Chapter Eight

Eight

Ricky Böndunum

Two weeks previously

Paine Harbor

If there had been railroad tracks on Paine Harbor, Ricky Böndunum was certainly born on the wrong side of them. Even as a child at Paine Harbor Grammar School he was constantly in trouble for starting fights, lighting fires in bathroom trashcans and general inappropriate behaviors. The sixth child of a single mother who loved men far too freely and without discernment, he had learned early in life if he wanted something he could just take it.

For the past two and half years, he'd been working on one of Mrs. Gourmand's fishing boats, the Wet One, serving under Captain Harley Douglas. On the day in question, they were about six miles off the northern tip of Paine Harbor in search of a school of tuna. If there was one thing Ricky was gifted for it was finding schools of fish. Considering the wind and currents, the Wet One was moving at maximum speed headed for a spot that Ricky was confident would be good fishing ground.  

Without warning a rogue wave hit the starboard side of the boat, nearly capsizing it. Captain Harley immediately began shouting out orders to the crew when a second wave hit the boat violently sending Ricky overboard. Ricky's best friend Dusty quickly threw a lifesaver to him, and miraculously he was able to grab hold of it. At the same instant, Captain Harley spun the wheel forcing the Wet One to make a hard left to port, and in so doing the rope dragged Ricky nearer and nearer to the spinning propeller. 

“No! Captain Harley, turn the other way!” Dusty screamed across the boat. “It’s going to pull Ricky into the propeller!” Depending upon whom you chose to believe, Captain Harley wasn’t able to hear Dusty, or he chose to ignore the warning and continued with the hard port turn. With a scream of terror, Ricky met up with the spinning propeller.  Moments later, he was pulled aboard the Wet One, unconscious and missing two fingers on his right hand. No one even realized what had occurred until a few minutes later they saw the pool of blood forming next to Ricky on the wooden deck.

Once he regained consciousness and came to understand what had occurred, hatred seized his heart. It was on that day Ricky determined to get even with Captain Harley and eventually with Mrs. Gourmand. “If I die trying, I'm going to get even with him. He'll long regret the day he cut off my fingers! And trust me, the old lady in black is going to pay too.” Ricky vowed.

Mrs. Penelope Gourmand

40 years earlier

Paine Harbor

“Mrs. Gourmand,” asked Patrice, her long time maid. “Is there anything I can do for you? Do you need anything at all?” 

“No, Patrice, thank you. I'm fine,” she replied. “Look at the time, why don't you go on home. I'm sure your children are in need of you.” 

“Yes, ma'am,” she replied. “But I told my husband not to expect me tonight. After all, today was your husband's funeral, and I just thought you shouldn't be alone. Oh, Mrs. Gourmand, I am so very sorry” she said breaking down in sobs.  

“I appreciate you, Patrice. But, I want you to go home. You've done so much already, and I'm grateful. Go on home and take some of this food. I couldn't eat all of these casseroles in a month. Feed your family with them,” she encouraged. “Go on, now. I'll be fine. Remember, tomorrow is your day off. I don't want to see you. I'll be just fine. I'm made of tough stock, you know.”

Sitting alone in her study, Penelope Gourmand took stock of her life. Only 27 years old, she'd been married for 7 years to a man who loved her completely. He'd been a successful businessman and left her with enough money and resources so she'd never have to work. There was but one thing he couldn’t provide; there were no little Gourmand's and now there never would be. “That's fine,” she said to herself. “I cannot bear this pain. It is too much. For the rest of my life I will grieve the loss of the one true love of my life but I will never love again. There could never be a man like my Angus.” And with this vow, she set up a new life, a life of isolation and a life focused on growing her late husband’s business interests. 

Determined to never be vulnerable to a man again, she took her destiny firmly in her well-manicured hands and began to use the resources at her disposal to build a business empire, first in Paine Harbor, but eventually expanding throughout Maine and the northern Atlantic seaboard. Initially she aimed at the growth of her fleet of fishing boats, but as time went by she added canning, foundry works, a few retail stores and a small transportation company on the mainland to her portfolio. Few people in Paine Harbor had any idea as to the scope of her business enterprises, let alone the vast amounts of her personal wealth.

Mrs. Penelope Gourmand

Present day

Paine Harbor

Mrs. Gourmand remained aloof, alone and isolated in her twenty-two-room mansion in Paine Harbor. She hosted guests only when it was absolutely necessary for business or political purposes. Instead she chose to sit alone in her parlor year after year. She could count her true friends easily: zero. Of course there were social contacts she mingled with as needed, but as to genuine friends, she had intentionally eliminated them as surely as she had rid herself of the inconvenience of love. 

Mrs. Gourmand did possess a love interest. She truly loved having power. Power over people, power over systems and the power to make her will happen. In order to facilitate this, she was willing to take certain short-cuts, using well-paid for lackeys like Sheriff Charles Byer and Mayor Johnny Sales to accomplish her objectives. While most people were aware of her manipulations, no one dared to take her on or challenge her. She held all the cards. A few had foolishly crossed swords with her over the years and paid dearly as a result. She never resorted to violence, but it was true several families had suddenly found themselves displaced from jobs and moving off the island in a rush.

Sheriff Charles Byer

Hardly an athlete, but always strong, Charles made his way through childhood in Paine Harbor by being the one people went to when they had a score to settle. He'd been involved in more street fights than anyone on the island, and so it was natural he'd pursue a career as a police officer. Unlike good cops, Charles enjoyed a scrap.

Married twice, and the father of three, Charles continually found himself short of funds. Even as a sworn officer of the law, he involved himself in extra-curricular activities, all of which enabled him to line his pockets. May years prior, after only being a police officer for a short time he was beckoned to Mrs. Gourmand's hill top mansion. It was there he found his true calling: He became her personal enforcer and made certain Mrs. Gourmand's interests were carefully protected. She put him on her unofficial payroll and he received a quite illegal and considerable monthly stipend for his efforts. 

As the Sheriff’s wallet grew, so too did his waistline. Famous in Paine Harbor for his frequent and extended visits to Portia’s Place, and rumored to never to be far away from an adult beverage, his health began declining in his early thirties. He was given a stern warning by Doc Bourbon to change his ways at his annual physical on his fortieth birthday.  

“Listen to me, Charles, I don't want to see you on the slab in the county coroners office, but I'm telling you now, that's precisely where you are headed. Sooner or later, that's where you are headed.” came Doc's no-nonsense warning. 

“Ah, c'mon, Doc,” he replied in denial, “Look at me, I'm the picture of health.”

Then came the heart attack. Less than two years ago, while out on patrol, he suffered what Doc Bourbon would call a ‘wake up’ call. A wiser man would have gotten on the straight and narrow, but instead it just made Charles angry. Only two years later at age 44 he'd been diagnosed with diabetes.  

“Do you have a death wish?” the doctor asked with a straight face. 

In fact, he did. For his entire life he'd sought the rush of adrenaline which came with fighting, driving too fast, excessive cigarette smoking and eating bad foods. In a rare moment of honesty, he confessed to his first wife after a serious accident caused by reckless driving, “It's the only time I feel alive.” 

The current Mrs. Byer lived in terror of becoming a widow at a young age, and was somewhat resigned to his eventual sudden death.  Being a wise woman see made sure her husband was well insured so she'd be set financially when, not if, he died. 

“Why are we spending so much money on life insurance?” he'd complain to her or anyone else who might listen, especially after a few beers. “I'm never going to die. I'm too tough for that.” 

The Sharp Family

Paine Harbor

The unmistakable sound of a hand slapping her face reverberated through the hallway like a clap of thunder across a valley. Reverend Axel Sharp, minister of Paine Harbor Community Church, expressed his displeasure and rage to his 16 year old adopted daughter Sarah with such sudden violence that his wife, Greta felt both shocked and utterly powerless to stop it as she cowered in the corner remembering the violent acts he had taken against her.

“Sarah! You WILL DO exactly as you are told to do, I am your Father and you will respect me!” he screamed as she ran towards the door to escape his rage. “Where do you think you are going? I'm not finished with you!” he yelled.  

Dashing across the front room of the parsonage she grabbed her coat off the rack and was out the door before the sound of his final words lost their power. “She's no good,” Reverend Sharp turned and glared at his wife saying to her coldly: “You've spoiled her. It’s your fault!”

Sarah Sharp

Sarah raced across the front yard and headed west along the street. By the time she hit the asphalt she was already nearing her peak speed. She was a gifted runner and was often seen running the paths, roads and trails of Paine Harbor. The weather, rain or dry, warm or cold, didn't stop her from running. Her gazelle-like body was long, lean and strong. Sarah was faster than anyone might expect. With tears streaming down her bright red and still stinging face, Sarah knew this run would be a long one and she dug in for the duration.  

“I hate him! Why does he have to be my father, why couldn't I have been adopted by someone else?” she cried out in anguish.

Initially she ran without a destination in mind, but after a few miles she knew where she was headed. Paine Point is a massive rock outcropping overlooking the seaward sides of the island with a sheer drop off to the rocky beach of over 250 feet. There was nothing beyond Paine Point except for thousands of miles of Atlantic Ocean. Over the past few years, Paine Point had become a refuge for Sarah. It was a place few went - especially this time of year as the seasons were shifting towards winter - and this provided her with the privacy and solitude she loved. As she approached Paine Point, she began to slow her pace. The tears had ceased and were dried to her windblown face. Sarah wasn't weary from running, but she had reached the place she wanted to be. Walking the remaining steps to the precipice of the cliff, Sarah peered over to the crashing sea and rocks far below, her mind awash in confusion, anger and darkness.

“All it would take, is one more step,” she thought. “One more step and he could never hurt me again. One more step and I'll be free of this forever. What would the Good Reverend Sharp do with that if I, his adopted daughter, committed suicide? What would he say to his pathetic little congregation? How would he handle that?” 

This wasn't the first time Sarah had found herself thinking such thoughts. In fact, as of late the frequency had only increased. Her father's fuse seemed to be shortening and his outbursts more common. She didn’t believe she could appeal to God for help. She’d become convinced God was a great deal like her father; angry, disapproving, and distant. Sarah knew her mother loved her, but even at 16 years of age she saw clearly her mother’s powerlessness over her husband. Because of her father's position of influence in the small village of Paine Harbor, Sarah didn't dare tell anyone of his actions. Her worst fear was she wouldn't be believed, or worse yet she'd be believed but no one would have the courage to do anything about it.

The wind whipped her face with salt water from the ocean below. Suddenly she discovered she was cold, wet and generally miserable.  Sarah made a decision. “He's not worth it. Somehow I'll get off this horrid island and live my own life, free from him.” With that settled, she turned away from the cliff and began to run again.

Reverend Axel Sharp

“Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect,” came the shout from the massive oak pulpit at Paine Harbor Community Church. “The Good Book makes it clear that unless you are perfect, you'll never enter into Heaven, but will be punished in the fiery pit of Hell for all of eternity! Are you perfect? Well, I'm here to say you are not. You aren't perfect so long as you watch TV, go to movies or drink alcohol. You aren't perfect if you lie, cheat or steal. You aren't perfect if you don't tithe. God's Word makes it abundantly clear, so all are without excuse on the Day of Judgment. You must be perfect!”

This was a typical message of condemnation and fear mongering which came week after week to the pitiful few who made church going a habit. Reverend Axel Sharp sees the world in black and white and in his estimation most people are horribly wicked and without the possibility of redemption. Reverend Sharp doesn't talk much about Jesus, grace, forgiveness or redemption, rather he focuses on rules, regulations, judgment and his own opinions of who is deserving of it. Grace was something to be habitually said before a meal, not the gift which creates a lifestyle of gratitude and appreciation and true freedom.

Axel grew up in a small farming town in Iceland to parents who continually struggled to bring in a sufficient harvest to provide for him and his sister. It was a bitter life, where there was never enough heat in the winter, or food in the belly. He knew the pain of going to bed with a burning hunger in his stomach. His father was a good and generous man, who loved people in word and deed. “Sally,” his father would say to a neighbor who was even more done on her luck than the Sharp family, “here's three dozen eggs, and ten pounds of flour - feed your children, you can pay me when you can.” Yet the Sharp children frequently went without food. This created a soul crushing resentment in Axel’s soul affecting every relationship he’d ever formed. Rapidly nearing age sixty he greedily clung to everything as if his life depended upon it. More than one person had secretly referred to him as 'Reverend Scrooge'.

Mrs. Greta Sharp

The powerful preacher in the pulpit mesmerized Greta. She was taken by how clever he was with words, how he used his voice to create emotional responses in the congregation and to lead them towards desired goals. She was only 17 when Reverend Sharp began to call on her, and she married him on her eighteenth birthday. Axel Sharp was forty-two.

For over twenty years, Greta served her husband well. She was a gifted pianist and dutifully played the hymns for Sunday services. Marriage proved to be considerably different than what she’d expected. As a girl, she'd romanticized what it'd be like to be married to such a man.  As a woman, she lived in a constant state of regret and sadness and felt deeply isolated. She had thought because he was a pastor he would give her love, affirmation and tenderness.  Instead she found him to be aloof, angry and easily prone to violence. While in the pulpit, Reverend Sharp was a charismatic personality, but in the confines of their home, Axel proved to be a selfish bully uninterested in his wife’s needs and dreams. Because Greta’s grief and sorrow had grown so deep and pervasive within her soul even the most upbeat hymns of faith came out of her piano sounding like funeral dirges. 

After many years of trying to have a family, the Sharp’s had finally adopted a baby girl born to a single woman on neighboring Prince Edward Island. Sarah was the one good thing coming from their marriage. As a mother, Greta doted on her daughter, desperately seeking to give her love, kindness and mercy, in spite of the fear they both lived in when Reverend Sharp came home in the afternoon. Over the years, Greta and Sarah had grown close and intimate, but to her chagrin, as Sarah enter adolescence she withdrew into herself.  Greta was frantic trying to reach her beloved daughter.

Sarah Sharp

“I hate him. I hate her. I hate everything!” she wrote in her secret diary that was hidden away where the prying eyes of a father wouldn't think to look. “I hate life. I want out. If only I wasn't so afraid, I'd kill myself.” 

Sarah intentionally dressed inappropriately, and would often sneak out late at night to meet whatever boy might have given her some positive attention at school that week. Her father would yell, scream, threaten and call her names, but all of it was ineffective only serving to help build Sarah’s walls of protection up even higher.

The truth is Sarah secretly longed for her father to gently wrap his strong arms around her, simply holding her, expressing his love and faith in her.  Sadly, she’d given up on that long ago. His coldness towards his family froze her more than standing on the fishing docks on a January night.  One evening when she couldn’t hold the tears in any longer, she confessed her confusion to her mother. “Mom, I don’t get it. What have I done wrong to make him hate me?” she choked out.

“Oh, Sarah, you know he loves you. He just doesn't know how to say it.” Greta replied in a pathetic attempt to reassure her daughter. 

“Mom, you and I both know that is a lie!” Sarah screamed in frustration. “It's a lie! He doesn't love anyone but himself and that church.”

As a young girl, Sarah had discovered the beauty of the piano. Largely self-taught, with some guidance from her mother, she’d get lost for hours in the chords, riffs and melodies of the music which came from her finger tips on the baby grand piano in the Parsonage family room. She become somewhat famous throughout the Paine Harbor community for her gifted playing, and was frequently asked to play at weddings and other celebrations. Sarah especially loved Mozart and had studied him extensively on the Internet. One weekend while her parents were out of town, she snuck away from Paine Harbor via the ferry to go to the closest movie theater on Prince Edward Island in order to see a showing of the classic movie Amadeus. She stayed in the theatre for three showings, tears running down her face, completely overwhelmed by the greatness of Mozart. 

“I’ll never be the same again,” she wrote in her diary later that. “If I could do anything in my life, it’d be to play like Mozart.”

“Sarah,” her father would disgustedly interrupt her playing, “why Mozart? Here's the Hymnal, now this is proper music. I want to hear Fanny J. Crosby, I want to hear 'How Great Thou Art' or 'There's Power in the Blood.' Enough of this pagan music!” 

In an effort to please, she'd grab the hymnal and play a few of her father's songs, but secretly longed for when he'd leave so she could play what she loved so much.  Recently she'd discovered on Pandora the music of twentieth century piano great Sergei Rachmaninoff and one of her new favorites was Van Cliburn. She tried to emulate their graceful styles and was growing increasingly dissatisfied with the sense of shame she felt for playing behind her father's back.

After her latest row with her father, the realization came to her while sitting in her bedroom window late one night, “I can't win. No matter what I do for him, it's never good enough. He is impossible.” And with that all hope for change was lost and Sarah began to plan her escape from Paine Harbor. “I don't know how,” she thought, “but somehow I'm going get off this island, either alive or dead, and I'm not sure I care which.”

Achilles Brudte

Fisherman’s Village – Paine Harbor

“Gay! As in homosexual gay?” his father screamed. “I think not! No son of mine is an effeminate swish. You'd better think again, boy!”

Achilles Brudte had just returned to Paine Harbor from his first semester at Deep Creek State University with the news he'd decided he was a homosexual. Away from home for the first time in his life and feeling deeply alone, he had been approached by a roommate, and had responded positively. The affirmation and sense of being loved he’d felt was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. “I feel important,” he’d later tell a good friend.

“Well, dad, I don't know what to say, and I knew you wouldn’t like it, but I'm gay and you need to deal with it.” Achilles said while walking out the front door, tears streaming down his face. As he crossed the yard he heard his father yell, “Then don't come back, you aren't a son of mine!” Achilles’ emotions overwhelmed him as he got in the front seat of his beat-up Camry and drove away. “I knew it. Why did I even say anything?” he said with remorse. “What’s the point?”

Driving across the island to the one place he knew he’d be accepted, he rushed through the front doors of the Gourmand mansion. “Aunt Penelope,” he sobbed as he walked into her sitting room. “I need to talk with you.” And he poured out his heart to the one woman he really trusted. 

“Achilles, your dad is angry and shocked and hurt. Give him some time to cool off. You can stay here as long as you need to, God knows there are plenty of rooms sitting empty.” she replied kindly. “I want you to know I do not approve of your choice, and I believe you'll come around over time and see it is just a youthful indiscretion. Achilles, look at me: I love you, you are my nephew and you know I don't have children of my own so I look at you like a son. We will figure this out.”

Achilles had never quite fit in with the Brudte family. Papa and his brother Ben had been on the ocean catching fish for as long as he could remember. Achilles, however, was always in the books, bringing home good grades.  He knew from boyhood he wanted to go to university and prepare to do something with his life different from the rest of the family. Papa and Mama had both told him during his junior year in High School that if he wanted to go to college, he'd better get scholarships, because they wouldn't be wasting money on school when he could be on a boat earning his living.

Achilles graduated from Paine Harbor High with a near perfect 3.95 GPA and had been offered full scholarships to several universities, finally settling on Deep Creek State University because of its strong emphasis on English Literature. From Austin to Lewis and from Shakespeare to Yeats, Achilles loved them all and could freely discuss at high levels the finer points of each. However, those discussions didn't happen in Paine Harbor but in various chat rooms, blogs and specialized Facebook groups on the Internet. One of his unspoken goals when leaving for university was that it would serve as his one-way ticket out of Paine Harbor.