Chapter 60

I had a number of requests ... mostly on the line of ‘hook up?’ But there were a couple of adults who requested ‘dinner and a movie.’ But there was one who recognized Surprise standing with me ... added two and two and said, “You sail.”

“Yes.” Let’s just see where this leads.

“I have a Lightning at Lake Lansing ... there is a Regatta this weekend and my crew have to work. I give you a standing invitation to sail as crew for the rest of the season. Do you know anyone who would make a third?”

A Lightning is a one design 19 foot sailboat that must have a crew of three.

“I would love to crew. Hold on ... Abby!”

She ditched the two frat rats who were ‘chatting her up,’ “Yes?”

“Wanna go sailing next weekend?”

He recognized her ... Abby was the youngest faculty member at MSU. Her doctorate was in Kinesiology. She held several core patents for artificial limbs. The military loved her.

“You know I don’t know how to sail,” she said gruffly ... with a huff.

I turned to the sailboat owner...”Do you have time for a familiarization run? Tomorrow?”

I could tell he wanted Surprise ... he wasn’t going to get her ... he was lucky to get me. My boats were in Texas and I did have an itch.

I whispered in her ear, “It’ll get you away from the fratboys.”

She grinned, “Sure.”

I turned to him. “Let’s go,” I said.

“Where?”

“All my gear is in Pentwater or Austin ... I need wet gear.”

“Where?”

“Cabalas ... where else?”

Lansing has several.

Abby loved it.

“They have guns!”

“Yes ... Oh ... New Zealand ... No guns?”

“No personal handguns. Rifles and shotguns with a police permit.”

“Ah,” I said.

“I want one.”

“One?”

“A handgun.”

“Go see,” I said.

“Okay,” Abby said.

There was a wait. She’s cute, built and happy.

“May I help you?” said the young man.

“I want to buy a handgun.”

“Your accent makes you out of country. 21?”

“20.”

“No,” he said.

I noticed. “Junior.”

That created a little stir.

“What?”

“Abby wants a handgun.”

She walked to the counter.

“Hi Abby,” she said.

“Your Royal Highness,” Abby curtsied as she said it. Junior hates it ... the fuss ... unless she’s proving a point.

The counter personnel snapped to.

“None of that ... which gun did you want?”

“I don’t know anything about them ... New Zealand.”

“Help her out,” Junior commanded the counter staff.

I bought wet gear ... Abby and I are of a size ... so I bought matching. I spent a lot of money. Bunches and bunches. Best foul weather gear they had ... and off-shore safety gear. EPIRB’s and beacons. If we didn’t starve to death we’d still be alive a week after an overboard.

Abby came back smelling of gunpowder and Hoppe’s No 9. She had a surprised look on her face. The counter guys were posting her target. 17 shots in the X ring.

“Abby...?”

“They showed me what to do ... So I did.”

“What did you buy?”

“A Glock 35 ... and a 27.”

“That’s quite the grouping?”

“That’s the left hand ... the right hand was tighter.”