Maybe It's Just Me, But Aren't Napkins Getting Thinner?

 Maybe it's just me, and usually it is, but aren't the restaurant napkins getting thinner? 

I remember the day when you used to be able to pull one out of a napkin holder, clean off your silverware, blow your nose, fold it, put it in your back pocket, use it for a week, leave it in your pants, run it through the wash, and it was clean and ready to go for a while. Yeah, for sure, those days are gone.

I used to let 'em collect in the glove compartment. When the gas station ran out of paper towels for cleaning off the window and the dipstick after checking the oil, they worked fine.

Those ole greasy hamburger joints used stick 'em in the bottom of the bag. They'd not only soak up all the grease, but they could still be used to wipe the ketchup off your best shirt.

You'd think with all the paper that's being saved on account of nobody reading newspapers and glossy magazines anymore, that there'd be enough trees to go around, so they make the napkins just a little thicker.

Next thing ya know, they'll be complaining about overforestation and wonder why. 

The Double-Cross In Paradise; Episode 44, A Tricky Little Device That Goes Boom!

This is episode forty-four in the sixth novel of The Troy Adventure Series. It is titled The Double-Cross in Paradise. Here are the links to  The Double-Cross In Paradise: paperback, Kindle. 

A Tricky Little Device That Goes Boom!

Sage hunched over the workbench in the tight space of the engine room. He was skillful and crafty with tools. He worked fast and with precision. 

After an hour and a half, he crafted a strange-looking device. It looked like a miniature toy wooden horse with no neck or head, but a body with four legs. An empty beer can given to him by Makani became the body. The top and bottom of the can were cut out. The four legs were about a foot long and made from bar stock.

Sage brought the device to the pilothouse.

“I hope you have something,” Trace said. “That boat is heading toward us.”

Sage set the device on the chart desk.

“You want to tell me how it works?” Trace said.

Sage pointed at the legs. “Notice the legs are metal and sharp at the end. If the boat is wood, the legs can be forced into the wooden bottom. It only has to stay put for a couple of minutes at most. If it’s metal,” Sage placed a magnet on the chart desk, the size of a pack of cigarettes, “place the magnet on the hull of the boat, turn the feet away from the boat, and the magnet will keep the device attached to the boat. The grenade is placed inside the can with the pin pulled. The arm is restrained by the sides of the can. It won’t blow up. A wire is attached to the grenade. When the wire is pulled, the grenade comes out, and the arm is released, setting off the fuse. The fuse is set for four or five seconds. Another wire is attached to the grenade to keep it from falling too far. It will explode about two feet from the haul. Do you understand how it works?”

“I got it,” Trace said. “I’m the only one who knows how to scuba, so it will be up to me to plant the device, right?”

“You are so clever,” Sage joked. “Being so clever, you will have to figure out the logistics.”

“If it is one of Franks’ people, we will know that,” Trace said and continued. “They will be heading toward us. I’ll slip into the scuba gear. You will be at the wheel. Keep them about fifty yards away. There’s going to be some negotiations using a bullhorn or their system. Negotiate with them. I’ll swim underwater to their boat. Go beneath them and attach the device. I don’t know how long of a wire you’ll give me…”

Sage interrupted, “Fifty feet.” 

Trace continued, “Can you make it a hundred?”

“Sure,” Sage said.

“Okay. When I get a hundred feet, I pull the wire. Have Makani or Tom toss me a line and reel me in. But as soon as I grab the line, go full speed ahead.”

“We leave them there?” Sage asked.

“Presumably they’ve been properly instructed in all phases of dangers at sea and will be able to successfully handle the situation effectively,” Trace said sarcastically. 

“What do you think the chances are of pulling this off?” Sage asked. 

“What do you think?” Trace flipped Sage on the arm and grinned.

“Those guys don’t stand a chance,” Sage said. “We have the element of surprise and a foolproof tactic.”

“It’s so dark right now. I don’t think they’ll ever find us.”

Trace checked the heading. He glanced at a faint flash of light off the port side. He opened the window and peered into the dark sea. He turned his head to listen.

“What is it?” Sage asked.

“I saw a flash,” Trace said. “Did you see it?”

“I thought I saw something, but I thought it came from below.”

Tom hurried alongside the pilothouse and came in the back door.

“A light flashed over us,” Tom said excitedly. “Then I heard something. It sounded like a slow motor.”

“Geez,” Sage said, “We’re looking in the wrong direction. They’re behind us.”

Trace turned. The trawler crept aft. A spotlight from the side of its pilothouse flashed on, nearly blinding Trace, Sage, and Tom.”

The trawler sped along the port side.

A muffled voice from the trawler's speakers called out. “Drop you sails. Drop your sails immediately.”

Thanks, A Quarter Of A Million, From The Jittery Goat

Tuesday, March 3rd, 2026, this site reached a milestone of sorts. It had its 250,000th visit. 

This site was started in May of 2015. However, in the last two years, it has had nearly 145,000 visits. During the last two years, there have been at least three posts a week. 

I have little clue how that compares with comparable sites. Few folks clamor for a site featuring short stories and serialized novels. 

Before May of 2015, this site was hosted by WordPress. My time with that platform was about four or five years. The number of visits during that period was about 150,000. 

I decided to convert from WordPress to Blogger for several reasons. Pricing was one reason. WordPress, depending on what package was purchased, was at least ten times more expensive. Of course, there were many more features available, but I didn't need them. Blogger had just what I wanted: a barebones approach, yet providing enough options to make a site unique. 

Upon reflection, the one thing I miss about WordPress is the community of other writers that you become a part of. The feedback from them was valuable, and I enjoyed visiting their sites as well. 

Anyway, I just thought I'd take a few moments to express my thanks to those who visit my site. I hope you enjoy the stories. I enjoy writing them for you. 

Warmest regards,

Byron Lehman

The Double Cross In Paradise; Episode 43, Preparing To Repel All Boarders

This is episode forty-three in the sixth novel of The Troy Adventure Series. It is titled The Double-Cross in Paradise. Here are the links to  The Double-Cross In Paradise: paperback, Kindle. 

Preparing To Repel All Boarders

Trace and Kelsey began constructing a plausible story. They informed Sage, Makani, and Tom. Franks and Paul were kept in the dark. They were certain that Franks would contradict portions of Trace’s and Kelsey’s story, but they had alibis and explanations that would prove otherwise.

Shortly after sunset, and only a faint purple glow of the day remained on the western horizon, Tom cupped his hands around his mouth and called to the pilothouse. “There’s a flickering light starboard!”

Trace lunged to the starboard side of the pilothouse. He squinted, peering through the window. He reached back and grabbed the binoculars from a hook on the chart desk. He brought them to his eyes.

He grabbed the mic and stretched it to the starboard side. He pressed the button on the mic as he looked through the binoculars. “There’s a vessel starboard. It’s a trawler. It’s moving parallel to us. If they’re looking for us, they haven’t seen us yet.”

Trace returned to the wheel and flipped off the deck light. 

He put the mic to his mouth again. “Pull the shades and curtains on all portholes and only a night light.’

He hung the mic and turned to Kelsey. “Take Sage’s place and send him up. And have Makani bring me a coffee.”

Kelsey went below.

Sage climbed up the companionway. “What’s up, Trace?”

“I sent Kelsey below because I don’t think he could come up with an idea,” Trace said.

“What do you mean?”

“He’s law enforcement,” Trace said. “I’ve been trained the same way he has when it comes to conflicts at sea; you give in. It’s not worth the risk. I don’t like being beat, bested, or boarded. You, my friend, will come up with something.”

“For what?”

“I almost forgot, if that boat is some of Franks’ associates, I’d like to keep them and the boat away from us. We can’t outmaneuver or outrun them.”

“So you need an unconventional approach,” Sage said. “Ain’t that usually your department?”

“If that boat is one of Frank’s cohorts,” Trace said, “if they spot us, we may not have much time.”

“They’ll want Franks and his kid, right? If we give them over, would that be a bad thing?” Sage reasoned. “It’s temporary. They’ll eventually get caught.”

“That all sounds possible,” Trace replied, “but what if they want retribution. The drug business thrives on making examples of those who oppose it. I think if we turn over Franks and Paul, that won’t be the end of it. They’ll want to send a strong message.”

“Okay,” Sage said, “I can buy that. And I think you’re more right than wrong. Yep, we have to prepare for that because that’s who they are.”

“In whatever scenario, Franks and Paul are a bargaining chip, a delay tactic,” Trace said. 

“What are we delaying for?” Sage asked.

“The Australian Navy will be here in the morning.”

Makani brought a thermos of coffee.

“Thanks, Makani,” Trace said. 

“No problem,” Makani said. “What’s up?”

“I spotted a Trawler a few miles away,” Sage said. “We’re preparing for it to be somebody who’s looking for us. We’re trying to come up with a plan.”

“We hope to have a plane,” Sage said and clicked his cheek. He rubbed his chin. “I hate to tell you this, but I held on to a couple of grenades from the Flint Island escapade. I was going to hold on to them until I got back home. I had a project in  mind.”

“Well,” Trace said, “that’s a start. But I’m not into blowing people apart.”

“As am I,” Sage said.

“Can we use them to dissuade or disable them?” Trace said.

“That will be tricky,” Sage said. “We may have to prepare ourselves for the worst-case scenario.”

“An extreme resolution may be the only thing that can save our own lives and those of our friends,” Trace said.

“I guess that says it all,” Sage said. “And on that happy note, I have an idea.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“You can scuba dive, and you have the gear, right?” Sage asked.

“It’s stored forward,” Trace said. “The last time I used it was six months ago. It was in good working order then.”

“When my dad was in Korea, during the war, he learned a nifty little trick with a grenade,” Sage raised his eyebrows.”

“Watch the wheel for me,” Trace said. “I’m going forward to check out the scuba gear.”

Trace went forward and checked out the scuba gear. It was in good condition. He returned to the pilothouse.

“The gear is fine,” Trace said.

Sage gave up the captain’s chair to Trace.

“I’m going into the engine room,” Sage said. “I have to rig something up. I’ll grab a can of beer. My dad said they are perfect.”

“I’ll get it,” Makani said.

“I’ll get it,” Sage said. “There’s one on the counter inside the galley.”

Makani dashed for the companionway. “No problem. I get.”

Near

Near 

“How much I wanted to become someone else,” Todd said. “Something better than what I am. It’s just that every now and then I look in the mirror. It just never changes.”

“It does,” Martha said.

“No,” Todd said. “I’m the same person I was the first time I looked in the mirror and didn’t like what I saw. There was deceit, selfishness, scheming, and ugliness.”

“I don’t see how you could feel that way about yourself,” Martha said.

“If you have been with me as long as I have been with me, you’d know,” Todd said.

“Many artists see only the flaws in their own work,” Martha said. “Yet they see the beauty in the work and talent of others, and those others see only the flaws in their own work. Could it not be the same with you?”

“I would just like to be somebody else,” Todd said, exasperated. 

“Then what would I do?” Martha said. 

“What do you mean?” Todd said.

“It is you that I have grown to love,” Martha said. “Yes, when we first met, you were deceitful, selfish, and you schemed, but you were never ugly.”

“Were you that desperate that you had to go for someone of little character?” Todd said.

“I would have never loved that man,” Martha said. “I saw you make changes, and when I saw a complete transformation, I swooped in and snatched you away before someone else did.”

Todd patted Martha on the hand. “Thank you, dear. What can I do for you?”

“Nothing,” Martha said. “But when the time comes, I know you’ll be there for me. Above all, Todd, that is the best of you; you are always near.”

The Double-Cross In Paradise; Episode 42, What's Next?

This is episode forty-two in the sixth novel of The Troy Adventure Series. It is titled The Double-Cross in Paradise. Here are the links to  The Double-Cross In Paradise: paperback, Kindle.

What's Next? 

Kelsey would tap for a few minutes and rest. He kept the headsets on and lifted one off when talking with Trace. Sage kept watch over Franks and Paul. Patterson stood on deck watching for airplanes or fast-moving boats coming in their direction. 

Hours passed. The sea and the winds were normal. Makani prepared sandwiches for everyone so they would not have to leave their posts. 

Trace turned The Tramp Islander southwest. 

Kelsey raised his eyebrows, waiting for an explanation.

“I’m taking a direct heading toward Brisbane,” Trace said.

Trace watched the horizon and looked at Kelsey. Kelsey’s face was dull, and his eyes blinked slowly.

“Grab the wheel for a while,” Trace said. 

“Are you sure?” Kelsey said.

“Just keep the heading where it's at,” Trace said. “I’m going to take over the key for a while. I’m not as good as you are, but you need a break.”

Trace sat at the chart desk, and Kelsey sat at the wheel.

Trace snapped on the headsets and tested the key. Then he started sending. “Wow,” Trace said. “Let’s switch back. I’m getting something. You should handle this.”

They switched positions. Kelsey began writing down code and sending.

“Who is it?” Trace asked.

Kelsey ignored him and continued sending and receiving.

After a few minutes, Kelsey slid one earpiece behind his ear. “I’ve reached a RAN vessel,” he said.

“RAN?” Trace questioned.

“Royal Australian Navy,” Kelsey said. “I’ve given them information so they can verify me as an officer of the law. I informed them of our situation. That gives priority to verify us.”

“Can they help us?” Trace asked. 

“Things like this can work incredibly slow,” Kelsey said. “We could be in Brisbane drinking beer before there’s an answer.”

“I didn’t know Aussie could be so formal,” Trace said.

“The whole country ‘as gone to hell in a hand basket if you ask me,” Kelsey said. “They’ve gone soft. They forgot what made them a good country: sweat, grit, and straight whiskey.”

“Sounds deep,” Trace said.

“My younger brother,” Kelsey said. “A real sissy, drinks lattes and cappuccinos.”

“They’re not bad,” Trace said.

“It’s the way he drinks them, and the way he describes the experience. It’s not an experience. The experience is what you’re doing and who you’re with. Only fruitcakes sound like that. He’s not a fruitcake. I guess you’d call him cultured and refined.”

Trace appeared puzzled, and Kelsey noticed it.

“Why am I telling you this?” Kelsey said. “It represents everything that’s going on in society. Two brothers takin’ two different forks in the road. What about you, you have a brother?”

“No,” Trace said, “I’m an only child. My mom was killed in a car accident when I was young, and Dad never remarried. Sagre is the closest thing I’ll ever have in a brother, maybe closer.”

Kelsey jerked and snapped on the earphones. “I’ve got something.”

Fifteen minutes of tapping and jotting on paper followed.

Kelsey stopped sending and pulled off the headphones.

“What’s up?” Trace asked.

“I gave them our course and heading,” Kelsey said. “They expect we can rendezvous sometime after sunup tomorrow.”

“What will happen then?” Trace asked.

“They will take Franks, the kid, and me off your hands.”

“That’s great for you, Franks, and the kid,” Trace said, “but we’re still going to be hunted. A score has to be settled.”

“Without Franks and the kid, they have no interest in you,” Kelsey said. 

“And how will they know Franks and his kid are on an Australian naval vessel, six o’clock news?” Trace said, sarcastically.

“It’s the best we can do?” Kelsey offered a pathetic smile.

“It’s not the best,” Trace said sharply.

“What would you have us do?” Kelsey said.

“A small deployment, two or three men—armed,” Trace said. “That’s what it’s going to take. I should have left you in Suva; you’d still be parked in front of the hotel waiting for me.”

“I’ve got only so much authority,” Kelsey said. “In fact, the only authority I have is the arrest someone.”

“Arrest me,” Trace said matter-of-factly and proceeded logically. “Arrest me and the crew on suspicion of transporting drugs. Confiscate The Tramp Islander as evidence.”

“That can’t be done in international waters,” Kelsey said.

“There are several circumstances where that isn’t the case,” Trace said. “Most countries won’t bother with international waters. We were pretty sure Vanuatu would not come after us. It can be an international mess. And their corrupt politicians and police may have been drug into it. So they left it up to the crooks to take care of us. However, if a government really wants you, let’s say, like Australia, they can get you; they can get anybody.”

“How, legally?” Kelsey asked.

“You could claim we are pirates,” Trace said, “Nah, that would never work: I got both of my eyes, both of my legs, and no parrot.”

Kelsey chuckled. “Two of them I can fix, but I don’t have a parrot.”

“I like the way you think,” Trace chuckled.

“Years ago, many years ago,” Trace said, “my dad owned this boat. Then it was called the Tiki. He bought it in Hawaii. He has told me this story several times. He had a heck of a time getting all the ownership papers squared away. It seems it was flagged in Australia. Rather than take months to change it to an American-flagged vessel, he thought, what the heck, let’s just leave it flagged Australian. And that it has always been. Interestingly, the last fellow who owned this boat was an Aussie named Spence. What that means is that you and your navy have jurisdiction over this boat, no matter where it floats.”

“But you’re not smuggling drugs,” Sage said.

“Franks himself let loose the rumor I was smuggling drugs,” Trace said. “With those rumors flying around, that’s enough to confiscate The Tramp Islander for a while. Under the protection of the Australian Navy, that will give time for this whole thing to blow over or time to swoop in and pick up the usual suspects.” 

Kelsey tapped his finger on the desk. 

“I know,” Trace said. “This is a tough decision with a lot of moving pieces. But here’s something that just might push you over the edge.”

“What’s that?” Kelsey stopped the tapping.

“I see a commendation in this for you,” Kelsey said. “Extraordinary work and dedication.”

“There are a lot of loose ends and inconsistencies,” Kelsey said.

“How long do you think it will take your police to get here?” Trace asked.

“Two or three days at the best,” Kelsey said.

“I think between you and me, we can concoct a story that is plausible,” Trace said. “It will make you look as if you used me to set this whole thing in motion.”

“I’m not one for stealing another man’s thunder,” Kelsey said.

“It’s not stealing when it’s offered freely,” Trace countered. “And how many times has one of your loyal police comrades stolen your thunder?”

“It’s not like me to want commendation. It never has been,” Kelsey said.

“Here we are two sorry cowboys or stockmen,” Trace said, “who want nothing more, at the end of the day, than what’s owed us, a plate of beans, a cup of coffee, and a clear sky overhead. Here’s the thing about those clear skies: every now and then, a comet streaks across the sky. Some folks say that’s a good thing, something good is about to happen. You can’t ignore it.”

Kelsey gave a twisted smile. “It’s a logic I can’t put aside. Let’s get to work on a story. I can’t let a fellow stockman ride herd alone on a stormy night.”