The Duartes Walk Their Shar-peis in Vineyard Haven

David and I walk our Shar-peis, John Rambo & Emma, most evenings and we’ve established a routine. We usually set off around six and walk directly to the Oak Grove Cemetery on State Rd., which is around two blocks from our house, and then decide which way to go from there.  It’s a little odd for a cemetery to be thought of as a starting place as graveyards are more commonly related to endings rather than beginnings.

It’s funny, but to me Oak Grove is a happy place; the spirits of Islanders past seem at peace and delighted to be right in the middle of things and included in the now. As a matter of fact, we bought two lots in Oak Grove the week following our wedding in 2002. Don’t ask me why; I guess we’re a tad eccentric, but they were really affordable. Also, I have a practical streak.  

One day I noticed a gravestone with the names of two people engraved on it but there were only birthdates, a dash and a blankspace: Eugene & Sheila De Costa, born 1942 and 1950 respectively. “Why isn’t there a date of death?” I asked. David said, “They’re not dead yet. Eugene rebuilds a lot of the docks on the Island.” 

That led to a discussion about what would happen in case of a divorce.
Emma & Rambo started tugging hard on their leashes; they were tired of lollygagging and didn't care in the least about such matters of interest to humans.

We had just reached the Pine St. exit from Oak Grove when that breathtaking double rainbow appeared in our Island sky. It was the third double rainbow David and I had seen since we’d met, and the colors were more vivid and intense that any rainbow we’d ever laid eyes on. They were both in a half-moon semi-circle shape going from horizon to horizon. David noticed that the color sequence of the top rainbow was opposite to that of the bottom rainbow. He notices stuff like that.

The sky in between the rainbows was a beautiful dark plum color. People were in their yards taking pictures. We headed straight to the stretch of beach between the steamship authority and Owen Park so we could view the rainbows from the water’s edge.  Also, our little Emma girl could have her walk in the ocean up to her tummy which is her favorite summer activity. 

As we headed down Spring St. to the water David paused when we hit the intersection of Spring and Look Sts.  “There on that corner lived Chief Lawrence Winterbottom. He was the fire chief in VH when I was a kid. And across the street over there lived our old dentist, Dr. Brush.”  Now that’s just too much, I'm thinking; a dentist named Dr. Brush?  “That’s right,” David continued, “he kinda put his knee on your chest to hold you down when he drilled your teeth, and his drill was powered by a pedal like the old sewing machines. And we had an eye doctor named Dr. Issokson.” My eyes were spinning around counterclockwise. 

After Emma had her dip in the ocean we walked up the dreaded hill at Owen Park and sat on a bench to gaze at the rainbows. They lasted an hour.