Of Sea and Cloud by Jon Keller Page A

anything easy? Or even without his gear cut?
    Virgil’s voice was hard and that surprised Jonah.
    I guess he ain’t going to bend me over too easy. And wasn’t I just saying that the fucking Highliner shouldn’t of cut his goddamned gear?
    Well if he does bend you over, Jonah said, just poke him in the eye, Bill. That’ll get him off you.
    Shut up, Jonah. You fucked up enough shit today. Bill paused as if catching his balance then they all three turned when they heard a red pickup ease down the two track.
    The truck stopped beside them. It was muddy and the man inside was old. The window rolled down and the old man stuck his bald hatless head out and looked from one brother to the other and then to Virgil.
    My goddamned friend Royal James, Virgil said. Imagine that. Just when shit can’t get worse, he shows up.
    Boys, Royal said. His face was red from a lifetime of wind and work and liquor. He settled back into the truck cab and studied the trap pile.
    Bill said, You been egging?
    Royal glanced at the truck bed where a dozen fish trays were stacked full of spiny green sea urchins. It smelled to Jonah as if the ocean itself were stuffed into the truck bed.
    Royal rubbed his fingers together. Uni, he said and he had to push the word from his mouth. Then he continued. I seen you boys out there today and figured you was fetching loads of Nic’s gear. I put my boat on her mooring, thought might be I’d come down and check on progress.
    Royal paused and stared at Virgil as if to say something more to him alone but only his big ears rose up and down. He turned his look back to Bill. His voice was deep and sincere. I’m sorry about your father, Nicolas. And sorry I missed his funeral, by Jesus. I suppose the only funeral I ever do attend’ll be my own and I’d soon miss that one.
    It’s fine, said Bill. Thanks.
    Royal nodded again and put his truck in gear but held his foot on the brake pedal. He seemed to think for half a minute then spoke. Virgil, come on by the house tonight. I got something for you. Come on by.
    I don’t need any of your poached deer, Virgil said.
    I ain’t done that for years, said Royal. His ears twitched like flags.
    Virgil nodded.
    Royal’s eyes focused straight ahead and he let his foot off the brake and did a slow U-turn.
    That there is one odd duck, Bill said.
    What’d you think he wants? said Jonah.
    Hell, I don’t know, Jonah, said Virgil. He probably wants company. But I kind of like the old coot, don’t you?
    He’s odd, Bill repeated.
    You think anyone who ain’t you is odd.
    That’s right. Only two good things ever come out of this town. That road right there and me. We’ll see you.
    Bill got in his truck without another word and left.
    Jonah picked up a rock and flipped it in his hand then chucked it at the pound but it didn’t go far enough and landed clattering on the riprap. He rounded the front of the truck and got in. Chowder climbed onto his lap and Virgil eased the truck down the dirt road. Jonah rubbed the dog’s fat belly and her hind leg drummed.
    They drove to the end of the pound road then followed the harbor’s eastern shore. Silence hung like a noose and Jonah struggled to think of something to say but he kept thinking about sending trap after trap to bottom.
    The road went by.
    I thought Osmond was a priest, Jonah said. That just don’t seem to add up. Him being such a asshole and all.
    Calvinist minister is what he was. But he gave it all up for a woman.
    Jonah felt himself relax but could not have said why. What woman?
    Laura was her name. She was married to his brother Orrin. Her and Osmond got together while Orrin was in Korea. She got pregnant and they had a daughter, then she died of cancer not too long after. Their daughter died of cancer too, but not till she had Julius and them two twin girls.
    I can’t imagine Osmond Randolph and a woman, Jonah said. Or a woman with