Chapter 5

My alarm went off at 6 AM and as I grumpily headed to the shower, I noticed it was still dark outside. Yuck! Before I hit the shower I tried one more call to Scott, but still no luck. This didn’t alarm me. Not only was he an early riser, but he was also a runner. I think it’s great there are people who want to run and stuff like that. I jokingly tell people I don’t run as a courtesy to others. When folks see me run, they know if I’m running there must be something terrible happening behind me and therefore, they turn and start to run as well. Rather than cause a panic, I do not run.

God knows I should do a bit more to improve my shape, but I’m also cursed with a streak of laziness. Besides, as I often point out, round is a shape. Food tastes so good, and I do enjoy my small, but nourishing Scotch in the evening. I keep telling myself someday ... someday, I should work on making some of my tummy disappear, but I think I’m starting to realize that part of my anatomy will be with me for a while. So far, it hasn’t killed all my chances with the ladies, but I’m sure I’d do a lot better without the love handles. You remember, the procreation thing we discussed?

I headed down to the garage and decided to take my ol’ truck instead of the car. I have a habit of naming cars. I think it goes back to my junior high school days when guys used to give their cars names and then paint the name on the side. At least I don’t paint the names on the side.

Anyway, I have named my truck Faithful Steed, which over time I have shortened to just Faithful. Faithful is a late 80’s Japanese pickup with 194,000 miles on it that still runs great. In the morning it makes a few funny noises, but I keep rationalizing with myself that, as we age, all of us make funny noises in the morning. Someday I will most likely have to do something about it, but after so many miles, we have bonded.

As I pulled Faithful out of the garage, I tried to call Scott again on my cell. He answered on the second ring. His greeting was nauseatingly happy. I growled a little and asked him if he was going to meet me at Slim’s marina. He told me that, as promised, he would be there by eight, and we hung up.

I had about half an hour to kill, so instead of just sitting in Faithful, I pulled over and bought a latte from one of the many coffee stands that seem to pop out of the ground in Seattle. I swear more of them grow every time it rains. And since it does rain a fair amount around here, you can only imagine the abundance of stands on the street. As to what the exact count is, I’m not sure, but it’s close to one stand for every two people living in Seattle, (or was it two stands for every person living in Seattle?).

I took my grande latte and stopped at a grassy area where I could turn Blackjack loose. I’ve mentioned it before, I take BJ with me everywhere I go, when I can. She seems to like going with me, and she doesn’t mind waiting in the truck when she must since she doesn’t have to sit alone at home. I enjoy her company immensely, so it works out well for both of us. Too bad my marriages weren’t as great as my relationship with BJ. I wonder what dark psychological fact that tells people about me?

When I pulled into the marina around 7:55, I saw Scott’s Cad coming from the other direction. Scott drives a little red Cadillac sports car that they stopped building a few years back, and I’ll admit I think it’s very attractive. He wheeled the car in next to mine, and we headed out to the dock to see how and if there was some way for me to shed my new possession.

As we headed down the pier, an older gentleman with white flowing hair stepped out from one of the other houseboats. Since this was a private dock, he stopped and asked us what we wanted.

BJ was a rescue dog. I got her when she was around three years old and somewhere along the way, someone on the male side of humanity had badly abused her. It took me a long time to make friends with her, and because of her mistreatment she tends to bark at most men when she first meets them. If you just ignore her, she will eventually come to you, on her terms. In that regard, I guess animals have it easier than humans. If someone mistreats us, the world teaches us to forgive and forget. But we allow animals to remember, and we even consider it acceptable for them to show that they remember. Truth be told, I’ve met a few people over the years I wished I could still bark at. Anyway, true to form, BJ started dancing and barking at the old fella and wouldn’t stop. Finally, I had to reach down and pick her up to make her stop fussing. Once she was in my arms, I started to explain to the old gent that I was the new owner of the houseboat in slip C-14 ... or at least until I could put my hands on Slim.

The old man’s voice trembled with anger as he spoke, “I’m telling you now,” the white-haired old fella shook his finger at me, “I almost called the police last night on that damn dog of yours. Barking the entire night like that! This is a nice quiet dock, and a good place to live. We will not tolerate noise from any dog, even your dog!” His face was now a picture of total fury. “Do you understand me, young man?”