cubby, she said, “They’re marked on the map.” GG gave me a squeeze. “I’ll see you both in five days.”
We trailed her footsteps to the deck. “Where? How will we find you?”
Hopping off and onto the dock, she said, “Edmond and I will meet you at the Shakespeare Theatre.” She reached in her pocket and fanned tickets. Handing me two, she said, “See you at Twelfth Night .” Then with her foot, she gave the front of the boat a solid shove.
NOTE TO SELF
It’s official; my grandmother put the C in Crazy. No wonder she drives my dad insane. I now have a better understanding of his uber-conservatism—rebellion.
CHAPTER 10
L ocks a nd W eirs
A chill rose from the black pools of water that rippled along the side of the boat. It only took a few minutes to lose sight of Oakley Court. I’d been tempted to idle near the opposite shore and watch the chaos of the disgruntled Rocky Horror Picture Show crowd, but I was glad we didn’t dawdle. Even as we rounded a bend, two torch beams from the hotel property were already sweeping the opposite shore.
“This is not right,” Travis said.
In the quiet, the motor puttered along and I sympathized with his summation of the situation. Thankfully, the cabin was low and didn’t block my sight when I steered from the back. The vessel stretched out as long as a station wagon and to be honest, it intimidated me. “Do you want to drive?” I asked from the rear cockpit.
He sniped a curt, “No.”
Hugging the shore just far enough not to run aground, I cruised along shadows that guided me just out of reach of the brambles and branches from the berm’s shoulder. “Warn me if I’m going to hit something.”
There was no answer. I knew that game well enough not to push, but as the silent treatment ticked from minutes to a half an hour, I became peeved. It wasn’t like I’d planned this surprise excursion.
Both shorelines were visible under the starry sky. I concentrated on the right side, mostly undeveloped and sparsely dotted with docks, outlines of homes, and a couple of closed restaurants with outdoor seating.
“What the hell are we doing?” he mumbled from the cabin below.
My emotional bucket had been drained. Travis wasn’t the only one in freak-out mode. My teeth chattered and I wasn’t happy that I’d been assigned captain. “Boating on the River Thames.”
Low beam headlights reflected the bleakness we were gliding through. Motoring the craft at a crawl, I tried to get a feel for night navigation. Luckily I didn’t have to deal with traffic since we were the only numbnuts cruising the river.
Travis moved to the steps below me and sat. Tucking his knees under his arms he began to laugh. It was contagious.
“What’s so funny?”
His arms fanned wide. “This.”
“Driving a barge on the Thames?” I giggled.
His eyes closed as his chuckle gained conviction. “Your family has a funny idea of a summer vacation.”
“I know, right?”
I’d told him, more than once, that ever since my mother left my father for her psychic-tryst, my family had gone certifiably bonkers. He’d mostly shrugged my assertions off, figuring I was venting smoke about the split of my parents, but now he had first-hand experience.
“What kind of grandmother hands her granddaughter keys to a boat, in the middle of a midnight raid, and says, ‘Try not to hit anything. See you in five days?’”
Our laughter subsided. A cold mist trapped foggy air pockets that settled onto the water. One long day had rolled into the next. Inside my throbbing head, my throat constricted, and I blinked back tears that threatened to break my fragile mental state.
Travis’s chortle lost its momentum. Tipping onto his back, he covered his face with his palms. From beneath his hands, he said, “Rachael, your grandmother is mixed up in something.”
I gagged on an oversized reality pill. “Maybe.”
“The probability is more than a maybe. She said she
We trailed her footsteps to the deck. “Where? How will we find you?”
Hopping off and onto the dock, she said, “Edmond and I will meet you at the Shakespeare Theatre.” She reached in her pocket and fanned tickets. Handing me two, she said, “See you at Twelfth Night .” Then with her foot, she gave the front of the boat a solid shove.
NOTE TO SELF
It’s official; my grandmother put the C in Crazy. No wonder she drives my dad insane. I now have a better understanding of his uber-conservatism—rebellion.
CHAPTER 10
L ocks a nd W eirs
A chill rose from the black pools of water that rippled along the side of the boat. It only took a few minutes to lose sight of Oakley Court. I’d been tempted to idle near the opposite shore and watch the chaos of the disgruntled Rocky Horror Picture Show crowd, but I was glad we didn’t dawdle. Even as we rounded a bend, two torch beams from the hotel property were already sweeping the opposite shore.
“This is not right,” Travis said.
In the quiet, the motor puttered along and I sympathized with his summation of the situation. Thankfully, the cabin was low and didn’t block my sight when I steered from the back. The vessel stretched out as long as a station wagon and to be honest, it intimidated me. “Do you want to drive?” I asked from the rear cockpit.
He sniped a curt, “No.”
Hugging the shore just far enough not to run aground, I cruised along shadows that guided me just out of reach of the brambles and branches from the berm’s shoulder. “Warn me if I’m going to hit something.”
There was no answer. I knew that game well enough not to push, but as the silent treatment ticked from minutes to a half an hour, I became peeved. It wasn’t like I’d planned this surprise excursion.
Both shorelines were visible under the starry sky. I concentrated on the right side, mostly undeveloped and sparsely dotted with docks, outlines of homes, and a couple of closed restaurants with outdoor seating.
“What the hell are we doing?” he mumbled from the cabin below.
My emotional bucket had been drained. Travis wasn’t the only one in freak-out mode. My teeth chattered and I wasn’t happy that I’d been assigned captain. “Boating on the River Thames.”
Low beam headlights reflected the bleakness we were gliding through. Motoring the craft at a crawl, I tried to get a feel for night navigation. Luckily I didn’t have to deal with traffic since we were the only numbnuts cruising the river.
Travis moved to the steps below me and sat. Tucking his knees under his arms he began to laugh. It was contagious.
“What’s so funny?”
His arms fanned wide. “This.”
“Driving a barge on the Thames?” I giggled.
His eyes closed as his chuckle gained conviction. “Your family has a funny idea of a summer vacation.”
“I know, right?”
I’d told him, more than once, that ever since my mother left my father for her psychic-tryst, my family had gone certifiably bonkers. He’d mostly shrugged my assertions off, figuring I was venting smoke about the split of my parents, but now he had first-hand experience.
“What kind of grandmother hands her granddaughter keys to a boat, in the middle of a midnight raid, and says, ‘Try not to hit anything. See you in five days?’”
Our laughter subsided. A cold mist trapped foggy air pockets that settled onto the water. One long day had rolled into the next. Inside my throbbing head, my throat constricted, and I blinked back tears that threatened to break my fragile mental state.
Travis’s chortle lost its momentum. Tipping onto his back, he covered his face with his palms. From beneath his hands, he said, “Rachael, your grandmother is mixed up in something.”
I gagged on an oversized reality pill. “Maybe.”
“The probability is more than a maybe. She said she
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