Croot
Where are you staying, then?
Me
Boat.
Croot
Is your heater working?
Me
Negatory.
Croot
Get your shit and get back here, then.
Me
Gonna go with negatory again.
Croot
That wasn’t a question, Wee-Waters.
I only told you to get out of my face. You didn’t have to move out.
Me
All I’m going to do is just fuck more shit up for you, man. Just drop it, alright?
Thanks for letting me stay there for as long as you did. I really am sorry.
On my apology, he leaves me on "read," and I eventually take his silence as resignation. Marcus, Caleb, and I make it back to the marina, and drop off our catch at the lobster pound. As tired as I am, I still have work to do on the boat to get it ready for the shorter day tomorrow, but in the spirit of Christmas, I send them on their way so I can go about it by myself.
Hours later, I plod across the bay to the other marina, where my houseboat is docked. I grin when I see the donut is gone, hoping that it was Gulligan who snatched it up, but one can never be sure when there are this many seagulls so close to the water’s edge. I duck down the stairs, and when I flip on the generator and light, I see that I’ve beenrobbed.
Or rather—even worse, judging by the clattering in the bathroom—I’m interrupting a burglary in progress…
Scanning my surroundings for anything I can potentially use as a weapon, I snatch a knife from the block on the kitchenette counter, and get into a fighting stance. “I’d drop whatever you think you’re going to be stealing, and come out of there with your hands where I can see them,” I say, trying to sound as menacingas possible.
I hear a faint chuckling from behind the shut pocket door. “Yeah, because I’m going to pawn this used stick of deodorant and hit the jackpot…”
Wait—what the fuck?!
“Evan?!”
The pocket door slides open, and my big brother cackles at the sight of me. “The fuck you gonna do with that? Saw me into chum with asteaknife?”
I lower my weapon, scowling at him. “You can’t commandeer the boat with your husband again, if that’s what you’re here for…”
“No, dumbass,” Evan scoffs. “Went to Portside to look for you, and Gordy said you were staying here. I’m packing up your shit so I can take you to Mom and Dad’s. You can’t stay on this thing; it’s fuckin’ colder than a yeti’s taint down here.”
“I’m not going back home. I’mfinehere. I’ve got blankets.”
“I’ve got half a mind to let you fuck around and find out, just like that time when a lobster nearly lopped off your finger, but even I know that staying down here with no heat is a recipe for hypothermia.”
