Chapter 51

Leaving St. Augustine meant having to come up with a new destination. I chose Sanford, which meant I needed to cruise north to the mouth of the St. John's River, then south to Sanford, near Orlando. I figured I had bought all those theme park passes; I might as well use them and see what I could see. There were several marinas that looked promising, and I called until I found one with the appropriate size slip to lease for a month. The best things about the marina were and the covered slips, and the café that served breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The BETH ANN would be out of the sun for at least a month.

It was a short run up to Jacksonville, where the St. John's empties into the ocean. There are only a handful of rivers that run north, and the St. John's is one. The sightseeing was spectacular. Mansions dotted both sides of the Intercostal, and I was sitting up high and able to enjoy them all. The binoculars I bought at Bass Pro Shop, back in Springfield, Missouri, certainly got a workout, as I rubber necked my way up the coast.

It hit me, as I navigated to the St. John's, that I hadn't passed a single home that I couldn't afford to buy. My first instinct was to stop and buy one. It would be interesting to see if I could learn to be content in my own house. My next thought was that I should pass on the idea at least until I finished my riverboat tour of America. I set out to see the country by water, and I was enjoying the freedom, lack of responsibility, and ever changing scenery. The secondary benefit was if the neighbors get on my nerves I could pick up a couple of lines and go somewhere else. One doesn't have to call the realtor to change slips.

By the time I was out of the Intercostal and cruising the St. John's, I had had a long day. It was pretty easy to find a marina, grab a good meal, and turn in. However, my neighbors at the marina were having a party. It seems that some college football team had beaten their archrival and scored a bowl game. Apparently, that was enough incentive to hold a month-long yacht party near Jacksonville, where their favorite team would play their bowl game.

I was never much of a sports fan and certainly not in this body. When I was invited for the festivities, I accepted and enjoyed visiting but didn't offer much in the way of bright conversation on the topic of college football.

Two rather excitable and buxom young women took me under their wing and into their hearts, panties, and beds. It was strictly in the interest of research on the topic of college sports that I put up with such aggressive behavior.

The tall one – Kelly – had a peculiar habit of announcing her sexual escapades as if she were a sports reporter. I found it jarring to be referred to as "the gorgeous hunk of meat" and "that sensational walking tongue." I may have a nice tongue, but hearing myself referred to as one was unsettling. It was so unsettling that I could only come in her twice, before moving on to contestant number two - Candace.

Number Two was significantly more pliable, in better physical shape, and had a greater desire to please than contestant number one. Candace loved to sixty-nine. She had the gift of oral sex, and I loved finding a woman that gave as much as she got, no matter how much I gave her.

We wore each other out. When I woke up with her lying across my chest in the tiny stateroom of the owner's yacht, I knew I had been out sucked, and it felt great.

The evening's activities had all those aboard the yacht indisposed come morning. When I backed out of my slip, no one came on deck to bid me farewell - which was pretty much becoming the story of my life.

Traveling down to Sanford was wonderful. I stopped a few times to eat and buy fuel, had the tanks pumped, and got the boat washed. When I tied up at Blackwater Inn in Astor, I had a lovely lunch and met a wonderful family.

After lunch, I had to choose between a steady forty-five mile jaunt down to Sanford or taking my time and arriving the next day. It had become my policy never to hurry on this trip. The whole point was to enjoy the trip, see the scenery, and experience it all without placing pressure on myself to be here or get there.

After lunch at Blackwater, I was standing at the end of their courtesy dock when I heard a young child's voice. "Mommy," she said, "I really wish I could go for a boat ride. It looks like so much fun." Her sweet voice and obvious longing made me turn around and offer them a ride.

The little one was in a wheel chair. She couldn't have been forty pounds, and life had clearly been cruel. Her mother looked exhausted, probably from taking care of her little girl twenty-four seven. My heart just went out to them both, and I approached carefully, not wanting to frighten anyone away.

"Hey," I said, hands in my pockets, and showing them a sincere smile. "I heard you ask your mommy about taking a boat ride, and I just happen to have a boat here. So – if it's Ok with your mom, I would be happy to give you both a ride, right now." The little one smiled, and my heart broke all over again. Her face transformed, but her mouth was so misshapen she couldn't form a smile. Whatever her problems, they were awful.

Her mother looked me over for a long time. I stood patiently waiting for her to respond. The little one wasn't nearly as patient. She pestered her mother to let her go on a boat ride.

It was clear this lady wasn't used to strangers walking up and offering to help he child live out a wish. She looked me over once more and said, "Hi. I'm Sherrie Parker. My daughter with the big mouth is Jennifer, and where is this boat you want to take us on?"

"Hi back at you. I'm Brain Morse, and you are welcome to go for a ride on my houseboat, the BETH ANN, which is right there." I pointed at my baby in the last slip, dwarfing everything else at the dock.

Sherrie's mouth dropped open and she said, "That's yours? It's HUGE!"

"Thanks," I said. "I'm on an extended trip, trying to see how many of America's rivers I can cruise, and I would love to give this charming lady and you, of course, a ride on her. However, I would ask how long you have to cruise, where your daughter would like to go, and if we could include a stop for dessert somewhere before we return so you can disembark?

"I am quite partial to an afternoon cheesecake break and feel that one will be calling me within the next two hours, if not before."

Jennifer giggled, which about broke my heart. "Mommy, he's silly," she said.

Sherrie looked at the expression on her daughter's face, checked me out – again- then looked at the BETH ANN before answering. "We are visiting here. My father lives near Astor, and I wanted to get Jennifer out of the house for a few hours while the weather is nice, so we came here for lunch.

"Dessert sounds like a plan to me, but Jennifer doesn't like dessert. She only eats vegetables, you know." That got a snort from Jennifer, and she would've taken it up with her mother, if Sherrie hadn't cut her off at the pass. "I know you love cake, baby. If the nice man really means it, we'll go for a boat ride and try to find somewhere to get you your cake." Looking at me, she said,

"How soon do you want to go? Are you on a tight schedule? Is this too big an inconvenience for you? We understand if you have to get going."

"It's not inconvenient. I booked a slip down in Sanford, which is just north of Orlando. It's prepaid, and I'll get there when I get there. As for cake, well - you know - who doesn't like cake? Right Jennifer?"

She giggled again, and I saw her little face suddenly close down. Sherrie was on it like a flash of lightning. "Baby? What hurts? Tell Mommy. What is it, Darling?"

I could just hear her breathing heavily. She looked at her mother and kept taking deep breaths until whatever it was passed. My heart went out to this poor child. I wanted to buy her a boat and hire a crew on standby, just in case she felt like a boat ride on any day.

Jennifer's spell seemed to pass, and Sherrie looked at her watch and asked, "Would it be all right to call my dad and let him know what's happening, before we go? That will give me time to take her to the ladies room, just in case, you know?"

"You do anything you need to do for this angel. If your dad wants to go, tell him we'll wait until he can get here and take him with us." That seemed to give her a shot of confidence, and I realized how big a chance a she was taking in trusting me - a woman alone with a disabled child, out on a boat, away from people.

She smiled when I asked her to invite her dad. "Ohhhh. He'll like that. He used to have a couple boats but had to get rid of them when he and my mother started to get sick. We'll be right back," and she wheeled Jennifer in the direction of the restaurant.

I kicked the engines on and let them idle while Sherrie took care of Jennifer's needs. The winter sun was warm, but the air wasn't hot. It was just perfect, and my mind wandered. Beth Ann would have loved this boat. The way she loved our houseboat back in Branson, this would have thrilled her.

I let myself imagine sex with Beth Ann on the king bed or sitting together at night, naked, in the hot tub, watching people walk by just a few feet away. That would have revved her up, and later the sex would have been amazing. The memories and fantasies entertained me while I waited.

I looked up and saw Sherrie pushing Jennifer back towards the boat and ran down to assist. The dockside pass through door opened plenty wide for a wheel chair, so that wasn't a problem. The wheel chair weighed next to nothing, and Jennifer's added weight wasn't much more than a bag of the water softener salt I lugged to the boat in Kentucky.

It was nothing to lift her aboard, chair and all, and then reach for Sherrie's hand and steady her as she hopped on. I looked back towards the parking lot, and Sherrie said, "My father is ecstatic about your offer of a ride. His house is on the river about five, or so miles south. If you don't mind, we can pick him up on his dock." I assured her that was a great plan. I carried Jennifer up to the fly bridge and settled her in front of the helm, so she would have a great view. Then I cast off.

The River wasn't crowded. We didn't see another boat before I shimmied into the dock that Sherrie pointed out, where a very well dressed, older man waited, waving. Just as the BETH ANN kissed his dock, the man opened the gate and hopped onto the deck like he'd done it before. He was surprisingly spry. Sherrie's description led me to think he was somewhat of an invalid.

He climbed the stairs, entered the screened room, and shouted, "Jennifer? Is this your new fiancé? He looks like a great catch. How did you reel him in so fast? I knew you were gorgeous, but so is he!" He laughed, she giggled, and Sherrie smiled like a sunrise. These three had a special relationship.