Surprise Melody Flintkote
Copyright© 2018 by Old Man with a Pen
Chapter 9
I believe I will commit the ultimate sin ... come dark ... if they’re not back ... they won’t be back. I am leaving when the music’s over. I’ll turn out the lights and motor home. This party looks dangerous. Not my cuppa tea. Momma told me not to come ... well ... maybe not ... but she was right.
AllGood Orange is tasty ... it’s not Orange Crush. But, then again, nothing is. I used to die for Grape Crush. Until I almost did. That was an eye opener.
“Melody, you are not immortal.”
“Get out of the way, Surprise. I needa puke.” And I did.
“Miss Two.”
<Yes.>
“Whyoncha materialize and keep me company?”
<I’d rather go to the party.>
“Am I stopping you?”
<Seven is.>
“Seven is at the party.”
<Ooh ... tricky tricky wench.>
“Go wow ‘em with that impossible red hair.”
“You’ll be OK?”
“I have my bo.”
There was a shimmer and that red violet haired wench hailed a passing dinghy.
Hair magnet!
And those gravity defying tits. I wish mine ... Oh ... wait! They already are!
I have mom’s treasure chest.
When the sun began to settle behind the hills I lost interest in the foibles of teens and their mating dance. I got a comforter from the salon and curled up.
I have my favorite book ... well ... construction plans ... Farr 3.7. I have my ruler and conversion tables ... Farr drew in feet and inches. New Zealand uses that perfidious French system ... METRIC ... O dark thirty came, the music was louder and more frenzied ... almost African ... disturbing.
I was fairly deep into the plans when I felt the deck bobble. Instantly my attention switched. I turned the cockpit lighting from reading to shining out.
That bobble came from the bow and a legitimate guest would have knocked on the hull and used the stern swim ladder. A swimmer would have dripped and there was no drip. Someone boarded from a dinghy or other mode of dry transportation. I had heard no motor. Someone aboard had evil intent. Cyn has set me up.
Forty- eight feet is a long way to go when you are trying to creep.
I slipped over the stern and swam to the bow. Sure enough ... an inflatable ... but black. Most dinghies are variations of white and they have registration numbers. This one had a huge outboard ... far and away from the typical going ashore boat. And no numbers. Hmm.
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.