Chapter 124

After I spoke to Osborn I was no longer in the 'man hungry' mood. I drove back to the barge in the candy colored pickup truck. The truck made it into the parking lot but was moving at a crawl. It was also rattling and shuddering. About a second later a very a large cloud of steam rise from under the hood. It was after midnight, so I just kicked hell out of a tire and went inside. I plopped my ass down on the bed. I removed my clothes and fell asleep.

Well I did go to the bathroom in my panties and tee shirt. Then I fell asleep. Life is a bitch when you have a female bladder. Even after going before bedtime I would still be in the bathroom again, at least once, before 6AM.

At 6AM there wasn't much I could do about the truck so I took the trike out to the airstrip. When I opened the garage, I found the riding mower where I had left it. I checked before I hooked the canary to it and it would not start. Why it wouldn't I had no idea. There were so many things that would cause it, I just said to myself screw it.

I put in a call to EZ's small engine man. "Sylvia what is now?" he asked.

"The riding mower I use to tow the plane from the hanger won't start. I need you to stop by and work on it for me." I said. He caught the frustration in my voice.

"Is that all," he said laughing.

"My fucking truck is on the verge of seizing as well. This is just one screwed up day." I said.

"Well the mower probably isn't as bad as your truck. Go home call your friend EZ to tow it to a repair shop. I wish I could say take to my place, but I don't work on cars and trucks," he said.

"You do what you do very well, so just stay with it. Call when you finish then come by the marina and I'll pay you," I said.

I had planned to deliver a present in the plane, but I could do it in the Honda. When I got back to the Barge I found some odds and ends in the shed I was pretty sure I had seen earlier. For one things Wilson and I had a small tool kit. Neither of us pretending to know shit about repairing a car or our barge but some times we needed to hang a picture or tighten a screw. From the tiny tool kit I took what would have been called a tack hammer by the old men. I also found a half used box if aluminum roofing nails a half inch long. I thought that would be perfect.

"Wilson are you going to bring the Honda back today?" I asked his voice mail.

Then I called EZ. "Hey EZ, I know it's early but I need you to pick up my truck for me. It's broke, I think," I said.

Nothing was going to happen for at least an hour, so I got on the bicycle and rode it into town for breakfast/brunch. I hate that word it sounds so pretentious. Mr.BJ's was anything but pretentious. It was in need of an oil change on the walls, but the food was exceptional. I ate my biscuit with sweat iced tea chaser on one of his stone tables. Using concrete picnic table might not be the most clean looking thing, but it sure cut down on thefts. I mean one of them had to weight at least three hundred pounds.

Once back at the barge I took a shower and waited for something to happen. First EZ showed up. He quickly loaded up the truck and left for a repair garage he knew. He was gently flirting with me again. He had gotten over being hurt that I thought he might be a rapist. Not only didn't it bother him, he seemed to decide that it played into his bad boy persona. He must have thought that was a good thing, because all seemed to have been forgiven, not that I cared.

About an hour later Wilson came home. "You are going to have to take your car, if you go anywhere. I have to make a trip," I said to him. He nodded as though it was no big deal. "Oh yeah the truck is in the shop."

I caught Mel alone. I'm headed for the swamp, do you want to go?" I asked.

"There is nothing for me there. Andrew is rehab. He wouldn't want to see me, even if he was there." she said sounding more sad than angry.

"Okay well I'll be back late, if I get back at all tonight," I explained to Wilson as I went out the door.

It was a three hour drive the way I drove. The purpose for the trip cast a pale over the otherwise pleasant drive. Wilson kept the Honda immaculate so it was a pleasure to get it dirty. I have no idea why I took a perverse pleasure in making his life just a little for difficult than necessary. Probably because I envy his ability to live without the Rush. I had a lot of thoughts running through my head during that drive. They helped to distract me. If I had dwelled on my own loss, I might have gone mad.

It was after 4PM when I pulled into the parking lot by the dinning hall and administration building. I went through the door to the dinning room. I carried what the old men called a tack hammer and two aluminum 1/2" roofing nails. I didn't say a word to anyone and no one said a word to me. I went to the a wooden post in the dead center of the dinning hall. I used my hammer and nail to attach the medallion I had made on the laser engraver. The engraving showed a picture of Dog wet and frazzled but alert. You could sense that he was sniffing the air. There was no caption on the medallion. If you needed a caption, you wouldn't get it anyway. It had the name Liam Logan around the circular edge. It also had scalloped cut edges.