The Curse of the Rum Runners

By Donna Paulson

When past mistakes seem too great to overcome, can any hope of a future still be found? 

Tricia discovers a supposedly cursed bottle of rum hidden in her basement, and everything starts going wrong. As she starts down a path of self-destruction and alcohol abuse, two of her friends, Nick and Leaf, share the gospel wit

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trilogy Christian Publishing
• Release date: Jan 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9781637698136

Book preview

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The

Curse

of the

Rum

Runner

By Donna Paulson

The Curse of the Rum Runner

Trilogy Christian Publishers A Wholly Owned Subsidiary of Trinity Broadcasting Network

2442 Michelle Drive Tustin, CA 92780

Copyright © 2021 by Donna Paulson

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without written permission from the author. All rights reserved. Printed in the USA.

Rights Department, 2442 Michelle Drive, Tustin, CA 92780.

Trilogy Christian Publishing/TBN and colophon are trademarks of Trinity Broadcasting Network.

For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Trilogy Christian Publishing.

Trilogy Disclaimer: The views and content expressed in this book are those of the author and may not necessarily reflect the views and doctrine of Trilogy Christian Publishing or the Trinity Broadcasting Network.

Manufactured in the United States of America

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

ISBN: 978-1-63769-812-9

E-ISBN: 978-1-63769-813-6

Dedication

For my lovely children: Naomi, Sarah, Joshua, and Tyler.

Prologue

August 1976, Martha’s Vineyard

Tricia opened her eyes and saw the baby blue of the early morning sky. Where was she? She had no idea. Yes, this was her sweatshirt beneath her head. It was scrunched up and smelled of smoke. Her back, flat against a scratchy army blanket, felt itchy with sand. What the…? She sat up. She was in the back of a pickup truck, parked in the driveway of an awfully expensive-looking house.

Wiping some sand from her face, she felt something crackle off. Examining her finger, she saw dried blood. There was a deep scratch on her face. Oh, geez, what had happened? She couldn’t remember anything after leaving the bar.

Wait. She knew this street; it was one of the back roads that led from State Road to Eastville Ave. It would lead to the breathtaking cliffs overlooking the Vineyard Sound.

She looked around furtively, hoping that nobody could see her. Thankfully, she was fully clothed, still wearing her loose cotton trousers and linen T-shirt. Tricia noticed, though, there was now a giant rip at the knees of her pants. How did that happen? These were her only pair of nice eveningwear. She must have blacked out last night again. The curse of the rum runner? This, this bruised face and ripped clothes, waking up in a stranger’s truck; this was a new low, even for her.

Grabbing her sweatshirt and her purse (thankfully, she had not left it somewhere), she jumped out of the truck and started walking. Ouch! A sharp pain in her leg almost made her crumble to the ground. Her knee hurt! And it was swollen! That’s it! She had to get off this island. If she stayed any longer, she was keeping herself in danger! She just knew it.

Hobbling down the narrow street, she merged unto the road that ran along the Nantucket Sound. The view of the ocean from the cliffs was spectacular. Sailboats, fishing boats, and ferries bobbed upon the blue expanse, and the sky went on forever. But she was in no mood to admire the view this morning. She was feeling sick and lost.

She wandered down the hill and arrived at the entrance to the East Chop Beach Club. A lone figure was already strolling down the pebbly path from the parking lot to the dunes. The woman wearing cut jean shorts and a loose flowery top turned around at the sound of Tricia’s footsteps.

Hey Tricia, Leaf, the best and worse person for Tricia to run into this morning, greeted her. You’re up early this morning also.

Leaf gave Tricia a wide welcoming smile, which made Tricia feel ashamed.

Yeah, well, Tricia replied and added sheepishly, I sort of never made it home last night.

Leaf did not seem scandalized by Tricia’s confession. Instead, she waved her over, Come on. Come look for sea glass with me. The tide is perfect for it right now.

Tricia tied her sweatshirt around her waist and joined Leaf. They walked in silence on the pebbly path to the beach.

Hey, is something wrong with your leg? Are you hurt? Leaf asked.

Oh, I’m just a little stiff. Got up on the wrong side of the bed or something, Tricia lied.

As they ambled along the shoreline, stopping now and then to pick up the various pieces of sea glass, Tricia tried to hide the aches in her arm and leg. She searched the salty water as if the answers to the turmoil in her heart could be found in the foaming tide.

Stopping short, she grabbed Leaf’s arm. She could not take the secrets anymore.

Listen, she groaned, I know how much you’ve helped me. But I have to tell you. I need to leave this island. I really do. You were right. When you warned me, you were right! Tricia let go of Leaf’s arm but held her with desperation in her eyes, I have to leave, or…I will be dead!

Chapter 1

May 1973

Osley, New York

Do you have the shampoo? Nancy, Tricia’s sister, called back as the bike she was riding started wobbling down the road. Tricia patted the bag hanging off her shoulder and felt the bottle.

Yes, Tricia answered.

Tricia and her family lived in a small village named Osley, just north of New York City. The village was far enough from the urban streets to be surrounded by forest. A wide stream flowed through it, forming small waterfalls and pooling into a large swimming hole before disappearing down the landscape. When they stood at the banks of the Hudson River (which they liked to do even though it was greyish with pollution), they could make out the outline of the skyscrapers in Manhattan.

Tricia breathed in deeply, the sun soft with springtime air upon her face. A towel wrapped around her neck cascading down her back, she followed her sister. With every push and sway, Tricia felt the power in her youth; it sang in her muscles as she pedaled. As her hair flew from her face and lifted from her shoulders, she reveled in the joy of nature. They glided down the hill and pedaled leisurely past the abandoned country store.

And there, just lurking around, were the boys. The usual suspects, the cool kids that formed the in crowd, hanging around the steps of the building. A few years older than Tricia, but not so much that she could not wish to be friends with them, they recognized Tricia enough to nod in greeting and maybe even say hi but never beckoned her over. She knew some of their names. And she wondered, sometimes, what it would be like to be invited into their posse.

Tricia saw how some of the boys were now casting appreciative glances at her sister. She knew that boys thought Nancy was beautiful. Even boys who were obviously way too much younger than Nancy to ask her out. She saw the way Tom gestured to the others and how they grinned with agreement. Well, Tricia surmised, at least she was with her popular sister. Yet she would wonder if one day she too would get these appreciative glances. (Anyone seeing her as she ran barefoot and young over the sand, her lithe body bronzed and sculpted from the sun, could tell her the answer is yes and with whispers of so much more.)

Soon they arrived at an opening in the hedges, which grew wild along the road. After disembarking from the bikes, they walked them down the trail. Enveloped in the cool shade of the pine trees, the gurgling sound of water reached their ears.

You want to go first? Nancy asked. But Tricia knew it was not really an offer.

No, that’s okay. You can go, she answered. She took the towel from her sister and, placing it along with hers on top of a nearby rock, she stood close while Nancy straddled the water and, bending forward, let it flow over her head. When Nancy blindly reached out, Tricia placed the opened bottle of shampoo in her hand. The smell of herbal essence shampoo filled the air. After lathering and rinsing, Nancy wrapped the towel around her dripping hair.

Hmmm, I love that smell, Tricia said. Just fresh herbs and nature!

Yeah, we’re being natural, Nancy giggled. And we’re being good about not using a shampoo with all artificial chemicals.

Yeah, I know, especially good for the waterfalls here. Tricia watched her sister’s towel fall from her head, revealing her long dark locks, wild and wet, And right now, you look like an earth princess, the princess of herbal essence!

Just like in the commercial! Nancy did a little earth dance, hopping from foot to foot and shaking out her hair.

Okay, now your turn, Nancy said, and Tricia repeated the same steps as her big sister.

But when Tricia went to wrap the towel around her head, it wasn’t where she left it.

Instead, it was in the hands of a boy standing next to Nancy. He was smiling and nodding at something she was saying. She thought she recognized him as one of the boys with Tom and the others, always horsing around.

Hmmm, excuse me? Tricia called to them.

The boy looked over at her, and his smile grew wide, Oh, yeah. He brought the towel to her, Is this what you want?

Ah…yes, Tricia answered, but when she went to grab it, he pulled it back behind his back.

Tricia froze with indecision. Was she supposed to fight him for it? Then, making a gallant show of it, he presented the towel back to her.

So herbal essence, huh, he pointed to the bottle of shampoo lying on the ground. The cap was off, and a small stream had escaped onto the soil.

Tricia, wrapping the towel around her dripping hair, closed her eyes. Was this really happening?

Yeah, Nancy responded, with a cut of impatience, confident in her cuteness.

Ready? she asked Tricia, who was still amazed at what was happening. Was this boy befriending her?

Nancy, not waiting for an answer, started walking her bike up the path. Bye, she called back. Tell your sister Jeanie I said hi. I’ll probably call her later.

A look of confusion appeared on the boy’s face. He looked confounded. Quickly recovering, he answered, Will do! When the boy tilted his head, his raven black hair fell across his face. He pulled the locks from his face to reveal an impish smile. He picked up the bottle of shampoo and screwed on the cap, Here, don’t forget your shampoo.

Thanks, Tricia took the bottle and picked her bike up from the ground. The towel fell from her head to rest on her shoulders. She knew he was watching as she tied the towel around her neck and placed the bottle in the bag hanging from her handlebars.

Well, see you around, he saluted her and ambled off down the path.

Tricia wondered at the smile on his face; was it a smirk or a welcome? She was sure they held a hint of mischief and maybe a promise.

Once back at the house, Tricia placed her bike next to Nancy’s in the garage.

So who was that guy at the falls? she asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

That was Jeanie’s little brother, Nancy answered.

Oh, so…what’s his name?

Nancy continued walking, and Tricia thought she wasn’t going to answer. Jack, she finally said. Wait, no. That’s the other brother, hm…Will, that’s it, Will. Jeanie calls him Will the pill, haha.

No, I know who Will is, Tricia shook her head. Will’s a grade above me.

Oh, Nancy shrugged, Then I don’t know who that was. She paused as she considered this, But what a little scoundrel! He said okay when I asked him to say hi to Jeanie. Nancy honked with sarcastic laughter. Tricia laughed along with her.

Nancy opened the door, Wait. Now I remember. He tried to hang with us one night. He lives at that home for boys, you know, it’s a few towns over in Hartsdale. St. Vincent’s Home for Boys. We drive by it all the time. Anyway, he like snuck out but then the police were looking for him, so we told him to go away.

Tricia thought that was kind of mean of Nancy and her friends. If she were there, she would have helped him.

So, what happened?

Hmm? Well, the police got him and probably brought him back. I don’t know. I don’t care.

Tricia did care. She cared very much. Now she wished she could have talked some more with the boy.

Nancy snapped her fingers, Nick! That’s what he said his name was, Nick. Nancy cackled, Oh, look at you! You look like you’re in love. Hmmm, I guess he is kind of cute in a bad boy way.

Tricia blushed and followed Nancy inside the house.

The house was quiet. Tricia sighed with relief. Their mother, who seemed in a bad mood earlier, must have gone to the store with their younger brother, Joel. And their father was at work in the city.

Nancy threw the wet towels in the hamper and went to her bedroom. A few minutes later, she pranced out the door. See ya later, she waved. I’m going to Suzy’s!

Tricia spent the rest of the afternoon doing her chores and then grabbing a book, curled on her bed to read. Soon, she was lost in the world of puppies and heroes the story presented to her. Usually, this story would have captured her attention for hours. But Tricia found herself reliving the encounter with that boy at the waterfalls. Putting down the book, she looked dreamily out her bedroom window, a new tenderness stirring within her.

She saw when her mother’s station wagon pulled into the driveway. The car, coming to a halt at the big rock, did not stop completely in time. The front bumper made a crunching sound as it hit the rock.

The passenger door swung open, and little Joel jumped out of the car and ran into the house.

Oh boy, Tricia groaned. As she suspected, today was going to be like every other day. Her mother swayed a bit getting out of the car. After she slammed the car door, she hoisted her pocketbook on her shoulder, reached in to grab a paper bag of groceries, and marched into the house. Tricia went to meet her in the kitchen. She paused at Joel’s bedroom door and knocked lightly.

Yeah? He responded, I’ll be out in a minute.

Tricia wondered what her brother was doing, but at least he seemed okay.

When she arrived in the kitchen, her mother was putting away some cans of soup in the lower cabinet.

Hey there! she greeted Tricia with a playful shake of her head. There’s another bag in the car.

I’ll get it, Tricia offered and went and brought the second bag inside.

As she was placing it on the counter, her mother sighed happily, I got you and your sister a present! Look! She held out a record album. It was brand new, still wrapped in cellophane. Looking at the band on the cover, Tricia held back a frown. It was all the new Beatles songs, but the band was not the Beatles. It was some strange, not heard of startup band, and the album was a weird supermarket knock-off special.

But Tricia was so touched that her mother had bought it for them. The sweetness of the gesture clashed with the knowing that they would never listen to it. She was only glad Nancy wasn’t here. Her sister was not known for her sensitivity or tact and would have probably told her mother right then that it was a cheap fake.

Wow, Tricia feigned delight. This is great! Thank you!

Her mother seemed so happy to give them this gift. She reminded Tricia of a little girl excited about Christmas morning. Something inside Tricia’s heart cracked a little.

I can’t wait to play it!

Tricia fled to her bedroom, the record in her hand close to her chest, wondering why this made her so…sad. Why did she feel like she was about to weep?

Chapter 2

A few weeks later, Tricia was startled out of sleep by the sound of her mother and father arguing. She crept down the hall towards the dining room. As she passed the painting of her mother, which adorned the wall, it seemed the eyes in the portrait followed her. When she peered around the corner, she saw her father trying to hold up her mother. Her mother, obviously drunk, was struggling to free herself from her father’s hug. Tricia could hear her mother mumbling words, but they were slurred. Then, to Tricia’s alarm, her mother broke free and lunged toward the large picture window.

In horror, Tricia realized her mother was trying to jump out the window. Let me go, her mother yelled. I want to die! Her father, grabbing her, tried to calm her down. There was much commotion and tumbling, and then her mother fell hard, hitting the glass with a thud. The window held up better than her mother, who was on the ground moaning.

Dottie, stop it! her father’s voice was filled with compassion. Come on now, Dot, he guided her out of the room. Let’s go.

Tricia watched them trudged out the front door. Tricia followed and then stood still as a rock in the gaping opening. As she waited, the chill of the night slowly reached her. Her neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Diagra, stood on the path that led between