Chapter 8

Ken ... from the boat yard watched me put Burt off the boat.

“How did you do that?”

“What? Put the punk off?” I asked.

“Yeah ... all I saw was your hand gripping his shoulder. If you had let go he’d have slaughtered you.”

“If I’d have let go he would have fallen overboard.” I said.

“You’re kidding.”

So ... I reached up and pinched the nerve ... seconds later Ken was begging me to let go ... so I did. He was on his knees and rolling in pain.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! That hurts! I see. You sure you’re only fifteen? Jesus H. Christ, kid. That hurt worse than getting shot!”

And that had the normal result.

After a showing of assorted scars and healed holes I asked, “What did you do in the military?”

“You know what they say.” He replied.

“What?”

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

“You might think that ... I could not possibly say?” I said.

“Yup ... like that,” Ken agreed. “Now ... tell me about the refit.”

For the most part, I was satisfied. No leaks, no poorly running lines, diesel engine was good, genset might be a trifle light and a second set of tools would be good. All in all the boat was better than new ... and quiet under sail. None of the common complaints ... noise ... banging of halyards or the slap of loose whatever. We had had no problems sleeping under autopilot ... although the cockpit was a little drafty.

When I mentioned tools, Ken handed me a set of sockets and wrenches in the most common sizes. Suggestions that the electric could use more power he handed me an invoice for a more powerful unit.

Ken knew what I wasn’t going to like and was ready to fix it. Some times experience is the best teacher. No book would tell me my generator was too small.

“There’s a crew with a new dodger just waiting for a signature.”

I signed.

A week later, ready to cast off, I asked Cyn if she was pleased with the new arrangement. She beamed, moved closer and whispered, “He’s learning. How about you?”

“She’s compatible ... and very nice.”

“You haven’t tapped that yet,” Cyn said.

Embarrassed, I said, “No time ... but we talk. Zo is quite intelligent.”

“What about the shakedown cruise?”

“Nope,” I confessed.

“I Know you’re not a virgin.”

That got a look.

“Girls talk.”

I blushed.

“Remember Katie? Katie said, ‘Never better.’”

“Have I no privacy?”

“Nope ... girls talk.”

“So do guys,” I said.

“You don’t,” Cyn said with confidence.

“A gentleman never tells.” I said.

“Not if he wants to get laid again,” Cyn grinned.

“You talk,” I said.

“If the guy is good.” She gave a thumbs up. “If he’s not?” Thumbs down. “If he talks?” Two thumbs down. “The sluts ... and me ... are the only pussy he gets.” She grinned... “And only one chance ... if the size makes me laugh ... no more rides.”

“What?”

“I’ve seen yours bro, you are no laughing matter.”

“What’s no laughing matter?” Zo asked as she came up the companionway ladder.

Pointing me out with her thumb, Cyn said, “The size of Mr. Studly Junior.”

“Oh ... I know. I can’t hardly wait,” Zo said.

“You’re probably going to have to make the first move,” Cyn opined.