Boxed In(49)
“Hi, Annie, Cecil,” Todd said. He nodded toward his boat, idling at the moor and ready for the trip. “We scrubbed her for you, and we’re ready to go.”
Todd was conscientious about keeping his boat properly maintained as a matter of pride, but Annie saw immediately why Ian had warned her not to expect luxury. Lobstermen worked standing up and seats often were considered a waste of space. Todd obviously was one of those who thought so.
“Choose your spot, Annie,” Ian said, waving his arm to indicate the length of the boat. “Anywhere other than at the wheel, of course.”
Annie eyed the different positions she could choose. In one corner stood a tall pair of rubber boots with a pair of hauling pants tucked into the tops, ready for the next morning of work. Annie looked for a position that would offer her a place to hold on once they left the harbor. She settled on the front of the boat close to the dashboard, where a strip of wood had been nailed to keep things from sliding off. Cecil placed himself just behind her left shoulder, while Ian stood next to Todd by the wheel. Todd coaxed the idling motor to a low roar and pulled away from the dock, with Butler’s Lighthouse now in front of them.
Halfway through the harbor, Annie looked behind her for a moment, taking in the vista of Stony Point as it spread up the hill from the water’s edge. The contrast of dark evergreens, autumn colors of the early changing trees, and homes painted various colors from the light gray of Annie’s home to blue and green and red, gave the seaside town a cheerful look of welcome.
“She’d make a perfect cover for a Thanksgiving Day card,” said Ian with what Annie thought of as his “proud mayor” tone.
“Yes, if card companies still make those,” Annie said, turning her gaze forward. “It seems like more and more each year Thanksgiving gets overrun by Halloween and Christmas.” Two laughing gulls wheeled overhead, their distinctive cry communicating derision for that trend.
“The business owners of Stony Point have noticed it, too, Annie. They take pains to not jump the gun on the winter holidays. The Community Thanksgiving Dessert helps give them incentive to create Thanksgiving displays.”
“And all those homemade desserts are something to be thankful for,” Todd inserted, as he expertly navigated the boat through the narrowing passage from harbor to gulf, the lighthouse now looming over them from its cliff-top position.
“Cecil, do you and your family come to the Thanksgiving Dessert, or do they live too far away?” Annie asked. Her new friend had been standing with quiet ease, his body adapting effortlessly to the movement over the water.
“Yes, Annie, we do come. My son Martin and my daughter Nataline live with their families in nearby towns. That’s how I ended up in Stony Point. I’m in between the two. If I had stayed on the reservation, I wouldn’t see them much.”
“Takes a fair pile of pies to feed the Lewey-Bingham crowd,” said Ian. “The ladies love watching their creations being devoured with such zeal.”
“Only the ladies bring the desserts?” Annie asked, mischief lurking in her eyes. “Don’t tell me the mayor of our fine town freeloads on Thanksgiving.”
“Ian goes nuts on Thanksgiving,” said Cecil.
“He means that literally,” Ian informed her. “I am the official roaster of chestnuts. The old-fashioned way, I might add.”
“So you get to play with fire, eh?” said Annie. During the discussion, they had left the waters of the harbor, heading down east. Although the conditions were below “a bit of chop” rating, they were a good deal more turbulent than they had been in the harbor. The boat dipped abruptly while Annie was speaking, and her arms followed instinct, flinging out to find a hold. The “eh” rose in volume and pitch.
Ian moved toward her, but was waved off by an embarrassed Annie. “I’m OK, Ian. Just wasn’t paying attention.” She watched her three companions to see how they stood and moved with the motion of the boat. After a few minutes she got the hang of it and broadened her focus again.
“Cecil, I read some of Grandpa’s vet journals this week,” said Annie, switching gears. “You two had some interesting adventures. My favorite so far is the one about a bull named Milton.”
Cecil laughed. “That animal was a good reminder of why I prefer the sea!”
“I want to hear your gadfly impression that was so effective. Will you humor me?”
Todd nudged Ian. “D’ya remember how the monster nearly pegged us?”
“I remember how I told you not to go in there, but you did anyway,” answered Ian. “What’s this about gadflies?”