Well, this is the first page of that damn journal I’m supposed to be keeping, but don’t expect me to write
in it any longer than the class runs.
Today.
Bad
storm outside.
Doc
came by. Seemed a bit distracted when he took my vitals. None of his normal (and irritating) ‘how are we feeling today’
chatter. Then his cell phone rang. It was Morton! I couldn’t hear what was being said between the two, however, Jamie
couldn’t get two words in. Seemed Chip was angry for some reason, so I grabbed the phone and asked Chip what was wrong.
Not a good move. He simply said he had a bad connection (I think that was more an excuse
to hang up than the inclement weather causing any transmission troubles.) He said he’d call back ( but he never did).
Then
to my utter astonishment, Jamie asked me if I had a French & English dictionary anywhere. Now why would I have such a thing? I may have visited France once or twice in my
life, but have never had the desire to learn the language. After all, I got by
with ‘merci’ and ‘Ou est la salle de bain ‘(where’s the bathroom) just fine, thank you very much.
In
any case he said he’d be back some time next week and that he was looking forward to me completing the character sketches
for my class. (He’s more than interested in Angie).
After
he was gone, I just sat there awhile while the wind and rain smashed against the window. I felt really Alone. Yes, I’ll
admit it. I felt depressed. Really depressed.
You
would be too if you remembered Lee, soaked from such a storm, barging into my office, sitting on the edge of my desk,(dripping
wet!) and asking me if I’d care to join him in looking at a new batch of used sailboats that were for up for sale at
the nearby marina.
“In
this downpour?” I asked, incredulous as I couldn’t help noticing that he was making a puddle on my carpet, while
water dripped down his face from wet curly hair plastered to his skull.
“Best
time to check them out,” he said, “when they’re being tossed
back and forth in the elements, without having to sail them too far out. At least
if we fall overboard,” he grinned that sunshine smile of his, “somebody will notice.
Well, aside from feeling a bit queasy (against my better judgment I agreed, and actually
helped him decide between two of the five boats as I wondered if I’d ever be dry again. At least it was a warm day.
Deciding
on the better boat was a simple matter of deducing just how difficult either
would be to bail.
Lee
was happy as a clam for months after, refurbishing ‘Exotic Dancer’. I kid you not, that was her name and woe betide
any sailor who changes a boat’s name. She turned out to be a rather nice little sailboat, which Lee, as usual, gave
away later to the charities he worked with to give down and out kids fun and
responsibility in learning the value of teamwork. ‘Uncle Lee’ was always a big hit with the kids, as
well as the charities as you can imagine.
The
ring of my phone pulled me out of my reverie. It was Agent Catfish. She called to
tell me that my sister would be staying with her a few days.
“And
how does that concern me?” I asked, rather testily, I suppose.
“Harry.
I know things are bad between you right now, but she’s been crying. Did you know that? Won’t you speak with her?”
The
fact that her voice always reminded me of a little girl did not sway me.
“No,
I’m not ready for that yet,” I said, but to my credit at least I didn’t holler.
“I
don’t suppose that I can drop by next week with a few pictures of Seaview’s launch? I can’t fax or email
them. It’s a…copyright thing.”
“And
just why on earth would I want to?” I asked.
“Because
Harry, ”she said gently, “you might be interested seeing some of the crew.”
“I
very greatly doubt it.”
“Oh,
you’d be surprised.”
“Is
there anything else you want to badger me about?” I asked, not ungently.
“We’ll
be flying out next week. Edith’s coming with me. I don’t expect you to be nice to her, but I do expect you to
be nice to me. I hope you understand.”
“I
don’t feel like visitors.”
“Too
bad,” she laughed, “but don’t worry. We won’t be staying with you. Just visiting.”
“I
could request a restraining order,” I said .
“But
you wouldn’t do that. Harry, stop acting like a grouchy old bear. I promise, we won’t stay long. And you’ll
be glad we, or at least that I came. Now , be a good boy and go back to doing your homework.”
And
so I am, writing my journal, first day.
Harriman
Nelson
