Chapter 26

The Olsens came back to the Antler. No happy faces there.

Mr Olsen said, “What was for sale in town was either too little or too old or on the south side of the lake.”

That I understood. Too old meant termites and the south side of the lake was almost impossible to insure ... too far for the fire department... ‘haven’t lost a basement, yet.’

And too little meant too small for twins.

Mrs Olsen said, “Oh sure ... there were houses in Hart, Bass Lake and Ludington ... Bass has no access to the big lake ... Hart was inland and Ludington ... well ... it’s Ludington.”

Nope ... had to be Pentwater.

They picked up their twins and discussed the situation.

On the drive back south from Ludington, David asked, “So ... you’re looking for modern ... but BIG?”

Mr Olsen agreed, “Yes ... big.”

“Did you see anything you liked?”

Mrs Olsen said, “One thing.”

“What?”

Mr Olsen said, “We slept in it.”

A light shown. “Tyche’s boat?”

“Yup. It’s almost too big ... but that’s better than too small.”

David said, “Ask her.”

“She’ll never sell ... would she?”

“Bet you can get it for under two and a half. She has too many ‘projects.’”

“Projects?”

“Two and a half?”

“That sailboat cost ... new... 6.8 million ... and change.” David said, “She’ll have four hundred thousand in it by spring launch.”

“She builds racing sailboats ... and sells every one she builds.” David was ticking them off as he named them. “She’s building a Pitts biplane. And the little shit is in high school.”

“Sailboats?”

“Airplane?”

“She’s 11. How can she be in high school?”

Miss Wanna sailboat in the backseat said, “She’s really smart, Mom.”

So ... dinner at The Antler and they bemoaned the dearth of possible properties.

And then David said, “Sell them your lot.” He was looking straight at me.

“My boat...” I never got that finished ... either the statement or the boat.

Mr Olsen said, “A million two for the pair.”

“One and a half,” I said.

“Sold!” said Mrs Olsen.

“Like it sets ... warts and all.” I said.

“Done,” said Pa Olsen and grinned at David, “You said she’d go for it.”

“She doesn’t need a big boat ... she has two and a 48 foot Farr.” “Shake the man’s hand, Tyche.”

We shook spit ... and my headache was gone. Surprise is going to be pissed. She’d have never given me the boat if she had known I was going to make a profit.

And it was just now going into December. I’d owned the boat for three months. Sure ... I’d spent a lot but I wasn’t big enough to do the work. Unca Dave was making money off me.

I was keeping the local economy going. I felt good about that.

The Pitts was advancing. I’d learned a lot building the DR1 ... but what I learned was marginal for a ‘real’ airplane. An acrobatic aircraft is subject to stresses that Airdrome Kits aren’t designed to handle. Airdrome does fine on zero G stunts but a Lomcevak? Nope ... and I wanted those ... and square loops ... and inside loops ... yeah ... I need to finish the Pitts. It’s mostly covering now ... and the engine. Damn ... expensive. Engine cost more than the kit.

Now I don’t have to watch David and the crew redo the interior I’ll have time.