Saturday, September 7, 2013

Saturday September 7 2013


 
Woken this morning by three noises: knocking, barking, screaming.  The knocking, it turned out, was someone rapping knuckles against a porthole.  The barking, obviously, was Butkus reacting to the knocking.  The scream, probably just as obviously, was someone reacting to a big, black, barking mass lunging up from below decks.

This all happened, of course, in seconds.  I was in bed, naked, and still half asleep, so my response time probably was not what it might have been under ideal circumstances.  By the time I rolled out of my bunk all three noises had stopped—no knocking, barking or screaming.  There was however a new noise, yelling.

“Duncan, you idiot, get up here and control your stupid dog.”  The voice was loud but impressively calm.  It was, despite my having heard it only briefly the day before yesterday, unmistakeably Evolene’s. 

Now clad in shorts, I climbed  out on deck, and greeted my visitor.  Turns out Ev was feeling a little sheepish about missing another day of work, and was looking for a key to get into the office to begin her career in journalism. 

It took a while, but I finally convinced her that spending the day with me, chatting and learning about Midden Harbour, would be far more valuable than whatever it was she planned to do at a desk in the office.  So, she came aboard and we cast off and I spent the next six hours trying to familiarize her with the town, its people, politics, and economy.  It all went well, and when she climbed back on her bike for the ride back up the hill, we were on good terms;  maybe not friends yet, but on our way.  I think.

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