Chapter 15: A Change of Plans

Tim awoke finding Emma's spot vacant. He was usually a light sleeper but he didn't notice her climbing over him that morning.

"Emma!"

No answer.

"EMMA! he shouted.

"Up here, darling. I'm standing at the bow."

He pulled on some shorts and ran up the stairs. She looked like she did when he found her looking out the picture window back in Long Island after the night they first made love. She had been wearing his shirt and a pair of panties. This morning he found her still nude from the night before. When he reached her side, she turned and smiled.

"Look darling, fish flying from our wake."

"That's why they call them flying fish," he chortled. "You'll be seeing them from here to the end of our journey. All the oceans are full of them."

"I always thought they were a myth until this morning. I came up here to check the wheel and I saw them flying in all directions. I came to the bow to get a better look at them."

"They're real all right. I'd better check to see if we caught some tide to carry us off course," he went back. "By the way, sweetheart you look ravishing right now, but better put something on. I don't want to nurse my sweetie with a sunburn, or sun stroke or something else. We have a long way to go and are just getting started."

"Putting something on is an easy thing to do," she walked by him. Emma expected and received a playful smack on her ass.

"We didn't drift too far," he said, entering their room as she pulled a tight top with long sleeves. It was a horizontal lines of blue and white. She also put on long loose white pants and a pair of flip flops. "You look yummy this morning."

"You said that before," she smiled.

"A beautiful woman such as you can't get enough compliments."

"You can't eat me until you eat breakfast," she produced two bowls, a box of raisin bran and milk. She poured his bowl almost to the top and only hers to half full. She put a small amount of milk on hers while he almost flooded his bowl. Emma loved raisin bran but a half bowl filled her for hours. Emma never put sugar on her cereal. Tim sprinkled a tablespoon all over this.

"Are you out of range from San Diego?"

"For the radio, yes. Not our cell phones."

"For the radio it is the ionosphere, right?"

"Gee you're smart," he laughed.

She gave him a playful slap on his arm. "Smarty pants."

They chatted while they ate. Mostly how beautiful the day was and the need to swab the deck even though it looked like it didn't need it. Emma would swing the mop while Tim planned to lift the sails and try to take advantage of the wind. The Manhattan Emma needed to make good time. They had enough fresh water for thirty days plus he didn't want to use any of the thousand gallon fuel tank unless if was absolutely necessary.

Penny Singleton was easily the most attractive fourteen year old girl at Brown Brook School for Girls in Vermont. Her long blonde was in a ponytail which fell to her back. Her blue eyes gleamed brightly as she sat at her desk doodling. She wore the typical school girl uniform of a burgundy blazer with Brook's insignia sewn over her heart, a white cotton short sleeved blouse, a gray woolen skirt, knee length white socks with black and white two toned shoes. She sat with one foot underneath her and the other on the floor.

"Ms. Singleton," Mr. Chase, her history teacher called her out of her daydream. "Are you with us today?"

"Yes sir," she replied in a very soft feminine voice.

"Are you following this lesson we are discussing?"

"Yes sir."

"Tell me the names of the first three Soviet leaders, if you may?"

"Lenin, Stalin, and Malenkov," she replied.

"Who was the first leader of the secret police in the Soviet Union?"

"It was Anton Chekov," Penny answered.

"Let me see what you are doodling, please," he walked up to her desk. Mr. Chase could not help but notice her sitting on her folded up leg. And the fact that she had her skirt riding up to her upper thigh. She handed him her pad. 'Penny +?'.

"Who is the question mark?" Chase asked.

"That is the million dollar question, sir," Penny beamed, knowing he had his eyes on her well proportioned thigh and not on her notebook pad. His mouth turned crooked as she shifted a little so her skirt inched up to show the lace of her yellow silky panties.

"Very good, Ms. Singleton," he returned the notebook pad and walked to the front.

Penny giggled to herself knowing that Anton Chekov was an author and that the real head of the NKVD being Felix Dzerzhinsky. It was nepotism that got this man his job, not his intellectual status. Her leg had fallen asleep so she shifted her foot to the floor so the circulation would be back by the time the bell rang in two minutes.

"Hey not bad," Tim said, reading it off her laptop.

"It an unedited rough draft," Emma sat in his lap, closing the lid. "I'll let your read the first chapter when it is finished, cleaned up, and ready to send to the publisher."

"Penny Singleton! I heard that name before but I can't recall who she is."

"Do you remember the Blondie movies in the late thirties to the late forties. She was the wife of Dagwood?"

"Yeah! I recall that. There was one television station that carried their movies almost every day."

"I used her name as a fictional character. Aren't I clever?" Emma kissed the tip of his nose.

"Look at the sunset," he pointed out.

Pulling down her sunglasses, she turned to look. "It is very lovely," she answered. "Did you enjoy your dinner?"

"Grilled cheese with tomato rice soup? It's one of my favorites."

"Fibber," she turned back to him. "Oh! By the way, I've put the portable potty in our room in that corner where you put a bungee cord. I tied it down there with a roll of toilet paper within reach. That way we won't waste water when we flush. You or me can dump it over the side each morning if you like."

"Good idea. I have some urinal soap flakes that'll mask the smell."

"Are we allowed to dump that overboard?"

"With as little as we go, I don't think it will harm the environment. Feel free to dump," he grinned.

"That's a man's job. The woman cleans and cooks. Males are supposed to do the rest," she leaned and licked the side of his thick neck. "Want to go to our room?"

"I think if we wait fifteen minutes we can make love up here. It won't be completely dark but it will be romantic."

Emma placed a blanket and pillow in the middle of the deck. The gentle swaying of the vessel would be ideal for making love. She undressed, folding each item neatly then weighed down with her togs. Tim came from below with two glasses of fruity white wine.