With school out, Kurt welcomed the continual presence of Don once more, for Erik no longer spent every free moment at the house, coming most weekends and only two or three nights during the week, preferring, he said, to be at the station where he would be available if needed. Kurt recognized the growing bond between Erik and the chief and was happy for them both, for Erik had learned to differentiate between the required formality of working hours and their after-hours friendship. The chief, too, spent less of his time after hours with the business of the station and often came to the house with Erik to be with Don and him.
A few days after graduation Don came dashing into the house. "Kurt, can I have the Jeep tonight?"
"Of course. Why?"
"Terry's asked me to go with him and some of the others tonight."
"Fine. Have you enough money?"
"Plenty. I don't know what time I'll be home; they didn't tell me what they got planned."
"Try not to be too late."
"Okay."
About nine, Kurt picked a mystery from the stack of books he'd received in the post that morning and, after filling the carafe with hot tea, went to bed. It was little after midnight when he read the last page and closed the book, pleased at the well-crafted story, that the murderer had been the one character he had disliked, though all evidence pointed away from him. He placed the book on the bedside table, swallowed the last of his tea and switched off the light, settling himself comfortably under the spread. In the silence the old house creaked, the familiar monotonous tick-tock of the grandfather clock in the hall lulled, his eyes closed.
The heavy slam of the front door jerked him upright. A resounding thud vibrated the wall between the hall and his room, followed by a crash of glass. He switched on the light and fumbled for his crutches. A clangor from the tubular chimes of the clock filled the air as they banged against each other. When he switched on the hall lights, he noted shards of glass glittering around the overturned console table. Don thudded against the wall again and staggered towards the stairs, hand outstretched. He fell full length, face against the bottom step. "Aaaaw, shit."
"Don!"
Kurt leaned over him, the odor of liquor gagging. "My god, why?" Concern for the figure sprawled on the floor replaced a momentary loathing as he leaned one crutch against the wall and grasped Don's arm, pulling him up. "Can you stand?"
Seeing the glazed eyes, he grasped Don's belt and, with a crutch under one arm, managed to pull him up the stairs and to his room. Don flopped across the bed motionless as Kurt undressed him, dropping the filthy clothing to the floor.
He roused as Kurt laid a blanket over him. "Wh ... where?"
"You're home."
"K ... Kurt?"
"Yes."
Don cringed away. "P ... please don't b ... beat me. I ... I didn't mean to do it. Please don't beat me."
"Why should I want to beat you? I'm glad you made it home safe."
"Home? I ... uuuuug." Don swung off the bed, staggered to the bath, glancing off the door. A moment later Kurt heard him upchucking and followed. Don knelt over the commode, his small frame wracked with heaving. Kurt reached down and steadied him until the heaves dried, then pulled him up, closed the lid, and sat him on it. He bathed the boy's face with a cold facecloth until his eyes focused. He helped Don to the basin and fixed his toothbrush.
"Brush your teeth, rinse with the mouthwash, and take a shower if you think you can. When you're done, come down to the kitchen. I'll get the coffee on."
When Don leaned against the basin for support and managed to get the brush in his mouth after several attempts, Kurt made his way cautiously down the stairs, crutch and banister supporting him. He picked up his other crutch and went on to the kitchen. After starting the coffee, he placed a couple of sweet rolls in the toaster-oven, waiting until he heard the shower stop before switching it on.
A few minutes later Don eased in the kitchen, wincing at the scraping noise as he pulled the chair out. Only after he'd taken several sips of coffee did he look up. "I ... I'm sorry, Kurt. I fucked up bad."
"What happened?"
Don ate the second sweet roll and drank more coffee before he looked at Kurt again. "I went to Terry's. He and Sue were there. Later, Sammy came with Pam. He had his dad's station wagon. Sammy fixed me up with summer girl he knew and we were going to the casino to dance, but we had to wait 'til nine, 'cause Karen had to go somewhere with her parents first. We had a beer, then picked her up. Sammy wanted another beer, so we went to this place in the woods he knew near the fresh pond. The girls had brought chips, some soda and all that junk, and Terry had a bottle of vodka. I only had one more beer while we were there."
"Surely two beers didn't make you that drunk?"
Don shook his head and groaned as a result. "When we got ready to go to dance, Terry and Sue got in and left the back seat for Karen and me. She got in first, so she was on my left. I guess she wanted to hold hands or something 'cause I felt her touch my arm, then she slipped her hand down it." Don wiped his nose on the back of his hand. "When she felt where it ends, she let out a scream. Everybody else laughed 'cause they knew what had happened and then Sammy turned on the light so she could see. She started yelling at Sammy how she didn't think it was funny getting somebody like me for her date and if that's what he thought of her, he could take her home. Sammy got pissed and called her a stupid bitch. While they were yelling, Sue put some vodka in a cup with some soda and told me I needed it.
"Sammy was so pissed he took Karen home and we went back to Terry's and he told me to get out. Sue got out when I did, so Terry did too. Sue told Sammy it was his fault for getting that dumb summer girl for me. Sammy said something back and Terry opened the door and jerked Sammy out and told him he couldn't talk to Sue like that. Sammy pushed him, and Terry pushed him back and said he weren't goin' nowhere with him if I couldn't go. I didn't want 'em fightin' 'cause of me 'cause we're friends. Pam pulled Sammy back in the car and they left. Terry got a drink and gave me another one.
"I ... I didn't know what to do, Kurt. I just wanted to be here with you."
"But you know better than to drive when you've been drinking. Why didn't you call Erik to come get you?"
"He'd of killed me. I didn't want to wait for him, anyway. I just wanted to get home."
"You didn't have any trouble on the way, did you?"
Don shook his head and groaned again.
"Thank God."
"I'm sorry, Kurt. I won't do it again."
"I hope not. If you're feeling better, it's time you were in bed."
At the bottom of the stairs, Don stopped and looked at Kurt then held out his arms. Kurt hugged him.
"I know I fucked up, busting the lamp and waking you up, and you having to help me and all. I won't ever do it again. Can you forgive me?"
"Of course. I just hope you've learned something from this, Don. Drinking doesn't solve any problems, it just causes more." Kurt gave him a wry smile. "You'll know what I mean tomorrow morning, if you don't already."
As he lay waiting to sleep. Kurt thought, 'My God, will either of us ever get over being so sensitive about something we can't change?'
It was noon before Don appeared downstairs.
"Would you like some breakfast? Or should I say lunch?"
Don shook his head then placed his hand on his forehead and groaned. "Not so loud," he whispered.
"Hangover?"
Don glared at him with bloodshot eyes.
Kurt held out a couple of aspirin. "Take these and drink some coffee. I'll fix your breakfast."
"Don't want nothin'," Don mumbled.
Kurt placed a filled plate before Don. "Food will absorb some of the alcohol. Eat this then go lie on the beach and get over it."
"Thanks. I'm really sorry."
"Forget it. I did some stupid things when I was your age, too."
Kurt flipped the page on his desk calendar reading the notation he'd made. Once he had Don on the way to the village with the shopping list, he picked up the phone. "Chief, I know it's probably bad timing, but I need to talk to you and Erik about something while Don's not around."
Tony was dispatched to collect Kurt, who found the chief in his office muttering violently to himself.
"What's the matter, Chief?"
"Damned reports agin! You'd think the Guard ran on paper from the amount I have to fill out every month. Lot of damn foolishness, if you ask me. What's on your mind?"
"Where's Erik?"
The chief opened his office door and let out an indiscriminate roar, then turned to the coffee pot. "Might as well have one with me. I'll need a lot before this day is out and something stronger besides."
"You know where you can find it." Kurt invited.
Erik shot through the door, a screwdriver clutched in one fist. "Yeah, Chief?"
"Kurt wants to talk about something."
"It didn't hit me until this morning, but Monday is Don's birthday."
When the chief and Erik looked at each other and burst out laughing, Kurt tried to conceal a surge of irritation. "What's so funny about it?"
"We're way ahead of you. We thought you'd forgotten, so the chief and I have it all planned. I was coming over after work to ask you to get Don over here Monday night without making him suspicious."
"How did you know? You were in school, Erik, and I don't remember mentioning it to you, Chief."
"You did, as a matter of fact," the chief replied. "I wouldn't have paid any attention, but the way you treated the boy that day ..." he shrugged, "I don't know why, but I made a note of it on my calendar. I'm glad I did, now."
"Is there anything you want me to do?"
"Not unless you can think of someone we should ask. There's just us and the rest of the men."
"Terry?"
"We forgot about him. Can you let him know?"
"Soon as Don gets back with the Jeep I'll see if I can find him."
"Have you gotten him anything yet?" Asked the chief.
Kurt shook his head. "I was thinking about a portable TV set. He's wanted one for so long I guess I'll have to give in, especially after he had to come over here to watch those programs his teacher assigned. Maybe programming has improved."
"I've got to go to the base in Norfolk tomorrow. It'll be cheaper at the PX, so I'll pick one for you there. It'll take an outside antenna with a rotor to pick up much, so I'll give him that."
"Thanks. Did you have something else in mind?"
"There's a surprise gift from the men," replied the chief. "I think you'll be happy about it. They all chipped in."
Following the directions of the Chief, Kurt found Tillet's house down the sandy track on the sound side. Terry and his father were sitting on the dock mending nets. He looked at Terry sitting on a wooden box, seeing him in a few years with the tanned weathered face creased with furrows, the stoop, exactly as his father, unless he chose to follow some other profession. Knowing from Don the boy's ability with mathematics, he thought to himself, 'what a waste.' Yet he pondered how Terry would cope with the vastly different world of the mainland. Would he be as defensive away from this tight-knit community as he'd first been with Don? He climbed out of the Jeep and walked to the dock.
"Fergive me fer not gettin' up, Kurt, but I can't turn loose o' this here right now."
"Don't bother, Ed. I just came to see if Terry could come to the station Monday night. The crew's giving a surprise party for Don."
"Great! Can I have the truck, Pop?"
"I guess I kin get somebody else to help, 'cause iffin the weather's right, I'll be a-goin' out. You have some coffee?" He asked Kurt.
"Thanks, but I haven't time. I've got to get home and fix some dinner."
"Terry, go git some of them shrimp fer Kurt." As Terry ran toward the shed, Ed cut the twine and shoved the mended net to one side, getting up from the wooden fish box on which he had been sitting. "Got a few yesterday. Weren't enough to sell, so I iced 'em down fer anybody as was a-hankerin' fer some. Glad you come by."
"I appreciate it, Ed. We haven't had any for a while."
"If I was you, I'd cook 'em in beer. They might be a little muddy tasting otherwise."
The next evening as he helped Kurt shell the shrimp, Don asked, "Where's Erik? He's never late for dinner."
"The chief sent him to Norfolk for supplies. He should be here before much longer. Think you can hold out?"
"Sure. Is the chief coming?"
"There's more than enough. Why don't you call him. We can have the shrimp cold with a salad."
Erik and the chief finally came in together.
"Glad you called, Don. I sort o' hankered to git out tonight."
"I was beginning to think Erik wasn't going to make it."
"The chief's a real slave driver sometimes, makes us work after hours and all that."
"Any time I can get some work out of you, I'd better take it." The chief chuckled. "I figure you owe me the time for all the goofin' off you do."
Coastie swatted Don's bare leg with a paw. "What you want, cat? A shrimp?" Don held down a small shrimp. The cat dropped it to the floor and batted at it, watching it slide across the polished tiles. "Look, stupid, you're supposed to eat it, not play with it," Don scolded. Coastie looked at him then held the shrimp in his paws, eating daintily.
"Looks like you're teaching him something, Don," the chief commented.
"I doubt it. He's too darned independent."
"Like you?" Erik commented.
Don flushed as they laughed. "I guess so, but I'm almost a year older, you know."
After sending Don out Saturday morning with a lengthy shopping list and some letters to mail, Kurt called the station. The chief with him, Erik carried the carton to the kitchen table and opened it. "Here it is, Kurt." He plugged the set in and switched it on.
"Did you have to get cartoons?" Kurt asked in disgust.
"So that's all that's on. I wasn't asking about the program. What do you think of the set?"
"The picture could certainly be improved."
"Needs the outside antenna and a little touching up, but I can do that next weekend. You'll see a big difference."
"I was wondering if I'd made a mistake in getting him this."
"Why?" Asked the chief.
"If Don keeps the set in his room we'll never see him, and if he puts it in the library, Erik and I won't be able to practice. I guess we lose either way."
"Give the boy some credit. Once the novelty wears off, he won't spend much time with it. You know how sensible he is 'bout things. You want it back in the box?"
"Please, and put it in my room, Erik. He won't go in there and I want to wrap it so he can have something to open. I'll give it to him at breakfast."
"Why not at the party?" Asked the chief.
"I would, but I hate the thought of his being disappointed all day. You caught the hints he threw out last night, didn't you?"
"It was all I could do to keep from laughing," said Erik.
"I sort of felt sorry for the boy," added the chief. "After all, you made a big thing of it last year and he'd been here, what was it - 'bout a week?"
"Right. And I don't want to spoil your surprise for him."
"Don't worry. Like you said, Erik wasn't here then and I didn't know about it 'til later, so he won't be expecting us to do anything. We'd better get back to the station before Don comes home."
Kurt awoke Monday morning when his clock gave an anticipatory click a few moments before the alarm sounded. The box was heavier than he'd expected, but he wrestled it to the kitchen table and sat with a mug of tea until he heard Don coming down the hall.
"Happy birthday."
Don's eyes widened. "You didn't forget!"
"Not likely. Well, go ahead, it's for you."
Don ripped open the carton, collapsed in his chair and stared. "I don't believe it!"
"Didn't you want one?"
"Did I ever! But you hate TV so much, I'd given up." Don hugged him. "Thanks, Kurt. This is the second best birthday ever."
"Only the second best?"
"Last year was the first time anybody ever did something special for me so it was the best."
From time to time he turned on the set, but few programs held his attention. When it was time for them to leave for dinner at the station, Kurt found him before it once more. "It's time for us to go."
"I wish I could stay here and watch."
"You wouldn't want to hurt the chief's feelings, would you? Besides, that game show is ridiculous."
"I guess," he answered reluctantly.
The station bell was ringing when they arrived. They walked into the mess hall, Kurt taking the seat at the chief's right, while Don found a space next to Tony.
"It's been a while since you've come to eat with us, Don. It's good to have you." The chief greeted.
As each of the crewmen finished eating, he took his tray to the scullery window and returned with a mug of coffee. Don was surprised when Terry came in and took a mug of coffee, finding a seat on the other side of the table.
"What are you doing here?"
"Paw sent me up with somethin' fer Joe." He nodded in the chief's direction.
When the table was cleared, Cookie appeared in the doorway to the kitchen with a large cake holding eighteen flaming candles. The crew jumped up and started singing. Don looked about in disbelief, then to Kurt, Erik, Terry, Tony, and the chief, singing with the others.
"But how?" He asked when they finished.
"Never mind how. Cut the cake." Cookie said, setting the cake before him with a broad smile. He'd tried his best, hiding the imperfections under a heavy layer of icing. Erik helped Don pass the slices. When only crumbs and empty coffee mugs remained, Tony called out, "Kangaroo court!"
Erik shifted a chair to one side of the table and pushed Don into it. Taking the chief's place at the head of the table, Erik sat looking directly at him. "What are the charges against this man?"
"Impersonating a Coastie!"
"Unlawful consumption of government rations!"
"Interference with operation of a government installation!"
As their voices shouted out the charges, Don sobered. Surely they were joking, but no one spoke in his defense. "Wait a minute."
"Silence!" Erik shouted back at him.
"Fighting in school!" Terry added.
"Enticing personnel to dereliction of duty!"
"The charges are brought," Erik shouted again. "How does the prisoner plead?"
"Can't I defend myself?" Don asked timorously.
"Guilty or not guilty!"
"Ugh ... g ... guilty, I guess."
"Lock him up!" Don heard Tony call.
Erik pointed to him. "Stand up and face the court." Don stood uncertainly with Erik facing him sternly. "You are sentenced to confinement in the boat shed. Move it!"
With the others crowding behind him, Erik and Tony each took an arm and dragged a reluctant Don to one of the smaller out-buildings. After two of the men pushed open the heavy doors, they led Don into the darkness. The lights flared, momentarily blinding him. When his vision cleared he faced a small Jeep, a piece of cardboard tied to the back.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DON
from all of us
Don stared, unable to believe. "You guys are kidding."
"It's yours," Erik said. "Enjoy."
Kurt and the chief stood by the open doors while the others crowded around Don. "I hope you don't mind, Kurt," the chief said quietly. "The boys wanted to do it."
"It's too much. Really." He looked the small vehicle over then turned back to the chief. "I didn't know they ever made Jeeps this small."
"They made them towards the end of World War II. Not many and not fer very long. They was called Peeps since they was smaller than regular Jeeps. But it ain't as much as you think. One of the men used to be here got it when them little things was phased out. It got passed along fer a while, and then it got stowed in the shed here. All the boys did was put it in first class running order and give it a coat of paint. There weren't much money spent, but Ski and the boys had to make a part er two to git it runnin' right. Took 'em a little time, but it give 'em somethin' to do after hours. 'spect it kept a few of 'em out of some trouble, too. Besides, they all knew you was without your Jeep when Don started school so they're saying thanks to you, too."
"I haven't done anything for them."
"Nonsense. I know a few of 'em hit you up fer a loan now an' agin."
Kurt chuckled. "You aren't supposed to know that. Anyway, they always pay me back."
"That's beside the point. Now Don can come and go like he wants and leave you your Jeep. I think it took me longer to find the title to the thing than it did the boys to work on it. I already signed it." He handed Kurt an envelope.
After Erik got in and showed him how to shift the manual gears, Don started the motor and backed carefully out of the shed. He was still sitting in the Peep when Kurt drove up behind him at the house.
"I don't believe it, Kurt."
"It's a very generous gift. We'll have to get it inspected and licensed before you can drive it on the highway."
"Can we do it tomorrow?"
"We'll have to go into Currituck, but I don't see why not. I'm afraid the insurance is going to be rather expensive, young as you are."
"That's all right. I have the money from those paintings I sold."
"Promise me you'll be careful, Don."
"I will, Kurt. Honest."
A few weeks after his birthday, Don paused for a break in traffic on his way out of the post office parking lot. He was irritated when a Lincoln Continental whipped out of the flow and pulled to a stop in front of him. A well-dressed man jumped out and walked over to him, looking at the Peep hungrily.
"Mind telling me where you got this Peep, son?"
"The guys at the station gave it to me for my birthday. Why?"
"My God, it's a classic. It's beautiful. How much do you want for it?"
Don shook his head. "It's not for sale. The guys just gave it to me."
"Please, name your price. I'll give you my Lincoln for it."
"No way. It can't be worth that much."
"It is to me. I collect antique cars, son. Peeps like yours were made for only a short time and it's impossible to find one now, especially in perfect condition like yours. Are you sure you won't sell it?"
"Sorry, but it's special. The guys gave it to me and I wouldn't want to hurt their feelings. Besides, where we live I need something like this. Your car wouldn't ever go through the sand."
"You mean there's no road?"
"Not past Duck. I have to drive the beach to get home. It takes four-wheel drive."
"Oh. Look," he extended his hand and Don took the business card he held out, "if you ever decide to get rid of it, son, please call me first and let me make you an offer."
"Okay, but it'll be a long time."
"Just keep my card and let me know, will you?"
"Sure."
"You'll never guess what happened," Don said, handing Kurt the mail.
"What?"
"A guy tried to trade me a brand new Lincoln for my Peep."
"You're kidding."
"No way. He said he was a collector. He gave me his card in case I decided to sell it."
"I suppose you could and get a Jeep like mine."
"Yeah, I guess. But I thought about it on the way home and this is mine. The guys went to a lot of trouble to fix it up for me and all, and I wouldn't want to hurt their feelings."
"I'm proud of you for being so considerate of them, Don."