Chapter 27

"You have to stay here." Here being the Alden 66.

"I need to go to work." Work was the Vanderbilt Chicago boat.

"No ... you need to stay here."

"I need to go to work."

"Let me check your pulse."

I held out my hand ... the cuffs went click ... the other end went around a ringbolt secure station. (They're all over the boat ... a place to hook lines to during a storm so the thing hooked doesn't roll around.)

She looked a look of pity..."The next time I tell you, you have to stay here, what are you going to do?"

"Stay here?" That got me such a look... "Ok, Ok ... I get it ... Stay here."

Sally looked at Grace ... Grace nodded. There was a handshake ... more of a basketball knuckle bump ... but I got the picture.

"There's a bed side urinal ... sandwiches on the bed ... water. It would have been better if you had agreed to stay put on your own ... you could shit in the head ... now ... if you have to go..." Sally faded that sentence perfectly as the pair of women walked off the boat.

I didn't have to go before she said that ... now? I'm in trouble. I hollered out the port, "I'll be good!"

"We'll see," said Grace ... but they kept walking. Pretty quick I could hear the Lyman utility fire up and leave.

"SHIT!!" I was pissed. "GOD-DAMN-IT-ALL-TO-HELL! BITCH!!!"

TAP TAP TAP. Someone was knocking on the hull.

"WHAT!!"

"Schuberg ... can I board?"

Fuck ... now I'm all embarrassed. "Yes," I called.

Mr. Schuberg has the motor yacht next to our sail yacht. I heard him open the salon door.

"Good morning, David."

"Mr. Schuberg ... I apologize for my ill manners. I am truly sorry for my outburst. I hope I didn't offend your wife."

"Ethyl has heard worse. Grace came to visit last night. I understand you are in the kennel."

"With my parents ... yes."

"Who is that most attractive boat guest?"

Well I wanted to say... 'The patsy, ' but I couldn't. "A possible wife."

"You're too young to marry..." He gave it a minute of thought, reached a conclusion and said, "Too young for our time ... however, Torah? I'd say you were just about ripe. Care to talk about it?"

"Mr. Schuberg,"

"Joseph, please."

"Mr. Schuberg ... there's no possible way I could be so impolite as to call someone so much my elder by his given name."

"Well raised, polite ... let me demonstrate the benefits of calling me by my named name." He held out the keys to the handcuff, shook them just out of reach.

"She thinks of everything." 'Damn it all to hell.'

"Your sister is a very smart girl. I wonder how many stones she will bring me tonight?"

"What makes you, Joseph, think she will bring more?"

He laid a finger aside of his nose and said, "I know where they came from."

I was shocked. Speechless, even.

"Ah, I surprised you ... I know the man to whom they used to belong."

"Do tell."

"Corny had that boat built as a safe place to hide the bulk of his wealth from the taxman. The one hundred five million distributed among his heirs was a small part of his Actual wealth. Many years after Corny died my father told me of the boat. I was sure it had sunk."

"Nope ... actually ... the boat is why we're here ... do you suppose I could get you to unlock..." I shook the cuffs.

"I guess."

"I need to go."

"Go?"

"To the bathroom."

"Ah ... now I see why she gave me the keys, your sister," he let out a chortle, "That one, she is sly."

Just about the middle of 'sly, ' I finally reacted to the past day. The air turned green ... maybe not the air ... but the two people IN the air did.

"Oh..." he tossed me the keys and went out on deck.

"You and I have to stay together," Grace told Sally, "Don't forget."

They passed the end of the breakwater and headed for the lock. The Lyman was truly a utility boat. A white painted lapstrake seventeen with a four cylinder Volvo. Most boats that size are boy's toys ... the Lyman was a real workboat

"I won't. I'm really sorry about this." Sally was contrite but there Was an enormous irony to it. "So ... David is your brother."

"Twins ... but we have separate birthdays ... May 8th and 9th." Grace responded to the look, "1942."

Sally did the math in her head..."13?"

"14 ... just." Grace laughed, "Fourteen years, two months, seven days."

"He's so big..."

"He is that ... last year ... he wasn't. I could look him straight in the eye."

"You're what? Five feet one?"

"Thanks ... on my tip toes." Grace giggled, "I tell people I'm five one. But I'm not."

"He grew a foot in a year?"

"No ... in a little more than a month. The collision at White Lake may have stunted his growth."

The recollection of the contact caused Sally to wince, "That has got to hurt..." Removing herself from the past she admired her companion, "You're 14 and you and I have the same size," She cupped her hands in front of her chest. "How do you feel about them?"

"They itch ... they're tender, sore ... the tips get hard for no other reason than I see a good-looking guy. I wear a brand new bra and it's too small two days later. Last year I had walnuts ... this year?" Grace fumed, "Men are such pigs. Last year I was a little girl ... this year I seem to be the target of every testosterone driven male. How do you stand it?"

"You have no idea how pretty you are, do you?"

"Me? You are made of the things that men admire ... I'm just a kid. I have freckles, my legs don't look good ... I'm out of proportion to my height ... my feet are tiny ... my hair is this mess ... my nose looks like a ski jump ... my neck is too long ... and I'm too damned smart."