You can run far, and you can run fast. But you can't run away forever.

Cometh the Hour Cometh the Woman: Part 11

[***][***][***]

I needed, to get the HELL, out of THERE.

The nice thing about making a run for it after just stopping at the airport was that I was already packed. The effect was lost somewhat when I had to stop by the house for my computer as well as some shoes and toiletries, but I was in and out in about 90 seconds. Now that had to be some sort of feminine record. I’ll call Ripley’s when I get back!

I just needed to get away from people for a bit, all people. Boys, girls, pregnant boys and girls! I had the idea of heading off to the mountains to hide under a rock until it all went away. But I couldn’t become a mountain man and let the beard hang down to my belly. I couldn’t do a lot of things I used to be able to do. I had the idea of checking out the lake house up north. If it was boarded up and unlivable when I got there, at least I had given myself a good long ride with Melanie between my legs. She was a good girl and we both deserved a run, I had the canvas down, my hair bound, and the Stones were on the radio. Sometime soon, I would have to get myself a replacement ipod and try to rebuild my 64 days. DAYS mind you of music, or perhaps just convince Jessica to mail it back to me. I doubt she would approve of much of the stuff on there, anyway.

According to the packet DeGeas had given me, I possessed, me and the bank now, I guess A quaint little Canadian pine four bedroom “cabin” on the Nebraska side of Lewis and Clark Lake. The lake was an impoundment, which is a fancy way of saying they dammed it up. The actual dam mind you, not the smiting, though I have heard the Missouri has asked for that too on several occasions. 25 miles long and 7 odd wide, it was one of the largest pieces of water between the Great Salt Lake and the Great Lakes. And on this day of days, when I should have been entering the Naval Academy, I kind of wanted to look at water, if only to torture myself.

I didn’t know Nebraska geography from a hole in the ground, which is what I gather a lot of the state looked like once you got west. I, however, would be heading north. A quick stop off at a gas station to buy fuel, and a road map, and I was on my way. I would have preferred a G.P.S. unit, but didn’t want to spend the time tracking one down. The way I figured it, as long as I stayed on this side of the river I would be OK, and when the day comes that I can’t find a 25 mile long lake with my own two hands and a road map is when the Boy Scouts come to repossess my eagle badge.

WHICH they will get when they pry it from my cold dead hands!

[***][***][***]

It was a peaceful drive along state highways, and I needed every bit of it. Clouds formed about a hundred miles into it, and started to scatter little raindrops on me. I welcome each one that stung my face, reminded me that I was still alive. I took a hell of a chance with Melanie, all things considered. That little cloud looked to turn into a thunderstorm and rain down a full on shower to drench the uncovered inside of my Jeep. But fate smiled on me, this time at least. I drove on north. There was only one road around the lake, the numbers on the houses went higher as you went west, lower as you went east. Eventually, after about half an hour of hunting and pecking, I came upon the house on a hill. There was a locked gate over the private road leading to the top, but the key that DeGeas gave me, let me through.

There was a mere two stall garage at this property, so I had to be careful how I parked. The door stuck a little on the way up. It was clear the garage hadn’t been used in some time, but it opened, and I was able to get Melanie inside just in time since it started raining hard a few moments later. The garage was detached from the house. So I got a little wet as I carried things into the house proper, but my car was dry so that’s all that counts. The inside also had the drop cloths over the furniture just like the house in Omaha. The power was on, and I didn’t really care if I slept on dirty dusty sheets tonight, as long as I could use some time to clear my head.

The main entrance led into a family room which itself was led into a well appointed kitchen. The fridge and freezer were both turned off, but that was OK since nothing was inside them. The pantry had a few boxes of mac n cheese and other items, but they had expired when I was in grade school.

Clearly I hadn’t thought things through.

I was, however, saved by the decadence of western civilization. Lewis and Clark Lake was something of a regional resort destination, I knew no way was Joe six-pack going to be far away from pizza delivery. So, after checking my smart phone, since the phone book on top of the fridge was from 1998, I called in a massive order with sodas to accompany it, then switched on the fridge so that it would be ready for the inevitable leftovers. Carefully managed, I could live off pizza for a day or three, though I’m sure the good Dr. Lyons would scold me mercilessly.

It was a beautiful lake.

[***][***][***]

The house sat in the bluffs above it, and was about 70 feet in elevation and 200 yards walking distance to the actual shore. So I knew if I wanted to swim or fish or sit by the beach and read, I had a bit to go. But the inconvenience of that walk was more than made up for with that commanding view. I could see miles to the west and east and even across the whole width of the lake into South Dakota. The clouds were dancing across the water and as I watched a lightning bolt came down on the far side followed shortly thereafter by the loud report of its thunder.

Nature it seemed was tied to my mood today… thanks nature, I owe you one.

The wooden deck outside was built for people to enjoy that view, it had a large protecting awning overhead. So I dragged one of the deck chairs to an advantageous position left the door leading into the living room wide open so I could hear the front door for the pizza man and just watched God have a bad day.

It was only 5P.M. or so and closing in on the longest day of the year. That meant we should have had plenty of sun light left, but it was currently a cloud induced dusk with the black clouds blotting out the sun. The fat fast rain hit the ground thousands at a time, with their reports creating a symphony of sound. The wind caught the rain on occasion and would spray me a bit,and the splashes when it hit the ground would occasionally hit me in the legs which were closest to the edge of the awnings protection, but I didn’t mind.

I stayed there for about an hour, watching the storm blow itself out as it marched to the east. Soon enough, little rays of sunshine started poking through the cloud cover followed by more gaps in the coverage. The sun, this point was at a low enough angle to catch all the moisture that was still in the air head on, shone blood red as it began to set in the west.

The pizza boy rang the door bell, I thought seriously about waiting on that deck until he got too tired and left, but my stomach showed me who was in charge when it demanded something more than the oatmeal it had consumed nigh on nine hours earlier. The pizza boy was in fact a pizza girl, which was all to the good, I’m not sure how I would have dealt with a leering pimply boy starting at me in the t-shirt that had got a little wet in embarrassing places. I took the stacked boxes from the overloaded girl, and gave her $20 tip, to her visible amazement. If she asked, I was going to tell her it was for having a pair of ovaries.

But she didn’t ask.

There were no dishes in the cupboards, nor anything as low class as paper plates for the Scott's little weekend getaway. So I tore a few pages out of an outdated phone book, and used them, instead. I’m sure that Miss Manners would disapprove, but then she would have to devote a couple of fresh chapters to my sort of situation. Until she did, I was content to eat like a cavewoman and drink coke directly out of the two-liter bottle.

When I had sated my hunger and thirst, I put the boxes in the refrigerator, which was cooling down nicely, and went back outside to watch the sunset. I tried not to look at my new cell phone, and failed. You see reader; I had sort of made an oath, a holy oath before all gods and … some devils.

When you spend almost your entire life working toward one goal, then through an unlooked for miracle, find someone you love who, soon enough, ALSO shares that dream, you sort of make plans. Wild unspecific plans if I ruled the world, sure, but also more mundane ones like always staying together even when pulled apart. Back when we were both academy bound, we knew that plebe summer would basically be like Auschwitz. OK, OK! I know, but WORK with me here.

It would be a scientifically designed hell to break the rebelliousness out of terrible teens, but not, it was hoped, their spirit. It would be grueling, physically demanding, intellectually overwhelming, All the while, just like those concentration camps, the sexes would be separated. But at the same time, you would be able to see your loved one through the wire. Close, but never close enough. There, but apart.

We knew we would be at our emotional lowest during plebe summer, and if either of us was going to break and run, it would be during those few weeks before the academy proper began. Once you’re in the classroom, it was all skull sweat, and a small bit of keep your quarters clean, your bed made Mickey Mouse stuff. We could handle all that. But to get to that point, we needed to make it through plebe summer. We had sort of sworn a binding oath that we help each other through it.

They take away your cell phones just like you’re in prison. If they catch you with it, it’s not a ding, but they definitely make you pay for it. We had watched one too many prison movies, I guess, because one night after the New Year, we had designed a way to smuggle some in, and an intricate system that worked off of a complicated mathematical formula we had both memorized. At exactly a certain time, plus or minus midnight, depending on the date, we would turn on our phones and have a short talk with each other.

The rest of the times, the phones would be off both to prevent detection and conserve batteries, plugging it in to the barracks electrical outlet sort of being a dead giveaway. The forbidden calls purpose was raising spirits, buffering hopes, with sufficient will and a reasonable amount of guts, it would be enough to get us through. Tonight, the first night of the pact, it was to be at 11:47 P.M.

Four hours and three minutes from now, according to my phone, my new phone mind you, the old one having been destroyed in an act of terror performed by the federal government. The plan was that we would alternate who called who, to prevent patterns from developing, and cut down on the detection risks. Jessica drew the first slot, and we used to joke about how she would escape the clutches of the lesbian death squads to win free to the bathroom and privacy enough to make the whispered call. She wouldn’t have to deal with the lesbians at this point, perhaps, but there was no way she would be able to make the call. She didn’t know my number. So, If I was going to keep my promise, I was going to have to be the one to make the call.

You’ve been reading my story for a while, so you’re about as up to date as I am. What would you do?

With the benefit of some hindsight, I realize I was a complete prick when the pregnancy scare hit. I went from the surprise attack on her part of telling me she was pregnant and getting an abortion, to the counter attack on my part, a freaking KIDNAPPING her like she was some medieval peasant, without even trying to go to the peace tables. In a post Iraq world, I had acted unilaterally, and was standing on that aircraft carrier waving a big mission accomplished banner about when I got what was coming to me.

Maybe.

I’m not without sin, I’ll grant you that, but there was the whole stealing my body aspect of our personal dynamic to get over. I mean come on! But then…she had said she was sorry, and she had asked if I could forgive her. I had three hours and fifty eight minutes to decide… I sat there as the sunset and the cloud cover gave way to the stars above.

Thinking about what was done, and what must be done. About the good times,bad times and the friggin GREAT times. While forgiveness was still a ways away, if she was willing to give me a chance to evolve from a knuckle dragging chauvinistic pig, I would try to let her work her way out of being a literally ball breaking bitch.

[***][***][***]

I dialed the number by heart, I had after all been paying for it for the last several years… It went straight to voice mail. I got the time zones right didn’t I? I waited a few moments, checked the time function on my phone again and dialed a second time. This one actually started ringing. I hoped she was smart enough to have it on vibrate…

“T…” stuttered a very quiet voice that I once knew so well. “Tommy is that you, I don’t recognize the number?”

…

…

…

“So babe… how they hangin?” I asked as nonchalantly as possible.

Pause

“You thought for hours on what to say first, didn’t you?” she responded eventually, once the shock had worn off.

“Kinda…” I admitted reluctantly.

“Tommy…” she said and I could hear her trying to physically force herself to keep from laughing. It might be funny. At least to us two, but I doubt any of the guards or on the prowl upperclassman would be interested in the joke.

“I didn’t think you would call,” she said once control had been regained.

“Well,” I said trying to act less nervous than I was. “I made a promise to a lady, and I sort of missed you a bit.”

“Then you only have to look in the mirror!” he whispered emphatically, perhaps too much so to avoid detection.

“Quiet, you don’t want to get found out on your first day, I plan on calling you for a while, so you have to keep that cell phone unfound.”

“You do, I mean, why… after everything that I did to you, Whenever I look at myself now and see you, I can’t help but think of what a total bitch I was to leave you like that tied up and pregnant, just because you were trying to do the right thing. If I didn’t think it would get me sent to hell for murder, I think I would probably kill myself. I’m just a worthless piece of shit.”

“Hey now, no one talks about my girl that way, not even me,” I said as forcefully as I could without giving away her position to anyone in the bathroom who might hear her. “And if you mention suicide again, I will personally drive down there, overrun your perimeter and kick your ASS!”

“Oh Tommy,” she said a moment later with a slight chuckle in her voice. “I’m just so sorry.”

“Well, I’m sorry, too, we can both be sorry together, but that’s for the far future and doesn’t get us through tonight. How is it?”

“Not as bad as it’s going to get, I’m sure, mostly paperwork and medical induction. The nasty stuff is yet to come.”

“Do you remember the schedule?”

“Yes.”

“Stick with it as long as you can so we alternate your times, though since there is only one of us now, you can go ahead and always make the calls when it’s safe for you. And if telecommunications break down there is always the mail. It’s not as fast, but if we write each day…”

“Does this mean you forgive me?” she asked hopefully.

“Leaning that way,” I reluctantly granted. “if there is no way back, then we have to go all the way forward. If you were up until recently willing to fall in love and live happily forever after with Thomas Ryan, then I guess I can force myself to do it too, me having such a large respect for him and all.”

“Tommy that’s great!” he almost shouted. “I mean-“

“And one more thing,” I interrupted him. “Since this looks to be permanent I can’t have you going around calling me Tommy particularly when that’s supposed to be the name you’re wearing. You volunteered for the Naval Academy, people are already looking at you funny, no reason to add fuel to the fire.”

“What then does that mean you want me to call you…”

“Jessica,” I answered her, “Was the name of the girl I loved. And it sort of freaks me out to be called that. So in a couple of days when I go in to change from Scott to Ryan on my ID I’m going to ask to drop the Jessica part of it and just go by Katherine. I can be a Kate or a Katie I think, maybe.”

“I hated that name, made me sound like some fat queen,” he answered me disgusted. “Or a fat starship captain.”

“And if you tried putting on some of your old wardrobe on that new body of yours that’s exactly what you would look like too. On me, however, I think that name sounds dignified. It will serve as a clean break. Jessica is a name that is recently full of bad memories and broken dreams, but Katherine has a future… if you will allow her.”

“I’d like that, but what about me, are you going to be fine calling me Tommy, I REALLY hate your middle name. I don’t think I could go around letting anyone call me Sullivan.”

“Nor would I let you, that name was to appease mother’s people, and it didn’t work anyway. But since we're adults now, I figured, that we could maybe do away with the kid's nicknames. I usually went by Tom, and you called me Tommy, but the birth certificate says Thomas. If you start insisting everyone call you Thomas, pretty soon Tommy will be a memory too.”

“Think it will work?”

“Could do, if we work hard at it, and it only needs to last long enough for you to gain rank. Soon enough, I might be referring to you as the general like my mother does to my father,” I said grinning fondly at the memory.

“They’ve called me you know, and you’re sisters too, I don’t know what to say to them. I never really had a family to care about me.”

“Well you do now, a whole clan of them… what do you, what do you tell them about me?”

“I said, that we were trying a long distance relationship for a while,” he answered hesitantly. “After you…failed the medical.”

“True enough, I guess… By the way you’re broke, or I, we are I guess.”

“What!” he said and this time it was an actually scream

“Short story even shorter, wicked stepmother lost whatever money of yours she didn’t just take.”

“That bitch!”

“Sort of my prognosis too, it’s not all doom and gloom, DeGeas is mortgaging a few properties that should be enough to last a while. I can send you all the copies of the paperwork to look over.”

“I won’t have the time, I don’t even have time for THIS! I should be getting some sleep. And anyway,” he said sighing and calming down. “I trust you.”

“Thank you,” I said oddly pleased.

“Do you need money? I can send everything I have left, I won’t be using it.”

“Thank you again, but use it yourself on Saturday liberty. You will probably need the R&R more than I will, and anyway, whatever is in your savings won’t make any difference. It was just a perspective thing. To drop from the many millions to the few hundred thousand sort of makes it look like we’re poor, but most people get by just fine on less, and you and I can too. There is enough there for me to go to college, I spent most of the weekend sending out late applications. One or three should find roost, and I’ll be out East in a bit to see you.”

“We can, we can maybe meet up when I get a Saturday off, it will be a few weeks though,” He offered hesitantly and rather more effectively than the coffee shop asshole did trying to get me to go to the movies.

But then, he WAS my husband.

“I’d like that, we’ll talk again at the next check in, for now, save your battery and get some sleep, it only gets worse from here.”

“Thanks for the pep talk baby,” he said happily.

“Anytime,” I offered as I ended the call and sat back down on the deckchair exhausted. I fell asleep there in that position. And I hadn’t had such a good night’s sleep in some time.

[***][***][***]

I woke to the early morning sunlight in my eyes. The angle of the sun and the awning over the house had prevented me from getting a money shot for some hours past dawn, but it had finally risen high enough to get me with its unwanted attention. I stretched out, got up from the deckchair and scratched myself in places a lady probably shouldn’t, and saw an interloper to my morning routine. There was in the little back bay the house was attached to, a lone fishing boat floating about 300 yards offshore. They were just floating, and the wind was drifting them steadily to the east across the lake.

Nothing too odd about a fishing boat, at least this one was an actual boat made for fishing, not one of those over powered jet boat monstrosities that can get you across the lake at 70 mph and scare away every fish in the process, too. This one had an older man and a young boy, or least from this distance, child, I suppose I can’t be one to judge the whole enforced gender roles thing, and it would be perfectly fine for a little girl to fish too. The child though, was banished to the front of the boat while the distant figure of the captain had the top of the motor off and was looking into it, like staring would somehow fix it.

Tourists…

I walked carefully down to the shoreline from my deck, the Scott’s had been thoughtful enough, to provide a concrete pathway so it was easy going,even had a built in a set of steps when the incline got to steep. I cupped my hands in my mouth and tried to make my new voice carry as far as it could.

“AAAHHHHHOOOOOYYYYY THHEEE BBOOOAATT,” I shouted. “DOO YOOUU REEQUIIRRREE ASSSSISSTTTANCE!!!”

“Mmmuuurrroh ….goorr….bbbooa…phnnnnnnn.” came back over the water.

“REAPEAT PLEASE!”

“aaannno…phhhhhhh..gggorrrrr.” was the much clearer response. However the adult was not quite lost to all reason as he started waiving a orange square boat cushion in an arc back and forth in an approved coast guard manner signaling boat in distress. My house was the only one in this bay, from what I could see the land east and west was natural resource and parkland. I had to wonder how the Scott's had got permission to build it in the first place.

But while I had an almost unspoiled view, and the privacy that I had been looking for, it also meant there was no one else to help out these mooks. Much as I might like to sit out on my porch eating pizza, and watching the show of this guy trying to paddle back to the docks 10 miles away, I was currently in an introspective moment in my life and was trying to be a better man…woman…person.

There was a boathouse attached to the property, but no boat inside it, probably had been sold off years ago with on one to use it. The interior, though, yielded a nice selection of tools and trinkets. Engineer Scott it would appear, liked his toys. Some of them had not been stored properly, and a decade of Nebraska weather had specked a few with rust.

However, after a few minutes of poking around, I found a small tool set which had been in a waterproof case. It was about ten pounds all together, and I yanked out some of the incredibly useless stuff, but it should probably be enough to at least diagnose what was going on. Grabbing some nylon rope that was hanging on a peg by the wall, I headed back into the house proper cursing all fishermen.

Jessica had three swimsuits among the cases I had brought. Two of them were skimpier than I approved of when I was looking at her, and not the one actually wearing it. The third, however, was her one piece suit from the Exeter swim team. It was modesty incarnate. I double wrapped my cell phone in a Ziploc, deposited it in the tool case, made sure that the damn fool thing was actually waterproof by testing it in the kitchen sink, then secured it to my body with a couple different knots. I would be embarrassing myself all to hell for these people, and didn’t want to compound said embarrassment by showing up with an end of rope tied to nothing.

The trip down to the shoreline was slightly different without shoes, the sun had been up only a few hours, but summer was upon us, and it had already heated the concrete to sole scalding conditions. So I had to walk down on the grass and gravel which was one more indignity I was suffering for these people. If they didn’t at least say 'thank you', I would probably…

The swim out to the stranded boat went smoothly enough, the tool box forced me into a modified doggy/freestyle, besides, I’m not sure what breast stroke would all involve in my new configuration. It took me longer than I thought it would, probably a result of lost strength and faulty technique, but also perhaps a result of this body being out of the training regime it was used to. I resolved once back in a stable situation, to restart the exercise program, even if I did have to put on one of those tacky leotards. After all, I didn’t want to be forced to get one of those mommy makeovers!!

“Permission to come aboard, Sir!” I said to the man and snapped off as sharp a salute as I could while trying to tread water, and holding a heavy weight.

“Granted,” said the man as he chuckled and held out a hand to me. He was slim man of about 55 or so with short brown and grey hair with the sort of haircut you usually get on high powered lawyers or Hollywood actors. However, since I couldn’t recall seeing him in any theaters recently, I pegged him as a shyster and hoped that I wouldn’t end up sued for my efforts. I was lifted into the boat, and I set my case down gently on the deck.

It wasn’t a big boat, as boats go, about 18 feet end to end, and the three of us along with all the fishing gear rather took up a lot of space. The small child though, I could sort of infer it was a boy now, from the length of the hair. He was annoyed with the situation and stayed up in the front, away from all the drama with his hands holding a little electronic device plugged into some earphones. Since he was not actively screaming at me or leaking bodily fluids, I was content to let him fry brain cells… I was going to make a great mom.

“Don’t mind Henry, he’s just disappointed.” said the man indicated the bow. “His grandfather promised him a fish this morning and it looks like I failed him.”

“How long were you stuck out here,” I asked looking around.

“About 90 minutes since the engine conked out. I cut the motor so we could drift in and not scare the fish away. When we were done, I tried starting up again, it was a no go. I tried signaling for help, but all the passing boats were too far and too fast to see me. I was considering jumping overboard and making a run for shore to get help… but the boy.”

“Couldn’t leave him behind, I quite agree. No phone?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No I… wanted to be unreachable for a bit,” he shook his head at his own foolishness.

“I quite understand, came out here to do something similar and woke up to see you here.”

“That’s the Scott place isn’t it?” asked the man gesturing toward my lake house.

The question sort of surprised me before I realized that he wasn’t being some sort of stalker, but that the prominent family was probably well known to a number of people.

“Yes it is,” I answered cautiously.

“You one of the cousins? My place up here is just four houses west. I remember attending a few parties there, but these days it’s hardly used.”

“I suppose I must be a cousin to someone somewhere, but my… my father left me that place.”

“Oh,” the man said giving me a hard once over and making me every bit self conscious of the fact that I was in a clinging swimsuit while he was in jeans and field jacket. “Your Martin’s girl, Jessica?”

“I don’t really like to be called that, I go by my middle name Katherine these days, and you are?”

“I’m sorry,” he said obviously chagrined.

“What’s your name?”

“Oh, ha, ha. Well I guess you HAVE been away,” he said grinning at situation “I’m Robert Pilsner… the Governor of Nebraska. We met when you were a little girl, though I was a Congressman, then.”

“Well your Excellency,” I said not entirely believing him. “Let’s get you back to your state, wouldn’t want South Dakota to see you vulnerable and attempt an invasion.”

“We could lick em,” he said with a smile on his face. “I’m afraid I’m not going to be much use with that tool box, Miss Scott. I always had people to do my maintenance for me. Do you know which end of a wrench to hit the nail with?”

“Most times, your other option is my cell phone, if it survived the trip. So your Excellency, a call to shore for someone to rescue you, or being showed up mechanically by a girl?” I asked raising my eyebrow suggestively.

“Politically, both have advantages and disadvantages, and it’s just ‘The Honorable’ Robert Pilsner. However, I think I’ll let you try, first, if you fail, the rescue party is a good fall back. Though the state troopers may send out a search of their own if I‘m not back in an hour or so.”

“Fair enough,” I said as I went to work. I changed places in the boat with him as I went in the back to inspect the outboard motor. It was as I expected, he had made a mess of things as only politicians and petroleum can.

“I noticed, a lot of water had got in the oil line,” Pilsner said trying to be helpful, when he saw what it was I was inspecting.

“That’s because it’s not the oil line, that’s the water line.”

“Water line?” he asked confused.

“Yes, its water cooled, hadn’t you noticed when it takes a piss off the side?” I queried with a funny look at the supposed adult.

“Yes well I thought that was… oh, right, water cooled of course. Is that why it won’t start?”

“Well, the hose was not connected, but that wouldn’t stop it from starting, just burn it out in time. So I’m guessing that was you, when you were messing about?”

“Possibly,” he admitted to me reluctantly.

“Actually, everything looks in fine working order, you even have gas, it looks like,” I said dinging the red tank next to me with my knuckles. “Turn the ignition, I want to test something.”

Click. Click. Click.

“You’ve been running a lot of electronics haven’t you?” I said with a wry grin.

“Well, yeah. Henry wanted to watch some cartoons and it’s a lot easier to fish when he’s distracted. So I plugged in that portable DVD player into the ac adaptor.”

“And Also The G.P.S., the fish finder, radio, and the trolling motor," I continued amused. “When’s the last time you charged the battery on this here bucket.”

“Um, never, But I’ve had the engine running?”

“This motor doesn’t have an alternator; one's got nothing to do with the other.”

“Well, hell! I don’t think it is the battery, we still have juice enough for the toys.”

“They don’t draw much at the moment, but starting the motor takes a hell a bunch a power, there wasn’t enough left…. How long have you had this boat and you not realize that?”

“This boat, about three days for the long weekend I promised myself. It belongs to my brother in law, and he never informed me, My boat HAS an alternator, but my son Richard took it bass fishing down in Arkansas.”

“Those nasty brother in laws…” I grinned at him. It was sort of a power trip to see an adult, even crazy ones like Bob here taken down a peg by their own assumptions.

“Well, what now, call in the cavalry? That is unless you have a solar charger in that suit of yours.”

“Well, it just so happens that the fine people at Suzuki anticipate this sort of problem,” I said popping an internal bay in the top of the motor and revealing a handle and about five feet of chord. “Ever yank start a lawnmower?”

“Not for many years,” he said a bit wary.

“The principle is the same, though this one is even more of a bitch to get going,” I said as I unwrapped the chord. “I probably don’t have the upper body strength to get it done. Would you care to prove your masculine superiority to me?” I asked as demure as I could manage.

“You need to work on that expression,” said Pilsner as he grabbed the handle. “My wife can teach you lessons.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

He gave it a few tugs, then a few harder tugs, then after a full minute with face red and haircut mussed, he sat back down to catch his breath.

“Well aint that embarrassing.” he said trying not to look at me.

“No shame in it, that’s about 20 times the horsepower of your last lawnmower. Here, let’s try it together.” I said as I moved into position behind him, and we both had our hands on the chord. “On three, one, two, THREE!”

Cluglcuglug BRRRRBBBRRRRRRRR!!!

“We have lift off,” I said as I quickly moved the wheel to point us away from the approaching rocks and idle down. I replaced the cover on the motor and then repacked everything I had brought on board. “Now whatever you do, don’t cut the engine till you get back to the dock, and charge that battery as soon as you can.”

“I’ll do that,” he said offering his hand to me. “Thank you very much for your timely assistance."

“Had to do it, you were spoiling my view,” I said graciously as I shook his hand. “Can I trouble you for a ride the last little way to my dock?”

“Seems the least I can do,” he said as he sat down at the wheel and slow boated us in toward shore. When we got there, I didn’t bother tying off, just jumped from amidships to the dock and turned to face Pilsner.

“Miss Scott?” he said.

“Ryan,” I interrupted.

“Pardon me,” he raised an eyebrow confused.

“I married last week, I’m Mrs. Ryan now.”

“Congratulations, is your husband here? I’d like to offer you both dinner tonight with my family. Your father was a good friend and a major contributor. I’d like to get to know you better.”

“My Husband is back East at the Naval Academy,” I said not liking where the conversation was going. “Contributor… listen are you really the governor?”

“Last I checked, though the unicameral may impeach me when they hear about this great mechanical incompetence of mine, if that’s a smart phone you have, you could always look me up on Wikipedia if you don’t believe me.”

“I’ll take your word for it… look, I appreciate the offer, but I am not exactly full of social graces as you can tell, comes from being orphaned early I guess. It’s no good trying to butter me up for campaign contributions as I hardly have enough to go to college. Wicked stepmother and his partners took almost everything before I inherited.”

“Did they?” Pilsner asked with a squint, I thought I might have detected a little twitch of rage in those ice blue eyes. But then it was hidden quickly by a professional politicians smile. “Well, I’m set up for the next election, anyway. I would still be grateful for your presence at dinner, I’ll send a trooper and a car at 6: P.M. Dress is casual.”

“I… sure, has to be better than cold pizza.”

“Maybe not, it’s my turn to fix dinner, but we will send out for Chinese if things go south. See you at six!” he said as he pulled away from the dock.

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