Timepiece
Chapter 33

Copyright© 2015 by Old Man with a Pen

You make plans, plotting, figuring, finally ... you’re done ... ready to go ... and some goofy old lady ... well, you know.

Talking to the chief of the house removal crew:

“Yeah. She traded us the house if we’d get rid of anything left after 7pm, Saturday. Our women showed up at one minute after Seven and striped the possibles. We worked ‘til Oh Dark Thirty last night and started at can see this morning. By can’t see tonight we should be done. Sorry you missed out.”

“Possibles?” questioned Wendy.

“Anything of possible value,” he said.

The house, the big Log house, was, piece by numbered piece, going in the back of a myriad of pickups, log trucks, dump trucks, skidders and floats. The trucks were all marked with business variations of Little River Indian Nation.

Little River is about 35 miles north of Pentwater and the “Reservation” is up that-a-way. It’s NOT really a Rez ... but they do have a Casino. All these teardown and removal people are residents of that locality.

The house, probably worth a couple of million, was going to be a school dorm for a college of Native American Studies.

“Our young men and women have lost the old way,” the old men are rumored to have said, “We’ll help them find it.”

Since the garage sale was dead, I said, “Wanna go look at my new old boat?”

Since Wendy was a local, she knew a short-cut.

What could it hurt?

The sale was twenty miles out of town ... the boat was in Charlevoix. Charlevoix is a few miles ... a “fair piece up the road” ... north of Little River.

Ah ... you know the term ... a “fair piece up the road” ... so you know that it means, “of indeterminate distance” and could be anything less than a days drive ... at 90 mph.

Charlevoix is the next decent harbor north of Traverse City ... Little River is a Pentwater type of harbor.

But Wendy knew a short-cut.

Our meander yesterday took us about 15 miles north and five or so miles east of P-water and going back to town ... which I wanted to do ... was deemed a typical male idea ... and therefore ... stupid ... was stupid. We headed north.

I shall not reveal the route ... it included a motel for a night ... but eventually we discovered the headwaters of the Nile and loped into East Jordan on two flat tires.

Because the Lakes have been losing water for the last 26 years several local marinas have docks but no water. That is the condition of MY dock and boathouse. Nice pier. Nice boathouse. Nice boat. Dearth of H2O. This is a job for DredgeMan.

 
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