The Great Escape

Back in Albany, the partners meeting went pretty well. Max acknowledged the importance of John LaFont and agreed to his getting an extra piece of the profits. As the meeting broke up, Tim told John he needed some time with him on Thursday for personal business, and they agreed to meet at 10.

Probably his last night at their home, Cora and he had dinner together, talked about the girls, had a nice evening together. Tim knew he was pretending. What was she doing?

They went to bed together, no sex, not even much cuddling, just two spouses, married for 27 years, going about their ordinary, day-to-day lives. Yeah, right. Someone had a Thursday committee meeting the next day and someone else was going to disappear.

Thursday morning came and Tim headed to work, Cora to the hospital for her shift and, he presumed, to her "committee meeting."

Tim did meet with John LaFont that Thursday morning, and shared with him his tale of wifely woe. Tim also gave John a power of attorney to use if she filed for divorce. Finally, Tim told him he was sure he was leaving and would be resigning from the law firm.

"Whoa, whoa, let's think about that," said John. And he did; he sat there for a few minutes and then continued: "How about if we have a quick partners meeting to set up a sabbatical program. You'll be the first participant. You'll go on sabbatical for, let's say a year. After a year, you can come back and reestablish your practice or you can resign then. You have capital invested in the firm, and we keep it for the year. Between the partners and the associates who work with you, we can tend to your existing clients. You'll get no income this next year, but you will have a place to return to if you want to. What think you?"

"Wow, how can I say no? I'm impressed you came up with all that in just a few minutes."

"A secret between you and me: I've been thinking about a sabbatical program already and thought I would be the first participant. If you come back next year, I may hang around to transition you into helping my practice while I am gone for a year." With that, Tim and John did reach out to Max and Don, and they did hold a partners meeting that was not so quick, but did result in Tim being put on sabbatical for a year. He shared a lot of his story with Jennifer, who wanted to get a gun and go after Cora. He dissuaded her and did ask her not to share his story with anyone except her husband, and to let the rest of the office know he would be gone for a year. With some tears, he cleaned out his office and headed out to his truck.

At 5 pm, he was parked in sight of Cora's car at the hospital. He wanted to know for sure about her "committee meeting." A little after 5, she came out, got in her car, and drove off. He followed her and didn't care a whit if she discovered him. The final nail in the coffin of their marriage: she didn't head toward their house, but instead drove to an apartment complex. She knocked on a front door and Tim could see that a man opened the door for her. She went inside and Tim drove away, back to their house. He loaded the back of his truck with clothes, some dishes, laptop, financial records, even a few work files, some mementoes, especially of the girls, but even some of the early days of Cora's and his relationship. He did sit and cry a bit, but persevered. Knowing she was occupied, he left her a voice mail: "I'm still working and will not be home when you get home from your committee meeting." Truthful, but, he knew, absolutely misleading. By 8 pm he was on his way to a motel just outside Mystic, Connecticut.

Friday morning, cold but clear and windy in Connecticut. Short run into the wind and then almost warm running back to the motel with the wind at his back.

He met Fred Otter, the owner of the Ranger 31s, at the boat, along with Fred's lawyer. They finished up the paperwork and then started the second part of the deal: Fred had to spend the rest of Friday and all the weekend teaching Tim how to operate the tugboat. They finished Friday's lessons at about 5 and agreed to start Saturday at 10. Saturday at 10 Fred was a no show and Tim was pissed. But at about 11, a car pulled up near the dock and a young lady got out and walked over to the Ranger.

"Are you Tim?" she called.

"Yep."

"I'm Lucinda, Fred's daughter. He asked me to come over to let you know he can't be here. He fell on his front steps last night and broke his ankle. He's sorry and he asked me to substitute for him."

"You know the boat?"

"Not as much as he does, but I know how to handle it, especially around docks, and that's the hardest part. I can also show you how to use the galley. And the heads are not exactly intuitive."

"Well then, let's get started." And they spent the day pulling away from the dock, maneuvering alongside it, backing up to it, maneuvering in and out of a tight u-shaped dock, all the while dealing with the current of the Mystic River. Tim was sweating long before the day was done. Operating a 31-foot-long boat, with one engine and forward and stern thrusters, in close quarters, is not easy. Well, Lucinda made it look easy. Her doing was much better than her teaching and Tim was still struggling at the end of the day. At 5 she watched as he maneuvered the boat back into the dock where they had started that morning. Standing there, exhausted, he asked, "Ten o'clock tomorrow?"

That question might have had more than a bit of pleading in it. Lucinda looked at Tim for a while, and finally said she would call him later. Tim started to remind her of her father's deal, but she had worked with Tim all day, so he kept quiet. After she left, he took a quick shower in the forward cabin's head, ate a little dinner, and went to bed.

Tim's cell phone ringing jerked him out of a nightmare of the Ranger sliding under Niagara Falls with him in it.

"Hello," he said, just as he realized Cora could have gotten his new phone number and was calling.

"Tim, this is Lucinda. You okay?"

"Yeah, thanks, just a little tired."

"Yeah, that's why I'm calling. You looked a little frazzled after today's lessons. I talked about it with my dad, and he said it doesn't sound like you will be ready for the Ranger after just one more day of practice. I know I'm not the best Ranger teacher, but I do know how to handle it. So: I have a proposal. You mentioned yesterday that you are planning to head down the coast to the Intracoastal Waterway. I'm between jobs right now and I would be willing to go with you, as a sort of teaching captain until you are ready to take over. You don't really know me, but I can provide some references that I am not an ax murderer or anything. I would like some money for my teaching, say $50 per day and you pay for gas and food. And, finally, no hanky panky. What do you think?"

"Let me think about it. Maybe until 10 tomorrow? We can still do that, right?"

"Yeah, ok, but how about 11 instead of 10? I'm a little slow on Sunday mornings."

"No problem, I'll see you at 11 then."

She sounded a little disappointed that Tim didn't say yes immediately, but he did need to think about this. She was pretty, a little heavy, dirty blond colored hair that looked like her real color, about 5 6 in height. He told himself he was thinking about how she looked, but deeper inside he was really thinking: "I do need help. We haven't even gotten to the electronics, the charts, using the galley. Ten days with her would be $500 and we could be down to Virginia by then. If I still need help then, I could ask for her to stay until I stop in North Carolina for a while to see my daughters."

The next morning, Sunday, one of his law firm associates arrived to pick up his truck. He gave Tim a check for the purchase price and wished him luck on his adventure. Tim knew he wanted a story to take back to the office, so he showed him around the boat. Tim acted like he totally knew what he was talking about, and the youngster was impressed. Or at least he acted impressed, knowing he might be working for Tim again in a year.

As Tim waited for Lucinda, he knew he needed to call his daughters. He had not spoken to them in more than a week and it was past time to bring them up to date. Since it was a Sunday morning, he knew they had no classes, and hoped they were in their dorm room sleeping, not sleeping somewhere else with someone they should not be sleeping with. He screwed up his courage, knowing this phone call would not go well, and dialed their dorm room number. After a few rings a groggy sounding voice slurred hello.

"Chloe?" Tim asked.

"Nuh-uh," the voice slurred, "Wait." A minute or so later Tim heard noises thru the phone.

"Who is this? At 10 on a Sunday morning?" a voice Tim recognized as Chloe asked.

"Chloe, this is your dad."

"Daddy, uh, Callie, it's Daddy. What's... uh, is everything okay? Why are you calling so early?"

"Chloe, was that Callie who answered the phone? Put us on speaker if it was."

"Ok, yeah, she was pretty sound asleep. Let me get her awake." More noises and then, "Daddy, we're both here and we're both awake now. What's happening?"

"First, everyone is physically ok, no one is sick or in the hospital. But your mom and I are having a big marital problem. Big enough that I don't think we can get past it. Your mom is having an affair with someone and I'm afraid I have to tell you that I have left home. Right now, I'm...."

"Daddy, no," he heard both of them crying, and he could almost see them hugging each other.

"Girls, listen, I know this is devastating, but we can get through it. Right now,...."

"Daddy, are you sure? That really doesn't sound like Mom. I mean she's always, you know, I mean, you know, she's always been a bit of a stick in the mud." That was Callie, the older daughter, always more outspoken.

"Callie, I'm afraid I'm sure. I have evidence that proves it. But I don't want to talk about that. Your mom and I have this huge issue to deal with, and I know it will affect both of you. But right now, I want to give both of you all the assurance in the world that your mom and I love you and that I'll do my best not to let this affect you anymore than it has to." They talked a bit more; Tim gave them his new phone number and asked them not to share it with their mother. Finally, Tim told them he planned to be in North Carolina in about a month and would come see them.

They ended the call with a few more tears and Tim's promise to call every Sunday morning. As they hung up, Chloe laughed thru her tears and told Tim, "You just don't want us to sleep late on Sunday." Tim felt a bit better than he expected after the call. Ending it with a little laughter helped him and he hoped it helped his girls.

At 11, Lucinda showed up. Rather than heading out, she and Tim sat down to talk more about her proposal. They eventually agreed on the details, and also agreed that the first step was to stock up on groceries. They did a grocery store/liquor store run and loaded the purchases onto the boat. Lucinda then left to get her clothes and stuff and have someone drop her off at the boat.

Tim headed out for a run, a great run it turned out, giving him energy and focus to think about his old life, gone now, and a new life of god knows what to come.

He and Lucinda went to bed on board that night, separately of course. Though she was the "training captain," it was Tim's boat, so he slept in the main cabin forward and she slept in the aft cabin. She also fixed dinner, Tim cleaned up and they finished a bottle of wine between dinner and bed.

They agreed tomorrow would be another training day around Mystic harbor and they checked the weather: the forecast looked good to start south on Tuesday. Tim could tell she wanted to ask what was moving him onto the boat and southward in the winter, but he wasn't ready to share. He was also a bit curious about her, and finally suggested they could play 20 questions the next evening. That got both of them laughing a bit, they finished their wine and so to bed.

Monday's lessons were less exhausting. Tim could feel the beginnings of a comfort zone in operating the Ranger. Then they practiced some radio procedures in the afternoon, and he cringed when Lucinda identified the boat as Tug "Sherry Fine." She noticed.

"That was my mother's name: Sherry."

"Are you okay with a new name, Captain?"

"So, First Mate, what would that new name be?"

"'The Great Escape.'"

"Whoa, I suspect there's a lot of symbolism in that name. Maybe a good topic for 20 questions this evening."

"Yeah, it is symbolic, I guess. I admit I am escaping, from a, how-do-I-say-it, "uncomfortable" domestic situation. But speaking of the new name, would you or your dad know of any painter who does boat names?"

"I don't, but my dad knows everyone around Mystic. I'll call him and check." She did and he did and the result: a skinny kid, he looked 12 years old, appeared the next morning with a big black shopping bag. He told them not to move the boat that day, and to tell him what they wanted the new name to look like. Tim described it: sans serif, black print, slight curve to the title. The boy painter drew it on a piece of paper, and Tim said yes. The painter then took some rope and tackle from his bag and swung himself over the stern for a while. Lucinda and Tim practiced electronics drills in the cabin and Tim started getting to know the chart system. He was somewhat familiar with charts from Lake Champlain, but that lake is a simple bathtub compared to the eastern seaboard of the United States. They stopped for lunch and invited painter boy to join them. He declined; said he was almost finished. By the time they finished lunch, he invited them off the boat onto the dock where they could see the stern. There, in what looked like glowing black letters, was the new name of the Ranger 31s: THE GREAT ESCAPE. Beautiful. Tim paid him and he disappeared.

Because of the painting, they missed their Tuesday departure, but Wednesday's weather looked good, so they planned to leave early Wednesday morning. That gave them Tuesday evening for their 20 questions game.

Tuesday dinner followed the usual pattern. Lucinda cooked and Tim cleaned. After dinner, Lucinda did point out:

"Tim, you know, when I leave, you will need to start cooking on your own."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. And I do know how to cook, at least a bit. And there are restaurants near the marinas where I will be docking."

"Tim, restaurants that are either expensive or serve crap food. How about we expand my duties: I will become not only the training captain, but the training chef. You will help me fix dinner each evening and, of course, you still clean up. And I won't even charge extra for my new training duties. "What do you think?"

"Ummm, that sounds like just extra work for me. Let me think about it. And what about our 20 questions game?"

"Okay, I admit I'm a bit curious about you, and 20 questions works to let us share info. Basically, we take turns asking questions, right?"

"Sort of. Actually, you get to keep asking yes/no questions as long as you get a yes answer. When you get a no answer, the other person gets to ask. The first person to get 20 yeses wins."

"Mmmm, and what do you win?"

"I don't know, how about the loser buys an extra bottle of wine next time we go shopping?"

"Okay, that works. So I start: Are you divorced?"

"No, and now I get to ask. Did you break up with your boyfriend recently?"

"Shit, how did you know? Yes, alright? Happy, smartass?

"Did he abuse you?" Tim wasn't sure where that question came from, and as soon as he asked it he knew he shouldn't have. Lucinda started crying, with her arms wrapped around herself. He quickly moved over to sit beside her, to hug her. She pulled away, to look at him.

"Where did that come from, you shit? I bet your wife abused you."

"Whoa, whoa, uh, listen, let's not do the game anymore. I'm sorry for my question, that was totally inappropriate. I'll tell you my, uh, sordid little story and you can decide if I was abused. Fair enough?"

"Whatever." Tim did tell her about the picture and CD he received, his decision to escape, and the steps he took to get to the Ranger 31s, which he was growing to love more each day.

"Damn, Tim, I'll say she abused you. Or at least she abused your relationship and your trust so, yeah, she abused you. Wait, wait, fuck! Did she send you the picture and the CD?"

"Now that deserves to be in the 20 questions game. And I have wondered who sent them. And no, I cannot believe she sent them. Maybe her lover did, 'cause he's a shit and wanted to torture Cora's husband. Or maybe he's married, and his wife discovered their affair, and she sent them. I don't know, and really, I don't care. I mean, I was surprised I didn't go nuts and confront them and yell at her and maybe beat the shit out of him. But instead, my reaction was more overwhelming sadness. We've been married almost 30 years, and there really wasn't much passion left. I suspect she had gotten tired of me, and now I have to admit I'm happy to be on The Great Escape, sailing off to god knows where, with a beautiful young woman as my training captain."

"Tim, first, I'm not beautiful, and second, if you think you're going to seduce me with some cheesy lines about me, you're totally wrong. Men are all...."

"Wait, wait, please don't say men are all anything. That would be like me saying women are all bitches because my ex-wife-to-be is. And I'm not trying to seduce you; wait again, that's not quite true. Actually, you are beautiful, and I would be breaking all the rules of being a guy if I weren't hitting on you at least a little. But just hold that thought; we can talk about your beauty and one's perceptions of beauty later. I shared my story; now it's your turn."

"Ah, my story is, ahh, how do I say this: how about 'fucking stupid'?"

"You were stupid, or the ex-boyfriend was stupid?"

"He was an asshole, an absolute asshole, and I was the stupid one. I loved the asshole, and we lived together for almost two years, first just the two of us while he was working on some crazy software that he was developing. Then two more guys moved in with us. They shared our extra bedroom and the three of them used our dining room and living room as their workspace. And me? I did the cooking, cleaning, laundry, shopping, just about everything for all three of them. Except sex. All three of them were so buried in the software work that I barely had sex with the boyfriend. I mean like once a month, and I think that was just for him to make sure his parts were still working."

"Damn, like you were their servant or scullery maid or almost like a slave."

"Yeah, well, I was in love, at least at first, and then about two weeks ago I came home to the apartment and the two extra guys were gone and the boyfriend was packing. Of course, I asked what was going on, and he told me that they had a great offer from some big software company on the west coast and they were leaving. And the two of us? The fucking asshole said it's been great but it's time to move on. And he finished packing and fucking walked out the door." And she started crying again.

"Oh, Lucinda, that's horrible. And you're absolutely right: he may be the world's biggest asshole. I hope the big software company steals their ideas and leaves them panhandling on the side of the road." Tim moved closer again and hugged her again. This time she allowed it, so he hugged her a little tighter.

"You still aren't going to seduce me," she said, wiping away tears and trying to laugh a little.

"Hey, I'm just comforting you. I can't help it if you're beautiful and sexy and I'm attracted to you, and I haven't had sex now in a couple of weeks." They both laughed and relaxed a bit, drank some more wine, and eventually went to bed, in their separate cabins.