On the way home from school, Hope initiated conversation with her daughter. She told her about her teaching day and asked about Cori’s day in school. Hope believed that daily talk was the best way to build trust and relationships. People who didn’t talk to each other didn’t stay with each other. Doug had thought of that. He always insisted on talking, even when they weren’t particularly happy with each other.
“What test do you have tomorrow?” Hope asked.
“Math,” Cori answered. “Easy-peasy.”
“Will you need to study?”
“I’ll probably just do a few examples from each of the chapters we have to know.”
Hope said, “When I was in school, my math teacher said that if you did the homework every day and corrected your mistakes, you didn’t have to study. You already knew how to work the problems. You could take the night off before a test.”
“And did you take the night off?” Cori asked.
“Not a chance.” Hope laughed. “Even though it made sense, I still studied.”
Cori laughed. “Nice story, Mom.”
“I do the best I can to frame worry correctly, but that’s not why I asked about the test. If you don’t have to study, how about going out to dinner?”
“Sure, where?”
“The Culpepper House?”
“We’ve never been there before.”
“I know. It’s supposed to be a nice place with a bar and dining room.”
“Can we eat in the bar?”
“If you want.”
“Cool.”
“But not at the bar. We’ll get a booth or a table.”
“I’m old enough to sit at the bar, but a booth sounds great. Can I order anything I want?”
“Within reason.”
“Cool.” Cori had a big smile on her face.
The Culpepper House was basically an old house that had been converted to a restaurant sometime before WWII. Over the decades, it had passed through several owners and various renovations. The food had been uniformly good throughout its history, which made it a popular eatery for Castle Park. That it had survived the hurricanes and floods was something of a local legend. While Hope had heard a lot about the place, she hadn’t had the chance to try it.
That evening, she was not only testing the cuisine, but she’d managed to get the owner, Clive Thomas to talk to her about his family. She’d told the man that she was researching a possible book about his famous ancestor, Captain Thomas. That was enough to get the interview. She shared that information with Cori.
“Wow, really? That would be awesome if you wrote a book.”
Since they were early for dinner, Hope and Cori were shown to a booth in the rather dark bar. She supposed that dark bars were the norm in the days before electricity. The bar itself was long and wooden with a mirror behind it. In front of the mirror were a number of shelves filled with bottles of various whiskeys, vodkas, gins, and any number of other alcoholic beverages. The bartender was an older woman with bleached hair whipped up into some kind of tall nest. Hope had no idea what the style was called. The bartender smiled warmly as she handed over menus and took their drink orders. She said the regular waitress would be along soon.
“This place is old,” Cori said, looking around.
“Did you expect something different?” Hope looked over the dinner choices.
“Well, I don’t know, but something newer than this. This place is as old as our house.”
“Not quite,” Hope said. “But it’s close. Think about all the people who have stopped here for a meal over the years.”
At that moment, a rather tall, thin man, with a black-dyed goatee arrived at the table with their drinks.
“I believe these are for you,” he said, as he served. “My name is Clive, and I’m the owner of the restaurant.”
Hope had to admit he had a winning smile and a glint in his eye. She guessed he was just short of fifty. She’d met such men before … men who took a quick appraisal of a person, making judgments mostly on what showed on the outside. Clive probably would be attracted to a trendy, sexy outfit, and some bling. He might never take the time to delve below the “look.” She thought he was probably a man who wondered why he’d never been able to form a close relationship.
“Scoot over,” Clive told Cori, who moved to the inside.
“Now,” Clive said as he took a seat next to the teenager, “what about the great Captain Thomas did you want to know?”
Hope could feel Cori’s stare. Her daughter had researched Captain Thomas and probably knew as much as Clive. She hoped Cori wouldn’t correct the man.
“I don’t know if you’re aware,” Hope said. “But we live in the old Johnson house.”
“I heard someone had moved in,” he said. “But I had no idea it was two beautiful women.”
Cori giggled, and Hope fought the blush rushing up her face. Clive made her uncomfortable.
“It’s not two beautiful women,” Hope said. “It’s just Cori and me.”
“Don’t tell me what my eyes can see. But we’ll discuss that some other time. What did you want to know about the old Captain?”
“It’s my understanding,” Hope said, “that Captain Thomas actually worked for Mr. Johnson at one time. Is that correct?”
“Indeed, it is. The captain skippered several ships for Johnson. I don’t know what caused the falling out, but they did have an issue. The captain left the area, moving up to New Bern or Hampton Roads. He was an amazing man, if all the old family stories can be believed.”
“So, he never settled his differences with Mr. Johnson?”
“I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”
“Well, to tell the truth, we found some old documents in the house, in the attic. According to them, Captain Thomas and Mr. Johnson had a disagreement about some jetsam the captain had left behind during a storm.”
“Ah, yes, that old tale. Well, as the story went in my family, Jackson Elmo Thomas got caught in a hurricane off Hatteras. It was all he could do to save the ship which required that he dump some of the cargo. He always said that what he did saved the ship, which without his quick efforts, would have joined the ship graveyard off the coast. He lost the inquiry, because Johnson bribed the maritime commission. Despite that, he continued his career.”
“What became of him?” Hope asked. “I’ve never been able to find out.”
“There are two stories about that,” Clive said. “The first is that he sailed around South America, all the way to Tahiti. He was so taken by the place, that he stayed there. He was older by then, and I suppose, if you have to retire, Tahiti is as good a place as any.”
“And the second story?”
“That tale involves a woman. It was said that Jack Thomas could charm a snake, and it was rumored that he kept a woman in every port he visited. I have no idea if that’s true. As the story goes, he was with a woman when her husband came home. Jack made a dash for the door, but he was a step too slow and got himself killed. In those days, a man could take action if he found his wife with someone else. Being a man without property, Jack was buried in a pauper’s grave somewhere in Virginia.”