Read Online Refuge Cove by Lesley Choyce - Free Book Online Page B

accident,” I said, brushing off his question. “Could have happened to anyone. You could have told me about the ice.” I should have been grateful, but for some reason I was feeling humiliated.
    â€œGet in the cabin. Warm up. Pour some tea.”
    I didn’t say another word. I ducked into the low little cabin. My toes began to thaw and my fingers began to move. Harold walked in just as I started to cry.
    He took one look at me and acted like itwas no big deal that I was crying. “It’s all salt water, boy. The sea, the stuff that flows in your veins, those tears. We’re all full of salt water.”
    I needed to explain why I was crying. It wasn’t the fact that I’d screwed up and nearly died. It was something else. “My father died last year. Heart attack. He just died.” That was why I was crying. I missed him that much.
    Harold seemed a little confused. Then he poured me a second hot cup of tea and put it in my hands. “I know exactly how you feel,” he said. “My old man died just last year, too.”
    I looked up at him, puzzled. “How old was he?”
    â€œNinety-one.”
    I thought that this was some kind of joke. My father had just turned forty. “It’s not the same,” I insisted.
    Harold took a big gulp of tea right from the pot and shook his head. “Nope. You’re wrong. It is the same. I know exactly how you feel.” He got up and went back to steer us into Deep Cove.
    Mom made me take a hot shower. “You want me to call a doctor?” she asked.
    â€œNo.” I felt more embarrassed than anything. Here I was supposed to be the man of the family and I end up giving my mother more to worry about.
    She let out a sigh. “I guess nothing is quite turning out as planned. First your father. Then the move. Now this. Greg, what are we doing here? Maybe we shouldn’t have gone through with it. This is all different. We were supposed to move down here with your father and live happily ever after.”
    My mom was a dreamer. So was my old man. They had wanted to quit what they called “the rat race,” take the money they saved and live in a remote outport by the sea. Me? I just wanted to live anywhere there was water and wind.
    â€œWe’re out of the rat race,” I consoled her. “You should have seen this iceberg,” I told her. “It was beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
    â€œBut you didn’t have to run into it,” shesaid and lit up into a smile that let me know everything was going to be okay.
    Just then, the door burst open. Harold, over six feet tall and looking a bit like a deranged criminal, walked into the house. I thought my mom was going to scream.
    â€œIt’s okay, Mom,” I said. “This is Harold.”
    Harold just tilted his head. “Got a decent sewing machine?” he asked.
    â€œWhat?” my mother asked, flabbergasted.
    Harold held up my torn sail. “I checked the boat. It’s okay. No cracks. Looks solid. Sail’s got a few problems, though.”
    â€œWho are you?” my mother now screamed at him.
    â€œName’s Harold, like the boy said.”
    â€œHe found me and brought me back,” I said.
    â€œOh.” My mother relaxed a little. She still seemed unsettled. “I guess I should thank you,” she said. I could tell she didn’t trust this stranger. “You scared the living daylights out of me. Why didn’t you knock?”
    Harold shrugged. “Don’t know. Neverthought of it, I guess. Folks knock before they come in in Toronto?”
    Right then I was glad I had met Harold. And not just because he had helped me out on the water. Mom and I needed all the friends we could find.
    â€œGot a sewing machine?” Harold asked again. “I’m good at this. The best there is. I’ll only charge you my standard fee.”
    â€œWhich is?” my mother