THE WATERS

By Jo

Part Nine:

That night Captain dreamed of the house in Tuscany. He was walking slowly up the long, 

curving lane that led to it, and as he got closer, he could see Letty waiting in the doorway. In 

his dream he smiled, thinking how utterly perfect that was. Now only a few steps away, she 

said, "Tomorrow" and Captain, lying in his bed in the clubhouse, replied, "Tomorrow," aloud. 

Then he was jarred by someone shaking his shoulder roughly and his father's voice, strident, 

breaking through his dream, said, "It is tomorrow, Captain. Now get on your feet and get 

dressed!" 

"Wh...what?"  He scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to make sense of what his father was 

saying. 

"Up, Son! Up now! And be damn quick about it!" 

"What's going on, father?"  He was blinking as his father pulled him into a half-seated position. 

"We're leaving. We're leaving now. Your mother wants to be on the first wagon out of here." 

"Leaving? Why? What's happened?"  Captain sat the rest of the way up on his own. 

"Scarlet fever, that's what's happened." 

"Here? Scarlet fever...here?" 

"Three cases. They're closing the club down early for the season. Everybody's leaving." 

"But...." 

"No 'but's', Son. You know your mother's parents both died of it, them and two of her sisters. 

She's nearly prostrate at the thought of it here and we must get her back to Pittsburgh. So pack. 

Pack now!"  He pulled on Captain's arm, almost dragging him out of bed. 

"I have to...." 

"There is nothing you have to do, Captain, but throw your things into a bag and help me get 

your mother on the train." 

"I can't...." 

"You listen to me, Son! Not another word out of you! Do you hear me? Your first duty is to your 

mother and me and I damn well need your help getting her out of here. You hear that noise out 

in the hall?" 

The hallway, indeed, was full of the sounds of hurrying feet, anxious voices, trunks being banged 

clumsily against the walls. "The Club's closing. Everyone is going. We're going, and we're damn 

well getting your mother on the first wagon. I've already spoken to the driver and he's waiting 

for us." He opened the wardrobe and began pulling Captain's clothing out, tossing it on the 

bed. "You get this in your bag or it will jolly well be left where it lies. I'll give you two minutes. 

No more!"  Then he left the room, slamming the door behind himself. 

Captain splashed water quickly in his face, practically throwing on the suit that lay on the top 

of the clothing heap. His shoe! Dammit! Where was his other shoe?  He fished it out from under 

the bed, jammed it on, opened the top of his suitcase and began stuffing clothes inside. He 

grabbed his shaving supplies, brush, from the bathroom, and, case tucked under his arm, went 

down the hall to his parents' room. 

"Oh, there you are, my darling boy!" his mother said, her voice with a shrill edge to it. "We have

to get you away from here. You can't get sick, not like...."

"Grab a couple of her bags," his father ordered. "The trunk's already in the wagon." Michael 

carried a large suitcase in one hand and with the other he supported his wife as they went 

downstairs.  Again Captain sat on the trunk in the back of the wagon, but this time not looking 

back toward the clubhouse, back the direction his was coming from.  His eyes were ahead, 

toward South Fork. He was hardly aware of the dam as they crossed it in the barest light 
of dawn. All he could think about was the meadow. Letty would come to the meadow. And he.... 

As the wagon pulled up near the depot, he jumped out, searching the hillside, trying to see the 

house where Letty was staying. The train was already huffing its way into the station and his 

father was calling him to come. There was no time to run high up the slope to where he could 

barely make out a corner of the house, but he couldn't just...go. He couldn't. Dashing up to 

the ticket window, he intended to leave a message for her, only then realizing he didn't know 

the name of the older couple who owned the house. A sense of desperation surged over him. 

"I need help," he said to the ticket agent. I must get word to someone. Do you see that house 
up the hill, the one kind of by itself behind the hedge, white, with a porch along the front, big 

maple to one side?" 

The agent peered over the top of his wire glasses. "You mean the O'Brien place?" 

"Are they old enough to be grandparents?" 

The agent was looking at him curiously. "Don't you know?" 

"My...the young woman I need to get a message to, she's staying with her friend's grandparents. 

Grandmother is nearly blind, I think." 

"That'd be the O'Briens." 

"Have you got a piece of paper?" He was starting to sweat. His father was bellowing for him 

from the platform. 

The agent shoved a sheet of paper toward him and he scribbled quickly, Letty...club's closing...

scarlet fever scare. Have to get my mother back to the city. I'll find another tomorrow. I 

promise. Captain  He folded it, wrote Letty Flynn in large letters across it and handed it back to 

the agent. 

"If you can find somebody, anybody, who's going up that way this morning, I'll be forever 

grateful if you can get them to take this up to the O'Brien house." He pulled a few bills out, 

pressing them into the agent's hand then sprinted for the platform. 

The train was already moving. Michael Stuart stood on the bottom step watching his son run 

along the platform, then reached out an arm, grabbing Captain's and helping to pull him up. 

"Where the hell have you been? Fine lot of help you've been. I've had to get your mother seated 

then leave her alone to chase down where you were. She's worrying herself that you might have

been exposed to the fever. Have you no sense of responsibility at all?" He frowned severely at 

Captain then turned to go back to where Emily was sitting. 

Captain flopped into the seat facing them, looking dejectedly out the window. Michael, studying 

him, pressed his lips together. He adored his son, but sometimes the boy was simply beyond his 

understanding. "I didn't think you'd mind leaving the lake." 

"I don't mind leaving the lake."  No, it wasn't the lake. 

"Well, then, buck up! We'll be back in the city in a couple of hours. Why, you might even be 

able to start work a week earlier now. Knox is on the train, too. That will be fine, just fine. Get 

you going on something of importance, take your mind off those travel fancies of yours."  

The train pulled into the Johnstown station and it was all Captain could do not to get up and 

jump off the damned thing. He looked out the window at the town with a great deal more 

interest than he had just a few days earlier. Her house was there somewhere. Of course she was 

still fifteen miles back up the valley, but still, this was her town, where she'd be coming in a few 

days. The whistle sounded and he sighed as the train continued on toward Pittsburgh. 

Letty hadn't slept well. As good as it had been to see her family again, she carried this pall with 

her, worried about Captain coming to the meadow and not finding her there. She leaned on her 

windowsill, her eyes unseeing, lost in miserable thoughts. The whistle of the morning westbound 

train startled her and she focused on the line of passenger cars as they rumbled toward the stone 

bridge. Just over another week and Captain would be on a train like that, heading back to his 

home, his new job, leaving the lake and the Club behind, leaving her. She hadn't even gotten to 

say good-bye. Burying her face in her arms as tears began, she whispered, "Oh, Captain. There 

was no tomorrow."  

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