Against the Wind

Note from the author: Hi again everyone. I thought I would give storytelling one more try. Back with a contemporary setting this time, using some adapted memories from my youth. I hope you all have a good read.

**** CVPH Plastic Surgery, Reconstructive & Hand Surgery ****

"All right, Noel, enough showing off... it's obvious your left hand has fully regained its motility." Noel Crawford kept on performing his lacrosse stick drill for a couple of seconds, then put the ball and stick down on the floor of the examination room. It had been his idea, to speed up his post-operation recovery, to take up lacrosse training again, and he had taken the habit of making demonstrations of his progress to the medical staff, during his last four visits.

"Yeaa... it really feels good as new, Christina. Please thank again Dr. Mataresse, will you? I'm a little amazed it came about so good."

"You know I will." Christina Thomas replied, matter-of-factly, while finishing her report of this last visit. She closed the folder, looked up at her patient, as if seeing him for the first time, and harbored a faint smile. "Well, Noel, this is it... ready to take on the world once again? I can't believe it's been seven months already..."

"Yup... truth be told, Christina, I'm almost going to miss coming here. To answer your question, I'm getting ready, I suppose, but I'm not quite there yet. The gang at Planning have been super supportive and don't expect me for at least two more months, until after the summer holiday period... so I guess it will depend on how your report is received by the health care provider on that front. The house is almost totally refurbished and I think the only smell of sooth that remains is in my head..." That admission, in front of a health care worker no less, gave Noel pause.

"Have you visited your dad recently?" No one but Christina would dare bring up, point-blank, the subject of retired Capt. James Crawford, SAC, and also former ward 6 councilor of the city of Plattsburgh, NY. But since his admission after the fire, she had been at Noel's side through thick and thin, she had shivered at his cries of pain and been his sole source of hope and perseverance. She knew him enough to get away with it and cared enough to know the subject must not be avoided.

"Yes, actually... I went to talk to him after I renamed her, two weeks ago. I still feel surprised every time I see the grave site. Whoever took care of the details did a truly fantastic job..."

"Your father was a very close friend of the community, and you had more urgent matters to deal with, stop beating yourself up with the funeral."

"Yes... you're right, Christina, as always... and I'm glad his love, his real love, of Plattsburgh yielded some dividend in the end." Noel said this without a trace of envy or spite. Quite the opposite, he knew he should quickly change the subject lest a nostalgic surge take him over and make him sob in front of the one person he wanted to be strong for. Plus, despite the fact he had carefully omitted that he relives the fire - and the injuries he sustained during his failed attempt at rescuing his father from the burning kitchen - every night in his sleep, he somehow suspected Christina of fully knowing about his wounded psyche. "So, want to know what name I gave her?"

"What did you rename the family sailboat, Noel?"

"Frenchie's Appeal"

"That... is not a name one must hear often on channel 16..." was all a perplexed Christina could reply. "Well, I must say you must be made of strong stuff: lost father, lost house, almost lost left hand and you seem to be on the verge of having conquered all. It has been a privilege knowing you, Noel, and I wish you all the best. I will, in fact, miss you." Christina, seeing the hour, had risen from her chair and was about to show him out, for the last time.

Noel was picking up his lacrosse gear and suddenly began to ramble nervously. "Wait... before I go, and since I am officially no longer a patient, I have a favor to ask you. That is, since E-VE-RY time I have come here, you have said you had no plans for your week-end. And I trust you implicitly and I hope the reverse is true. Maybe it's a huge favor to ask, maybe it's no big deal... anyway, this week-end I'm taking her out for the first time and I was wondering if maybe you would like to come aboard."

"Noel, I'm flattered, but I don't think this is proper. Plus, I... don't date. Don't you have friends to bring along?"

"Wow... that's a hell of a topic for a later discussion, but it's beside the point. Who said anything about a date? Dad and I never kept her to ourselves; we had friends aboard all the time; his or mine. Frankly, it would feel weird to invite one of his former cronies and as for my friends... well, I'm at this point in my life where fate separates us, surely you've been there..." Christina nodded silently, as she indeed had been 21 once... 13 years ago. "...and I would really like a friend with me... to dispel the ghosts." Now he was about to lose it.

(Stop whining, you dweeb!)

"Look, let's not even make it a week-end, just a Saturday shakedown cruise... a couple of tacks on the lake then I get you back to your karate lessons and your garden. Please, Christina, you must be the only person in Plattsburgh who has never been to the Boat Basin and I know you're interested... I mean, why else would you remember all my drivel about radio procedures?" Despite the fact he was reliving his painful sessions of peeling dead tissue, during which Christina had suggested he teach her something as a distraction, he managed a wry smile.

(For an architect, he certainly has a vendor's charm... gosh, can I really do this?)

"Tell you what, Noel. This is still against my better judgment, but I will seek advice and, IF I agree to a Saturday excursion, I will call you. I have all your coordinates and I have other patients to attend to. Remember, no promises and no pressure."

"Fair enough, Christina. Thanks in advance and see you soon, I hope..." Noel was quite pleased with himself and elated as he left the office and the hospital unit, hopefully never to come back.

**** Plattsburgh Boat Basin ****

It was a beautiful June Saturday morning at the Plattsburgh Boat Basin and Christina could feel both the sun and the gentle southwesterly breeze caress her face from the moment she stepped out of her car. However, she was feeling a little foolish for neglecting to ask details about Noel's boat and worried about wandering the piers aimlessly. To her relief, she instantly heard a joyous yell. "Ahoy there! Glad you could make it!" Noel was waving at her, his smile visible from the distance. He was in the process of removing the mainsail cover when she arrived.

After quickly getting the feel for walking on the docks, she proceeded towards Noel and the boat, taking in the view on the way. Noel was a smudge taller than she was, about 5ft. 11in., and was lean... not heavily muscled, but obviously quite fit. He was wearing sunglasses and a brown tricorne - obviously a holdover from his youth - over his brown hair. He was also wearing light tan pants and a long sleeve white shirt, which she found odd, considering the weather. The sailboat was a splendid white fiberglass sloop with teak wood deck ornaments and a sky blue double racing line motif painted on the hull. The next detail to capture her imagination was the sound: the unique hymn of overlapping flags and halyards, flapping in the wind, that so defines a sailboat marina.

"Milady, you are the most radiant siren to ever grace this ship. Welcome aboard!" He helped her climb aboard and Christina wished she could decipher his hidden gaze, as she still had minor misgivings about the excursion. But, between the "Get a life" unanimous advice of her colleagues, the thrill she felt upon hearing the happiness in Noel's voice when she called and the fact that, indeed, she WAS interested in sailing, her reservations had faded quickly.

Noel, on the other hand, was having a dreadful time keeping his excitement in check. Tall, with an elegant, chiseled face adorned with her nappy black hair cut elegantly short and with every muscle of her arms, abdomen, thighs and legs sculpted by five years of biweekly karate training, Christina Thomas would be, in any circumstance, a devastatingly beautiful ebony vixen. Today, with her smile outshining this June sun and clad with red beach apparel which gave an enticing suggestion of her voluptuous figure, she was nothing short of mesmerizing and Noel was thankful to use the boat as an excuse for his unsteadiness.

"Do you have any luggage left in your car?"

"No thank you, I packed very little... same-day excursion, remember?"

"Of course! Tell you what... why don't you get settled near the rudder and choose a comfortable lifejacket for you to wear. Oh, and... THE one rule for moving about on a boat is One hand for the boat, One hand for yourself... use the rail handles or the lifelines. I'll start the engine and see about casting off."

"You're that anxious to leave port?"

"Christina, the hull speed of this cruising lady is 6.8 knots, which is just a hair under 8 mph. Lake Champlain is 163 miles long by up to 14 miles wide. Believe me, we will have PLENTY of time to enjoy this amazing day, and merrily go nowhere doing it!" Christina chuckled. Both for the trivia and this relaxed attitude she had never seen before in Noel. He was no youngster seeking to impress; here, he was captain of his ship, and reveling in his element. And he always seemed to keep her somewhat off-balance; proof in point: just after making sure the engine was purring smoothly, he suddenly asked "Christina, do you want to participate? You could take the rudder or cast off the lines..." She managed to keep it to herself, but she was startled.

"You would let me drive your boat?"

"Of course I will let you pilot her. Implicit trust, remember? It also helps that she is a forgiving lady."

"You know what? For this first time, would you mind terribly doing it without me? Sorry Noel, but this is a bit overwhelming..."

His smile never faltered in the slightest. "All right, just sit and relax right here... so I can take the rudder when I'm back aboard." She was astounded by his assurance and his... sheer joy. She could swear she was hearing a musical tone in every one of his sentences.

Noel cast off the lines, climbed aboard and slowly took Frenchie's Appeal out of the basin. While they were still behind the protection of the breakwater, Noel showed Christina how to handle the rudder, operate the engine and use the 2-speed winches. He then asked her to sit on the starboard side and ceded her the helm. Without waiting for her reaction, he went forward to close the lifeline door and store both the lines and the fenders. Afterwards, he lowered the keel board and then he gave her a briefing on jargon. "On a sailboat, there are a lot of ropes; they all have their name so we don't get confused when calling for maneuvers. The ones I just stored, that tie the boat to the dock, are called the lines. The vertical ones that raise or lower the sails are the halyards. The ones that we use to tighten or slacken the sails with the winches, on the side there, are the sheets. The steel cables stemming from the masts are the stays. The Genoa - the front sail over there - is, in fact, clipped to the front stay."

"Got it... I think."

"Sure you do. Now we're about to round the breakwater, so I would ask you, once we're in open water, to turn starboard and keep her slow and steady, 1 or 2 knots is fine, right into the wind, please. I'll go raise the mainsail and the Genoa, OK?" He seemed to have an inexhaustible confidence in her that she definitely did not share... yet she made the turn seamlessly. He was already moving about, leaving her alone at the helm, and was following his own advice, having put on a lifejacket and moving about with always a hand on a lifeline, a rail handle or the mast.

Noel raised the mainsail, which flapped noisily in the wind, and he made a gentle sign to Christina to turn the boat to port, which she understood and gently pulled the rudder to turn left. As soon as the wind caught in the sail, Frenchie's Appeal picked up speed and listed a couple of degrees, which made Christina yelp and Noel laugh heartily. Noel went ahead to raise the Genoa and came back aft to tighten the sheet with the winch. Then, in a hurried rush like his life depended on it, he shut off the engine, and loudly sighed in relief.

After a couple of trimmings on the sails, he looked back at Christina with a smile that beamed admiration. "YOU are doing fantastic... can you feel her? All windward sailboats are stubborn ladies, they want to go into the wind... all you have to do is feel when she's about to go her own way and remind her, just in time, who's boss at the helm... not too big a pull on the rudder, so you don't lose speed... there you go! See? It's like you've done this all your life! Look: we're at 6 knots without even trying hard! All you have to do is keep this allure - which is called close reach - and just keep an eye for that black buoy at 2 o'clock. Do you want to keep the helm, since you're doing so great?"

"Sure!" Saying that, Christina realized she needed to relax her jaw, both from the excitement and from smiling non-stop.

"Super... then wait just a second." Noel went inside, leaving Christina not only alone at the helm, but the sole sailor outside, until she heard "Ha! Found them!" He then emerged from the cabin with a very nifty pair of sunglasses, which he offered her. "Please wear these. There will be a lot of sun reflected on the water today and it will be hard on the eyes... and sneaky. These are polarized... they belonged to dad." She put them on and Noel looked truly pleased. "Wow! I'm kind of surprised, but they look really good on you. You should keep them."

Christina was startled and off-balance, again. "No, Noel, these must be worth way too much to just give them to me like that... I wouldn't feel right in accepting this."

"Hmmm... tell you what: I will agree to keep them aboard, as Christina-designated-guest-glasses, if you promise not to be shy about inviting yourself in the future. Call me crazy, but I have a feeling you will be a natural sailor. If not, I would rather know you put them to good use than let them pick up dust in some sort of shrine in dad's memory."

"I will take option number one, then."

That seemed to be the outcome Noel wished all along, as his smile widened and his voice was suddenly booming with excitement. "That's absolutely super!!! Christina, you have really just made my day! Thank you very much!" Realizing he must be looking like a frenzied groupie, he then forced himself to regain some composure while scanning the horizon. Afterwards, seeing all was well, he spoke solemnly. "My dear Christina, if dad was alive, he would declare now as a proper time for refreshments. Don't be shy about drinking, as the sun and the breeze make a good recipe for creeping dehydration. So what will you have: beer, light beer, soft drink, fruit juice, milk or water?"

"Thank you for being so considerate, Noel. I will have a light beer, please." Upon hearing her request, he raised himself from where he sat, opened a compartment and pulled out two beers from an icebox.

"Cheers! I hope this is the beginning of something great..." Christina toasted silently and took a sip. "Do you like it? I'll get you something else if you don't."

Christina raised her eyebrows in surprise, checked the label and then looked puzzled, all in quick succession. "Actually, this is very good, Noel, but now my curiosity is quite piqued."

"What about?"

"You are drinking Labatt Blue and this is a Labatt Blue 0.5% beer."

Yes indeed... very good beer and good thing we're near the border... I buy it locally and the store is always in supply."

"Why, yes... but I mean, we're drinking Quebec beer, I'm hearing a French song on the radio and the boat has Frenchie in its name. So... what is the French connection with your family?"

"Haaa... you want to unravel my aura of mystery? The French connection is the ghost of Mimi, my mom."

"Mimi?"

"According to dad, he only ever called her Mireille Michaud when he felt like teasing her or to make very clear they were in a fight. She did not like her name, even less after she moved here. She was vacationing from Montreal when she met dad at the beach. To hear him tell it, it was a nuclear meltdown and they fused instantly. They were married within the year and they worked non-stop at being happy. It sounds funny, saying it like that... but I do suppose it must have been hard to be married to a soldier of Armageddon during the cold war. Culture-wise, she completely washed over him: choice of beer, taste in music, Montreal Canadiens instead of New-York Yankees, and this all-engrossing love of the marine life. They bought this boat while still in a rental apartment - it was that important to them. It became so blatant that Frenchie became dad's nickname amongst his SAC crewmates."

"She must have been a great woman... how come you never talked about her before, Noel?"

"I never met her. After the Air Force declined to renew dad's commission and closed the base, dad was, not surprisingly, quite destabilized - that funk lasted until he got his taste for municipal politics - but on the home front, it was a revelation, practically a second honeymoon... and taddaa! Mimi was pregnant for the first time at 39 and a diagnosed case of pre-eclampsia. To make matters worse, she informed her OB/GYN that her family had a history of breach births. She was careful during pregnancy and the birth was to be provoked as soon as desirable, which was December 22nd. But it seems I decided to arrive two days early, thus explaining both my name and my karma of haste. It did turn out to be a breach birth and her blood pressure was way out of control. Nobody is sure if she had time to see me after the emergency C-section; she lost consciousness just about then. Dad always explained to me that I was a labor of love and she had given all her heart..." Noel stopped and chocked up softly.

"I'm truly sorry Noel. And I can see that in you."

"See what, Christina?"

"That karma, as you called it. Doing lacrosse to accelerate your healing. Taking summer courses and internships at Alfred College to quicken your graduation. Volunteering at CVPH. Risking life and limb in that fire... Noel, I heard the firefighters barely managed to get you out as it was! Anyway, I see where all that heart and haste come from, now. I wish you could have met her. I wish I could have."

"Christina, you were always the foundation on which I stood for my recovery - body and soul - and you have always been mercifully honest with me. But I don't think even you can fathom my pain about that fire. It was thanksgiving dinner... he wanted to make me his big onion burgers and homemade fries to celebrate my early graduation and my coming home. Sure, he was proud, but I think, more than anything, that he missed me madly - he was retired, still only 64 and I was ALL he had left! There were so many things frying and cooking in that kitchen that nobody could ever pinpoint for me exactly HOW it started... I just heard him yell through a wall of fire, ordering me to get out..."

"Noel, I think it's time we change heading." Christina was extremely thankful for a forced change of subject because she was on the verge of breaking down. She wondered how he could keep his composure. Noel, looking on to the upcoming Vermont coastline, silently acknowledged and thanked the Heavens for having her aboard. He took her opinion both at face value and, from that very moment, on a spiritual level as well.

"You are right, Christina, as always... okaaay! So you want to keep the helm or handle the Genoa?" Just like that, the joy was back in his voice.