Chapter 5: Union Pointe

     The fall settled on Vanceboro much like any other year.  September was warm, as was October.  Saturday afternoons were spent in the company of friends at East Carolina University football games.  Sunday afternoons were spent in New Bern at his parents for lunch.

            The noontime lunches were routine.  Todd and Abby would leave Vanceboro shortly after church in the morning and make the thirty minute drive to the Historic District of New Bern.  Once there, his mother and father would have lunch prepared and they would often stroll down to the waterfront and eat on the picnic tables at Union Pointe.

            Every Sunday conversation started with talk of the previous day’s football game in Greenville and how the Pirates had once again either stunned a perennial powerhouse or been embarrassed by a relatively unknown.  Slowly, after ranting and raving and getting all of the frustration off of their chests, the conversation would usually turn to more important things, namely their jobs.

            Sadie and Emerson were both retired, but they both enthusiastically volunteered in the community.  Sadie worked as a guide at Historic Tryon Palace and Emerson as a waterfront tour guide.  Every week each had a new story to tell. 

            It was strange sometimes to listen to the stories of his parents.  When he went to college out of state for four years, he never thought that when he returned back home that he would sense so much of a change in the relationship that he maintained with his parents. 

            His mother maintained many friendships with Todd’s boyhood friends.  For the most part, Todd distanced himself from those old relationships.  But his mother regularly kept him updated on the comings and goings of everyone he would remember.  What they were doing in their lives, really didn’t make a difference to him.  Sure, he was always pleased to hear how someone he knew got married, but it never really made a difference to him as to who or for what reasons they got married.  He listened though, to his mothers stories. 

            Abby generally carried more of their side of the conversation than did Todd.  Todd figured that it was because of their mutual background in education.  Before his mother retired she was a high school English teacher in New Bern. 

As Abby and Sadie discussed child rearing habits and educational tactics, Todd and Emerson nearly always found themselves strolling along the walkway of the park. Rarely did they talk as they walked.  Todd had always acknowledged that the relationship that he maintained with his father was awkward.  When they were in a group of people they could very easily bounce conversation off of one person to another for hours.  But when the two of them were together by themselves, the conversation simply ceased. 

Emerson was one month shy of turning sixty-six.  His hair was nearly completely gray.  When he was in his thirties and forties, when Todd was at home, his face was closely shaven.  Now that he was retired, he let it grow and his face was scraggly and suntanned. 

From where they stood on the walkway, the Neuse was a little over a mile wide.  The temperature on the water was in the sixties, but there were still a few boats teetering towards New Bern from farther down the Neuse, perhaps Oriental or Bayboro. On the other side they could see the faint outlines of small docks and jutting out from the riverbanks.  Behind the docks was a wall of white pines. 

“Did you have a good time at the game yesterday, bud? His dad asked as they continued walking along the bricked walkway. 

“Abby and I had a great time Dad.  The barbecue was great as always.”  His Dad always brought his custom built pig cooker to the tailgating party before each game.  Couples and family friends would enjoy a great pregame meal and a pick-up game of tag football on the embankment just below the stadium in Greenville.  “How many people you reckon we had at the party yesterday?”

“Your mom and I think we counted about 26 or so.”  He smiled to himself.  He liked to entertain people.   He was always good at making people feel “part of the family” as he often said.  Every year the pre-game tailgate had grown by a few couples and he didn’t mind cooking more and more as the years seemed to quickly go by him. 

Todd repeatedly kicked a small stone in front of him as they continued to walk.  He often looked back over his shoulder to see what his Mom and Abby were doing.  Although they both liked to talk, they both had a particular habit of getting a bit too involved in what they were saying and sometimes found themselves getting into rapid fire exchanges.

“So where are you up to this week?”  This was a usual Sunday afternoon question from his Dad.

“Ducks Unlimited wants me to run up to Ahoskie for some “research” this week and next.”  He shook his head a little bit, not looking up though, but paying attention to the stone that he kept bouncing ahead.  “It’s not too far away.  Just a few early morning drives out there.  No big deal.”

“I talked to Dad yesterday.  He said that you haven’t called him in quite some while.”  Emerson looked at him through the corner of his eye.  Todd kicked the little stone quickly and let it tumble over the edge of the walkway and into the lightly rippling wake against the embankment.

“I haven’t had the time to lately.”  That wasn’t entirely true, and he knew it.

“Just call to see how he is doing.  He and your grandmother like to hear from you and Abby.”  

“I’ll try to get to it this week, Dad.”  He wasn’t interested in calling.  His Dad could sense as much in his voice.  Emerson stopped walking and watched as Todd walked five or six steps more before he noticed he was walking alone. 

“You act like its hard for you to pick up a phone.”

“I never liked the stupid things. I stutter too much on them.”

“Don’t give me that.”  Emerson looked at him with a disgusted face and then looked away.  “Besides, I know that’s not the reason.”  Todd looked out across the river and saw an egret dipping low to the water and then sailing quietly and graciously towards her nest on a nearby boey. 

Emerson stopped, turned around, and stared at his son.  His eyes seemed to burn holes into Todd. 

He turned his body away from him and looked over at the table where Abby and his mother were. 

“Son, you do what ever you feel you have to do.  I’m not going to force the issue with you anymore.”  Todd relaxed his stance and turned back towards his Dad.   “He’s eighty-six years old bud, he ain’t going to be around much longer, I think even you would acknowledge that.  Let him know that you are thinking about him sometime.”

“I do think about him.  I think about him and grandma every Sunday when Abby and I come down here for lunch.” 

“Then act like you do.”

Emerson turned and walked back to the picnic table where Abby and Sadie were still talking.  As they did almost Sunday, they continued talking even as he began packing up the picnic basket.

Todd watched as his dad packed the purple plastic plates and laid them gently in the old wicker basket.  So what if he didn’t call his grandparents all the time.  It wasn’t that he didn’t love them. 

A seagull squawked overhead and flew down to the boat docks near the hotel next to the park.  Todd walked to the furthest point of the rounded walkway and put his hands on the railing. 

The smell of the wind off of the river was different than the smell of the ocean, thirty miles away.  The ocean had a fresh smell, one that felt alive.  The river was stale, and felt tired.