This is the twenty-fourth episode of the novel Two Tamas in Paradise. It is the fourth novel in the Trace Troy South Pacific Adventure series. It will be posted in episodes. The plan is for two or three a week. There are fifty episodes. It has not been published yet. The reader is given a sneak preview.
It suffices to say that because this is one novel in a series, there may be things not understood unless one knows what has taken place in previous novels from this series. Here is a link to the first novel in the series: The Big Gamble in Paradise, paperback or Kindle.
Needed, One Conniver
They passed through the islands that make up Tonga. Nine hundred miles of open sea lay ahead before reaching Rarotonga of the Cook Islands. Trace estimated six days.
Little interaction occurred between the passengers and the crew. They said nothing about why they were going to Oeno Island, and no one on the crew asked them.
Coyote and Sage set up a piece of plywood on the deck. They painted a bull’s eye on it and tossed knives. Coyote, in the beginning, was far superior. However, on the second day, Sage’s youthful skill began to take over.
Adam trained Coyote how to handle the wheel. Coyote enjoyed it but said he only wanted to be used in a pinch. He had only one day of seasickness. To watch him work on deck, one might think he was born for the sea. He loved hoisting and reefing the sails. He relished physical work.
It was a good day at sea. Sage and Coyote tossed knives. The passengers sat in the salon, sipping beer. Adam steered, and Trace lay on the bench reading.
Adam watched Sage and Coyote compete.
“I’ve never seen Coyote and Sage get along so good together,” Adam said. “All the time, me and him were coming out here and waiting for you guys to come back, he worried about how they’d get along.”
“Sage never liked working for his dad,” Trace said.
“What about you?” Adam said. “Did you like working for me?”
“I never thought about it one way or another,” Trace said, laying the book on his chest. “Grandpa worked for his dad, you worked for Grandpa, and I worked for you. It’s kind of like your family name, you can change it, but you always wear it with you. It’s just who you are. I never thought about doing anything other than ranching.”
“So why the sea?” Adam said. “I thought you and I were tiring of each other.”
“Grandpa told me that he was glad to see you go when you went,” Trace said, “but only for a while. He said a man must learn to grow and live independently. ‘A tree can’t grow under the shade of another tree.’”
“Seems to me I heard those words before,” Adam turned to face Trace.
“Speaking of hearing words,” Trace sat up. “Are we getting any words out of our passengers?“
“They complain about the nausea,” Adam said. “I tell them the usual things; Dramamine, look at the horizon, buck up, don’t be a sissy. They don’t say a word about their plans. And I don’t ask.”
“I was thinking about that,” Trace said. “That might be worse than being nosy. Why don’t people ask?”
“Because they already know,” Adam said. “Or just prefer to live in ignorance.”
“Yeah,” Trace said, “I bet their imaginations are running wild, wondering why we’re not asking. We’re acting like we know.”
“And we don’t,” Adam said. “We do have a wild conspiracy theory, though.”
They both broke into a hearty laugh.
“If Allie hadn’t brought back that newspaper,” Adam said, “we’d have been all over this with questions.”
“We have to start things in motion,” Trace said. “It’s your move, Captain.”
“We need a real conniver,” Adam said.
“There’s only one man fit for such a task,” Trace said.
Adam picked up the mic and held it to his mouth. He clicked his cheek and smiled. “Makani, pilothouse.”
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