Takoma Blue or We are Independent Adults

As soon as I saw the ferry I wanted to escape to Woods Hole and drive back to the South. This wasn’t my home. This wasn’t my soul. The move was all his.

Takoma Blue

Martha’s Vineyard offers a bounty unto itself. The rhythmic secrets of the island paint the colors of my life. My people come from this jewel and to this jewel of the Cape. I am Wampanoag, Portuguese, and English. The wet brown mud sticks to my high green boots as I cross through the flower bed. I arrive at the grocery store a half an hour before my shift after picking up a cup of hot chocolate at Woodland. We are still getting snow storms in April followed by cold rain, so I want to be ready for the stream of islanders coming to my register. I like my job. It is social and mindless. I have been working at this job more than a month and I am a good cashier. Better than staying laid off or not working. Staff changes are common. People always move around the Vineyard or finally leave when jobs or rentals are scarce or high priced, which they always are. The Vineyard is a place like no other and it is the only home I know.

The store buzzes with early morning customers. I find myself ringing fast and furiously at register one. Most of the items are snack cakes, juices to go, and deli items from the cold case. The larger orders slam through later on. One of my best customers Zoë Kelly comes through with her colorful housemate Stephie Peterson. Zoë’s eyes dance when she sees me, but she says nothing to me at first. Her housemate drops a box of doughnuts on the belt. Zoë looks at the box and follows it with her mischeviuos eyes. “Doughnuts.” Her housemate Stephie is a beautiful vibrant woman. “Hey, Zoë, you know you are bringing them to work.”

“Yes.”

“You’ve already had cereal this morning.”

“And orange juice.”

“Yeah, girlfriend.”

“And coffee.”

“And sugar...”

“No way,” I say.

“…on the doughnut.”

Zoë watches me ring the doughnuts through the scanner. “Open it, please.”

I look at Zoë and then at Stephie.

“Just bag it, please, Maya.”

“Paper or plastic?”

Zoë says, “Paper. I’m going to work today.”

“Make the money, Zoë. You go, girl.”

“Yes. Bye, Maya.”

“Bye, Zoë. Bye, Steph.”

Zoë looks past Stephie at the man behind her in line. “Takoma. Takoma. Takoma Blue.”

I don’t understand what Takoma Blue reflects in Zoe’s mind, but she seems very intent on expressing it.

The good looking man smiles. “Hi, Zoë.”

“Hi, .” Zoë follows Stephie to the door. “Bye, Maya.”

I ring the man’s order up. All he throws down on the belt is a lemon Luna Bar. My hand scans the single bar over the red light. Beep. “Are these any good?”

He throws another one on the belt. This one says Chai Green Tea. “Not only are they good, they are made for women!” He grabs a Vineyard Gazette from the front rack.

I wait for him to pay, but he just grins at me like a fool.

“This will be an in house charge.”

“Oh.” I write up the blue and white charge slip.

He leans in and I feel a stirring within me which takes me by surprise. “3443.”

I run the charge through the register. “Last name.”

“Gage, Daniel. Hi. I work at the down island store.” He holds out his hand and I take it. I turn red. He laughs. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“I’ve just been working here for a month. I’m Maya Hill.”

“Nice to meet you, Maya Hill. I hope to see more of you soon.” He touches the brim of his Boston Red Sox cap. He breezes out of my line and out of the store. It takes a moment for me to focus on the next order.

I recognize this man deep down. Chills set in. I try to shake myself back into reality.

As the islanders come through my line I smile for the rest of my shift. It didn’t matter to me how short or tall the order is. I couldn’t forget the grinning man wearing the colors of Boston.

* * *

As I walked the beach on a gray afternoon, I desired to be totally alone. There was a time when I was afraid to be alone, believing that I couldn’t take care of myself. How does one explain having such a poor self-image? I was handicapped but my infirmity went unseen. The salt air struck my senses as I trudged through the sand. I didn’t care how far I walked or how the time was spent. My coat weighted by Lucy Vincent stones felt heavy and unreal, but I had a passion for placing them around my home. I thought they would keep me grounded.

Takoma Blue

I want to get to the beach before I go home to supper. I ran out of the store and hop into the car. My patience wears thin as I wait for the traffic to thin on State Road. Time at Lucy Vincent is too precious to me. I didn’t live in Chilmark and I am one of those people who has to make the most of the season before being barred from the beach. My wheels contact the pavement through West Tisbury. I love these woods so far away from town. I often catch my thoughts replaying the day against the backdrop of greenery. At one moment I think I will turn the wheel to Menemsha, but I am in the mood to walk, not toast the sunset with champagne. My eyes wish to take in the cliffs along Lucy Vincent. I have to sort out my feelings for this smiling stranger and make some sense of why I am so hung up on him.

I turn left into the entrance and bump along the sandy road to the parking area. There are two or three cars parked along the left side. I suspect the more sensible people are making supper instead of trekking to the beach. I don’t bother to lock my VW Bug. My feet make a good pace to the sandy path. How I love to take in the green grassy dunes and look at the perfect homes before turning my eyes to the ocean.

I seize my peace from the clean, sweet air. My solitude recaptured, it is time to go to the water. I remove my shoes and set them by a fence where other shoes are left by other walkers. As I scan the water I noticed no swimmers were adrift. It am still too cold for some, although I am sure some die-hard enthusiast would prove me wrong and be diving into the water at any moment.

I roll up my jeans like a child. Without thought, I walk into the cold water. I love the feeling I get from the cold, rushing salt water between my toes and across my feet. All the stress of the day rolls away with the water. The sounds of the stones crashing against one another sound like a large rain stick being tossed back and forth.

“It’s you.”

I think I’m dreaming of him, but Daniel stood beside me watching the waves crash in threes.

“Yes, who else would it be?” I ask trying to be cool and failing.

“Maybe it’s me.”

“That makes absolutely no sense.”

“Yes. Isn’t it wonderful?” He cocks his head to the side and laughs like a true, honest to goodness loon. I can’t help laughing with him and it actually is a relief to me.

I noticed that he shifts from mirth to meditation. He watches the waves come crashing into Lucy Vincent; he is just as thrilled as I am to be here. He keeps his work boots on, backing up when the water advance too close to him, while I prefer to stay in the swirling, cold touch of the Atlantic. His energy comes from a place of childhood wonder and fear. He watches me play without joining me in the wonder of the surf. Oxygen bathes me. Salt nourishes me. Daniel stands away and apart from nature. My heart fills with pity for him at what he is missing.

He blurts out, “My daughter would love this.”

I turn around. “Your daughter?”

“Yes, she lives in Takoma Park with her mother.”

“Do you see her often?”

“Not often enough. Her mother doesn’t allow her to leave Maryland much unless she’s with Tina.”

“That doesn’t seem right.”

“It isn’t fair the way Cheryl keeps us apart.”

“I’m so sorry. Can’t you ask your lawyer-“

“He says there’s nothing I can do except abide by her wishes.”

“When is she supposed to visit next?”

“Next month.”

“Next month? That’s no time at all.”

He wails, “A month is three lifetimes to me.” His mood shifts suddenly.

I pity him even deeper. “I know, but she will be with you soon.”

“You are not like my ex-wife.”

“Oh.” I am delving deeper with each moment. “It’s obvious that you love your daughter. Anyone would.”

“You are so understanding.”

“I’m just a good listener.”

“No, you have a good heart.” He smiles warmly, teeth flashing.

I smile with my eyes as I walk out of the surf.

Daniel offers his hand. I take his weathered hand. We follow the clay and dirt cliffs along the beach. The light is still strong and the beach is so lovely, we don’t wish to leave. I really like Daniel and feel safe with him. He seems to have had a hard life.

“Don’t get me wrong. We get along, but when she needs something, she uses Tina to get anything she wants. I feel so powerless, Maya.”

“You aren’t powerless, Daniel. You can reason with her.”

“You don’t know her. She’s a tigress about Tina.”

“Then you have to be a tiger, Daniel.”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe in time, things will change.”

“Maybe. I just miss Tina something awful.”

He picks up a stone and skips it in the water.

“I’m sure you will feel better once you are with her.”

“Yes,” he says. “I’m sure you are right.”

I try to change the conversation. “What do you say we go to Edgartown for Chinese food?”

“That would be great.”

We turn around and walk back with both our hands clasped together. The cliffs glow and reflect a golden light. Sea Plovers run to the surf. I watch them, thinking how I will help this man and daughter mend.

* * *

I love to go to Falmouth with Zoe and Stella to get good Chinese food. We enjoy the buffet. The steamed dumplings are heaven and the heaviness leaves me. When I am trapped on the island he always watches what I order and questions me if it doesn’t follow his thinking. I never order beef anymore. He wouldn’t let me live it down. I can have chicken chow mein without causing conflict, so that’s what I order every time we go out.

Takoma Blue

We walk through the red door of the restaurant. It is a quiet night. We sit alone in the dining room on our first date. I smile inwardly on how such a mystical event could take place in such a short amount of time. The Chinese waitress is focused upon returning to her take out desk which is always busier than the restaurant. Being the only Chinese restaurant on Martha’s Vineyard, this holds no great mystery. She follows us to the table and sets two menus in front of us before dashing back to the other room. No buffet awaits us. Daniel takes his Red Sox jacket off and keeps his Sox hat on. He hides behind the menu immediately. I already know I am ordering Chicken Chow Mein and a pot of jamine tea. Maybe some Won Ton soup or a vegetable roll. I avoid looking at Daniel’s menu. I feel it is a rude behavior, but I don’t say anything to spoil the moment.

He finishes, sliding his menu to the right. He looks a little sweet, wild, and restless. The waitress shoots back to our table. “Hi,”she says. “May I take your order?”

Daniel refers to me, silently gesturing with his hand. “I’m going to have the Chicken Chow Mein and a vegetable roll.”

“No soup?”

My head says a gentle no. “A pot of jasmine tea.”

“Five Spice Tofu and a vegetable roll.”

Daniel looks at me with favor.

“Is that all?” the waitress asks.

“Of course,” he says. She rushes back to the kitchen. “You order very well.”

“I’ve had lots of practice. I love Chinese food.”

“You eat meat?”

“Sometimes.”

“Do you ever eat tofu?”

“I’m allergic to it. I get deathly sick if I eat it.”

Takoma Blue sat in the corner of the sun porch.

“I think you need to go out and have some tests done.”