Chapter 3

Watching Geordie Mac Douggle and Hineahuone Te Wherowhero sidestep each other was fun. Grace put up a countdown clock. It was one of those that had flip numbers ... she had put it in storage because it started running backwards.

Grace remembered it from her time as an Austin. She chased it down, wound it up and set it for Hineahuone's birthday. Those clocks aren't quiet ... click ... click ... click ... counting down the seconds until F day. Click ... click ... click. It was very unfair.

You could see the tension build.

Click ... click ... click ... the numbers fall and fall and fall.

Click ... click ... click.

Click ... click ... click.

Geordie spent time with Rosie Palmer and her five daughters and Hineahuone laid out on the deck and teased.

Click ... click ... click.

Click ... click ... click.

Grace and I were running south as fast as contrary winds would take us ... watch and watch. Geordie and Hineahuone were completely wasted as relief wheelmen.

Click ... click ... click.

Click ... click ... click.

Norfolk Island. We had to have water and pump sewage ... a little diesel wouldn't hurt.

Click ... click ... click.

The pair of them ran ashore and came out with new bedding, a tent, food, cook gear and a towing dinghy with a little five horse outboard.

Click ... click ... click.

"Philip Island," said Hineahuone.

Click ... click ... click.

Click ... click ... click.

"Go go go, " said Geordie.

Click ... click ... click.

Click ... click ... click.

There's a Naturalist hut on Philip ... some times fishermen use it but it belongs to the Royal Australian Navy. Geordie pulled some heavy strings and reserved it for five days. It's not far ... we motored to the volcanic core and the pair of them bailed into the dinghy with all their gear...

Click ... click ... click.

Click ... click ... click.

"Catch!" Grace yelled as she tossed the countdown clock. Hineahuone fielded it like a Detroit Tiger center fielder. Better even ... she didn't drop it.

We were so used to hearing the clock ... we could hear it in our heads ... Click ... click ... click.

Click ... click ... click.

They raced for the cove, unloaded the boat and ran for the hut ... Click ... Click ... RING!! Hineahuone started shedding clothes as she hit the door of the hut ... Geordie right behind her.

"She's been in love with him since she was eight," Grace said.

"He's been in love with her since she was eight," I said.

"I hope he doesn't disappoint." Grace said.

"Her mother has been teaching Geordie about women's places since Hineahuone turned 13," I said. I fired up the diesel, circled the core and headed back to Kingston Island.

"Where do you think we're going?" Grace asked.

"I rented a beach house for a week ... we're going to do what they're doing ... only in a bed with a real mattress."

"Oh ... you think so, buster?"

"Yup,"

"You better do a good job, buddy. I am so glad we died."

"Me too. I know the guilt would have killed us."

"Think about it ... it did." Grace said.

She was right ... if we hadn't died in the train wreck ... I think the only reason we consummated our love was because we knew we weren't getting out alive. The surprise was the Andersons. Who ever was pulling strings waited for the perfect fit before switching us. I imagine there were thousands of possibles in the four years between the train and the Price Road wrecks.

I have a fairly good reason for believing the string pullers aren't the Second Chance Unit of the Bureau of Reclamation, a branch of Nine Lives Institute, a governmental front for a black ops section; Grace is with me.

I had always come back alone.

Thinking back to my death in Vietnam ... the ambush of our ambush was perfect ... they knew we were coming. They knew where we would be. No one made it back.