Chapter Two

Two

Paine Harbor, Maine

Present Day

Paine Harbor is a tiny fishing town, inconsequential and unknown. They say the fog never lifts in Paine Harbor but when it does, it is usually to usher in snow or blinding rain. Even summer is cold, wet and brief.Completely unlike one of those adorable little eastern seaboard towns you'd see on Martha's Vineyard Island off the coast of Cape Cod, Paine Harbor is a harsh, brutal and extremely difficult place to live.

It is a place for strong men and women who know how to work. The climate is brutal and its people even tougher. The fishermen rise long before dawn and battle rough and boisterous seas in their hunt for the vast schools of fish living off the shores of Maine. Every family in Paine Harbor has lost at least one or two loved ones to the sea. One entire wall in the Paine Harbor Community Center is covered with photographs of the men and boys of the town who had drowned in an unforgiving ocean. The average life expectancy in Paine Harbor is nearly 14 years less than on the mainland, simply because of the harshness of the seas and of the kind of work the people are engaged in.

Even with the immense wealth of fish contained in the Northern Atlantic Ocean, the best the people of Paine Harbor can do is to eke out modest lives. A constant complaint amongst the fishermen is the mainland is too hard to get to in order to sell the fish at a good price. As a result, the people live humbly, in tiny little cottages with minimal creature comforts. Some families do not have indoor plumbing even though, oddly enough, the cellular reception is excellent on the island. 

No one gets to Paine Harbor by chance. It is on an island and the only way in or out is via the Paine Harbor Ferry running twice daily during the week and only once on Saturday and Sunday. A few years ago there was some talk about building a small landing strip on the north side of the island, but nothing ever came of it.

You won't hear much music or laughter coming out of the one watering hole in Paine Harbor, a grimy diner and bar called Portia’s Place. It’s far more likely to hear the sound of arguments and angry shouts between men who know how to fight and aren't afraid to do so at nearly any slight or offense, especially on Friday and Saturday evenings when the liquor has been flowing. Other than the Community Center and a couple of small churches, Portia’s Place is virtually the only place for people to meet up and interact on a social basis. On any given weekend night, nearly every adult in town could be found there.

Niels

Paine Harbor

Late September

The agony erupted in his stomach and woke him from a deep but restless sleep. Niels awoke in pain. Probably the most isolated person living in Paine Harbor, Niels kept to himself, living alone in an old fisherman's shack at the edge of town. The stomach pain had been on the increase, and although he kept himself well supplied with various antacids, he'd noticed he was taking more and it didn't seem to make a difference.

Niels had lived in Paine Harbor as long as anyone in town could remember. Alone, isolated and like one of those characters which might show up in a Stephen King novel, he walked with a strange gait, not dissimilar to the android character C3P0 from the Star Wars films. This gave the town children ample reason to make fun of Niels, but only from a safe distance. Oddly enough, Niels was the man much of the fishing fleet went to when one of their electronic fish-finders stopped working. Possessing a gift for repairing electronics – everything from old TV sets to GPS systems - Niels intuitively knew how to fix what was broken. No one knew precisely how he did it, but it was rare he couldn't get a broken unit working again. He didn't talk much. Mostly he grunted and used body language to communicate what he wanted.

Niels is short, stocky and as strong as an ox. His physical appearance did nothing to draw people to him. His tightly curled hair, large ears and protruding nose were often the first things people noticed about him, that is, until they saw his eyes. With piercing blue eyes seeming to glow with intensity, they were so unique that in spite of his other unfortunate physical characteristics, people were frequently tempted to stare at this unique man.

Doctor Bourbon knew better than to pepper him with probing questions about his stomach problems. “Niels,” he said. “I want you to take this medication every day, whether it hurts or not. Stop taking the antacids. They aren’t helping you.” Holding the medication in his hand, and pointing to him with his other hand, the doctor said, “Before you go to bed. One pill. Do you understand?”

Niels nodded in agreement, getting out his wallet he looked into the eyes of the doctor with a questioning look. “Don't worry about it, Niels,” Doctor Bourbon said. “No charge.”

He looked at Doctor Bourbon with appreciation.  Suddenly an idea came to him, grabbing the doctor's coat sleeve, he pulled him out to his front office. Motioning to the office computers, he made a sign of something being broken and then pointing to himself, he said one word. “Fix.”

“I understand.” Doctor Bourbon said in kindness, “But I already have an I.T. guy. It's okay. Really it is.”

Niels shook his head in sadness, desperately looking around the office for something he could do to repay the doctor.

“I tell you what,” the doctor said. “Come to my house Saturday, I know I have a couple of old kitchen appliances my wife wants fixed. Is 9am okay?”

His face lit up with happiness, and he nodded in agreement. “9am. Saturday. Fix,” he said and walked out of the office, prescription bottle in hand.