A taste of freedom

 July 4th: Independence Day

“Come on, Boots, stop holding me prisoner and let me go. It’s time to get up, have a swim and then breakfast. Your pop’ll be waiting for us if we aren’t sharp. Last night you said we had to be down at the pool before him.”

Craig tightened his grip on Nathan, pulling him closer, licking the back of his neck.

“Craig!” laughed Nathan as he wriggled frantically, trying to break free from the bearhug Craig had him in. “Remember what we agreed, you’re not 16 yet.”

“I know,” grinned Craig, “It’s not me that’ll go to Federal Penitentiary, bring down the whole Bauer Dynasty. I’m on the Governor’s payroll now…”

Nathan squirmed around, managed to turn to face Craig and get a hand free, gave him a gentle tap on the nose. Craig immediately released his grip, rolled over and laughed. “I’m out cold, Nat, yours for the taking…”

* * *

“Morning, dad,” laughed Craig as he looked up from the pool. “What kept you? Me and Nat have been here for hours…”

Craig’s dad dived into the pool, took two powerful strokes, surfaced by the side of Craig and tapped him on the nose. “Just ain’t so, son. You were barely ten seconds ahead of me coming along the Orangery Corridor.”

“We were in the water first, dad, that’s what counts! Race you to the end and back. Go, Nat!”

The three of them surged off, tumble turning almost in unison as they reached the end of the pool and streaking away again. Craig remained submerged for just a little longer than his dad or Nat, kicking off the wall powerfully and then maintaining that initial momentum, augmenting it by powerful legs kicks and arm strokes, surfacing perhaps just a half yard ahead of his dad and Nat who were tied for position behind him. Lungs almost bursting, Craig grabbed a quick breath of air, turned his face down into the water, buried his head along the axis of his body for minimal resistance, propelled himself along, twisting his head to take a quick breath in the low pressure trough just ahead of his shoulder every second stroke of his arms, slowly began to increase his lead. Craig reached the opposite end of the pool a half body length ahead of both his dad and Nat, twisted and turned to face them, punched his arm into the air.

“Choke on my wake, guys.”

Nat and Craig’s dad exchanged grins as they jumped forward, grabbed Craig, pushed him under the water as Nat exclaimed breathlessly “Don’t celebrate until you’re out of reach, bud.”

Craig was fast, breaking free from their grip, swirling around them, surging off down the pool, surfacing several yards away. “Come on then, losers, another length?”

“Breakfast time, I think,” laughed Craig’s dad, “Then we need to head up to Pittsburgh and join everyone else for the celebrations. Nat’s mother and your mother are already there, they took the yacht up yesterday and moored off the Carnegie Science Center, opposite Point State Park, prime position for the fireworks and concert. Had quite an evening last night from what I hear, entertaining all the leading lights of Pittsburgh society.”

Nathan smirked. “Funny thing is, if you listen to the gossip, more people will have attended mom’s soirée than the would be required to sink the yacht…”

* * *

Just before ten o’clock, Craig and Nat jumped out of the hire car Craig’s dad had used to drive the three of them to the car park of the Carnegie Science Center where a space had been reserved for them.

“Come on, Boots, I’ll show you down to the submarine you saw when we flew over. It’s an exhibit here, and our yacht is moored up alongside it.” Craig dashed after Nat, catching him up as the two of them ran through the light crowds already beginning to gather on the foreshore path. “There you go, Boots, USS Requin. I can get us visitor tickets to go onboard later. First though, we need to get on our yacht, that’s her moored up on the other side of the sub. One of the privileges of mom being a trustee of the museum. Grandstand view of the celebration plus a little extra security: nobody can reach the yacht from the land without getting through the museum and sub first.”

Moored up about twenty feet away from the submarine on its river side was the Bauer’s yacht, a 1920s vintage, 104-foot-long Trumpy motor cruiser, its classically styled white hull and polished teak deckhouse gleaming in the morning sun. Aft on the fantail Elizabeth could be seen lounging on the cushioned seats, reading a book and sipping coffee.

Nathan whistled, then waved as Elizabeth looked up and at him.

“Send the launch over,” shouted Nat. “We want to come aboard.”

Elizabeth waved back and pretended not to hear but suddenly there came the sound of a small motorboat pulling out from behind the hoarding alongside the submarine and making its way towards them. Craig immediately recognised it as the small Barchetta motor launch that he and Nat had sailed upriver in when Nat had held a barbeque for some of the guys from the college. At the helm was either Jeremiah or Elijah, smartly dressed in a white T shirt and shorts.

“Morning, bud,” said Nat jumping down into the boat as Elijah expertly held it on the throttle against the slipstream just a foot or so from the river’s edge. “You remember Elijah, don’t you, Craig?” Craig and then his dad followed Nat down onto the boat and sat down on the rear bench seat as Elijah gently opened the throttle, eased out into the river and motored slowly round to the far side of the yacht where, amidships, a boarding ladder awaited them. Elijah put a couple of fenders out over the hull and secured the Barchetta to the base of the ladder before waving them to board.

“Boarding from the river side provides extra security,” whispered Craig’s dad to Craig. “If you look over there,” – he pointed upstream – “You’ll see there is a police launch watching the river traffic too. Apparently, this place will be full of small pleasure boats by mid-afternoon, all here for the Independence Day regatta, this evening’s concert over on Point State Park and then the fireworks tonight.”

“Pop’s flying in around one to officially start the regatta – loads of boats will set off upstream to Six Mile Island and then come back down for the concert and fireworks,” said Nat. “He’ll land at Heinz Field, take the police launch out to the head of the fleet of boats that will have formed up and set them on their way. We’ll probably all have lunch here on board the yacht then go over to Point State for pop’s speech. Me and Elizabeth will be doing something in the concert, then we’ll come back here after the fireworks and stay onboard tonight. Come on, let me show you around.”

Leaving Craig’s dad chatting with Elizabeth, Nat led the way into the aft salon of the yacht. “This is the main lounge,” said Nat, “And through those double doors up ahead is the dining room and galley. Beyond that is the pilot house. These steps here lead down to the accommodation. I’ll show you that first.”

Nat led the way across the sumptuous carpet, past the leather sofas and over to the flight of stairs on the starboard side. At their bottom these opened out into a teak panelled vestibule with several door leading off it. Nat stepped to the rearmost door, knocked gently on it and, when there was no answer, opened it and led Craig inside.

“This is the main stateroom, Boots, right aft. Mom and pop’s room. Full width of the boat. Dressing room through that door there, en-suite bathroom through that one.” Craig barely had time to take in the luxurious bedroom and antique furniture before Nat headed back out into the vestibule, knocked on a door leading off to the right and then entered.

“This cabin, and the one directly across the corridor from it, are the two VIP staterooms. Only half the size of mom and pop’s room of course. Your folks will be in this one and Elizabeth has the other. We won’t go in that one, she’s probably got a speargun aimed at the door.”

“They’re both still pretty big cabins though, Nat,” said Craig. “Dead nice too.”

Nat grinned as he moved further forward. “Small storage area there under the stairs, then two more cabins, one either side of the corridor. These have twin beds in, not doubles, but apart from that they’re as big as the VIP rooms and both en-suite of course. We can have one of these if you like, but there is another option. About turn, Boots, back up the stairs. We can’t go further forward down here, that bulkhead there is the back of the amidships engine room, fuel and water tanks.”

Nat led the way back upstairs, through the dining room with its large, ten place table and then through the galley into the pilot house. A large, old fashioned ship’s wheel stood alongside a gleaming brass binnacle containing a compass and an engine telegraph. Tucked discretely under the front screen were three large, touch screen displays. Nat smiled. “All the latest tech, Boots. She looks old but is thoroughly modern under the skin after her refit. GPS navigation, electronic charts, computer-controlled engines. She used to take a crew of five to sail her but now we can do with just two, or three if we run a 24-hour watch rota. Plus hospitality staff of course.”

“Oh, of course,” nodded Craig, slyly ringing the old engine telegraph to “Full ahead” and crying out “Full ahead and damn the torpedoes.”

Nat laughed. “Just for show, Boots. Now, back round here to the galley and down these stairs to the crew quarters.”

Nat led the way down a second set of steps and paused for Craig at their base. “That door behind you leads into the engine room that separates the guest accommodation aft from the crew up here. She’s got a pair of modern Cummins diesels, two generators, water-makers, air-con units, all controlled by those computers up in the pilot house. This, as you can see, is a crew mess and galley area for the off-duty crew. To either side is a cabin with a pair of bunks. There used to be three cabins like that when we had a big crew but now we’re lean manned the middle one of them was taken out and converted into en-suite washrooms for the two remaining cabins. Elijah and Jeremiah have one of them, and Milly and a helper for her has the other. Which leaves this final cabin, right up front.”

Nat stepped forward and pushed the door open, revealing a triangular shaped cabin that was clearly built right up into the bow of the yacht. A double bed was in the centre on a raised plinth, a desk to one side, a set of cupboards and a wardrobe to the other. All the walls were teak panelled and the fittings were of gleamingly polished brass.

“Captain’s cabin, Boots. Small ensuite washroom just back through that door there.” Nat paused to let Craig survey the cabin. “It’s away from our folks, back aft, Boots. And Elijah and Jeremiah will be alternating on watch tonight. We could be the captains, stay up here instead of in one of the guest cabins.”

Craig grinned. “I’m the Captain, Nat. You’ll have to be my First Mate.”

“Fourth, perhaps, if you’re keeping count, Craig,” came Elizabeth’s voice from up behind them. “Now, keep quiet and come up from there little brother, Jeremiah’s trying to get some sleep in his cabin, he was on watch overnight. Perhaps you’d both be so kind as to come up to the sun deck and say hello to your mothers.”

* * *

Craig’s dad wandered over to the rail around the sundeck at the rear of the Bauers’ yacht and stood quietly alongside Craig for a moment or so before asking quietly, “Want to talk about something?”

Craig continued to gaze out across the Allegheny towards Point State Park where several thousand people were lounging in the late evening sun listening to the Independence Day concert, a folk-rock ensemble currently strutting around the sound stage.

“Dad?”

“There’s something bugging you, Craig. Maybe you can fool your mum, but not me. From what Nat said before he went over to the park to get ready for his bit in the concert, you two had a great afternoon: taking the launch over to the far bank of the river, riding up the Duquesne Incline, visiting Fort Pitt Museum, burgers at Primanti Brothers and a quick tour of the submarine. Everything that’s right up your street.  So why do I get the impression that not everything is going smoothly? You’ve been running silent since yesterday morning.”

Craig hesitated, then turned to face his dad.

“America seems different this time round, dad.”

His father said nothing, waiting, forcing Craig to continue.

“Like yesterday. The gun training and stuff.”

“I can understand that. It wasn’t meant to be fun. In fact, it would worry me if you thought it was.”

“I think I get what you mean, dad. I know I have a shotgun and go shooting. And I play ‘shoot ‘em up’ computer games. But that’s not the same. Yesterday was kind of, well, too real. Seeing Elizabeth and her mother really looking like they were being stabbed. And then Nat pulled that gun and shot back as he pushed me to the car. It was like…”

“I know.”

“And then today. Something Elizabeth said. About me and those girls. It wasn’t meant badly, kind of like a joke. But it stuck.  Made me realise some things can’t be undone. That’s always going to be with me, isn’t it?”

“Yes. But you don’t have to let it define you. File it away as a lesson learned.”

“And now, I’m here on my tod, twiddling my thumbs, and Nat’s over there.”

“This is Nat’s life, Craig. And following his dad’s big announcement this afternoon when he flew in to start the regatta, it’s going to get a fair bit harder for him. Right now, he’s got a brief respite, enjoying something he really loves doing. His music. A live performance in an hour or two’s time. Sure, he makes a fuss about being expected to do it but deep down he loves it. Once he’s on that stage he forgets why he’s there, just immerses himself in the moment. By all accounts, he’s good too. Don’t you think that maybe he felt a little like a fish out of water when he came over to stay with you at Easter? Digging up old Viking rubbish? Gutting rabbits? Travelling round on a bus? You half drowning him kayaking in an icy cold river? Nobody knowing who he was? He adapted to it. Ended up loving every minute of it. Now the tables are turned. You’re finding out what his life is like. That he can’t just do as he pleases. That he always has to think about how things will look.”

“He’s just a few hundred yards away, but it seems like forever.”

“It’s just a day. You two get your independence tomorrow. Your road trip together. Let Nat have tonight. Let him do what he has to do.”

The two stood silently together for a few moments, then Craig straightened up.

“I’m going to do something, dad. Let Nat know I really do have his back. Elizabeth gave me an idea yesterday when she barged in on me and Nat listening to his records. He has proper old-fashioned vinyl records you know, dad.”

* * *

Jeremiah throttled the motor launch back and skilfully held it against the current as Craig stepped purposefully ashore at Point State Park Fountain on the opposite bank from where the yacht was moored. A security guard stepped forward from the edge of the crowd, looked at Craig, saw the launch, followed the trail of its wake back to the yacht, stood aside and let Craig pass.

Craig strolled nonchalantly towards the back stage area, smiled at another security guard who asked where he was going, told him it was off limits to the public – ‘I’m not the public, bud’ – and confidently stepped past him into the chaos and confusion of the dressing rooms, pre-stage area, sound and light stations. He glanced down at his watch. Eight-thirty. Saw with relief a flash of a scarlet dress, one of the two people he wanted to see. Elizabeth.

“Well, well, look who we have here. No leave him be, he’s with me.” Elizabeth waved away the security guard who had recovered his wits and was now attempting to catch up with Craig.

“So, you’re decided to be a clone of my brother. Steelers’ jacket. Good choice. Do you know Pittsburgh is the only city where the baseball, football and hockey teams play in the same colors? Makes it easy, if you’re so minded, to court popularity without showing favouritism.”

“I know,” said Craig, “Nat told me. He said he’d be wearing his on stage when he played tonight. Now, about what you said last night. When me and Nat were singing to his records. Did you mean it? Because if you did, I want to ask you to do something for me…”

* * *

Nine-thirty. As the sun began to set behind Crafton Heights and the pyro-technicians conducted their last-minute preparations for the forthcoming firework display, Nat strolled to the front of the stage, the sleeves on his black and gold jacket rolled up, and began to play a few low, mournful notes on his saxophone. A polite ripple of applause died away as the crowd strained to make out the tune he was playing. It seemed familiar, but remained just beyond recognition. Just as the notes appeared to coalesce into something they could name, the audience were confounded when Nat changed key, altered pitch, took them down a new pathway, abandoned them there, left them scrabbling to grasp a newly introduced, achingly familiar, melody.  Nat smiled, lowered the saxophone as his backing group stepped up, began to play the tune that they had all been on the tip of naming. The spotlight shifted, flitted over to the platform built around the fountain, the point where Elizabeth was about to appear and begin singing.

As Nat began to play again, the spotlight increased in intensity, picked out the waiting figure.

Elizabeth gave Craig a push forward, whispered in his ear. “Go for it. Reap your whirlwind.”

Nat didn’t bat an eyelid as he tried to take in what was happening, kept playing. Where Elizabeth should have been, Craig was now standing. The spotlight picked out his black and gold jacket. His pale, nervous, face. Craig took a deep breath. Thought of Noah making his 'Up, Down, In, Out' speech at Allegheny.  Lifted the microphone.

“Something's gotten hold of my heart
Keeping my soul and my senses apart,
Something's gotten into my life
Cutting its way through my dreams like a knife,
Turning me up, and turning me down
Making me smile, and making me frown.

In a world that was war
I once lived in a time that was peace and no troubles at all,
But then you came my way
And a feeling of unknown shook my heart,
made me want you to stay
All of my nights, and all of my days…”

Nat smiled, lowered his sax, stepped closer to his microphone. Sang back.

“Yeah I gotta tell you now,
Something's gotten hold of my hand
Dragging my soul to a beautiful land.
Yeah, something has invaded my night
Painting my sleep with a colour so bright,
Changing the grey, and changing the blue
Scarlet for me, and scarlet for you.”

Nat stepped back into the shadow again as the spotlight flashed over to Craig. Craig, looking only slightly less nervous, stepped forward again.

“I got to know if this is the real thing
I got to know it's making my heart sing
Wo-hoo-o-ye-e-e-e-e e-
You smile and I am lost for a lifetime,
Each minute spent with you is the right time,
Every hour, every day
You touch me and my mind goes astray, yeah
Baby, baby.”

As the spotlight flashed back and forth, Elizabeth stepped out of the shadows, stood at Craig’s side, took hold of his hand. The two of them faced Nat across the enthralled crowd as Nat added an impromptu sax riff to the tune, then paused as both Craig and Elizabeth raised their microphones again.

“Something's gotten hold of my hand
Dragging my soul to a beautiful land,
Something has invaded my night
Painting my sleep with a colour so bright
Changing the grey, and changing the blue
Scarlet for me, and scarlet for you”

As the crowd broke out into rapturous applause, Nat’s sax soared, a new melody breaking free, combining the classic Gene Pitney tune with something new. Something almost tangible, but not quite defined, a feeling more than a certainty.  The spotlight on Craig and Elizabeth dimmed as all eyes turned to Nathan once more. With impeccable timing, Nathan revealed the underlying melody, let it take centre stage just as the first rockets soared into the darkening sky. The crowd began to rise to their feet, hands clenched over their hearts, began to sing along.

“O say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming,
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.
O say, does that star spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?”