Seaing Strait 

by Ann Davie 

Bram stumbled over the hall runner and landed on his bung knee. He knew he couldn't get to the phone before Rose, but he'd be damned if he'd face his sister's pinched looks by staying in his chair while it rang. 

"Get up off your duff, Bram. I can't reach the phone." 

Rose peered from the tops of her glasses as she reached over his head for the phone on the hall table. Bram shuffled on his backside to avoid getting whipped with the phone cord as Rose pulled it taught. 

"Hello?" Rose smiled into the receiver. Bram was always surprised at how she could put on a honeyed voice like that, even if she had been spitting nails the minute before. "Yes. He's right here, I'll just put him on." Rose covered the mouthpiece, 

"It's for you. Get up off the floor." 

Bram groaned as he put weight on the sore leg. "Hello, this is Bram Wystan." He cradled the phone between his shoulder and ear, wobbling his knees with his hands, like some kind of slow motion Charleston. 

The caller exhaled sharply, his relief breaking through the static of the long distance call. "God. I can't believe I've found you. Finally. Geez. If you knew how hard it's been to get to a phone, and then to get a hold of you. Amazing." 

"Excuse me? Sorry, who is this?" Something told Bram that if this person had walked up to his front door, he would have turned the lights off and left the doorbell unanswered. Pretending he wasn't at home would have been the smartest thing to do, he could tell. But it was too late now. 

He gave a questioning look to Rose. She just scrunched her face. Up close Bram could see the lipstick stain of her lemon-puckered lips, the red peaks bleeding into the creases. He looked away. How he hated those lips. 

"Wow. Of course. Yeah. I'm Franklin Caster, Shubert's son. He told me to call you." 

The young man, Bram would have guessed no more than twenty-five, kept rattling on. Shubert. The name sparked something, like a light tap on his shoulder, but he was sure that if he turned around he'd find no one. 

"Shubert? Caster? Wait, you mean 'Sugar'? 'Caster Sugar'? Why it's been...what?...forty years? Well, I'll be." Bram smiled ear to ear and smoothed his fingers through a thick shock of white hair. 

"Who is it? What's he want?" Rose's breath was hot and wet on Bram's neck as she wheedled her way to the phone to listen in. 

"Hold on a tick, son. Be right with you." Bram covered the mouthpiece. Franklin's tinny voice carried on. Bram could only catch a few words, "...in a bit of a fix..." "...wouldn't bother but..." "...dad said..." 

"You remember Caster Sugar? Yank who settled just out of town for a few years, then left. Would have been around the time when Mum died. I think you even went with him once or twice." Each clue hit a brick wall. 

"Oh, never mind. Let me finish talking to the kid and I'll tell you later." His attention returned to the young man's panicked bursts. 

"Sorry bout that, son. You were saying? Something about some trouble you're in? Where are you?" Bram knew how to invite hassles into his life. Most of the time he did it to spite his sister, as he'd done for most of the sixty-odd years they'd shared together. He wondered why he was always the one to pay the price. 

"Oh for Pete's sake, Bram! Just tell the kid to go to Hell. What do you want to go helping some crazy loon's son for?" Rose crossed her arms, folds of skin draping down. 

Once a strong, solid woman, age had seen her frame become knobby joints hung with fleshy crepe. Bram smiled. She did remember. What's with the pretense then? Bram could understand, though. Caster was someone he had tried to forget as well. Forty years had worn away the resolve, and he was left with nothing more than a sly grin remembering their stupidity all those years ago. 

"Hold on son. Start over. First off, tell me where you're at." He put on a fatherly voice just to see how much it bothered Rose. She opened her mouth wide, looking like she was about to take a bite of air with her crooked teeth. Before Rose could say anything, Bram gave his shoulder to her. She got the hint and shuffled down the hallway, her stockings whipping against her stiff slip. Rose had been trapped in sixty's decorum for the last couple of decades, unable to see that her ideas of propriety were as ridiculous now as they were then. What was a woman doing wearing layers of nylon in the Top End? 

"Right. OK. I'm in East Timor, just outside of Suai. And man, it's getting pretty scary around here. That's why I'm calling. I can't get out. There are plenty of Australians leaving, but they're not really able to help us. UN guys are just interested in saving themselves...can't blame them, really." 

Bram cut in, "What the hell are you doing over there?" 

"Well a bunch of us were in Java, just hangin', you know. And then Darren, this guy from Brisbane, came up with the idea to go to Timor. Caught a fishing boat over to West Timor and then just sort of worked our way east. You know, thought it might be exciting." 

"You mean you don't have a visa or anything, no papers, nothing?" 

"No. That's the big problem at the moment, can't get into the city without them. Too many guys with guns. They all seem to be looking for some excuse to shoot an outsider, too." 

"Well, seems to me you've provided them with plenty. What were you playing at? Any chance of you getting out the way you came in?" 

"No...no chance. We managed to find a woman here who has family in Darwin. She's kept us in her house for the past couple of days. But it's getting too hairy for her. They find out we're here and she's dead. Anyone helps us and they're dead." The youthful bravado was gone. Shame at having to be bailed out tinged his words. 

"How many of you are there? Where are they from?" 

"Just two of us now. Me and Tommy. He's from Ohio. The others were from Australia, they managed to hook up with some Australians nuns and get out. The Indonesian army was able to get 'em away. But not us. Said something about having to wait until the UN or Americans came through. But they haven't. No one's around here now." 

"Franklin. I honestly don't know what I can do to help you." Bram sighed and gripped his forehead, trying to sound sympathetic without actually making any kind of commitment. "I can try to talk to some Indonesian fellas in Darwin. Maybe they know of some way to get you out of there. Don't know what side they're on, but they might have some ideas." 

A few minutes ago, when Rose had been standing next to him, Bram had the urge to spite her, to do just what she didn't want, which was get involved. Now that she was quiet in the kitchen, his strength waned. His urge to help was not born from a natural tendency to do good, rather from the need to get under Rose's skin and itch about. 

"Mr. Wystan, Bram," the young man's voice cracked, like a rift moving along a frozen lake, revealing the certain death skimming the surface, "When my dad gave me your name, he told me that if anyone could get me out of here it was you. Said you'd know what that meant. I talked to him a few hours ago. He's tried his best, but can't find the right person to talk to. He told me to say he wouldn't have come to you if it weren't necessary." 

"Yeah. I know what he means, son. And I'll get you out. Don't worry." Bram knew he'd have to do it himself. It may have been over forty years now, but the run from Darwin to Timor couldn't have changed that much. Water was water. And he doubted whether the Indonesians or the Timorese would be looking to the south side of the island, all their troubles were north, in Dili. Franklin had that in his favor, at least. 

"What kind of mess are you getting yourself into this time Bram?" Rose popped her head sideways out into the hall, like some kind of strange doorknob. Bram ignored her cackles. 

"Look, I've gotta work on a couple of things before I can tell you too many details. Call back again tomorrow morning, say just before noon. If it's too hard to get to the phone during the day, then wait until later and call when it's dark. In the meantime, sit tight. Do not, under any circumstances, leave the house you're in. Even if you think the lady you're with is at risk. She's got a better chance of getting out of this alive than you do. " 

"What if I can't get to the phone or it's not working? What then?" 

"Then find someone to tell you how to get to a small inlet about two miles east of the Suai port, ok? I don't think things would have changed that much, hope so anyway. There used to be a small group of houses, not quite a town. Mostly used by the fishermen to hide when caught out fishing where they weren't supposed to. Someone around there will know what you're talking about if you tell 'em that. If you don't hear from me, you and your friend get over there. It'll be dark, can't say anymore than that until I've made a few arrangements. Don't know what day, either. Is there a phone number I can get you on or get a message through?" 

"I'm not sure about the codes or anything, but here it is...four three six zero two two." It's a phone just outside of town, in some sort of health center. I think it's the only one around. Get a message to Prini; she's just down the road from the phone. They'll know." 

"OK, son. I've gotta get going on this. Might be one day, could be two or three. I'll get you out though. Then when you next talk to your dad...tell him, damn. It's not worth it. Just tell him what's done is done." 

"Right, Bram. I will. Don't know how to say thanks enough. We'll wait for you or see you east of Suai." Franklin's voice trailed off, as if keeping the phone line alive was enough to save him. 

"Yep. Bye. Take care, son." Bram softly laid the receiver down in its cradle. 

How could he almost smile remembering the anguished tones of a past generation in trouble, yet feel so gut-wrenchingly overwhelmed by those of the present? He'd gotten Caster out of Timor all those years ago. There were some things he'd done in the past that he knew he'd do over again, no second thoughts, no doubts. But Bram could point to a time that he would have gladly erased, and Caster sat like bookends around that time. Forty years had passed and Bram still cursed his poor judgment. Why'd he have to get tied up with a snake like Caster? One mistake and here he is, left with his sour milk sister and a house made of dust and old lino. Caught one too many times running between the islands off the northern coast of Australia, trading in anything or anyone, Caster hadn't many options available to him. He had to get back to Darwin or else risk the wrath of those he worked for. He looked to Bram for his salvation. And after his hide was saved, never gave a second glance back to the poor soul left behind to pay for it all. 

Memories tumbled over in Bram's mind, taking the rough edges off, making the recollections look better than the past reality. Bram had been in the Navy after turning eighteen. Having grown up a fisherman's son out of Darwin, he possessed knowledge of the area his superiors did not. He ran reconnaissance of the islands, watching for God only knew what threat, imagined or real, to appear in the Timor Sea. Back then, the greatest menace to peace in Australia had been thought to exist to the north. For the most part, nothing ever happened. Illegal fishing, running cheap goods into the country or out of it, depending on what the goods were. 

Bram never knew what to believe, so he just stopped believing. He began to think of himself as a nothing more than some sort of parking meter inspector lost at sea. 

Caster had earned a devilish reputation. He liked telling people he was called "Sugar" because he was so sweet. But those with whom he had less than pleasant run-ins, called him "Castor Oil" because he left a bitter taste and gave you the shits. He'd been stationed in Korea, and like many after the war, willingly became entangled in the trading life of Southeast Asia. 

His shrewd and wily business acumen never got in the way of enjoying himself, though. Supposedly, he even wooed the harbormaster's wife once, just to get some details about ships coming in - making connections was all that mattered in his business. 

Caster had tested the waters with Bram on more than one occasion, seeing if he'd believe money was greater than honor. To Bram, neither one was worth as much as peace. All he'd ever wanted was to skim the warm waters off Darwin, a perfect pebble dashing the waves. His idea of heaven was skirting the blue inlets, imagining a cocoa skinned woman waiting alone on a slip of white beach with a heavy curtain of green foliage behind and, in front, a wide expanse of blue, blue, blue...nothing but sky and sea. 

It didn't take long for Caster to find out how to get Bram on side, or anyone else he needed, and he never hesitated in his maneuvers or machinations. Caster easily found Bram's weak spot. All it took was a little nudge. 

"Come on Bram. Anyone can see you're not the Navy type. First of all, you look bloody awful in a buzz cut. And think about it, you could make enough in the next couple of months to never have to salute another officer again. All you have to do is look the other way. It's not like I'm asking you to take any of them yourself. It's just that there's no other way to make sure I get them in. Besides, they want to go, really, it's not like I'm slave tradin'. And I'm bringing Dewi over, too. She wants to get out, be with her brother over in Darwin. And I know you've been sweet on her. She told me she waits every time you're in Suai port to refuel." 

Bram silently stirred his milkshake, wishing he'd been able to have something stronger. He was due to report in half an hour and couldn't afford anything strong on his breath. Trev's Cafe was a five-minute walk to the wharf and a likely place to find just about anyone who spent more time on water than land. He often found more information for his superiors here and at the Darwin Hotel pub than anywhere else. That left more time for enjoying the water. And wasn't that just what Caster was offering? 

Nothing was ever as good as Caster made it sound. The first time or two, it was easy. After that, it became more than just looking the other way. Sometimes he had to put the coastal police off Caster's trail. Other times he had to take a case or two of God only knew what in his hold. It was always "the last time, never again," and there was some truth to the statement. The next time was always more than what had been asked of him the time before. 

Dewi was never onboard, and some sort of explanation was always offered to keep him hoping. She'd still stop by while Bram refueled, her bright smile flashed and Bram would dream again of warm waters lapping over bared skin. 

She surprised him one day by saying she was going on the next trip Caster made. She also said that Bram might have to take some people onboard as well as a few boxes. She slipped her hand over his forearm; the warmth from her small palm set his body on edge. How could he register her heat and his chills at the same time? Bram told her with a bold softness, "Sure, love. No worries." He flipped the words casually, like a coin, and watched to see his fate spin in the air. 

He knew he was in for bad luck, but was unable help himself. Even with his stomach tied in knots, there was no way he'd have her see him squirm. He bent his head shyly and watched Dewi shift her weight from one sandal-clad, pink-bottomed foot to the other. Her toes were as small as pearls. Everything about her was tiny and feminine. He thought she might blow away in a gale. 

The week passed as if he'd been watching the second hand on his watch swipe away each second. They were to meet up around midday at the inlet just east of Suai. Bram had fought the urge to be early. He'd spent the night in Suai port, hoping Dewi might slip in after dusk. She didn't, but he could wait months if he had to. 

Mangroves lay in thick ragged skirts along the coast. Bram darted across the shallow harbors, always looking forward, never back. The shards of sun paved the waves to the west. He slowed down to a lazy bob as he worked his way toward the inlet. A thin peninsula curled around, sheltering a small jetty from view. Bram waited for it to be revealed. 

Expecting to see Caster's boat waiting, he instead found three sleek speedboats hemming in Caster's rough beast. Not knowing whether to pitch back or go ahead, he decided that they'd most likely think twice about taking on someone with a Navy issue cruiser and biceps straining the short sleeves of his uniform. 

He approached steadily, keeping directly behind the middle boat. Caster's tall frame and blond hair stood out from the rest of the half dozen Indonesians on the dock. As he closed in, voices rose and fell, clipped by the breeze. From what Bram could see, Caster was in trouble. 

The group of men turned to watch Bram's approach, not in the least distressed to see a representative of Australia's armed forces working his way towards them. Further down the dock, Bram saw Dewi fenced off from the group by two men holding rifles. She thrust her arms between the guards and received a rifle butt to her chest, throwing her back on to the splintered planks. Bram raced the motor and slid up along the right side of the dock, not caring that the pylons rammed into the side of the boat, scraping and scuffing the dull gray paint. He cut the engine and threw a mooring rope quickly over the pylon closest to him, knowing that it probably wouldn't hold. 

Bram raced down the short pier and called, "Hey! What's going on. Let her go." Caster tried to push past the men circling him, calling out, "Bram! Leave her! Get out while you can...they don't want me to take her." 

Bram pushed past the two guards and crouched down to cradle Dewi's shoulders and head. She coughed and gasped, but wasn't badly injured. She slipped a small parcel into his shirt and then pushed him away, saying, "Go. Please just go. Take Sugar with you. They'll kill him if you don't. They won't hurt you." 

"I can't leave you here." 

"You have to. Sugar was set up by my brother. He'll be here soon. These guys won't do anything until he gets here. Please, leave now." 

Bram helped her to her feet, holding her slight frame in his hands. 

"You sure you're going to be safe? Your brother won't hurt you, will he?"

 "I promise. But he said he's going to send me to Jakarta. I won't see you anymore. I have to go work for my uncle. Please just go now!" The rough rumble of a large engine cut the still air. Bram turned to see a boat slicing a wake in the distance. It would arrive in two minutes easy. 

Bram looked down at Dewi; her heart-shaped face produced a quivering smile. He slipped a finger under her chin, tilting it up slightly, and bent down to kiss her lips. He lingered to taste her sweetness, aching at not being able to fold her in his arms. He turned, holding the parcel against his side under his shirt, and pushed his way through the mob, determined to get the hell out of there fast. He was not in the mood to listen to any arguing. Bram grabbed Caster's arm and pulled him to his boat, throwing him over the rail. 

"You're going to have to tell me what this is all about. And I don't want any bullshit. Understand?" 

He grabbed the rope and with a sure leap, landed on the deck. He pushed off from the dock and started up the engines. 

"Sure. Bram. Whatever you say."

Bram had a feeling that the humbling act of being rescued didn't sit easily with Caster. On the way back to Darwin, Caster finally told everything, including the truth. Bram decided it must have been the first and only time in his life. Caster had been in debt to Dewi's brother in Darwin. It must have been a lot, as Caster wouldn't elaborate, other than to say, "You could buy Darwin and still have enough change left over to pick up a chunk of Sydney." 

Dewi had helped Caster and her brother get goods and people in and out of Timor. Turned out that it was an excellent place to store contraband, no customs, no port authorities, and no questions. Bram was about to get his first bitter taste of being used. 

"One other thing you should know. Well...two. Rose might have a word or two about me next time you see her. I told her to never tell you about me. When I saw that you were on my side, I sort of broke things off with her. The other, you're not going to like. I put Dewi on to you." 

Bram had stored that suspicion away, hoping he was wrong. Her taking an interest in him seemed so unlikely and too much of a coincidence. He'd been there countless times before, and was always left alone. Then she showed up and shortly after, Caster made his pitch. Bram pulled the small package, paper in folded around its contents, out from his shirt. The wrapping was a letter in small round letters. It was only a few lines; the last one cut deeply. Dear Bram, I am sorry you were involved in all of this. I never meant to hurt you. Please forgive me. You're the sweetest man I ever met. Your Dewi Inside was a chain with a small medallion made from pressed tin. The front had a picture of a man's profile set against waves and sailboats, the back held an inscription Bram roughly translated to be "Take me to sea. No thoughts of danger will you have." 

The two men made the rest of the way in silence. It was only as they approached Darwin in the very early hours that Bram ventured to ask Caster of his plans. 

"Dunno really. I suppose I'll head back to the States. Safest thing for me, no doubt. How about you? You gonna chase after her? She just might be worth chasing after." Caster sat holding his knees, attempting to keep the cool night air at bay. 

"Don't know how I'd be able to. But maybe I might." Bram brought the boat to one of the smaller wharves in Darwin, mostly used for pleasure craft. This time of night, no one could tell who they were. Caster jumped off the boat and landed on the small jetty. Standing in the harsh white lamplight, Caster looked like the kid he was. His dark hair, normally slicked back, fell in his eyes. His weak smile held none of the self-assurance he normally had in abundance. 

Bram pulled away from the pier and called out, "See you around Caster. But I'm not doing any more work for you. You come near me, and I'll let Rose know where you are. She'll take care of you." 

"I dare say she would, Bram. But you won't have to worry about me. I'm gone already. Thanks." He turned and stepped out of the lamp's halo and into the darkness. And he was gone. 

The next day, nothing happened. But Bram knew it was only a matter of time. He even considered setting backfires to the conflagration he'd have to face with the Navy sooner or later. Should he come clean? He decided to just keep to himself and stay quiet. 

It took four days. Dewi's brothers had gathered all they needed to ensure that they were left alone and passed it on to connections in the Navy. They needn't have worried; the last thing Bram wanted was to put Dewi in any kind of risky situation. Brotherly love only went so far. 

Bram was called in to refute the charges of aiding and participating in illegal trade that were being prepared against him. He was offered the chance to leave before any digging around began, something the Navy was less than willing to see happen. Bram hadn't by any means been the only transgressor and the Navy wanted to limit the amount of dirty laundry it had to deal with. Bram was discharged without any record, given a full pension and told to keep away from the Navy and its personnel, or else. 

Caster was as good as his word for once and disappeared without a trace. Almost. The harbormaster's daughter ended up bearing a striking resemblance to Caster. 

Dewi was long gone. Bram did try to find her. He bought a boat with some of his savings and spent a couple of months tacking east and west and back again across the Timor coast. The necklace was kept tucked away inside his shirt pocket, he was unable to bring himself to wear it. That would mean he really held out hope of finding her again. 

Years passed and became decades. And after awhile, Bram resigned himself to just merely getting by. Now, out of the blue, Caster's son was asking for help. Bram wondered why the hell he should bother. If he were honest with himself, he knew he'd help him, because even reliving the part of his life that led to his downfall would bring him a little closer to the dream he almost had. 

After Franklin's phone call, Bram set about getting everything in order. He didn't sleep for a day and a half. No further word came from Suai, and from the news, it didn't look likely that he'd hear from him again before he left. The night before he left, he tried ringing the number Franklin had given him. A crackling, sputtering line told him that no lines were available to that part of Indonesia any longer. 

The fighting had escalated so dramatically in the last few days that Bram considered calling off everything. It wasn't until he saw the midnight bulletin that his mind was firmly set to leave. A young man looked into a news camera, one of the few to remain in Dili, his haunted eyes were darting over the heads of those around him. His gaze locked onto another young man. The first one shot out his arm, grabbing the collar of the other and pulling him close. They clasped each other's shoulders and burst into tears before heading off to the vans taking them to the airport. Around them was chaos, Hell. Building skeletons stood smoldering. Bodies lay on the street, limbs at sickening angles. He couldn't leave those kids there, not for any reason. 

The next morning, Bram left early, being careful not to wake Rose. She had known something was up, but no amount of poking about could bring Bram to let her know his plans. She'd just have to live with it. He made it into town before seven. He hadn't been in Trev's Café for easily twelve or thirteen years and wasn't sure it would be open. It was. Bram was surprised to see that hardly anything had changed. He sat down at the counter, and ordered a milkshake. He'd arranged to borrow a mate's boat for a few days. It was fueled up and ready. Supplies were onboard. It was time to leave. Bram took out the necklace and slipped it over his head. "Guess I should report for duty now." Bram paid his bill and then left.