Chapter 17

The willows: It’s northern western lower Michigan ... willow is the local replacement for cattail. The damn things are ubiquitous. Where there is fresh water ... willow shall be found.

So I cut some.

Yes ... Surprise trusts me with a knife ... and I keep it sharp.

The willow trick is Unca Dave’s ... he is the Sawmill Marina’s factotum ... and Anderson’s Salvage’s salvor ... except ... when they rescued the charter boat ... Unca Dave used fishing rods instead of willows ... I didn’t have fishing rods and the willows were handy.

‘Go with what you’ve got.’

The reason I used the willows? Because Auntie Surprise wanted me do go over the side and find the leak. Ain’t happening. It’s the middle of October ... it’s Pentwater and it’s fuck oh dear cold.

BUT ... if I hadn’t found the whirlpool ... I’d have dove in.

Surprise operates with the idea that what doesn’t kill me makes me stronger ... and kids get over trauma quicker than adults ... hence ... the willows.

I got over the willows a lot faster than I would have gotten over swimming in Pentwater Lake in late October.

It wasn’t over ... the ordeal. I still had to slosh around in the mechanical space and find the broken pipe ... and guess what ... Yup ... there was a wood plug wired to the pipe ... I bashed the plug in the broken thru-hull with the hammer I found on the bench. The bench under the broken pipe.

“Tyche?”

“Mom?”

“Get your monster boat to the Marina and have Dave haul it.”

“Yes, mom.” And then it hit me, “Wait! MY boat?”

“Yes,” Surprise said.

“Why is it MY boat?”

“I wrote your name on the title.”

“Pretty sneaky, mom. Pretty sneaky.”

“I’ve got to get the Basilisk to the marina and get her hauled out so you better hurry. I’m leaving the pump ... just in case.”

Unca Dave is at work and it’s not far. I’d be soaking wet from the storm anyway ... I hoofed it.

Through the office door and past the wicked witch at the desk. I didn’t give her a chance to stop me ... she tried. But...

“Tyche Selene Flintkote! You come back here this instant!”

All I heard was Tyche Selene and I let the shop door slam.

“UNCA DAVE! I need you!” I hollered.

From the far corner I heard...

“WHAT?”

Except that should have been in number 8 font and muffled. The “Tyche” and “Selene” he shouted was very plain...

So was the, “Employees Only!”

He shouted that too.

I didn’t care.

“I need my new sailboat rescued.” I shouted.

Foot steps and there he was ... tall and dreamy ... and wiping his greasy hands on a towel.

“New boat? Wait ... don’t tell me. The monster at the city docks.”

“Gee, Unca Dave ... that was quick.”

“Yours, huh.” A statement ... not a question.

“Yup,” ... and I explained ... willows, tee shirt and garbage bag.

“Surprise supplied the trash pump?”

“Yessir.” I said. “I need her hauled and you have the ramp and the lift.”

“One hundred and twenty five bucks,” he said.

“Deal!”

“Let’s go see.”

“You’re gonna need your tug. The engines were fully submerged.”

“Oh.”

“I may have underbid.”

“Probably.”