Chapter 29

With Surprise auditing, we built Alice a boat to end all boats. It was exactly on weight ... exactly on length ... and the yacht club was trying to fail the boat.

The first official race of the season the wench WON. Her first 3.7 race ... and that is saying a lot.

She beat ME!

She beat Auntie mom.

Alice qualified for the Fall Princessapality 3.7 Farr Worlds ... the Ultimate 3.7 Race ... her first time out.

Can you say swelled head?

She was insufferable. Until...

The second race she came in LAST.

I gloat. I preen. I strut.

I almost lost a bestie ... and I didn’t win ... I just came in ahead of her.

Auntie mom won ... I was third ... but ... there were forty four entrants and the Weatherman lied ... again.

The weather was forecasted to be perfect ... it wasn’t.

He said Sunny ... it rained.

He predicted Light winds... 20 mph ... gusting to 35.

The forecast was Warm ... it was in the Forties.

Forty four started ... ten finished.

There were broken masts, torn sails, lost rudders, bent daggerboards.

Alice was the first one out ... she hit the starting line can buoy and opened a seam.

>>>>>>>... <<<<<<<

I’ll bet I hadn’t mentioned my new used watch.

I turned 12.

Momentous occasion.

“Isn’t this supposed to go to one of the triplets?”

“Freely given, Tyche. Freely given.”

Surprise said, “When they find out about the watch ... those girls are going to be Sooooo mad at Cynthiamae.

“Worry about that when they’re 11... 9 years from now.”

“Nine years ... where do you think they’ll be in 9 years?”

“Lessee ... McWilliams ... Scotland ... or at the very least ... in the Commonwealth.”

“Still sailing?”

“Probably ... they won’t quit sailing until it’s time for university...” Surprise said, “And they’ll be someplace near water summers.”

She changed the subject. “I see you’ve begun.” She glanced at my chest.

“Yes ... and I don’t wanna grow up!”

“It’s inevitable.” She said, “Look at Alice.”

Alice had ‘blossomed’ during the past year. At 13 she was walnuts ... at 14 she was grapefruit halves and the envy of every girl in the eighth grade ... and the lustful dreams of boys from 12 to 80 and beyond.

I’m going to look like that. Thanks gramma. Thanks a bunch.

Or ... maybe not. Mom ... real mom ... wasn’t ‘abundant’ ... maybe...

Surprise Flintkote and Cynthiamae McWilliams are supposed to look like clones of the infamous Sultry Wench Flintkote ... and Auntie mom is a looker.

One more year of high school.

I’ve already been accepted by twenty two Universities.

So many choices ... so little time.