Chapter 16

I, taking up cudgels, said... “you only look older ... but I was five when you were born.”

“Shit!” said Seven, “I do so hate it when you are right.”

Very noticeably, and with a wet finger, I chalked up a point in mid air...

... followed by a fist pump ... and a silent but noticeable “YES!”

Remember ... I’m 10.

Surprise said, “She’s got you there.” She sighed. “Hi, Seven.”

“Hi, Mom.”

“Ooo ... mom ... okay, you want something,” Surprise said, “What?”

“Who is Daddy?”

“John Beavers.”

“Who? She asked.

“John Beavers,” Surprise said. “It’s an old West Virginia name.”

“Beavers?”

“Yup,” Surprise agreed.

“Where’s he from?”

“Beavers Bottom, West Virginia,” and before Seven could ask... “About 25 miles from Frogmorton. Virginia ... north of Grundy.”

“A hick from the sticks?” Seven said, “Mom? How could you?”

“Easy ... I was drunk. First time for both, too.” Surprise said, “What I want to know is how you moved a tropical island to the Sea of Azov.”

“You’ll have to discuss that with the gods.” Seven said, “We’re scientists.”

That was a flat out statement.

And a bald-faced lie.

I was paying attention. Oh, I know ... nobody expects a high school freshman to pay attention to anything an adult says ... but ... and there is always a but ... it’s one of Murphy’s Laws ... so I said, “If you’re only scientists, where are the gods?”

Seven said, “You always were an inquisitive brat.” She gave a look that was like a bigger older sister would look if I had one. I didn’t ... all I had was her ... and JW’s and Mom’s five year old triplets. Seven just looked old ... she wasn’t ... but everybody who knew her thought she was.

“I don’t know where the gods are ... or where they hang out,” Seven said.

“Well,” Surprise said, “You are the closest thing we’ve got ... Tag ... you are it.”

And just about then, the local constabulary ... both of them ... came in and said, “We’ve got a situation. Surprise, don’t you have a diesel trash pump?”

“On the boat. Why?”

“Sailboat at the city dock is in danger of sinking ... thru-hull with no shutoff broke. They’ve just come in ahead of the storm...”

The whole bar, said, “What storm?”

And the windows rattled.

“That storm,” spoke the cop.

“Well ... SHIT!” exclaimed most of the bar. Weatherman was wrong ... again. The storm wasn’t forecasted for the rest of the week.

“Where’s your boat?” The cop was looking right at Surprise when he said it.

“Still at my dock ... at the house. Frank! We need your pickup!”

“Keys are in it, Surprise.” Small town.. Nobody locks up.

During the offseason, Frank always takes up the Owners spot ... in front of the fire hydrant. If the fire whistle blows Frank or Ernie moves it out of the way. It’s a volunteer department... ‘Never lost a basement, yet’ bunch of locals. They haven’t caught the Antler truck blocking the hydrant ... probably because the fire-station is across the street ... catty-corner south though.

“Need a hand?” asked the cop.

“Yeah ... it’s a four inch and heavy. Load up. Come on, Tyche.”

“But ... my rootbeer! Yes mom.” I know that look.

The cop was strong ... good thing. The pump weighs 230 pounds (104kg) 60,000GPH (227,000LPH) and it’s in a locker in the stern. Usually ... the times it’s been needed ... Surprise lifts it with the boom.

The two of them picked it out and onto the pickup in far less time than hoisting it.

When we got to the dock ... there was nobody on board ... and no sign of them ... just a signed title. The dinghy was gone.

Oh ... sailboat ... Aluminum two masted schooner about 125 feet long ... two million bucks worth of boat.

It was easy to see where the leak was. There was a whirlpool sucking water port side. I remembered David’s trick ... cut a couple willows and shucked outta my teeshirt ... grabbed a couple of plastic shopping bags and stuck the whole shooting match along the hull where the leak was. That stopped the leak.

The trash pump took about two hours to pump out the hull.