Chapter 71

Our digs were situated between two ancient river banks. Most likely former high water river cuts. The downstream dam or spillway was for depth control ... I think. Of the two the high bank was on the river and the flat our house was on was more of a gentle rise than an abrupt edge.

Following the abrupt edge west, we were soon into a wooded area. Crossing that we found a dirt two-track ... with a name ... Lorado Drive. Odd, that.

Continuing west on ... snicker ... Lorado, we passed the East Side Boat Ride ... evidently a going concern ... judging by the full parking lot. Past that was the ZomBNB and the place we came to see. Texas River School.

There were, looking at the University tee shirts, two young men inspecting a dozen or so canoes.

“Hi,” said Alice. “Are you willing to explain just what you do?”

We’re a pair of athletic girls in sportsbras and lycra shorts ... of course they switched from inspecting canoes to inspecting us.

The look between them said, My turn. You had the last one ... my turn. How about you take one and I’ll take the other. You’re on.

“We give classes in boating ... canoeing actually ... and river safety. We have literature in the shack.”

That one was talking to Alice, while the other one, said, “Let me show you the canoes.”

Alice was waiting at the gate when the delivery was made.

“Yup ... right place,” she said. “I’ll take you back.”

The finished Endeavor 14 was a true work of craftsmanship and the lace pattern was infinitely interesting. She had them put the rack and kayak on the deck behind her container. They had to take it through the gate on my side, down the 80 feet of container towards the river, across the back to her side and settled the craft in the rack near her backdoor.

“Gosh, Alice ... that’s beautiful,” I said.

When I spoke, the driver said, “You match your voice. You’re younger than I expected ... but you didn’t disappoint.”

“What?”

He explained, “I probably shouldn’t say but, often, when we get calls from women, we try to picture what the voice promises. Most of the time ... the woman of the voice is three hundred pounds. Your voice was joyous, sultry and erotic. I wasn’t prepared for 19 or 20 ... what?”

“I’m 16 ... and a week.”

“Sixteen? I should introduce you to my kid brother.”

I looked closer ... he’s spent a life on the water, tan, weathered and rugged. If his brother...

“I’m going to be a junior at UT. High school kids disgust me.”

When the crew dropped off the kit I had them put it in the Spad hangar.

“Nice ... Shop?”

“Hanger for my AD ... I have room.”

“AD?”

“AD-2Q ... Korean War era dive bomber. This one is a two seater.”

“Where is it?” Doubting Thomas if I ever saw one.

“On loan to the CAF. They’re doing airshows with it.”

“Why?”

“Why on loan?”

“Yeah.”

“Went to Fiji to visit my dad and mom.” I paused, “And three siblings.”

“Fiji? Flintkote? National Geographic?”

“Yes sir ... that Flintkote.”

“Did you see the sub?”

“No ... I was busy salvaging a Catamaran.”