Chapter Thirty-Three Tula
Chapter Thirty-Three
Tula
I arrived in the small island town of Manteo and followed directions to Mr. Green’s, a ranch-style house located on a wooded lot at the eastern edge of Roanoke Island.
I parked behind an older van and grabbed my backpack.
A blue hydrangea blossomed, and neat gardens were filled with azaleas that had lost their spring blooms. A dog barked in the backyard, enclosed with a white picket fence.
I climbed three brick steps and rang the bell.
I listened for the sounds of footsteps. When I heard nothing, I rang the bell again, when a door inside the house closed. The front door opened to a man with a thick shock of white hair and a deeply tanned face.
He studied me closely as if the past now stood on his doorstep. “Tula?”
“Yes. Mr. Green.”
He pushed open the door. “Yes. Please come inside.”
“Thank you for seeing me.”
“Of course. I’m so glad Doug reached out.”
Inside, sunlight streamed in from a large sliding glass door, brightening a small space with a large stone fireplace, a well-worn couch, and a dining table covered in books.
“I made coffee,” he said.
“That would be amazing.”
He vanished into a galley kitchen. Mugs clinked.
The walls were covered with dozens of framed pictures of Manteo, views of the sound and the ocean.
Some images were black and white and captured the area before the recent explosion of vacation homes and businesses.
There were also dozens of local and regional awards on shelves and coffee tables.
Mr. Green appeared with a tray, awkwardly sporting two mugs, a bowl of sugar, and a small pitcher of cream. He set the tray on the large table in a small spot not covered with books or papers. “I wanted to clean up, but there’s no place to put anything. As you can see, I’ve saved everything.”
“No problem.” When he motioned toward a chair, I took a seat.
I sat and accepted a cup of coffee. I poured in cream. As I looked at him, I realized I’d seen him the day I’d seen Dr. Brooks walking away. “You met Mom for coffee at the mall café?”
“I did. I think you were shopping.” He settled slowly, as if his bones ached. He took the second cup.
I fingered the sea glass and coin. “I thought it was odd she’d given me money to shop.”
“I really liked your mother. She was a free spirit. Made me long for the days when I traveled.”
“How did you meet Mom?”
“Well, you know she was born in Norfolk, and she came down here often to dive and surf.”
“She never talked much about living in the States. We never visited until seven years ago.” I shook my head.
“She was always so open and friendly with customers on our dive boats. She told stories of all our dive spots and the wrecks, but never here. I’m not even sure why she decided to dive the Oceanus. ”
“It was personal. Like I said, your great-grandmother, Margaret, was on the Oceanus.”
I sat back, ready to ask the question that had been chewing on me. “Why wouldn’t she tell me?”
“I don’t know. She avoided talk of her parents. I just knew enough local history to know she was connected to the Oceanus. After your great-grandmother survived the wreck, she settled in Norfolk in 1942. She took a job with a bookshop.”
“There’s no mention of a Margaret on the ship’s manifest.”
“Your mother didn’t have many details about Margaret. She died of cancer in 1978.”
“We know she was pregnant on the Oceanus, or I wouldn’t be here.”
“Her married name was Riggs.”
“There was a Chief Mate Riggs on the Oceanus.”
“Kevin Riggs. He worked as a merchant marine for nearly fifty years. A great guy. He missed the hell out of Margaret after she died. They never had children of their own, but he adored her son.”
“My mother never talked about her father. I don’t even know his name.”
“Eric Riggs. He married a local girl in Norfolk—Cassidy—and he was at sea a lot.”
“Our last name is Cassidy. Mom must have taken her mother’s name as her surname. Why?”
“Your mother said she cared for her mother while she was ill. Her dad was at sea when her mother died, and Mariah was angry he hadn’t been there to help. By the time he was stateside, Mariah was gone. It was a shame. Eric would have been here if he could have.”
I was talking about a stranger rather than my mother. “Mom never talked about any of this.”
“She never liked to look back.”
I shifted my focus back to the Oceanus so I could process what I’d just learned. “In the manuscript, the author focuses on Gertrude Werner and Sigrid Stein. Are either of those names familiar?”
“I know they were listed on the manifest, but other than that, I’m not familiar with them.”
I thought about the pictures I’d found of the woman with Dr. Brooks. I had no idea who she really was. I opened my phone and showed him the pictures I’d snapped of the black-and-white photos. “I found these pictures in the house.”
He adjusted his glasses and took the phone. “She’s not familiar to me.”
“It was taken in the 1940s. Maybe it was a younger version of my great-grandmother.”
He shook his head and handed the phone back. “Maybe.”
“None of the images capture a clear view of her face.” A woman running from a violent husband would always have lived in fear. I added, “Have you heard the name Alfred Gruber?”
“No.”
“According to the manuscript, Alfred was Gertrude Werner’s husband. Though Gertrude’s real name wasn’t Gertrude. It was Naida. She changed her name when she fled Austria. I believe Alfred put a bounty on her head.”
“I don’t know about that.” He sipped his coffee.
“Do you have pictures of Margaret?”
“I might be able to dig one up. If I find it, I’ll text it to you.”
“Thank you.”
“Your mother sure did love the water. She said she couldn’t imagine a life without it.”
Bitterness tightened my throat. “Sometimes I think she picked it over me.”
He sat back and pulled off his glasses. He seemed to wrestle with his words before he asked, “Did you know your mother was sick?”
All my images were of a tanned, fit, and energetic woman. “She wasn’t sick. She was in top form.”
“She had cancer. It was a brain tumor. It was a matter of time before the cancer caused dementia. She shouldn’t have been diving that last day, but I’m sure she didn’t want to die in bed like her mother, and she sure didn’t want you to see her wither.”
A dull headache pulsed behind my right eye. “She never told me anything about this. She never looked sick. She didn’t see doctors. She hated doctors.”
“A Greek doctor made the diagnosis when you were in Athens.”
We’d been in Greece the year before she vanished.
She’d had a bad headache that wouldn’t let her go.
“She’d taken the bus into Athens and left me behind at the boat with Nathan and her customers.
I’d been annoyed because I wanted to see Athens.
She said I had to stay and cover the boat.
When she’d returned the next day, she’d seemed okay. Happy. Her headache was gone.”
“The doctor put her on painkillers to manage her symptoms until she got stateside to see a specialist.”
“She never saw a doctor here.” I shook my head, searching for signs Mom had been ill. She’d seemed a little tired that last day, but nothing else. “She told you this?”
“I don’t think it was her intention. But her morning medication was wearing off. She became pale. I got her a glass of water, and she took a pill. I saw the bottle. I told her my wife had died of cancer and had taken a similar painkiller.”
Betrayal and hurt burned. “I wish she’d told me.”
“It’s natural for a parent to protect a child.”
Memories of her skimming along the hull of the Oceanus flooded. She looked so free, at peace. “She left me.”
“She knew the end was coming fast, so she reached out to Dr. Brooks and asked him to look out for you.”
I thought about the old man walking away from Mom’s table as she’d been speaking to Mr. Green. “Dr. Brooks. I’ve heard he was really old.”
“A hundred and eighteen when he passed.”
I shook my head, still marveling at the age. “We never spoke, but he moved like his entire body ached.”
“His last few years were tough. He was ready to close out this life.”
Wishes and curses—two sides of the same coin? “He set up the trust for you after your mother died.”
“Why? And why would she reach out to him?” I sat back.
“He must have crossed paths with Margaret on the Oceanus. When you endure a torpedo attack with someone, it tends to create a bond.”
“But Mom was a granddaughter.”
“Dr. Brooks was known for his loyalty. You worked for his great-nephew’s law firm, didn’t you?”
I thought back to how I’d gotten the job. A recruiter from the firm had found me working in a coffee shop and had given me her card. She’d said the practice was looking for bright interns. I’d thought it was a con. But Dave had encouraged me to take the appointment. They’d hired me on the spot.
“His great-nephew sent me back down here to clean out his house.”
“Maybe it was Dr. Brooks’s way of telling you the truth.”
His expression softened.
The sea glass and coin felt cool against the hollow of my neck. I’d never questioned why she’d given me money for a gift that day. But now, I realized she was trying to keep me away from Dr. Brooks and Mr. Green while they talked. She’d vanished the next day.
I opened my phone and pulled up the picture I’d taken of Mom and me that last day. She was wearing her dive suit, but there was no sign of the necklace. I’d assumed it was tucked inside the suit. She’d already left it behind.
“She wasn’t perfect,” he said. “None of us are. But she wanted the best for you. In her way, she tried to provide it for you.”