The High Tide Club
“Now, Auntie, we have talked about this,” Felicia said. “You’re living with me now, because the doctors say you’ve got to have somebody to make sure you eat and take your medicine.”
Varina nodded and ignored her great-niece. “Louette, could you please ask Shug to ride us over to Oyster Bluff in that fancy new truck of his before these ladies need to take the ferry back?”
Louette reached for the phone. “I’ll call him right now.”
* * *
Shug turned off the paved main road onto a wide shell road. Varina was propped up next to him, and Brooke sat by the window. Lizzie, Marie, and a grumbling Felicia sat in the second row of cab seats.
Varina pointed to a wide, weedy pasture area surrounded by cypress and oak trees. A pair of rusted-out trucks were parked at the edge of the field along with a tractor that leaned crazily on rotted tires. “That there is part of the old plantation, where they grew cotton and sugarcane. It was way before my time, of course, but my grandmama used to talk about working in that field.”
“What was the plantation called?” Lizzie asked from the backseat. “Did the Bettendorfs own it?”
“Oh no. Mr. Samuel didn’t buy the island until long after plantation times.” Varina turned to her great-niece. “What did they call that place, honey?”
“Friendship,” Felicia said. “Great name for a business that bought and sold slaves, don’t you think?”
Shug turned the truck in a wide arc around the pasture, and in half a mile the small community came into view. A hand-painted sign tacked to a tree proclaimed, “Historic Oyster Bluff. Pop. 45.”
“More like twenty. Or twenty-five on a good day,” he observed. He slowed the truck over the rutted dirt road as two chickens raced across it. Varina pointed to a long, low, wood-frame building with a rusted tin roof. Six or seven junked cars were parked haphazardly in the crushed-shell parking lot, their hoods up, weeds growing out from broken windshields.
“What’s up with all the abandoned cars?” Lizzie asked.
“Costs fifty dollars to barge a vehicle back over to the mainland,” Shug said. “If it can’t be fixed, that car dies right here.”
“That’s the old commissary,” Varina said, pointing to the building. “Back when I was a child, Mr. Samuel paid all his people in script we called ‘Bettendorf Bucks.’ You could use it like money to buy whatever you needed. We didn’t need much back then. Everybody had a garden, and we fished in the creek, raked oysters. My daddy knew how to knit a cast net, so we had as much shrimp as we wanted. There’s wild cows on the island, and every year, my daddy and brothers would catch one, fatten him up, and then butcher it. They hunted too; deer and hogs and turkey and dove. But it was a big treat when I used to take my little bit of money to the commissary and buy candy and Coca-Colas.”
“One of Louette’s cousins runs it now, we just call it the Store,” Shug said. “It ain’t open except Thursday through Sunday, and that’s only if he’s sober and out of jail.”
He turned down another lane and pointed proudly to a snug cottage with a wide front porch that looked out onto the marsh. Baskets of ferns and geraniums hung from the ceiling beams, and a carport housed another car and a golf cart.
“That’s our place. I built that front porch so we can sit out there and watch the sunset. Got me a deck on the back where I do my grilling. Louette wants me to put in a new kitchen, but we were waiting to see if Miss Josephine was gonna let us buy the place back before we put any more money in it.” His shoulders sagged, and he passed a hand over his jaw. “Don’t know what will happen now.”
The truck rolled slowly down the road, passing half a dozen small homes in various states of disrepair, while Varina provided a running commentary of residents past and present. “That’s the Johnsons, but I think they all moved off. That there was where the preacher used to live. This house right here is where my best little friend Marjean lived. Her mama was real sweet to me, because I didn’t have a mama of my own. Miss Stokes had the best garden on this whole island. Grew the sweetest corn and the prettiest flowers you ever saw.”
“How’d she keep the deer and hogs from eating everything up?” Shug asked.
“Ooh, she had her a stout wooden fence all around that garden plot, and she had a big mean dog, Mitzi, would scare anything away that came near,” Varina said, laughing.
* * *
Shug pulled the truck in front of a small wooden tin-roofed cottage. Faded green paint peeked from behind thickly festooned vines that threatened to swallow the house whole. The front porch columns were whitewashed tree trunks, and the windows on either side of the front door were boarded up with plywood.
“This is my house,” Varina said, her eyes glowing with pride. “My daddy built it with his own two hands. He cut the trees down and milled the planks right here on this island. Mr. Samuel counted on my daddy. He sold him the land for our house, and I been keeping up with the taxes all this time.”
“It must be a really special place for you,” Marie said from the backseat.
“It’s adorable,” Lizzie said, peering out the window at the cottage. “It’s like one of those tiny houses they show on HGTV. I wish I could move in here myself.”
Felicia glared at Lizzie and silently mouthed the word, “Nooooo.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Varina said. “And now I’m fixing to move right back home.”
“Here?” Felicia’s voice was panicky. “I know it’s special, but look at this place, Auntie. It’s falling down.”
“Then I’ll fix it back up.” Varina patted Shug’s arm. “This man here can do anything. You’ll help me, won’t you, baby?”
“Why not?” He opened the door and planted one boot onto the weedy yard and appraised the house with a thoughtful eye. “This house has been standing all this time, so it must be sound. Gonna need a new roof, though.”
“You can’t stay here,” Felicia insisted. “Does it even have plumbing? Or electricity? Tell her, Shug.”
“It actually does have plumbing. And electricity, although we probably need to update the panel. Homer was living here until he got too sick and moved over to hospice. It hasn’t been empty but a couple of years.”
“Okay, but it’s gonna need a lot of work before it’s even remotely habitable. It’ll probably take months and months. And where will you stay in the meantime? You can’t get up and down the stairs at Josephine’s house.”
“Plenty of room at our place,” Shug said. “The kids and grandkids hardly come over at all anymore ’cause they’ve got sports and all that. Louette’s gonna be getting lonesome without having Josephine to look after and cook for.”
“Oh no, we couldn’t put you out,” Felicia started.
“We got two guest rooms. Plenty of room for both of y’all,” Shug said.
“Thank you, baby,” Varina said, beaming at her benefactor.
“Auntie, that’s just not possible,” Felicia said. “It’s sweet of Shug to offer, but I’m your caregiver, and I have to work.”
Varina’s jaw set stubbornly. “Didn’t you tell me you do all your teaching on a computer now? And don’t they have computers and all that here on Talisa?”