Back to Shore

When I was ten, my mom began renting out rooms to foreign students. Over the next eleven years, while I lived at home, I became friends with students from countries all over the world—Japan, China, Taiwan, Singapore, Venezuela, Germany, Palestine, Saudi Arabia, India, and many others. Each man widened my understanding and appreciation of humanity.

One summer, my mom decided that we (the remnant of my family) deserved a little break. A change of pace. So she rented a little place on a lake for a week. Lake Danoon. It was beautiful, and the first real “vacation” I could ever remember. As glad as I was for a chance to enjoy “free time” without the daily grind, I soon realized that our renters made my life far more interesting than it would ever have been without them.

Three of the guys showed up on Saturday, and I remember how glad I was to see them. Not only did I miss our “Hi, how ya doing?” as we passed in the kitchen each day, but I also missed their presence. Their scholastic-obsessed good sense and hardworking example.

I had, in a fatally flawed bit of logic (given my arm strength) tried to row myself out onto the lake in the morning and did nothing but bump up against the shore for an hour. So when Wael, a Lebanese student studying engineering, Ting, a student from Singapore also studying engineering, and Bala, an Indian student, (I have no idea what he was studying but I knew he was deeply spiritual, making him wise if not brilliant in my eyes) showed up, I grabbed my chance and convinced them to get in the boat and head out into the middle of the lake. With me—of course. I was about fifteen at the time and acted like the cajoling little sister who could do no wrong.

We had a great deal of fun.

Until the boat started to leak.

Then the engine died.

No problem thought I. I have two engineers and a guru. Who cares about a little leak?

They did apparently.

Not one of the three men could swim.

Now that did surprise me. But good sense kicked in, along with engineering skills, and we, (they) managed to maneuver the boat back to shore. Safely.

So when the rental guy came over, I explained about the leak and the engine trouble, expecting him to apologize and show some level of gratitude for the fact that my friends not only saved their own lives but the boat as well.

But no. The rental guy broke into a tirade. For some odd reason, the leak and the engine trouble was our fault. My fault.

Being true to my nature, I immediately felt guilty. Not only had I risked innocent lives on a lark, but I had also managed to enrage a boatman. Sheesh. I hardly deserved to live.

Now I had seen these guys deal with all levels of stress during the time they rented with us. Final exams, being away from family, economic hardships, cultural crisis, so I knew how each of them might react when confronted with trouble. I stepped in front of Wael, expecting him to bellow back at the boat guy. But no. He crossed his arms and glared. Then I glanced at Bala, expecting him to offer some consoling wisdom and smooth the fellow’s ruffled feathers. But no. He clasped his hands and stepped aside.

It was Ling, the quiet and most mild-mannered of men, who stepped up and described to the boatman—in a clear and loud voice—the exact disastrous proceedings and with admonishing finger pointed at me. “And what about her? She could’ve drowned!” With matching glares, Wael and Bala nodded emphatically. That was the crux of the matter as far as they were concerned.

Without further argument, the boatman apologized and offered to refund the rental payment.

My mom, brother, and I returned home the following week, and life resumed its normal pace. School. Exams. Meals with spicy scents lingering in the kitchen. Cups of hot tea shared at the table. Hot summer days. Freezing winter evenings. Holidays. Ordinary realities.

But all my life, I have remembered those three men’s outrage. Not because they got stuck in the middle of a lake in a leaky boat with a kid who couldn’t row herself to shore. No. They were outraged because they feared for my life.

And I was the only one who could swim.

Novels by A. K. Frailey

Science Fiction

Last of Her Kind  http://amzn.to/2y1HJvg

Newearth: Justine Awakens http://amzn.to/2pq0vWN

Historical Fiction

Melchior—Vengeance Is Mine http://amzn.to/2taeW2r

Historical Fiction & Science Fiction Blend

OldEarth ARAM Encounter https://amzn.to/2KLhlsN

OldEarth Ishtar Encounter https://amzn.to/2OAkDQF

OldEarth Neb Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Georgios Encounter (In production)

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho http://amzn.to/2sLfcI5

Inspirational Non-Fiction

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings http://amzn.to/2lWBd0z

For the First Time in Months

Standing outside the huge garage door, Madge fumbled with her keys and then handed them over to the serviceman.

Without a word, he took them and nodded.

Buttoning her coat against a bitter late winter wind, Madge forced a grin. “Sorry, I’m so clumsy. I was out at the zoo, showing the school kids the monkeys—kind of a funny how they play off each other—but dang my hands get so cold, I could probably freeze water, like one of those superhuman types on TV.”

The service guy grinned and started away. “Well, if you want to sign for the order inside, we can get things moving so you don’t have to wait too long.” He stopped by her car, frowned at the tires, circled around and shook his head. He opened the service door and stood aside.

Nervous anxiety rippled through Madge’s body as she traipsed inside. She tossed her bulky purse onto the high counter. She glanced at the nameplate with Rick written in bold letters, next to a family photo with a pretty wife and two adorable kids.

Rick punched numbers into a calculator.

Marge swallowed back her fear. “So before you get too far, you want to tell me what I’m looking at? I mean, it’s just the oil change, right?”

Rick looked up, an appraising expression on his face. “Truth is, your two front tires are as bald as any I’ve ever seen. I’m surprised you made it through the winter on those things. Your steering wheel has more tread on it.”

Madge’s courage fell to the cement floor. “Well, I’ve been hoping they would make it to June. I only have to drive into the city twice a week, so I figured—”

The horrified look on Rick’s face forced her to grip her courage with both hands. She swallowed hard. “You’re right. It’s not safe. For me or anyone. Okay, I’ll get new ones. Can you get something a little better than what I have now? These only lasted a couple years..”

With obvious relief, Rick nodded and started tapping the calculator again. “We’ll take you up a step and with the oil change we’re looking at…”

Marge knew he was looking at a number larger than anything she had in her checking account. Or would likely have in the near future. When he was done with the detailed costs, tax, she sucked in a fresh breath and pulled her bag forward. “Do you mind if I call my bank? I’ll transfer what I have from savings…and then” —she squinted as if the light hurt her eyes— “maybe you’d let me make monthly payments on the rest? I’m good for it. It’ll just take three…four months tops. My job…well…it’s not one of those high paying ones.”

Rick nodded. “That’s fine. I’ll have to order these now, and when they come in, we can get everything done at once. Will that work?”

Pulling her phone from her purse, Madge exhaled. “Yep. I’ll call the bank now and pay you what I can and then—”

A man behind Marge cleared his throat.

With a frown, Rick peered over Madge’s head.

Marge started for the door. “I’ll go outside. I can’t get any reception in here anyway.” The wind had died down, and Marge soaked in the noonday sunshine. Her heart pounded as she pressed the phone to her ear. A tap on the shoulder turned her attention.

Rick stood before her, a strange expression on his face. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Just go home, and I’ll call you when I have everything set. Okay?”

A fresh blast of frigid air careened through her thin coat. She peered at the service door. “You sure?”

“Yeah. No problem. I’ve got some things to take care of right now, but I’ll call you about arranging the balance and payment.”

As Marge gave Rick her phone number, she wondered if she had accomplished anything. She marched to her car, her keys biting into her grip.

~~~

Once at home, Marge made herself a hot cup of tea and settled on the sofa with her checkbook and a pad of paper. She had to rethink her options. She sighed and took a tentative sip. Lipton’s best wasn’t nearly so good without sugar, but hey, it was better than just hot water.

Her phone rang. Dragging her purse by the long strap, she yanked it closer and sifted through myriad objects. Once she had her phone in hand, she tapped it on. “Yeah?”

“Marge?”

Marge waited. Oh boy… Exhaustion seeped through her body.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to bother you…and I suppose I acted a little odd when you left. But, you see, the guy in line behind you told me that he overheard our conversation, and he offered to pay for your tires if we ate the cost of labor and the tax.”

Marge froze. She wondered how long she could go without breathing. When conscious thought returned, she blinked and stared at her worn black bag slumped on the floor. “Who? Did what?”

“The gentleman behind you…well, he heard about your situation, and when you went outside, he offered to pay for your tires… but he didn’t want you to know it was him. He said he doesn’t know you or anything. Just his good deed for the day sort of thing. So that’s why I told you to go home.”

A lump swelled in Marge tears, burning behind her eyes. “I never…I mean…I can’t believe…”

“We told him okay; it’s a deal. So I ordered your tires, and you can bring your car on Friday at noon. We’ll have everything done by 3:00. That’ll work for you?”

“But I’d really like to thank him…whoever he is. And you too, of course. I can’t believe…”

“Don’t worry about it. Just bring your car on Friday, and everything will be taken care of. Free of charge. Sometimes life is good, you know.”

Marge swiped the tear from her cheek. “People are good, Rick.”

As she dropped her phone back into her purse, Marge realized that not only weren’t her hands cold, but her whole body felt warm for the first time in months.

Novels by A. K. Frailey

Science Fiction

Last of Her Kind  http://amzn.to/2y1HJvg

Newearth: Justine Awakens http://amzn.to/2pq0vWN

Historical Fiction

Melchior—Vengeance Is Mine http://amzn.to/2taeW2r

Historical Fiction & Science Fiction Blend

OldEarth ARAM Encounter https://amzn.to/2KLhlsN

OldEarth Ishtar Encounter https://amzn.to/2OAkDQF

OldEarth Neb Encounter (In production)

OldEarth Georgios Encounter (In production)

Children’s Book

The Adventures of Tally-Ho http://amzn.to/2sLfcI5

Inspirational Non-Fiction

The Road Goes Ever On—A Christian Journey Through The Lord of the Rings http://amzn.to/2lWBd00