical lady who watches over him."

"Look at her hair!  I wish my hair was like that. Can I hold the book?" She wanted to see the other pictures.

Letty looked at Captain, who nodded. "Just be very, very careful, Erin, and don't tear the

pages, all right," she said, a bit worried.

"I'll sit right here on the sofa, Letty, and I'll be really careful. I promise."

Captain watched her looking through the book and that in itself, for him, was a present. Then

he noticed the bows from his gifts lying on the couch just past Letty, reached across her, picked up the largest one and plopped it atop his head. "One more present," he grinned, "and you said you'd like it with a bow."

"That's true," she smiled, "I did say that. So this is, um, for me?"

"For you, definitely." He leaned really close to her, putting his mouth against her ear. "And

you can unwrap it on June first."

"Oh!" Letty said, her eyes widening. Then she began to chuckle.

"What did you whisper?" Erin asked.

"It's a secret," Letty replied.

"That's not fair to have secrets on Christmas Day!" Erin protested.

"Some secrets are fair, Erin, especially on Christmas Day," Captain smiled, his eyes twinkling.

"No, it's not!" she said, glowering at him but unable to maintain it, dissolving into giggles. She reached down, picked up something and handed it toward him. It was a piece of yellow paper

all rolled up.

"What's this?" he asked.

"It's for you, even though you don't deserve it."

"I'll try to do better from now on," he smiled. Slowly he unrolled it. "George?"

"Of course it's George! How many camels do you know with button eyes?"

"Um, I do believe George is the only one."  He studied the paper. There was George, standing

by what was possibly a palm tree but looked more like a squashed green and brown spider. In front of George was a stick figure with brown spiky hair. "Me?"

"Who else would be holding George's leash?"

The spiky-haired man was holding the hand of another figure with straight, bright orange hair. "Letty?" Erin nodded. His other hand held onto that of a much smaller figure with an enormous head, lopsided eyes, and a mass of red hair. "And this must be you."  This person's hand was linked with a man who had to be Papa, and Papa was holding the hand of a figure with a large amount of white, scribbly hair, above which was a yellow blob. Captain pointed to the blob.
"And what's this?"

"It's Grandma'am's halo."

"Ah, yes, Grandma'am would definitely have a halo," he agreed.

"She told me she hears the angels singing sometimes," Erin said, "and that soon they will sing her home."

Captain glanced quickly at Letty, who was blinking back sudden tears, and covered her hand with his own.

"I want the angels to sing me home, too."

"That would be lovely, Erin, but not for a long, long time. Right now what you need to hear is the swans singing in the park."

"Do you think Ooblueah can sing?"

"I have no doubt she sings better than all the other fountain swans."  He saw the single little wrapped box still left and picked it up. "And speaking of Grandma'am, I think it's time I should give her her present, too."

Letty followed him down the hallway, where he stopped in Maureen's doorway. "Happy Christmas," he said.

"I heard sounds of laughing coming from the parlor. It's good to laugh on Christmas with the family."  She held out her left hand toward him. "With all the family."

Captain came and sat on the edge of her bed, taking her hand, kissing it as he always did, then turning it over and placing the small box in her palm. She pulled her hand in close to herself, just looking down at the present for a while, her hand shaking in that way she just couldn't seem to stop these days. It was wrapped in pale green paper with a bow larger than the box itself. The bow was off-center and a bit crooked and she knew he'd wrapped it himself and that somehow meant a lot to her. Slowly she undid the ribbon, loosed the paper, setting them carefully to one side. She opened the lid of the white box and inside lay the brooch, resting on a bit of golden velvet. Lifting the brooch out, she looked at it silently for a long time. The shamrock was made

of enamel on a gold backing and had gold wire edging around it. With a fingertip, she stroked one of the leaves, feeling the smoothness of the enamel, then she turned it over to look at the clasp. He'd had something engraved there for her and her eyes filled with tears.

"Are you all right, Grandma'am?" Letty asked.

"Read it, darling," Maureen said, handing her the brooch.

"And until we meet again, may the Lord hold you in the palm of His hand."  She had to blink

back her own sudden tears, knowing how much her grandmother loved the old Irish blessing. She passed the brooch back to her grandmother and let her hand come to rest on Captain's shoulder, squeezing slightly.

Maureen motioned for Captain to lean forward and when he did, she kissed his cheek. "You have blessed me today, my Captain, me and my house."

"Would you like me to pin it on your shawl?" Letty asked.

"No, I just want to hold it for a while."

ON TO PART 20

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