Chapter 11

No ... I got his last name, Post, Corporal ... that off his jacket ... leather jacket ... form fitting leather jacket ... when I stopped looking lower ... Ooo I’d like to unwrap that package.

Captain Kidd called ... we sail Saturday ... in southern Ohio. That means we leave Friday after work.

Mein Kapitän said, authoritatively, “I have to work ... you need to pick Selene up at the airport.”

“How about you bring the boat and Selene and I fly?”

“No airfield ... and I’m not trailering alone.”

Then the kicker, “This is an Invitational ... and it’s cash. Teams from all over the country ... winner takes a hundred grand.”

“‘Twice Around’ it’s called. Manchester, on the river. Look it up.”

I did ... around a big island ... two times. The kicker is it’s also between two islands ... and it’s a river ... with the current and against it. A real bitch of a sail.

He was right ... no airfield.

I called him back ... a doozy of an excuse...

“I have to appear in court.”

“Abby...”

“Yes sir, can’t say I didn’t try.” I acquiesced ... with reluctance. I had paid Tuesday. No escape.

On Friday, I, a welter of indecision, held my last advisiorship, locked up and hopped in my 544. Home, I grabbed my ‘Sail’ gobag, my hanger of wetsuit, had a pee and headed west on Saginaw.

Rush hour... RUSH HOUR ... Friday ... Winter is coming and the rats are leaving the ship. One last hurrah befor cabin fever sets in. I should have driven north to I69 ... and bypassed all of the rush. But, no, I drove west straight out of town ... caught every light, dodged the idiots and DING.

I don’t answer my phone when driving.

DING

DING

DING

I pulled off ... a major achievement ... into Meijer’s parking lot. Three quarters of the escaping rats were before and aft of me ... they were shopping. I was answering ... it might be important ... it’s not... Mein Kapitän.

“WHAT!”

“Got a pen?”

“I’m a professor ... of course I have a pen.”

A list ... I have to pick up the supplies for the drive down and the sail ... FUCKER!

Well ... I AM at Meijer ... I found a place to park and hiked to the store.

I grabbed my cane ... there’s nothing wrong ... but I can con the greeter into giving me a power cart. I have been here before. I know the carts.

“NOT that one!”

‘That one’ has the slowest ‘go’ and the fastest ‘back’ of all the wounded carts in the store ... scared the living outta me first time I got it.