Outside (Formerly Derby Harbor)

I've revised Derby Harbor and changed the name of the story. Along with the name change I cut down on useless side-plots in an attempt to tighten the story up. I think it's an overall improvement, and I may get time to make one more revision before the end of the semester.

I found living in Derby Harbor difficult. The surrounding mountains isolate the town from the rest of the world and force everyone to hug the sea. It felt like letting go of the ocean meant certain death, and I suppose it did, at least for the crab fishermen. There were times I thought I lived at the top of one of those white peaks nearby despite being at sea level, the air was so thin. It made it hard to breathe, and every gulp of air I made took effort.

I worked at the local grocery store, which was a job I liked, and I’ll look back on it as a positive time in my life always. It could be hard to deal with the customers on occasion, but I did my best for our small store. My troubles in Derby Harbor began at work in the late winter, early spring of my senior year of high school. Usually that’s my favorite time of the year because a brisk wind blows in off the North Pacific, which made it easier for me to breathe. For most people the wind and cold forced them into their living rooms to huddle for warmth, but I could never live without the cold.

I can point to the day everything fell down, the day I understood I needed to get out of Derby Harbor. It was after school and I was at work shelving dairy overstock and keeping on top of sales items. While I worked the dairy case a couple of customers came down my aisle, a father and daughter each dressed up with the father in a tux that didn’t quite fit and the daughter in a simple black dress. The father staggered around as his daughter did her best to keep him walking straight; they looked as though they came from the wake next door.

The daughter recognized me, we being in the same class, and she greeted me with excitement, putting a weird stress on the beginning of my name, saying I . . . saac. I cringed every time she called my name. This girl, Natalie, asked if we had any flowers, and her father protested, suggesting to his daughter Natalie they buy a gallon of milk instead. Natalie pleaded with her father to wait for his milk because they needed the flowers as a gift and they didn’t have enough money to buy both. He wouldn’t be swayed. She went off to grab the flowers before it was too late and left her father with me, begging me to help police the man.

Talking to Natalie made me uncomfortable. She always smiled in my presence and occasionally batted her eyes. She had an unhealthy interest in me, I think, and I just wanted to get away from her and her father and back to work. No such luck for me as the father leaned in and spoke with whiskey on his breath, “You better let me have my milk, if you don’t I’ll get you fired.”

I responded, “Sir, if you get me fired, that’s fine. I’ll just wait for you outside and gut you.”

The man stood back and laughed, “Heh, I like you kid.”

He grabbed a gallon of milk and staggered up front to make his purchase, brushing my shoulder as he passed. I didn’t move to stop him. Natalie came around the corner and down the aisle in search of her father, but he was no longer here. She had a bouquet of flowers with her and asked me where her father went, so I told her the truth. She gave me a pitiful look that I’ll never forget, and something must have overcome me because I pulled out my wallet and gave her the money for the flowers. She didn’t know how to react and stood dumbfounded. I forced the money into her hands.

She started to cry and told me, “Thank you Isaac, I’ll pay you back.”

I waved her off, “Don’t worry about it. You shouldn’t let your father push you around Natalie.”

Then and there I made my first mistake when I asked, “What’re you all dressed up for?”

Natalie brightened at my question, “Oh, we’re coming back from a wake. It’s for a friend of my father’s, a crab fisherman from his boat, died. I’ve had to get my father together, so I’ve been busy, but I’m free tonight if you want to . . . get dinner or something.”

We stood there for a moment, each looking at the other. I never answered her, but instead stuttered, taken off guard. I just wanted to get back to work and have the rest of the day prove uneventful.

As the moment when I had to speak came my boss walked up and said to me, “Isaac, I need you to do something very important. Mrs. Ostermann came in a few hours ago and well . . . she never left. She’s very confused and I need you to take her home. You can go home afterward.”

I didn’t object to my boss’s request, but I looked at Natalie to see her reaction. She gave me a dejected smile and told me to go along and help, keeping hope alive by suggesting we go out another day. Happy to have escaped Natalie for the moment, I went to the aisle Old Lady Mrs. Ostermann happened to be stalking at the moment and brought her out of the store. The sun had set and the dark heralded a cold that penetrates to the bone no matter how warm the clothes one wears.

I walked Mrs. Ostermann to her home, which is a mile in the opposite direction from mine. It sucked that no one at work had a car, not even my boss, but this is one of the drawbacks of living is such a small, insular town. When she started shivering I gave her my jacket and I kept her from tripping and possibly breaking a hip. She spoke about her daughter the entire way; it was a long walk.

Near her home Mrs. Ostermann asked me if I knew her daughter. I told her I did and that she comes by the store once a week to give us a grocery list for her mother. I informed Mrs. Ostermann she didn’t even need to come to the store.

Mrs. Ostermann grabbed my arm on hearing what I said and shook, “You know my daughter? I’ve looked for her all day. She didn’t come home from school today and I’m worried. She’s supposed to come straight home from school, have you seen her?”

I answered, “Ma’am, your daughter is forty-two years old.”

She stopped moving, “Oh . . . do you know when school lets out, I need to be home for her when she arrives.”

I gave up speaking to her because she was too far gone to be saved. I hoped the old woman would die soon and spare everyone a lot of trouble, but I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind. It's not good to think that way. I pulled her to her house, she lived with her daughter, but no one was home. I grew upset at finding the doors all locked and no spare key hiding anywhere outside. Taking Mrs. Ostermann home might be worse than if I’d gone out with Natalie. Why didn’t I want to go with her? She seems nice, but something about her . . . her smile and the way she says my name, each innocent enough, but the whole package creeps me out. Regardless, I got stuck with the old woman and had to deal with Mrs. Ostermann then and there.

No one wants the responsibilities of taking care of Old Lady Ostermann not even her own daughter, so I’m left with it. What makes people think I want all this responsibility? People disgust me. I did the only thing I could think to do; I broke one of the windows in the door and unlocked it from the inside. I led Mrs. Ostermann into her home, taped up the broken window and with my job done I left for home.

I forgot about that night and got on with my life, and went to work the next day, Saturday, as I usually did. The day passed and I found myself checking the dairy case around six in the evening when my boss approached, told me I’m done with work for the day. Stunned, I asked him why.

He said, “You have a date tonight with that Natalie girl, right? She asked me to let you off of work early and I told her I would. That girl needs a good man in her life Isaac.”

I punched out and left the store. I’d been outmaneuvered and left in check without realizing I was playing a game in the first place. Chris walked up from behind me with his girlfriend Katie in tow and they pulled me along without as much as a word, bringing me to our local seafood restaurant. They told me it was a double date, the two of them with Natalie and me. I was captured and defeated before I could put up a fight, this was my second mistake. It’s a nice place and Natalie stood well-dressed outside, smiling on seeing us arrive.

A waiter sat us and we ordered our food. Natalie got the surf-and-turf, which I expected I’d be paying for, so I distracted myself by trading some war stories, tales on weird and unruly customers with Chris. As I talked with Chris, Natalie coughed and placed her hand on mine. I ate quickly in vain hopes to escape, but this left me waiting for the others with nothing to do but sit and speak to Natalie. I should have left the restaurant and Natalie then and there, but I didn’t. I felt responsible to Chris and Katie, and even to Natalie. Natalie had to pull teeth to get me talking, but she took perverse pleasure in the job. She grew confidant and sat comfortably in the position of power, no longer the servant. I chaffed under her unbending will.

We finished our meals and exited the restaurant, my wallet much too light for my tastes. I felt the night would go on forever, and I needed to get away from Natalie before I got beyond the point of no return. Hopeless, I tried thinking about work, school, or anything far away from that restaurant when our town cop, Officer Bob showed up. He didn’t bother to look up from his clip board as he said, “Isaac, I was told you’d be here and came down to ask if you’d come to the station with me.”

Everyone, myself included, stared at Officer Bob. Nobody said anything. I nodded in assent and went along without a fight, free for now. I don’t remember much because I’ve tried to forget that time, but I ended up down at the station alone. I do remember the looks on everyone’s faces, the incredulity in Chris’s eyes, but I remember Natalie most of all. She looked past me and into the ocean behind the restaurant.

I spent the next fourteen hours in the station, and most of it I spent in one of the holding cells. They asked me to talk, but I never said a word. I couldn’t talk as I was too choked up with anger because I hadn’t been charged with any crime. It definitely wasn’t worth getting away from Natalie for the circus show at the police station. The next morning Officer Bob came in and let me out.

He said, “I brought you in over the incident at the Ostermann household, but her daughter isn’t pressing charges as nothing was stolen, so you’re free to go for now.”

That was the end of my sojourn at the police station, so all that was left was for me to walk home. People turned and watched as I passed by and gave me a wide berth when I neared. Having lost the collective trust of my fellow townsfolk, life in Derby Harbor became brutal. People I once considered friends no longer talked to me and customers, at best complained about my presence at work and at worst demanded I get fired. The only person who still hung out with me was Chris because he was the only one who understood. He wasn’t enough to help me though, so I planned to disappear at the end of the summer, hoping escape would be relief.

Towards the end of the school year, I wished I could just stay home until summer came. The looks people gave me, I’ll never forget. Their cold stares went past me or through me as though I wasn’t there. Teaches got tough on me as if they expected trouble out of me at any moment, but I never gave them any. Natalie didn’t show up to school anymore, and it’d been a week since anyone saw her. People started to talk, saying I did something to her. I didn’t appreciate the attacks, but I held myself back from retaliation, the last thing I needed was more trouble with people. The principal called me to his office, so there I stood in front of his steel desk in the simple room the school provided him.

Master P, as the student body took to calling the principal, started by asking me to sit down. I refused. He went straight to business, “Isaac, you’re dating Natalie right? Do you know why she hasn’t been coming to school as of late?”

“I don’t know sir, but I can go check.”

The principal told me to get back to him before long, and I walked out of the office, leaning on a nearby wall. What gave Master P the idea that Natalie and I were dating? We’d gone out once to the restaurant, but that’s it. Are other students telling him this? Teachers? Nobody talks to me anymore so I just don’t know.

I showed up outside Natalie’s home Wednesday after school since I didn’t have to work that day. What a way to spend my day off. I knocked on the door and got a meek yes in return. I announced myself.

Natalie answered the door, “Isaac what are you doing here?”

Natalie was a mess. Her hair stood up on end, disheveled and her clothes were dirty and wrinkled. I said, “You haven’t been to school the last couple of days, so everyone’s worried. Is your father home?”

Natalie sobbed, “No he isn’t. I just don’t know what to do. Could you stay Isaac, for just a few minutes?”

I agreed to though I didn’t want to, but I didn’t want to find out what might happen to Natalie if I left. I’d be held responsible. The situation didn’t make sense to me at first because I was under the impression she took care of her father, so why couldn’t she take care of herself with her father gone? I shouldn’t be too hard on her though. A man like her father should be able to take care of himself, but instead he tied himself to his daughter. I stepped inside her home only to find squalor. It isn’t possible for humans to live in such a state of decay in which I found that house.

I asked Natalie where her father was and she responded, “He’s in Fairbanks for a few weeks. My aunt is sick.”

I couldn’t stand the house or its mess, but I couldn’t leave Natalie alone as things were, so I stayed and told her I’d help out if only for my own piece of mind. She was ecstatic and stuck herself to me for every moment I spent in her house. I cleaned and even cooked everyday after school, work, and the bulk of the weekend. It took the better part of a week to make that house livable by mopping, scrubbing, and sweeping every room. The cleaning gave me something to focus on besides my disgust. Natalie spent the time either bouncing around getting in the way or nagging me to do some other chore while complaining about what I was doing at the time. She was like a poorly trained dog that tears up the furniture when the owner goes on vacation.

I was glad when Natalie’s father returned and I no longer had to be around that house. Disaster had been diverted and she came to school once more. Natalie took every opportunity to eat lunch with me or spend time with me, which made my situation difficult. Despite my general loneliness, I did my best to remain aloof of her hoping the time I spent with her didn’t give her wrong ideas, especially about us.

Graduation came and went, and I finished fourth in my class which is better than most, and I’m happy with that. Summer made life for me much harder when Chris quit the grocery store in preparation for work on his father’s crabbing boat in November. Chris was the one guy who understood me, and he was the only friend to stick by me when everyone else abandoned me. Hoping to forestall his departure, I told him it was early in the year for leaving. Chris said in response to my worries, “Don’t get worked up Isaac. We've been friends too long for me to give up on you.”

“You're right; we've been friends for too long. I’m leaving this town, it’s too tough for me to get by when everyone either acts like I don’t exist or is out to get me, even with you around. I’m leaving for Paris Island at the end of August; this is the only way for me to escape, to be happy.”

“You’re going to France?”

“No, I’m joining the Marines.”

“But they’ll send you to Iraq.”

“Probably”

Chris stepped back, “What? No, you can get a job with my father on the ship. People might be tough on you now, but if you keep your head low and work hard they’ll forget about what happened with Mrs. Ostermann, and what about Natalie?”

Natalie, as if on cue when Chris mentioned her name entered the store and came down our aisle stopping next to us. She greeted us both with her usual smile.

I started, “Natalie I . . .”

She interrupted, “Isaac, I want to talk with you, will you walk me home?”

Taken aback I said, “S . . . sure.”

That was my third and final mistake, going back to Natalie’s home. Chris gave me thumbs up as I walked away with Natalie. She swung a gallon of milk in one hand and with the other grasped one of my arms and wouldn’t let go for anything.

Squeezing my hand she said, “I’m sorry about not talking to you for the last few days, but I needed to think. Isaac, you’re a good person and you try to do the right thing. You’re not a violent person.”

“You’re wrong Natalie, I am a violent person.”

She squeezed harder, “No you’re not, I won’t let you get violent, okay?”

Natalie smile sent a chill up my spine, and we found ourselves standing outside her front door. She ushered me in without a wasting a moment and closed the door behind her. Her house, the living room, kitchen, everything was squalor once more. All the work I did, gone. Amid the mess her father slept on the couch dressed in boxers and a wife beater. It was hard to walk around.

Natalie jumped into the kitchen from the hall and said to me, “Just let me put the milk away and then we can go upstairs where it’s clean. Sorry for the mess, I do my best but it’s so hard with my father out of work.”

She came back and pulled me upstairs into her room, where it was clean as she said. At least some of my work survived the cyclone that is her father. She sat on the bed and motioned for me to join her, but I chose to stand. Natalie started to cry and having never seen her cry before I didn’t know what to do.

She said, “I can’t go on like this anymore Isaac, it’s just too hard. I need help.”

“Uh, what do you need?”

She came to me and grabbed my arm, “I need you Isaac.”

The look she gave me pierced down into the base of my brain stopping my heart. I said, “Natalie, I don’t think I’m ready for this.”

“Please Isaac, don’t leave me alone.”

A knock on her door interrupted us, salvation. Natalie let go and started to shake. She called out and her father responded by breaking her door in. With a loud crack the lock broke open and the door swung against the wall. The smell of whisky followed him in and he proceeded to push all of her belongings on the dresser onto the floor. He threw books about and Natalie cried, her sobs grew frantic when she asked her father what was wrong.

He answered, “Natalie, I should kill you for this; I can’t believe you’d betray your own father like this. And you Isaac, what gives you the right to come into my home and take what isn’t yours?”

I remained calm, “And what sir, did I take?”

He got right into my face, spitting, “You know very well what. Where is it? WHERE’S MY MILK!”

For a moment I couldn’t speak, all I could do was laugh. The father stood dumbfounded and Natalie managed a couple weak chuckles in-between sobs. I’ve never laughed so hard in my life, and once it hurt too much to continue I said to her father, “Well did you check the fridge?”

He answered, “No.”

I continued, “Then I suggest you go do that now.”

I couldn’t bear to look at Natalie after my show, so I walked to the door and said with my back to her, “I’m sorry Natalie, I should go.” The last thing I heard in that house was her crying.

Now here I am one week later on a plane that’ll take me to Fairbanks and from there to the “Outside” and freedom. No more mistakes, no more misplaced responsibility; I’ll just disappear. It’s getting cool as winter starts early here. I couldn’t bring myself to speak to Natalie again, so I wrote her a letter. I told her I was sorry for laughing as I did and I won’t be there for her, but told her to move on and forget me like everyone else would. I won’t be coming back.