“Here’s to Adrianne,” said Steve, holding out his glass of wine.
“To Adrianne,” they all rejoin, their glasses
tinkling.
“I wonder what she might have become,” muses Linda.
Allan catches her eye, suddenly serious.
“She did quite well as captain of the Pirates.”
“That she did,” agrees Linda, a tear misting her
eye.
After Steve refills their wine glasses, he looks
from each to the other. “This has been
wonderful. Thank you all for
coming. As I told you on the phone, I
didn’t want to bow out without seeing each of you one last time.” Linda starts to say something sympathetic,
but Steve waves her gently to silence.
“No, I’m okay with this, really. The doctors give me about six months
and I’m determined to make the most of it.”
“Good for you buddy,” urges Allan, as the others smile sadly in empathy.
Then, deciding to break the melancholia which has
descended upon the group, Allan quips,
“Hey, remember the time we swiped those apples from Old Man Jenkins’ orchard?”
“And threw that rooster down the chimney of that
little church?” laughs Steve.
“Linda and I were grounded for a month,” joins in
Carolyn.
“How about the voyage of the Jolly Roger?”
“That one I remember all too well,” responded
Carolyn. “Did you ever tell anyone?”
There were negative nods all around amid the smiles.
Linda looks over to Allan. “Or what about the time you and Steve tried to put wings on your
bike and fly it over Tripplet Creek?”
the uproarious laughter garnering the attention of several of the other
patrons.
“That was the shortest flight in history.”
“Darn near broke my neck,” replies Allan with a
chuckle.
“Or how
about that time you dried the pods from that Indian Cigar Tree and we smoked
them?” giggles Linda.
“I was green for two days,” laughs Steve.
“The thing I remember most,” Carolyn adds, “is how
Adrianne was always getting us to bury things. She called it our pirate
treasure.”
“Yeah, my bottle cap collection is still out there
somewhere,” grins Allan.
“Then, she would draw a treasure map,” continues
Carolyn, “seal it in a bottle, and bury it.”
“And make us swear we would never tell,” muses
Steve.
“Secrets,” says Carolyn.
“Pirate secrets,” Allan replies.
“The Pirates of Pleasant Point,” concludes Linda
nostalgically.
There is a moment of silence, then a look of
inspiration crosses Steve’s face. “Hey,
what if we buried one last secret?
“What kind of secret? “ asks Linda.
“I don’t know.....suppose we each wrote a secret,
our own most private secret, the most cherished secret in our life, and sealed
it in a bottle.”
“Whoa, I’m not too sure of.....” starts Linda, but
Allan is already warming to the idea.
“Yeah, we could bury them at the old hideout.”
“Sure just like old times. What do you say?”
Linda and Carolyn momentarily exchange almost
painful glances. Neither is enthusiastic about the idea, but they see Steve’s
enthusiasm and do not wish to disappoint him.
“Oh, all right, ‘Captain.’ When and where?” smiles Carolyn weakly.