Chapter 4: Family

Charlie’s cuts had begun healing well. He was no longer weak. In truth, he never was after that first day. It was like he had an inner strength that overrode what would normally keep a man down.

He had a good appetite. His breakfast was commonly four eggs, three pieces of toast, and at least four pieces of bacon. Maybe it was because he was recovering that he ate so much. He of course had no idea how he used to eat.

Overall, Charlie was doing great. But it still bothered him that he had no idea who he was. I could tell from the far-off look he got as he looked out over the beach. It was as though he was hoping something out there on the surf would give him answers.

An idea occurred to me. Sometimes, my brain just needs prodding. Maybe amnesia worked the same way. He might just need some reminder to make it all click into place.

One morning right after breakfast, I rummaged in the desk drawer where we kept the bills and other important documents. Pulling out a map, I spread it out over the kitchen table.

“Take a look at this.” I motioned for Charlie to come by me. He had just walked in from helping Dad get this gear loaded.

“A map?” He leaned over the table.

I gave a quick nod and pointed at one area. “This is where we are now. Does anything look familiar? Any place names or anything?”

I had hoped that, if he saw the name of where he lived or even a place he had frequented, it might bring back some memories. Maybe even the shape of a lake or a bay might help him. Anything was possible and shouldn’t be discounted.

Charlie leaned in closer and studied the map. As he did, I studied him.

Over the past few days, I had gotten closer to him and more familiar. He had a dark freckle on his right temple. A small scar was on the lower side of his left jaw. He moved with a grace that supported his possibly rich background, but he had a hardness about him that suggested something less lofty.

I leaned closer to him and breathed in. He had a smell to him that was entirely male and slightly wild.

“Nothing.”

His words brought me back into focus, and I jerked back and tried to look as though I had been looking at the map with him.

“Uh, nothing? No names sound familiar?” I tried to hide my nervousness by focusing his attention back on the map. Maybe if he looked there, he wouldn’t see the flush I felt on my cheeks.

He looked down again and shook his head. I noticed how his hair seemed a little longer now. My fingers wiggled as I made to touch him. Thank goodness I stopped before I humiliated myself.

“How about this?” I found another map in the desk drawer and laid it out on top of the other one. It was a more localized map.

He studied it as closely as he had the previous map but shook his head again. “Nothing.”

I felt dejected, and it must have shown on my face because he smiled at me and said, “I’ll keep looking. You never know what might trigger a memory.”

He was so sweet.

Later that day, I had another idea. My brother, Alan, lived in Boston. Maybe he’d have heard about someone missing, or at least would know what to do next to find answers. We were close enough to have people up from Boston vacationing, even on their boats.

He picked up on the second ring. “What’s up, sis?”

“The ceiling. What’s up with you?”

It was our usual exchange that started when we were younger. He had started doing it when I first became part of the family, to put me at ease, and it grew from there to our usual greeting.

“Another ceiling. What’s got you calling in the middle of the day?”

I filled him in on Charlie. Dad hadn’t told him yet because he didn’t want to worry him about a stranger staying with us. I told him how I found him and the fact that the man couldn’t remember anything about himself. Alan listened patiently. When I finished, he laughed.

“You and your bleeding heart.”

I rolled my eyes. “What about it?” It wasn’t the first time he had teased me about this.

“You’re a sucker for the unfortunate. I always think of you giving that homeless guy your scarf when you were here for a visit.”

“He needed it more than I did.” I never understood why others didn’t feel the same way about helping those in need. “You guys helped me when I needed it.”

I was only twelve when I had come into Wyatt and Alan’s life. They were not my biological family, but they were family. I had no real memories of my life before them.

It had been a situation eerily similar to Charlie’s—they found me on the beach with a head injury and no memories. The thought gave me pause. It was a bizarre coincidence.

I knew I was blessed with my current family. I wanted others to feel the same warmth I did. I wanted them to know that someone out there cared.

Alan promised to look into any missing person’s report and get back to me. As I hung up, I thought back to when I had come into my family’s life. A new memory from long ago came to me. The beach. Water.

I shook my head. I was getting Charlie’s near-drowning mixed into my own memories.

The next day, Charlie came up to me as I put a casserole in the oven to back for dinner. Dad would be back within the hour.

“Is there any work in the area?”

I straightened up and frowned at him. “Work?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I need to do something, and you guys have been so good to me. I’m eating you out of house and home. I’d like to contribute.”

I wanted to argue. In fact, I opened my mouth to do just that, but he was right. My father barely brought in enough to feed us, even with the bit Alan sent to help out. That part, Dad didn’t know about. I kept it on the down-low.

There were not many jobs in the area. I was lucky to work at the bait shop. Every once in a while, I worked at the local grocery store - usually when the owners had to go into the next town for doctor appointments. I had thought of looking online for work, but there was such high demand for jobs that someone with little experience like me was hard-put to find anything.

“Might be good for you to get out more,” I said. “I have an idea.”

As the fishermen came in that evening, I went to the docks and waited. One of them was Lewis. He was a third-generation fisherman. His father had died the year before, leaving him his boat and business.

He waved at me as he pulled up to his slip. “Hey, girl!” he called out.

“Hey.” I grabbed the rope he tossed me and tied up the bow of the boat while he worked on securing the stern.

“Meetin’ your ol’ man?” Lewis pulled himself out of the boat to stand in front of me.

I shrugged. “Not really. Came to see you.”

He raised one eyebrow. “Me? Boy, I’m the luckiest man in New England.”

I laughed at his usual attempt at flirting. “You know Charlie and his situation.”

Lewis nodded in reply. Obviously, he had helped me get the man up off of the beach.

I continued. “I was wondering if you needed any help on your boat. I know you usually get some of the local kids to help you. Not many are available this year.”

“Or inclined to get their hands dirty,” he interjected.

“That’s true. Would you consider taking Charlie on? He doesn’t know too much about fishing, that we know of, but he could help you.”

Lewis didn’t even take time to think about it. “You know, that’s a splendid idea. He’s pretty strong-looking. Seems to be a quick learner. Better than some of these kids who don’t know anything about life but computer game talk. He’s willing?”

I nodded eagerly. “He asked about getting some work to do. I think he is getting tired of not doing whatever he used to do.”

“Still no luck in finding out who he really is?” Lewis’s face showed deep concern.

“Not yet. We’re putting out some feelers, but, so far, no one has been reported missing that matches his description.”

“Sad state, but at least he has you guys. Sure thing. Tell him to be here first thing in the morning. You know what time.”

I grinned. “And I’ll pack him a hearty lunch. Thank you so much, Lewis.”

“No problem, Sue. Just promise me dinner one night. Preferably homemade. A good beer. You know. The works.”

I laughed and waved as I made my way back to the house. On the way, I felt extreme satisfaction. It was like we were creating a new little family with Charlie in it. It was as though Alan was back home. Yet the warmth I felt toward him was nothing like I felt about Alan.