Again?
Copyright© 2016 by Old Man with a Pen
Chapter 5
The bruises will heal. It might take a few weeks. At least, she broke no bones.
After she stopped, I asked her what happened.
"I don't know."
"I was sure you were dead," I said. "I'm ... amazed ... that I'm Sooo glad you're not."
"I wasn't dead," she said. "But I don't know why."
"Tell me," I said.
"When the wheel broke the tie-rod and the A-frame collapsed I thought, 'Shit!' I wasn't expecting the car to bounce over the kerb. The barge was just another problem." She sighed. "Then we were underwater only you weren't there. I was sure I was going to be trapped under the barge. I was glad you weren't there."
"Why?" I wanted something ... but I wasn't sure what.
"Why what?"
"Why were you glad I wasn't there?"
"I didn't want ... I don't know ... If I was dead, you could move on."
"I'm ... I understand ... at the time I didn't want to move on. I'm glad I don't have to."
"Can we talk about something else?"
"They dredged up the car. The propeller cuts passed before and after the seat."
"I noticed."
"I'll bet."
"Then I was out of the car. The prop wash bounced me along the bottom. I saw something shiny and picked it up."
Oh, brother.
"It was this watch." She held it out for my inspection.
A simple gold pocket watch, abet a quality make. French. Revolutionary period. A decimal time, dumb quarter, repeater antique pocket watch by Regnauld a Chaalons ... it was working. I could see the second hand move.
"And?"
"I was in the new canal dig." She looked terrified.
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