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The Oaks


Patrick M. Brown


Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2008 Patrick Brown

All Rights Reserved


Printed version available at

http://www.PatrickBrownOnline.com

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Preface


In nature we find communion with our creator, the creator of all things. I think I always knew this in the deep recesses of my mind, but only now, later in life has it become apparent to me. Alone on the river as the sun is rising on a warm summer morning, the reflections of the rays dancing across the water, an occasional fish breaking the surface, the sounds of shorebirds and gulls calling gently in the distance as the day begins. I can’t imagine heaven being any more peaceful or beautiful than this.


Dedication


This book is dedicated to all of the individuals throughout my life that in one way or another contributed to its content, but especially to my wife

Michelle.


The Oaks Club is a restaurant on the town of Oxford’s water’s edge that caters to the upscale crowd that tends to inhabit Maryland’s eastern shore of the Chesapeake Bay during the summer; a place where a hamburger costs ten dollars and the upscale patrons throw back single malt scotch and slap each other on the back. Where the “good ole boys” while away their Saturday Afternoons in lounge chairs at the water’s edge, or discuss the day’s trades over bourbon and martinis.

The Oaks has an outdoor bar as well as the one inside. The inside bar itself is thick heavily varnished oak that runs half the length of the room, polished brass rails adorn the edge and thirteen high wood tap handles to draw imported beer stand as tall guardians over a wall of mirrors behind a congregation of bar glasses waiting like soldiers on glass shelves to be filled with your favorite potion. The outside bar is a Tiki Hut motif, glasses hanging from the ceiling; one can hear the hum of blenders making daiquiris and margaritas all summer long. The view is of the Tred Avon River and the mansions that line her shores. Just outside the restaurant is the boat dock, where sit the prestigious crafts of the patron’s and some locals. There sit everything from fourteen foot Whalers to sixty-foot cabin cruisers and motor yachts, an impressive gathering of nautical status symbols.

One of the good ole boys that spends his time at the Oaks is Doug Carlson. Doug is, to use the term loosely, an investor, although he’s not a very good one. He manages to make a hit here and there but puts less effort and study into his investment choices than a day trader with a hashish habit. He’s much more lucky than good. Doug has been lucky in other ways too. He lives primarily off of a trust given to him by his father. This affords Doug the lifestyle to which he has become accustomed. Being an only child born to a wealthy man, Doug was the apple of his father’s eye, and as such, his upbringing was much as you might think. Raised by nannies and servants, he was more than a bit spoiled. His father being a more practical man tried his best to instill in Doug a sense of value and responsibility, but he found it a difficult task.

Doug found ways of entertaining himself when he was a boy and was raised mostly by the people who worked taking care of his father’s house and property. He was used to getting his way and became quite astute at manipulating the people in his life. Doug could be a sort of brat when he was younger, but he learned to curtail his emotions as he grew older, but every once in a while, even now, the brat in Doug would still come out. Doug grew into a handsome young man. He’s tall, around six feet; bright blonde hair that he keeps combed straight back and pale blue eyes. He is a little too thin for his height, but presents a lean rather than skinny look. Doug is popular with the ladies to, at least until they get to know him. His glib demeanor and charm is disarming but it doesn’t take long for most to see through the facade to the real Doug Carlson beneath.

Doug would hang out at the Oaks with his best friend and college roommate Skip Patterson. Skip’s upbringing was different than Doug’s. Skip came from what you might call an upper middle class family. Skip’s was what most would consider a “normal” family. Normal in the sense that there was a mother and a father, a car in the garage, and a faithful canine companion at his father’s feet as he read the paper on Sunday mornings. Skip was also raised in relative comfort but Skip’s attitude was different than Doug’s. Sure, he had everything he needed and most things he wanted, but he learned the value of hard work and understood the contributions and salience of his fellow man.

Together Skip and Doug were a pair of ace’s, young and attractive, athletic and smart. To look at them or meet them for the first time you would think they were the original all Americans. Skip was as handsome as his pal Doug, but in a different way. Skip wasn’t quite as tall as Doug around five foot ten. Skip had dark hair, which accented his light brown eyes. His longish hair tended to fall over his right eye and he had a habit of always brushing it away from his face with the back of his hand. Skip had a more rugged look than Doug. He was heavier with a more muscular build. He didn’t look like a weightlifter, but you could see he was no stranger to the gym. Doug was not the only person Skip met in college, he also met lacey, his fiancé. Skip adored Lacey but marriage and family weren’t the foremost things on his mind at the moment. You see Skip and Doug were in the middle of a big deal. They were considering going into business together.

The Oaks is owned and operated by Harry Sheehan, a Bostoner who fell in love with the charming little riverside town of Oxford while vacationing there. Harry is second generation Irish. He is short and stout with a big barrel chest and a belly to go with it. He is a little moody though; you never know what you might get with Harry. He can be very jovial, but he can be very cantankerous at times. Harry has a full head of mostly grey hair that used to be a dark chestnut red, and it grows in every direction. His bushy eyebrows are much the same growing willy nilly with some long thick curly hairs bunched in towards the center. When his blood is up as a result of anger or a good belly laugh his face brightens as red as Saint Nick’s coat. Harry’s health isn’t the best though as a result of his temper, his blood pressure and his fondness for scotch. His doctor has advised him to take it easy, and that’s just what Harry thinks he wants to do.

When Harry bought the Oaks it wasn’t much more than a little tavern. The now main building is attached to the original tavern, which is an old stone building. The original stone building was once a three-story colonial style farmhouse, which was turned into a tavern in the latter half of the eighteenth century. It is rich with history. It had served as a hiding place for runaway slaves on their way north to freedom; it also served many a smuggler and spy who used the rivers and inlets of the Chesapeake Bay to avoid detection or capture. During the Civil war divided loyalties erupted one night in the old tavern and the resulting brawl left a union sympathizer and a young servant girl dead.

When Harry bought the Oaks in 1972 he had bigger plans. He didn’t want to loose the charm of the old stone structure and he didn’t want to change the original atmosphere of the place, but he did want to upgrade. As time went on he was able to add the larger modern bar, than the Tiki bar outside, and as boaters began to show up at his small dock he had to expand it to what it is today, two long docks with enough slips to accommodate 60 boats and a long dock at the end of the pier that can handle a 120 foot yacht. He left the original stone structure to serve as the restaurant. The old building and large hearth add a great deal of character to the place; it’s an inviting dinner spot for locals during the slow winter months. He kept the inside of the restaurant the original brick, painted white and decorated it with colonial paintings. Scenes of redcoats embroiled in battle with colonists, landscapes, and period portraits hang throughout. A large Swaine seascape is hung over the fireplace. Harry had painstakingly poured himself into his work and his little corner of the world. To him there was no better place on earth.

“Lets face it Harry, it’s a nice place, upscale and popular, but it’s still just a tavern,” said Doug.

“Young man, I’ve put my life’s blood into making this place what it is today. I won’t see it turned into a cheap corner bar!” barks Harry.

“Now Harry, I wouldn’t want to change a thing. Why mess with perfection? What I want to do is expand! Picture this! Out back, just beyond the storehouse, a Hotel! And I’m not talking about a Motel 6 here Harry, Three stories; the first floor would house the reception area, a ballroom, meeting facilities etc. The second floor would have fifty rooms, nice rooms, each with a sitting area separate from the sleep area, work areas with high speed Internet access, tastefully decorated and wallpapered. The third floor, suites, solely for the use of our most influential and affluent guests; and priced accordingly”

“And where would you get the capital for all of this Doug, your father I suppose? How does he play into all this?”

“I haven’t even discussed this with him Harry. Besides, I have a partner.”

“Who,” asked Harry?

“Skip Patterson wants to go in with me.”

“Well Skip’s a fine fellow, but I think you may be biting off a bit more than you can chew here son. Running a saloon is one thing, what you’re considering would take millions of dollars, a staff of waiters and cooks and housekeepers, bookkeepers and accountants. There’s a lot to consider”.

“Well like you said before Harry, I have my father to help me along. Look, you’ve been talking about retiring for a couple of years now. Don’t you think it’s about time you started to relax a little? I mean, who needs these headaches, right?”

“Well, your right about that. I would like to enjoy life a little more now, while I still have some left!”

“Harry, I don’t expect to do all of this over night. Think about what this place was when you bought it and what it is now. We’ll make changes gradually as we’re able the same way you did. Think of a price Harry, I’m sure we can get together on this thing”

“I’ll do that Doug, but I want you to understand this, you get more than meets the eye with this place,” said Harry.

“Are you kidding me Harry? You don’t actually buy into the stories about this place do you? Ha ha ha!! C’mon Harry”.

“Well kid, where there’s smoke there’s fire and I’ve seen some weird things over the years.”

Doug left the Oaks and headed over to Skip’s to tell him about the conversation he had with Harry. Doug’s mind was spinning with ideas about the Oaks. More especially what the hotel would be like. Doug had high hopes for the hotel, but he didn’t have the funds to get it started. Between him and Skip they barely had the money to buy the Oaks as it was, and they were going to have to go into debt for a good portion of that. Doug pictured the posh hotel in his mind’s eye: A grand white building with Lanais running the along the front, a slate roof, circular driveway leading up to the front door where uniformed valets would take the guest’s luggage and park their cars. He imagined celebrities, politicians, and important business people showing up at his hotel to hold high power meetings, put on lavish balls or just relax and enjoy a week or two by the river.

Doug calls Skip on his cell.

“Skipper, I’m out in front of your place. C’mon down”. Skip comes down and gets into Doug’s car.

“What’s up Doug?”

“I just met with Harry and asked him about us buying the Oaks.”

“What did he say?”

“He’s on the fence. Doesn’t think we can handle it. But I think he’ll come around. In fact he agreed to think about a price.”

“It’s a start. Gee Doug, I know we talked about this but I really didn’t think it was going to happen.”

“Your not getting cold feet on me are you? I need you in on this thing with me. I can’t do it alone.”

“Don’t worry about me,” said Skip. “I’m in all the way”.

“Good let’s head into Easton and have a drink to celebrate” said Doug.

“Don’t you want to go over to the Oaks?” asked Skip.

“Not this time. I want to be able to have a drink to celebrate the future without actually thinking about it”.

“Ok by me Doug, let’s go”.

Meanwhile, back at the Oaks the night was just beginning. The bar was getting busy, guests were arriving for dinner, and Harry, looking out over the crowd, was contemplating what life would be like after he retired. As much as he loved his business and his customers he was ready to take some time and relax. He thought to himself tonight I’ll just sit back and see what happens. Harry fixed himself a scotch and water and leaned back against the bar. He looked around the room. A gathering of young couples laughed playfully enjoying each other’s company with a few cocktails at the end of the bar, some boaters coming in for cold beers after a hot day on the water gathered at a table by the window, some of the local regulars had stopped in for drinks and the company of their friends and neighbors. Harry looked the other way now over his left shoulder. Down the hallway, through the darkness, leading to the dining room and the old building, he could just see some of the diners sitting at the tables in the red hues of the candlelight, sipping cocktails and patiently waiting for what they knew would be a fine dinner. The Oaks had a reputation amongst the locals and frequent visitors to the area as having some of the best crab dishes in Talbout County. Crab cakes, Crab Chellew, and Red Crab Soup. Steamed crabs and sweet corn on the cob, always a favorite, were available in the bar. Harry spent the evening mingling with his guests, as he often would. He left the diners in the restaurant to their meals but he would flit around the bar like a politician, shaking hands and exchanging niceties with everyone he knew and even some he didn’t. You couldn’t spend much time in Oxford and not get to meet Harry, and you couldn’t spend an hour in his bar and not have him stop to greet you. As the crowd began to thin out later in the evening Harry leaned back against the bar and couldn’t help but think to himself “Why would anyone want to change this?” But Doug had other things in mind.

Doug knew that he was fighting an uphill battle. Harry wasn’t as ready to sell and retire as he might sometimes let on and Skip was not as gung ho about building a hotel in the grand style that Doug had planned. Skip was under the impression that they were going to take it slow and Doug let him go on believing that.

“Good morning Harry,” said Doug enthusiastically as he entered the Oaks the next morning.

“Hi Doug,” replied Harry.

“Look Doug, I don’t think I’m quite ready to hang up my apron just yet. I have to admit that I still feel quite an attachment to the old place.”

“Harry if you don’t retire soon you may not be able to retire at all. Now I’m willing to make you an offer of”

“No,” Interrupted Harry! My minds made up; at least for the time being. Give me another couple of years Doug and I may reconsider, but for now I can’t imagine not having this place to come to every day. “

”A couple of years! But Harry, you haven’t even heard my offer.”

“And I don’t need to! It’s not about the money young man. When you get to be my age you’ll understand that there are more important things in life than money. This place has become a part of me. It defines who I am. Not to mention the fact that I’ve spent a number of years turning it into what it is today. I’m simply not able to just walk away, at least not yet.”

“Harry, be reasonable. You’ve said yourself that it takes too much out of you and that you want to do other things.”

“My mind’s made up!”

Doug was speechless, he went away disgruntled; his dream of owning an upscale hotel seemingly crushed, and Doug wasn’t the sort to wait around for something he wanted.

Doug called Skip on his cell. “Skip, I talked to Harry; he’s still undecided.”

“Well there’s no great big hurry Doug,” said Skip. “The Oaks isn’t going anywhere while Harry makes up his mind. Did you present him our offer?……………Doug?”

“Skip, I’m having trouble hearing you. I think my connection must be bad. I’ll talk to you later.”

“This is a fucking disaster. A couple of years! Is he nuts? I can’t sit around and wait a couple of years for this old fart to change his mind. I knew he would be a tough sell but shit! How can I get Harry to change his mind?” Doug thought to himself.

Meanwhile, Skip breathed a little sigh of relief. Although he was excited about the prospect of owning his own business he was concerned about Doug’s grandiose ideas and how he was going to be able to keep him grounded. He was also concerned with going into debt with Doug. Although he considered Doug to be his closest and most trusted friend he knew Doug could be a little irresponsible and venturesome. Skip saw the renovation and addition of the hotel as a gradual process, whereas Doug was ready to break ground tomorrow if he could. Skip saw this delay as an opportunity to try and talk some sense into Doug and maybe slow him down a bit.

“Hello”

“Hello, Lacey”

“Hi Skip honey”

“I just got off the phone with Doug and Harry still hasn’t made a decision about selling.”

“That’s too bad,” said Lacey.

“Not really,” said Skip. “This will give me some time to talk to Doug and maybe get him to settle down a bit. You know how he is, once he gets an idea in his head it’s hard to change his mind.” Lacey was all too familiar with Doug’s tenacity. Once while they were all still in College, and as of yet unbenounced to Skip, Lacey and Doug had what you might call a one night stand. As with many of the women Doug met he was very charming with Lacey at first, but that all changed in very short order. She reflected back on that night. She had gone to a party with some of her friends at the vacation home one of their parents in Ocean City. As with many college age kids there was a great deal of drinking and partying going on. That’s where Lacey met Doug. Doug turned on the charm and never let Lacey’s glass stay empty long. It was a strategy he had employed many times before. He was an expert at learning about people. He asked Lacey about her likes and dislikes. He found out what turned her on and pretended to be her perfect match. Doug painted a picture of perfection of himself before her very eyes. And the illusion that he created was that of what a perfect relationship she would have with him. He weaved little lies into his conversation and manipulated her through her own words. The alcohol he kept feeding her was just the right catalyst to get her to open up to him. And the more she talked the easier it became for him. With her own words she provided him everything he needed to accomplish his goal. He was smooth as glass and he seemed to turn a lifetime into a day. So when he asked her to go for a walk out to the boathouse she didn’t find anything strange in it. “Let’s go inside and see the new boat Amy’s parents bought,” Doug said. Lacey followed him into the boathouse. “Climb aboard Lacey,” said Doug.

“It’s a beautiful boat,” said Lacey. “Do you really think its ok for us to be out here while everyone else is inside?”

“Sure”, said Doug “Besides, who’s going to know we’re here?” and that’s just what Doug wanted.

“What kind of boat is it Doug?”

“It’s a Bertram. Look they have a mini bar. C’mon down and I’ll fix you a drink”

“I don’t know? I feel a little funny being here.”

“C’mon” Doug said giving her a shy little smile as he a little more than gently pulled her down into the cabin.

“Hey, take it easy. I’ll come down for a drink, but then we have to get back.”

“Ok” said Doug.

Lacey nestled comfortably into the corner of the sofa that wrapped around the interior of the boat. Doug sat down next to her and handed her a drink. He slipped his arm around her shoulder and moved in for a kiss, which she took in deeply. They continued to kiss, long and deep. She could feel his hot breath on her neck and she could smell the alcohol on his lips. He moved in over her and she pushed back saying,

“No Doug, we just met.” But Doug pressed up against her running his hand up her thigh and pushing her short skirt up.

He turned her on but she always respected herself. She tried to push him away but he was too heavy. She pleaded with him now in a small voice to stop, but it was too late. Doug ripped her panties to one side and with the dexterity of a wrestler in one move reached behind her hips and pulled her towards him. She gasped as he entered her. She knew it was wrong. She felt him hot and hard thrusting and grinding her. She continued to try and fight and squirm away, but the more she moved the harder he held her in place. She couldn’t help being turned on all the while knowing it was wrong. She could feel herself giving in and beginning to feel the heat of passion. She felt like a dirty slut and steamy hot all at the same time. Her emotions where conflicting with her conscience. But her guard was down and finally she said to herself, what the hell and gave in completely. Doug could feel that she had stopped struggling and he loosened his grip on her body. He continued to thrust deeper now and grind away at her with his pelvis. Lacey pushed back and moaned as she felt the waves of pleasure rippling through her body. They continued and the session grew hotter and faster, Lacey was meeting every thrust now with her own, she bit down hard on her lip as the orgasm rushed over her skin and finally he let loose and moaned loudly as he climaxed.

The next day Lacey wasn’t quite sure how it happened. She kept asking herself: Did I lead him on? Was this my fault? She replayed the events of the night in her head, at least what she could remember. Everything was so fuzzy and clouded! She felt frustrated and violated, not only by Doug but also by herself. “How could I let something like this happen?” She felt alone and empty. She didn’t even know his last name. She had no way of contacting him. He must just think I’m such a slut! She said.

Doug, on the other hand, knew exactly what he had done. For him things went according to plan. He had no intention of ever seeing her again or of her ever finding out who he was. He had made the perfect getaway and he couldn’t help but smile to himself.

They didn’t see each other again until Skip introduced her to Doug a few months later. “Doug, this is the girl I was telling you about. I’d like you to meet Lacey.” Lacey’s heart dropped as she saw Doug again for the first time since that night in the boathouse. By this time her thoughts had cleared and she knew what he had done. Doug played it cool. He introduced himself as though they had never met. But she could see in his eyes that he remembered her. “I’m going to get a drink. You guys want?” said Skip. “That would be great” said Lacey.

“Sure bud” said Doug.

“How have you been Lacey?” said Doug.

“Fine; this is a bit awkward to say the least”.

“Look, Skip’s my best friend and I don’t want to say anything that might hurt him. So I think the best thing we can do is just forget about what happened. From what he’s told me he thinks the world of you and he doesn’t need to know how you really are”

Fury was building inside Lacey, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of letting him see it.

“You’re a bastard.” She said calmly.

“I know.” Doug said glibly.

Lacey had to think fast. She hated the idea of lying to Skip or hiding anything from him. It wasn’t her. She was a good and honest person, but Doug had put her in a tough spot and she had to think fast.

“Ok, let just forget about it. It was a mistake,” said Lacey

Now Lacey thinks keeping it from Skip all this time has been a mistake. She hates having this thing hanging over her head, but it’s too late to tell him now.

As is becoming his habit of late, Harry is still hanging around the Oaks after closing time reminiscing. Harry walks around the outside of the building. He can hear the water softly splashing the shore. He watches the moonlight reflecting on the water, and the silhouettes of the boats moored just a few yards off shore all create a such a peaceful setting that Harry wanders down to one of the lounge chairs near the beach and lays back to take it all in. Soon Harry drifts off to sleep. The rays of the next morning’s sun through the trees disturb Harry’s sleep. When he wakes he realizes that he had been out there all night. He squints hard at the sun shining in his eyes and sits up. He throws off the blanket covering him and suddenly realizes that it wasn’t there when he dozed off. He knows he didn’t bring it with him. “That’s odd? A Good Samaritan must have come by during the night and covered me up while I was sleeping. Maybe Bill came back for something?” Harry walks back up to the restaurant where the bartender, Bill, has come in to get things ready for the upcoming day.

“Was it you that covered me up out there Bill?” he asks.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about Harry.”

“Well it seems I dozed off out on one of the chaise lounges last night and someone was good enough to lay a blanket across me while I was sleeping. Good thing too, it got a little chilly out there. I might have caught my death. Bill, if someone happens by to retrieve their blanket could you make sure they get it back with my thanks?”

“Sure Harry, toss me the blanket and I’ll set in the back in case someone comes looking for it.”

“Here you go Bill”

“That’s funny,” said Bill. “This is the old blanket that’s been laying up in the closet for I don’t know how long”

“Can’t be,” said Harry. “I was the only one here last night and the place was locked up tighter than a drum, alarm turned on and everything has to be a different blanket.”

“I don’t think so, I’d recognize it anywhere. It’s an old wool blanket and an odd shade of red with a sort of sun burst design in the center. Not something you’d pick up at Wal Mart.” Bill opened the closet door where the blanket usually was and there was an obvious vacancy. “See Harry, this is where it usually is. I think you may have had a visit from our illusive friend last night.”

“Bahh! You’re giving me the willies. I’m going home to get cleaned up. I’ll be by later.”

“Ok Harry, see you later. If your benevolent friend comes by I’ll be sure to thank her for you.”

Harry tried to shake off the implication that Bill had made but it wasn’t the first time strange things had happened at the Oaks. Decorations rearranged a fire in the hearth that no one remembers lighting, odd sounds and slight glimpses of someone just out of the corner of the eye. Never any harm done but there was always the sense of another presence, an obvious female presence that took pride in the Oak’s appearance and was always on the lookout for things out of place, or there to add that touch of beauty and class that Harry and Bill sometimes missed, a woman’s touch. Table settings would arrange themselves or a bouquet of flowers that no one picked would appear in a vase on a table that no one placed there.

Harry often wondered who the spirit was and why she was so attached to the place. The stone building was very old and it had a number of owners and frequent guests. It could have been any one of them. Harry didn’t worry about it too much. She hadn’t frightened anyone away and she certainly wasn’t there to harm anyone, so he thought, “Why should it bother me?” But it did, just a little. No matter how benevolent, the possibility of a ghost hanging around was still just a bit unsettling.

So Harry was making his way home, which was just a short walk from the Oak’s up Tilghman Street and around the corner to his little house on Morris Street. It was a beautiful summer morning and Harry was enjoying the fresh air lightly blowing in off the Tred Avon River. The trees were full of green leaves, birds were chirping, flowers blooming in the finely kept gardens of the houses along Morris Street. Beautiful cape cods and colonials line the street, some with white picket fences or stylish wrought iron surrounding the manicured lawns and picturesque landscaping of the old homes. It was a Normal Rockwell painting come to life. Harry was enjoying the morning so much that he decided to head down to the docks instead of going straight home. At the end of Morris Street is the ferry dock that takes travelers across the river to the little village of Bellevue. The ferry shortens the trip for those going to St. Michaels or Tilghman Island. Harry looked out over the water to see the commercial crab boats running their trotlines out in the river; pleasure boaters zipping to and fro on motor boats, or sail boats lumbering by. There was never a shortage of boats on the water this time year. But with all this activity his little town of Oxford managed to stay fairly quiet. Sure there were a few tourists that frequented the little antique shops or eateries along the main drag, but it was still a peaceful place, and that’s just the way he wanted to keep it. “I’ll not allow the likes of Doug Carlson to turn this haven into some corporate yuppie conference center and bring in a bunch of developers and other money grubbers to ruin it!” he thought to himself. With that, Harry headed home. He walked in the door and saw the light on his answering machine was blinking. He hit the play button and “Hey Harry its Doug Carlson. I was wondering if we could discuss” click! Harry abruptly ends the message and says out loud to himself, “Not on my watch you won’t! Not while there’s breath in my body!” Harry wasn’t about to stop there. Harry had been an active member of the Oxford community for years. He was a member of the chamber of commerce and the town council; he was a freemason and had been a volunteer fireman. In a small town like Oxford Harry had some influence. He knew the right people and the right people liked Harry and were willing to go to bat for him. So over the next few weeks Harry started attending meetings and letting people know how he felt about development and expansion in and around Oxford. Harry not only made sure that the Oaks was going to remain as it was, but that no one else with big ideas like Doug Carlson was going to come in and change the way of life in Oxford.

“Good morning Bill.”

“Good morning Harry. Haven’t seen you around much lately”

“I’ve been busy Bill. I’ve decided I’m not going to retire”

“That’s good Harry. The place wouldn’t be the same without you. Doug Carlson’s been sniffing around here a lot lately, more than usual. What’s he up to?”

“He’s got it in his head that he’s going to buy this place, but he’s in for a big surprise and an even bigger disappointment. When he finds out I’m not selling he’ll have to take his ideas of a big hotel and conference center somewhere else.”

“I don’t think the town council would ever pass that anyway do you Harry?”

“You never know what people will do when there’s money involved, so I’ve been making sure they wouldn’t pass any proposal that might take away from what Oxford is today. After all, it’s our hometown atmosphere and slow pace that attracts the visitors. If the likes of Doug Carlson were to change that we’d be trading our current tourists for them café latte drinkin gobshites from over in Baltimore or worse from Washington D.C.!”

“Don’t look now Harry but here comes Doug up the walk.”

“Jeez! Tell em you haven’t seen me” as Harry slips into the kitchen.

“Hey Bill”

“Hey Doug”

“Have you seen Harry around this morning?”

“Earlier, he said something about Baltimore”

“Shoot, I’ve been trying to get in touch with him for weeks. Do you know when he’ll be back?”

“Hard to say when he’ll pop up”

“Well draw me a beer Bill”

“You got it”

Harry hears the conversation between Bill and Doug and decides he can’t hide in the kitchen forever. Besides, it’s not like him to duck a fight. “Well, I don’t want to make Bill out to look like a liar, so I’ll slip out by the loading dock and come in the front.”

Harry walks in through the bar door and approaches Doug and Bill.

“Hey Harry, I’ve been looking all over for you” says Doug.

“I know you have.”

“I’d like you to reconsider selling and at least listen to our offer.”

Harry remains calm, knowing that he has made up his mind and that he has covered his bases; he knows there’s no need to be confrontational with Doug.

“Doug, I’ve decided I’m not going to sell. Not now, not ever. I’m going to sort of semi retire. I plan to hire an accountant and payroll manager to take care of the things that give me a headache and I’m just going to tend to the things I enjoy. Managing the day to day and enjoying the company of my guests, menu planning that sort of thing.”

Doug’s face begins to turn a shade of red as the anger builds. “You’re not giving me a chance to present our side Harry.”

“You don’t have a side in this Doug. This is my place and I’ll do with it as I see fit.”

Doug’s mind is racing as he thinks of what to say next, but nothing comes.

Harry sees that Doug is frustrated and he tries to calm him down.

“Doug, there are plenty of opportunities for an ambitious and enterprising young lad like yourself. There’s no sense in hanging all your hopes on one idea or one place. If things don’t work out the way you want you move on to the next thing. The sooner you learn that the sooner you’ll understand business. You may not always be able to get what you want, but there are always other opportunities”

But Doug was used to getting what he wanted and without thinking his anger boiled over. “You’re a stupid old man, who can’t see what’s in front of his face!”

“You better watch yourself boy, I ain’t as old as you think!”

“Fuck you!”

Whap! Harry lands a right hook on Doug’s chin, knocking him flat on his ass. Harry is on his feet now prepared for a fight, but it doesn’t come. This was something new to Doug. Even as a kid in the schoolyard no one ever took a swing at him. He was in shock and just sat there on the ground holding his chin.

“Get up if you’ve got any fight in ya!” bellows Harry. But Doug just looks up at him with contempt.

“Just as I suspected, a lot of mouth.”

Harry turns and walks back towards the door. Doug yells, after he knows Harry is gone: “This fight’s not over old man!”

“You’re a witness Bill. You saw him hit me. I’ll sue his ass and then this place will be mine!”

“I didn’t see anything Doug. Don’t know what you’re babbling about.”

“Oh, so that’s how it is. You’ll be sorry you chose the wrong side in this.” Doug leaves.

“Is he gone?” Harry says as he sticks his head out of the kitchen. Harry doubled back through the loading dock the way he had gone out.

“Yeah, he’s gone. That was beautiful Harry! Knocked him right on his ass! Ha haaa!!”

“I didn’t think I had it in me. I haven’t took a poke at anyone since I left Boston thirty years ago.”

“How’d it feel?”

“Pretty damn good, I have to say. Better set me up with a bourbon Bill, settle me down a bit”

“You got it boss.”

Doug jumps into his car and speeds off down the road and says to himself, “That son of a bitch! He’s not going to get away with that!” As Doug continues to drive he begins to calm down. He realizes that he can’t have him arrested, its Doug’s word against Harry’s, and he doesn’t want to draw any attention to the incident. “I’ll wait until he’s alone. He likes to hang around after the place closes and have a nightcap. That’s when I’ll take care of him. With no family and no one to leave the place to, it will have to be auctioned off. If I play this right I can get the Oaks without much of a fight, and probably save some money in the process. I should have thought of this before. Who needs that old man around anyway! I’ll wait a few days for this to blow over. I’ll even make nice with the old creep so it looks like we’ve made up before I do it. Then when the times right I’ll take him out. It’s perfect!”

So Doug went back to the Oaks the next day. When Bill saw him coming he said to Harry, “Don’t look now Harry but Doug Carlson is headed towards the door.”

“Is the Sheriff with him?”

“No, he’s alone.”

“Good morning Harry; Bill.”

“Hey Doug” replied Bill; Harry said nothing but just sort of stared him down trying to figure out what he was up to.

“Harry I wanted to apologize for flying off the handle yesterday. This is your place and you have every right to do whatever you feel is right for you. But if you ever change your mind let know. I’m still interested.”

“Doug, you surprise me. Maybe you’ll turn into a gentleman after all. Let me buy you a drink. What’ll you have?”

“Beer”

“Two beers Bill”

So Harry and Doug seemed to patch things up and spent the next hour drinking beer and talking. Doug listened to Harry’s stories about growing up in Boston and how he lost his wife to cancer. Doug actually seemed interested in what Harry had to say but it was all just a ruse. In Doug’s mind he murdered Harry over and over again as he listened. He fantasized about how he would do it. As Harry was talking Doug was surveying the grounds around the Oaks. Over there, near the docks, I could smash his big red melon head in with a rock and dump him in the river he thought. Or I could hide in one of the bushes and jump out behind him and cut his throat or plunge the blade deep through the his back until I saw it re-emerge out of his chest glistening bloody steel in the moonlight.

“Doug, have I lost you? You look like your somewhere else.”

Poor Harry just thought he was boring Doug with his yarns, but Doug was definitely somewhere else.

“Huh? Oh no, I think the beer is just getting to me. I think I’ll take off. Thanks for the chat Harry. I’m glad we were able to patch things up.”

“Think nothing of it son.”

Doug leaves and Harry heads over to the bar.

“You know Bill; he might be alright after all”

“Mmm, I guess, if you say so Harry. I never thought much of him myself.”

“Awe, he’s just a little spoiled is all; has some growing up to do. He’ll come around.”

Coming around was just what Doug had planned to do.

Over the course of the following weeks Doug continued to hang out at the Oaks with Skip and his pals just as he had planned. Everything seemed to be back to normal. The constant talk of buying the Oaks and building a conference center and high-end hotel from Doug had ceased. He and Skip settled back into their normal routine.

The crowds around town were thinning out as the season wore on. It was September now and the tourists had all but stopped coming into town. Kids back to school, working people back to their jobs. It would continue to slow down into the winter. Doug knew the time to strike was at hand. So he started waiting and watching. The Strand ran along the end of the little peninsula that Oxford sat on and from the end of the Strand Doug could see the Oaks. He would watch as Harry wandered around the grounds late at night. Sometimes Harry would walk home; sometimes he would fall asleep in one of the hammocks or lounge chairs placed near the water at the Oaks. But he always came out the side and walked down the length of the building along which was a thick row of bushes.

A perfect place to hide. Doug thought.

“I’ll hang out until everyone has left and slip into the bushes. When he comes out for his evening stroll I’ll crush his head with a rock and take his wallet. It will look like a robbery.” So Doug hung out at the bar until closing time. A few drinks for courage and he slipped into the bushes when no one was looking and waited. His mind started racing with anticipation, and fear. He waited an hour, then two. This was too much time to think and reconsider what he was about to do.

“Where was Harry?” he thought. “A robbery, am I crazy? No one has been robbed around here in…. ever! No one would buy that! I must be nuts!” Just then he heard the door shut on the side of the building that Harry usually exits. He was coming.

“What should I do? I don’t have this planned out right. I haven’t thought this through! I have to go through with it. I may not get another chance.” Doug’s adrenaline was pumping now as he waited. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Harry was coming closer. Doug’s heart was beating faster. He picked up the rock he was going to use. Just then Harry stopped and began looking around as if he knew something was wrong. Doug’s heart was beating so hard he wondered if Harry might be able to hear it. Harry began walking again towards the spot where Doug was hiding. Harry stopped right in front of Doug. His back was to Doug. All Doug had to do was rise up and bring the rock down hard on Harry’s head and it would be done. But he was gripped by fear. He tried to stand but couldn’t move. He was frozen. His muscles locked in place. It felt like fire was running through his veins. His pulse pounded in his temples! Just as Doug gathered the courage to strike, Harry turned and walked away, heading up Tilghman Street towards home. Doug fell back exhausted and a little relieved. “I have to think this through better. It could have been a disaster if I had gone through with this tonight. The cops would have been all over me if they found Harry’s body out here. No one would ever buy a robbery around here.” Harry was gone so Doug took the opportunity to look around while he was there. There weren’t very many secluded places where he would be able to hide. The pier! I could hide under the pier and when Harry walked out onto it I could reach up from underneath and grab his leg. He would trip and fall and break his neck or fracture his skull, or get knocked unconscious. It would look like an accident. Everyone knows that Harry drinks; he could easily get drunk and drown. So the next night Doug waited once again for everyone to leave. He snuck out to the pier and slipped underneath the boards where the end of the pier is buried in the sand. What he didn’t count on was all of the other creatures that reside under the pier. Up under the boards were Spiders and a million webs; creepy little beetles and all sorts of nasty bugs. It was hot and very humid that night. Doug could feel the sweat running down the small of his back. He hated being under there. His flesh began to crawl and to make matters worse Harry was taking more time than usual coming out of the bar. As Doug was sitting there under the pier he scooted up as far as he dare go to avoid the spiders and other assorted bugs when he noticed something else. The tide was coming in. The longer he sat there the further he had to scoot up towards the snarl of webs that crowded the underside of the pier to avoid the rising water. He scooted up further and then he suddenly felt something crawl across the back of his neck! He dove out from under the pier in a panic. He stood up quickly pulling and swatting at his neck, cold shivers running down the entire length of his body making him quake with repulsion. “I can’t do this! Home, shower, now” he thought. Harry on the other hand never did go on his little walk that night. As he was about to go out he heard water running in the kitchen. He walked into the dark kitchen and turned on the light.

“Bill must have hit the faucet as he was cleaning up.” He thought. But when he tried to turn the faucet off the handle felt loose. He could turn it freely but it didn’t change the flow of the water. He tried applying pressure to it and tilting it. He pushed and pulled but nothing happened. Just as he thought he was going to have to turn off the water main and call a plumber he gave it one last try and the water shut off with ease. He turned it back on, then off again a few times with no problem. “Huh? That’s odd”, he thought. Coincidentally, at the same instant Doug was diving out from under the pier.

Doug had finally come to the realization that he was no killer; he needed professional help. Doug also knew that he would have to go outside of his regular circle of friends to find someone to carry out this deed. His father would never be involved in anything like this, Skip wouldn’t know anyone either. However he did know someone who had ties to some shady characters that might be able to help him out. When Doug was growing up he spent a great deal of his childhood under the watchful eye of his Father’s housekeeper Pamoja. Pamoja was as close to a mother as Doug ever knew. She was a large black woman from the West African country of Togo. On the outside she was a good Christian woman, but on the inside she had been steeped in Vudun, a religion much akin to Haitian Voodoo. As a young boy Doug bore witness to many of her Vudun rites and ceremonies. She would pray to Jesus and at the same time invoke various Vudun gods and goddesses depending on her need. She knew of many Vudun gods who governed different earthly realms. When Doug was a teenager she often prayed to a god called Legba. This was also around the time her daughter Dara had been sent away to live with relatives. Dara’s being sent away affected Doug deeply. Dara had been Doug’s playmate growing up and at one time he had even been in love with her. They were the best of friends when they were young. They played together and although they attended different schools, hers public and his, of course, a private school, they studied together. And as they grew into adolescence their friendship blossomed and stormed into a tempest of emotion and desire. They were too young to understand what was happening to them. All they could feel was the attraction that drew them together. It grew stronger and stronger with each passing day. They both knew it but were too shy and inexperienced to talk to each other about it. Pamoja could see it too. Finally on the occasion of Doug’s fifteenth birthday Dara gave him a little kiss to congratulate him just after he blew out the candles on his birthday cake. It wasn’t the first innocent kiss they shared; she had given Doug many over the years. But this time it was different. This time she looked into Doug’s eyes, and he into hers. This time she lingered just for a moment. Just long enough for Doug to see the longing in her eyes. In the following days they began to become aware of their mutual attraction and they knew it was only a matter of time before they acted on it. Doug was becoming a young man now and even then when he wanted something he wasn’t hesitant in making his desires known. “Dara.” He called to her quietly as she approached the back of the house where he had been waiting just beyond the row of hedges that lined the walk. He would never forget that day. It was early in the evening, the sun was just beginning to set and the sky was mixed hues of orange and blue. It was mid October and the air had just begun to cool as the night was moving in. The leaves on the trees had just begun to change color but were still mostly green. She walked over to him. She could see the intent in his eyes. As she drew near he slid his arm around the small of her back and gently but firmly pushed her up against the brick wall of the house between two dogwood trees and kissed her deeply. She returned his kiss with the deep passion that had been building up inside her. They were lost in their embrace and seemingly melted into each other as they continued to explore each other’s mouths with the lusty hunger of youth. She breathed heavily as Doug kissed her ear. He devoured her neck as a vampire drawing the last drops of life giving blood from his victim. And she felt her knees give way beneath her. “We have to stop. She gasped. My mother is expecting me back in the house. She’ll come looking for me any minute.”

“Ok. Can I see you again later?” he asked.

“Meet me in the garden at midnight. I’ll sneak out.”

“I can hardly wait”

And Doug didn’t wait. By ten thirty, once he was sure all had retired for the evening; he went down and waited in the garden. He sat there on a curved white concrete bench, a kind more decretive than practical, and waited nervously for Dara. The October night was cool but the garden was fragrant. He couldn’t help but shiver. He couldn’t tell if he was cold or just nervous. He heard the back screen door squeak open and wondered who could be coming? It was Dara she was anxious too. She was surprised to see him already there, but it made her feel happy inside to know that he was as impatient to see her again as she was to see him. She sat down next to him without saying a word. She leaned into him as he straddled the bench. His nervousness was gone. He all of the sudden felt quite at ease. It seemed the most natural thing for her to be in his arms. They began to kiss and as he kissed her he felt a cold chill running down his back. Then he realized it had begun to rain. By the time they felt the first few drops the sky had opened up and it was pouring. They scurried toward the greenhouse and went inside. Soaking wet, they laughed for a moment then resumed their kiss. He leaned her back on the patio recliner his father kept in the greenhouse. The soft deep cushion swallowed her and she felt as safe as in a cocoon. He kissed her deeply and began to unbutton her blouse. He stopped and looked into her eyes. She nodded for him to continue. Her breasts glistened, wet from the rain. He looked at them, perfect, round and dark. Her nipples were as dark as chocolate and just as inviting. He thought to himself that she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He fumbled ineptly trying to remove her skirt. She grabbed his hand. “Let me do it” she whispered. He watched with anticipation. She laid back, her light brown skin shone like topaz in the soft light. He slipped out of his jeans and moved over her. He began to push forward but stopped. He looked into her face and she into his. Then it happened, their virginity all at once fell aside as he sank into her. The air was cold, but she was warm. Her warmth enveloped him as they moved with each other. They could feel every ridge; every contraction sent them deeper into the abyss. They were the whole universe to each other now as if nothing else existed. Until she finally lurched forward in ecstasy and held him tight to her body, she sunk her teeth into his shoulder and her nails into his back, she felt the warm rush of his love and they fell spent into each other’s arms.


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