Chapter 23

Everything was in the cubby, Clean clothes! I need a good scrubbing. I suppose I could wash in the ... no ... salt ... I need fresh water. I grabbed my seabag and the other ... the moneybag. And my purse. I need a trailer for the Farr. And my watch. I stared at it in horror.

I don’t have a watch.

That Bitch!

She Knew!

She knew I was going to run away and she didn’t care! ... What does it take to become an only child. I’ll have to find out.

I know it’s possible to divorce ones parents ... can I divorce my sister?

I know there was steam coming out my ears ... there HAD to be.

But ... first I need a shower ... NOW.

I don’t know if the hotel has a bath ... or hot water. I walked westish on Peninsula Beach road. I took the pedestrian walkway up to Island Terrace. It’s noonish ... I’d slept myself out ... so I looked both ways ... twice.

These folks drive on the left but at sea boats must obey right of way. And sailboats not under power have right of way ... as long as the sailboat isn’t stupid about it. Ships are clumsy and slow to stop.

Island Terrace has a designated bike and pedestrian path on the left. Island Terrace is one street of a six street intersection ... although two of those streets could rightly be called a boulevard. There is a grassy divider between the two Grey streets.

I crossed Magnetic and Mary to reach the west side of Grey. Grey has a sidewalk. Just before Currie, Grey loses the boulevard center divider.

I crossed Currie and continued to George and the Union Co Cafe. George has the bus but I’m stubborn. I’d walked this far ... understand?

The waitress at the Union was friendly. She couldn’t help but notice my seabag ... it was US Navy blue and as tall as I am. I slumped to a chair.

“You’re new,” she wasn’t asking. She was telling.

I nodded, and croaked out, “Coffee ... and whole wheat toast buttered, please and thank you.”

“Seaman?” That was a genuine question. She called in my order and poured a cup at the same time.

“Not exactly.” I said after a sip. “You saved my life,” as the toast slid in front of me.

“Jam?”

“I wouldn’t want to spoil the butter...” A huge bite, “Mmmm.”

“Not exactly? What does that mean?”

“Captain.”

“What ship?” She was looking skeptical.

“65 foot catamaran, out of Pentwater, Michigan ... United States.”

“Here?”

“I abandoned her east coast of North. Argument with my sister.

“Can I get an uncooked hamburger?” I asked. “No bun ... just the meat.”

“What?”

“My cat. He’ll have my ass if I don’t bring him something.”

“I suppose. Where is he.”

And, of course Cat stretched out a pad and tapped her on the leg. She’d have made the olympics if they still had a flat-footed high jump. The screech brought the cook out of the kitchen.

“I need an uncooked burger for my cat.”

“You can’t bring an animal in here,” said the cook.

“Tell him that.” I said.

Cat stalked out from under the table.

“That’s the biggest cat I’ve ever seen.” He looked at me. “You’re her. You own the Bay Hotel.”

Amazing ... Dunedin is a big town with small town gossip ... at least ... Port Chalmers is. I should remember that. Cyn had better watch herself.

“Guilty.”

“You paid my kid a hundred bucks to help clean out an apartment in the hotel.”

“I paid 12 kids to clean it to habitable. Which kid?”