The Lighthouse Road(53)

" Where are we?" Rebekah said.



"The Duluth Boat Club, near as I can tell."



"What's a boat club?"



Odd crossed his arms and looked up at the building. "I don't rightly know, but it's a place to dock her. It's lit up. I'm hoping they can at least steer me to where I might pull her out of the water for winter."



As Odd spoke a dockhand came from the boat club. He was dressed in a blue blazer and khaki trousers. He wore also a blue cap in the style of a naval officer and black boots.



"Good evening," he said. "Welcome to the Duluth Boat Club. I don't think I've seen you before."



Odd looked at Rebekah, then at the dockhand. "Hello," he said without confidence.



Now the dockhand was standing beside them. "That's a fine boat," he said. " Looks brand new."



"She just spent her first day in the water," Odd said.



"Where'd you all come from?"



"We're up from Gunflint."



"A good day for a cruise," the dockhand said.



"A good day for sure," Odd said.



An uncomfortable silence passed between them. It was Rebekah who spoke next.



"We're on our honeymoon," she said.



"Well! Congratulations. Where are you staying?"



"We haven't made arrangements," Rebekah said. " Could you recommend a nice hotel?"



"Downtown here you've got the Spalding Hotel. It's as fine a hotel as Duluth has. There's a good dining room there called the Palm. It'd be a good place to honeymoon."



" Where is it, exactly?" Rebekah said.



"Corner of Fifth and Superior."



Rebekah turned to Odd. "It sounds like a fine place."



"Sure does."



The dockhand put his hand on his chin and said, "How long will you be in Duluth?"



It was Rebekah who answered. "We're not sure."



The dockhand said, "I only ask because most everyone has their boat out of the water by now. The harbor will probably be frozen before long."



"I reckoned that," Odd said.



"We offer wintering services," the dockhand said. "Get your boat



out of the water, store it for the season." He pointed up past the boat club, at a storage yard that Odd had somehow missed since they'd been standing on the dock. Masts reached into the evening, the boats beneath them covered with snug canvas. There were dozens of boats there, sitting for winter.



"That's just what we need," Odd said. He turned to Rebekah. "I'll have her put up for winter, right?" It was a question loaded with significance. More significance than Odd could even imagine, one Rebekah understood with a sense of dread. But there was only one answer. At least for now.



"Of course," she said.



So they went into the boat club and Odd made arrangements to winter his boat. They'd hoist it from the water the next morning and store it in the yard. There were fees for the hoisting, fees for the storing, fees for the tarp, for everything. By the time Odd and Rebekah were standing outside, awaiting a cab to bring them downtown, Odd was forty dollars lighter in the pocket than he'd been on arrival. It irked him for a spell, spending all that money on something he could have handled himself in Gunflint, but as the carriage pulled up, and as he helped Rebekah onto the bench and heard the horse neigh, and as the cabdriver cracked the reins and the carriage started up St. Louis Avenue, heading for the city lights, Rebekah's hand on his, he realized he'd have emptied his pockets entirely if it meant this scene played out forever.





In no time at all the road ended under the bridge, the cab stopped, and the driver climbed down and lit a cigar and told Rebekah and Odd that they had to wait for the gondola to carry them across the canal. Odd looked out the canal, at the lighthouse on the end of the pier. The wind had come around from the north. He felt it on his face, knew winter would trail that breeze.

"It's getting cold," Rebekah said, as though she could read his mind.



"We just beat it," Odd said.



The gondola hung from the truss eighty feet above. By some magic of cables and pulleys that Odd could not decipher in the dark, it would cross the harbor entrance. The cabdriver walked the horse by the reins and set the carriage brake and the gondola started across the water. Rebekah and Odd remained on the plush seat in the back of the carriage, their hands warm in each other's. The surface of the water just beneath them.



When the gondola reached the downtown side of the canal the cabdriver unset the brake and cracked the reins gently and the cab moved toward the hills, toward the city. As they moved into the lights, onto the busy streets, among the ten-story buildings, Rebekah lifted Odd's arm around her and settled into him. He felt hopeful after that. And as they drove up Superior Street, behind the streetcars, under the gas lamps lining the street, all he could see was the beauty of it all.