Chapter 25

The clerk who issued the license noticed David’s canes ... and his limp.

“Mr. Austin ... may I call you a cab?”

“We came by boat. The Chief is waiting at the Underground monument.”

“He can’t park there...”

“Navy Search and Rescue boat ... the 95 foot Coast Guard Cape Class Cutter.”

“They retired all the Cape Cutters.”

“Yes ... or donated them to various friendly countries ... The Navy ended up with this one.” Something new. ‘How did I know the Cape’s were disbursed ... and how did she...?’

“Oh. Hobby of mine ... the Coast Guard.” “ If you’ll give me just a moment ... Charles?”

“Yes, Mrs?” A deep basso-profondo voice answered.

“Mr. Austin needs a ride. Bring your chair. He could use a lift.”

A little clatter and a wheel squeak on tile, and an excellent wheelchair, powered by an excellent gentleman wheeled up behind Daddy...

Quite surprised, he sat.

“Where to?” Charles asked. He wasn’t asking Daddy ... he was asking the clerk.

The clerk said, “The Riverwalk by the Underground Memorial. Mr. Austin came by boat.”

That, in itself ... was unusual ... most disabled called ahead and were whisked away from the parking garage and delivered to their Wayne County Services building destination.

It was a political plum.

The position was given to a winning politician and blessed on an active supporter or campaign worker. Charles was paid three times the wage of an auto worker ... and there were the ‘gratuities.’ Charles was ‘well-off.’

Not that the situation was explained ... Genevieve looked it up in the County Directory ... later.

The ride was appreciated, daddy was on his last legs. Autumn was whistling down the streets. Still warm in the sun but cold in the shadow of tall buildings, the little party was glad for the sun.

Winter beckoned.

“That’s quite the boat,” Charles said.

“Grosse Ile,” Daddy explained.

Chief Roberts had been looking and came out on deck to assist David and Bethanne aboard. Genevieve fended for herself. Gen huffed ... just a little.

“Hey, Charles,” Chief Roberts said.

“Chief Roberts, how they hanging?”

“Left and low,” was the reply.

It was evident they knew each-other.

David laughed, Bethanne blushed, Gen had no idea.

Discovery came later ... the seventh and eighth grade girls.

Chief Roberts waved Gen to the ‘bridge.’

“Evolutions for leaving port, Recruit.”

“Aye-aye, Chief.”

While Chief Roberts and Charles caught up with their lives, Gen ‘fired-up’ the ‘machinery spaces’ fans and ‘singled up’ the lines. That done she started the diesels and checked the cooling water discharge. She approached the Chief and stood until he nodded to her.

“Did you stick the tanks and log the readings?”

“On it, Chief.”

“Deck hand?” Charles asked.

“Owner’s daughter,” he replied.

Laughter

“Girlie’s doing much better than I expected.”

Charles and the Chief turned to watch.

She sticked the tanks ... found the log and logged the result.

Chief was astonished.

“I didn’t teach her that.”

“Smart cookie,” said Charles.

“Not where she can hear. Recruit?”

“Chief?”

“How much fuel did the boat use getting here?”

“Thirty-seven gallons, Chief. Twenty-five miles one way. Fifty miles round trip. The engines use 4.3 gallons, each, an hour at 12 knots. Two hours ... thirty-seven gallons. The stick agreed.”

“You did the math?”

“Seemed logical, Chief. I figured we did better coming home ... with the current.”

Satisfied ... mostly ... he shifted attention back to the matter at hand ... Charles.

“Good to see you Chuck ... fishing Friday?”

“Stony Island wrecks, again?”

“It’s where we catch fish.”

“You got that right ... see you. 7AM?”

A nod, they fist bumped and Charles wheeled his chair away.

In passing he shouted, “Your turn.”

“Yeah yeah. Strohs?”

A nod, a wave and gone.

“Recruit!”