Blackwater Read online

  “I knew I recognized the name. Todd Green. I'm guessing you only accepted my call to gloat?” James said reedily. The tightened lips that hid his anger meant he could not force any authority in tone.

  “I don’t need to gloat, shitbird! I wanted to know how it feels to lose everything?” Green could barely contain his pleasure.

  “I still have my family. We are happy. I made a stupid mistake but I’ve rectified it. Karen’s still mine, so fuck you!” James couldn’t help it. He had promised himself to stay calm. He had meant to maintain the upper hand, some decorum, instead he had resorted to pettiness. James cursed himself now.

  “A girl like Karen needs a man....you’re pathetic! You're not going to get a job as a lawyer...I heard the two old bastards at W&W are blackballing you with everyone.”

  “They can’t reach everywhere.”

  “We’ll see about that...”

  “Fuck you for the help, cunt!” James slammed the phone into its cradle. He picked up again and slammed it down. James repeated this in quicker succession several more times.

  “FUCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKK!!!!” he screamed. He paused a second and opened the door of the phone box. There was a row of female faces at a shop window staring out at him. He stuck his middle finger up at them. The old women stared back in aghast silent horror. James was too angry to find pleasure in this sight. He stormed back to his car which was parked on the opposite sidewalk.

  After getting in, he sat for a second, breathing heavily. He shook the steering wheel and then paused for breath again.

  Asshole....fucking asshole, James thought. Just jealous, he decided with a reassuringly nod to himself.

  James did not listen to music on the drive back to Jamaica Plain. He contemplated the day. He thought about all that had happened. He liked the idea of Small Town, USA more and more. James needed to find his Pittsfield. Somewhere to start over, somewhere for his family to be the way it should – happy.

  18

  James returned to Burroughs Street late in the evening. Both of the children were asleep. Karen had waited up for him.

  “So? How’d it go?” Her expectant face quickly dropped when she saw James. He was still quite shaken from his encounter with Todd Green.

  “Was okay...’til I spoke to Todd Green...”

  “What did that prick want?!” James never heard Karen swear. Occasionally when she was angry, but outside of the last year or so, she had never used curse words, even ones so mild. He laughed.

  “His place ended up being one where I tried getting an interview...obviously didn't realize until it was too late. He took the call just to have a go at me.”

  “I hope you told him to go fuck himself!”

  “Shh!” James was trying to keep his laughter down. “You’ll wake the kids!”

  “I don’t give a shit!”

  James grabbed at her mouth, trying to quieten her but finding the whole situation too funny to put much effort in.

  “I will not be silenced!” Karen cried, starting to laugh now.

  The couple giggled and embraced. Not breaking their hug for several hours.

  The following day, James continued with his travels; making his way towards Hanover and Woodstock near the Vermont/New Hampshire Border, taking in Lebanon.

  This trip, one-way, was three hours. He prayed that this would be more productive than yesterday’s trip.

  On the Vermont-New Hampshire border, Hanover was the stereotypical New England town; quaint and sickeningly wonderful. It was more beautiful and appealing than Pittsfield had been. The trees were a gorgeous color and the Colonial architecture was infused in absolutely every building; they all looked like prime real estate.

  The gas station was owned and run by two brothers; Bill and Bob. Bill was the nice one, Bob was the grumpy one. Bill, the sales guy. Bob, the mechanic. It was like a children’s story, James thought.

  Set on the Connecticut River, it too had beautiful waterside homes complete with jetties for the old timers to fish off.

  Students threw Frisbees across the Dartmouth campus lawn in front of the Georgian ivy-covered focal point of the town.

  James repeated his routine from yesterday. He found a phone booth and looked up the lawyers in the area. Like Poughkeepsie before it, Hanover had its fair share of attorneys; some family law, others criminal. None of them were hiring, at least, none of them were hiring James Dawson.

  Lebanon was much smaller than Hanover. It was the sort of town that James was looking for, but at 11,000 last census, it was still big enough to satisfy any misgivings about living in too small a town.

  James had a good feeling about Lebanon. He was sure this was the place.

  Alas, it was a no.

  James had become jaded with the experience. He was thinking a small time lawyer position was beyond him as well now. Maybe he should just get a manual job; accept his life choices have led to an irredeemable shift in lifestyle.

  James was about to pick up the Boston Globe and leaf through the ‘Jobs’ section when the telephone rang. He let out an exasperated sigh. He had just sat down after a shitty day.

  “Hello?” he said, barely able to hide his distaste for the caller after such a rude interruption.

  “James? I've got it!”

  19

  Austin Carragher had come through in the end. James had not really expected to hear from his old classmate again. Austin was happy now. He had a fiancé. Why should he go out of his way to help someone with whom he wasn’t friends 15 years ago, let alone now?

  Despite this, Austin had in fact contacted people. He had phoned many of the same people as James himself had, with as much luck.

  Austin, himself, wasn’t prepared to give up until he got a call back from a law practice with whom he had left a voicemail.

  From his desk drawer, he removed the map he had bought those many years ago on his travels across the great states of New England. Taking his finger, he traced a path north, south, east and west, trying to find a town that sounded familiar; a town with some connection to him.

  On his slow trail up towards Burlington, he stopped on Blackwater. Austin didn't know why. He was sure he knew no one from there. He was positive he had never even heard of it, never mind noticed it on a map before.

  Austin removed the big yellow book of business numbers from the lower drawer of his desk and opened it on Blackwater properties. Finding the sole entry for an attorney’s office, he rang.

  The call back had come through late on Friday afternoon. The week had gone by with no reply from the Blackwater lawyer’s office. Austin had forgotten about it and was preoccupied with the dozens of other places he had called in the meantime.

  “Hello, is that a Mr. Carragher?”

  “Yes, it is. How may I help you?”

  “There was a message on my machine. You are looking a job at the law firm here?”

  “Yes...well, actually I was ringing for my friend. He’s from Boston and I said I would contact various practices ‘round here to see if I have any luck?”

  “Is your friend qualified?” Austin could tell that the voice was of a woman. She didn't sound very much like a lawyer though.

  “Very much so. He was a top litigator at Wade & Wilson in Boston for many years. He was looking to take a step back from that hectic life though. James was looking into becoming a family lawyer. Small town. Single owner or partner set-up, you know?” Austin was trying to sound as informal as possible without coming across like he didn't care. He wanted to get James the job. He felt sorry for him.

  “Well Mr...Carragher...if your friend would like to visit us, he may come see me tomorrow afternoon. Anytime after 2pm. We are on the Main Street. Carruther’s Real Estate. We are selling the office.”

  “Oh, thank you, madam.”

  Austin hung up.

  “Real estate? That's kinda odd.”

  20

  James awoke with renewed enthusiasm. He didn't have to leave for another four hours but he could not sleep anymore. He
was too excited. Here was his opportunity.

  Austin had made it sound wonderful, and that was just describing its geographical location. That, coupled with the no-hassle office space sale, meant this self-run practice could be a reality very soon.

  Karen could see James’ excitement. She felt her mood lift. The kids were giddy also, but Karen suspected it was just the candy from the previous night’s visit to the movies. ‘The Empire Strikes Back’ had been the family’s celebration of Daddy’s possible new job and the end of the hard week. The kids had lapped up every minute.

  Karen was not that into ‘Star Wars’. James and her had gone to see the original when Marcus was only five. The boy had begged them to go back a few years later on one of its many re-runs. James had loved it the first time. Adored it the second, with an 8 year old Marcus jumping out of his seat to cheer at the end. Needless to say, last night’s trip was a huge success. Even Karen thought the second instalment was pretty darn good. Dark and melodramatic, just how Karen liked her soaps.

  At 11am, James got into his Pontiac and drove with shaking hands all the way up to Vermont. He thought he would leave the road a few times he was so wired.

  When he finally arrived in Blackwater, it was everything he had dreamed.

  Blackwater, Vermont was just south of Addison. Hidden beneath the Green Mountains and Lakes and set upon Lake Champlain, it was a paradise.

  On the Main Street, gas lamps remained where they had been a hundred years ago, the gas replaced with incandescent bulbs now. Little boys in shorts with balloons and young girls in flower print dresses, dolls in hand pranced up and down the street. Old folks sat outside shop fronts, smoking and drinking coffee and tea. They saluted passing folks, saying their good mornings and how-you-dos.

  The realtor’s office was near the end of the strip. James parked in a space neatly provided outside the front window.

  He got out of his car, took one happy look around him and opened the door to his new life.

  Inside a middle-aged woman, not unattractive, with mouse-blonde hair greeted him. This was the woman Austin had spoken to.

  “I'm Bethany Granger. I spoke with your friend Mr. Carragher. He said you were interested in opening a law office in our little slice of heaven.”

  “I actually was looking to work at a pre-existing office but now that the opportunity has presented itself, I thought ‘what the hell’!” he smiled at the woman, but her stone cold face suggested his use of the word ‘hell’ had been ill-advised. “Pardon my language, ma’am. Excited.”

  She stood for a second longer, emotionless and then smiled warmly. “Quite alright, darling! Would you like to come with me?”

  She led James out of the office and building and onto the Main Street strip. She walked out onto the road, looking both ways. A car approached, slowed and waved at her. She crossed with a wave. James hurried to catch up, also waving to the smiling driver.

  Ms. Granger was walking along the sidewalk of a road perpendicular to the Main Street. Landry Isle started at the end of Main Street, before it turned into a country road again. Landry Isle was not a long road. It ended with a red brick building. At the foot of this building was a store front. All glass, louver blinds shielding the inside. A sign hung above the door – Jeffery Manson, Attorney at Law.

  Across the sign was pasted a bigger one. It aimed to hide the original but Jeffery Manson’s sign was too conservative and detailed its whole promise before Bethany Granger’s ‘For Sale’ sign could cover it.

  Bethany Granger produced a densely populated set of keys. She found the appropriate key almost immediately.

  Upon opening the door, dust hit her in the face. She coughed. James had to suppress his snort of laughter, faking a cough. She looked at him suspiciously. She knew he was covering a laugh.

  “I really should dust in here more often.” She smiled. Her embarrassment turned her face a maroon blush.

  She walked inside and stood aside. James followed. He looked around the dim office. The dust particles a mis-en-scene for this important life choice. This was his law office. It wasn’t much, but it was his.

  “I’ll take it!” he beamed.

  Bethany Granger clapped. “Oh wonderful!”

  “Next, find me a house!” he winked at her cheekily.

  21

  “You're kidding right...?” James was looking at Ms. Granger out of the corner of his eye, waiting for the punch line.

  “Look!” Bethany Granger handed James the pamphlet for the house. Printed on the front of the laminate was the $40,000 price tag she had told him.

  “What’s the catch?” He folded his arms and turned to face her.

  “No catch. The house has been vacant for ten years. Few people move to Blackwater and those who do build their own properties near the lakes.” She offered him a smile. He wasn’t having it.

  “And it needs work, I guess?”

  “It needs a paint job, obviously. The interior was updated before the residents left, so modern amenities are all in place.”

  “I would want a surveyor to have a look at it first if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course, Mr. Dawson!” She was losing this sale. She needed to claw it back.

  James was maintaining a stolid expression. Seriousness set in. James’ finances had reached rock bottom. As cheap as it was, this was all they could afford. Blackwater could be their last chance. If this worked, Blackwater House would be their dream home. Karen was going to love it. She had always dreamed of owning a Victorian manor.

  The small formality of the surveyor was over and done with the next day. James had stayed at the local inn. It was run by an elderly couple who were very happy to hear about a new attorney in town.

  “Did you hear that, George?! A new lawyer is coming to town. We can redo our wills finally!” the sweet little lady had shouted to her husband through the open doorway behind the office. He was watching the news in a used but comfortable armchair.

  Turning to James, she remarked, “We had to go into Burlington but George wasn’t fond of the man there. Didn't like the ‘cut of his jib’.” She rolled her eyes and smiled.

  “Well, I'm very pleased to have you as my first clients.” James offered the lady a warm smile.

  “I see you're married.” She said pointing at James’ wedding ring. “Do you have children as well?”

  “A boy and a girl. He’s eleven and she’s five.”

  She let out a tiny whoop of delight, “Oh! How wonderful! Such a perfect addition to the town! They'll love it here. There are so many places for young minds to explore!”

  James smiled again but he was tired and wanted to go straight to bed. This old lady was draining him even further. “I'm pleased to hear that, Mrs...”

  “Jones! Anne Jones.” She said excitedly, taking James hand in her tiny wrinkled one. “And you know my husband George.” She added with another exasperated look.

  “Delighted, Anne” he smiled.

  She blushed and handed James his key.

  “I shall speak to you soon. I’ve found a house and a surveyor is coming to have a look at it tomorrow. My wife still needs to see it, but I'm sure she’ll love it!” he said as he walked away, offering her a little wave.

  22

  The house passed the inspection early the next morning and James drove back to Burroughs Street as soon as he could. The traffic on the I-89 South to Manchester and then the I-93 South back to Boston was minimal and the sun was shining. James felt good. He felt the world had righted itself and everything would continue the way it should. Karen and he would be back on track in their marriage, the kids would have a wonderful place to grow up, and James would be happy; the way he had been in the early days.

  He arrived back at around half one in the afternoon. The kids were at school and Karen was putting in a shift at Gaz’s Café. They would not be home for another two or three hours.

  James couldn’t wait that long. He rushed out of the house and down the street to Center Street where Ka
ren worked.

  He burst into the café with a frantic tinkling of the bell above the door. Everyone looked round to see the man panting and sweating at the front of the café. He was smiling despite the apparent perilous rush he had been in.

  “Kay! Kay!” he shouted. The few people who were in the café at this point started gossiping back and forth.

  Karen had been in the kitchen momentarily, sorting out the next order with Gaz Berry. She had heard the commotion outside and dreaded going out. Karen assumed some obnoxious students had come barging in. She heard James’ voice.

  “James!” she exclaimed. She looked around at the transfixed café and lowered her voice to a whisper, “What the hell!”

  “I've found it!” he said approaching, lowering his voice too, but not enough to hide his excitement. “The office where I will open my own practice and our new home; a Victorian Manor!!” He widened his eyes and bit his lip, raising his eyebrows several times. He was pleased with himself and wanted to savor Karen’s reaction.

  “You're kidding!” Karen, too, could not control the volume of her voice now. “Where is it?”

  “A place called Blackwater. It’s just south of Burlington.”

  “Vermont?!” Karen’s face lit up. “Is it how I imagine it?” her expectant face pleading with James to tell her that her dreams were in fact coming true.

  “Yep! It’s exactly what you want!” he grinned. “I've met some of the townsfolk and they are lovely too. Got my first clients actually.” He laughed. “George and Anne Jones. They want to renew their wills. They own the inn I stayed at last night.”

  Karen’s head was spinning. She didn't know how to make sense of the great news. She had James giving her the news she had waited nearly two years for, whilst a gentlemen was standing to his left waiting to pay for his order. The surrealness of her situation was mind-boggling.