This is episode fifteen in the sixth novel of The Trace Troy Adventure Series. It is titled The Double-Cross in Paradise. Here are the links to The Double-Cross In Paradise: paperback, Kindle.
Farewell To The Poopy Faces
Just past 3:00 AM, three miles from Port Vila, Trace called Paul’s and Tom’s cabins. “Let’s get shaken.”
From the pilothouse, Trace saw them pop up from the forward companionway.
Trace lifted the mic from its hook. “Lower the sails.”
Trace watched them. He grinned and thought, ‘I remember the first time they lowered sails. ‘Like a calf taking its first steps.’
“Now look at them,’ he thought. ‘They’re seaman of the first rank.’
As soon as they began strapping the sails to the boom, Trace started the engine. It sputtered and settled into a steady hum.
He called the harbormaster. He gave directions to a dock.
Port Vila’s harbor could be tricky during the night. The water lay calm, and the currents mild.
Port Vila was on Mele Bay on the southwest part of Efate Island. In the Bay, there are two options to arrive at Port Vila’s waterfront docks: a small southern passage to the south of a bay island named Ifira. It was a little more than three hundred feet across. Trace chose the much larger northern route around Ifira Island, the safest way.
Trace eased The Tramp Islander alongside a pier at the shipping area of Port Vila. Trace reversed the engine to slow The Tramp Islander to a crawl. Paul and Tom tossed the lines. They jumped ashore and tied the lines.
Paul and Tom reported the pilothouse, and Trace told them to get some sleep. Trace fell asleep on the bench.
Only Sage awoke for the crew’s breakfast.
Trace climbed below during the passengers’ breakfast. Makani poured him a coffee, and he leaned into the mess. “We’re at Port Vila. You have an hour to debark.” He reached over Patterson’s shoulder and grabbed a muffin from a plate on the table.
“Hey,” Patterson said, “that’s the last one, and that’s from the passengers’ table.”
“My obligation to you and your friends ended as soon as Tom put the gangplank in place. That was just before 4:00 AM. Last night I foolishly decided to allow you to sleep out the night and provide a free breakfast. And what do you do? Complain about a bran muffin. I should have tossed your derrières ashore three hours ago.”
Erin stood. “This hasn’t exactly been a pleasant experience for us, ya know.”
“I want 10 dollars from each of you for this morning's breakfast,” Trace said.
“Pound sand,” Patterson said.
“Put your forks down, get up from the table, and get off the boat,” Trace said, taking a vicious bite from the muffin.
“We’ll pack and leave, but we won’t pay a penny more,” Margot said.
“I’m holding your baggage until I get my money,” Trace said.
“You can’t do that,” Zoey said.
“I can and I will,” Trace said.
“What are you going to do, manhandle us?” Margot said.
“You or any one of your crew better not lift a hand to any of us,” Erin said.
“All I have to do is lift a finger,” Trace held out his index finger. “All I have to do is dial the harbormaster. It’s marine law. I can confiscate goods until I’m paid.”
Patterson reached into his back pocket and pulled out his billfold. He opened it and fetched two twenty-dollar bills. He tossed it on the table. He stood. “There you go.” He motioned with his arm to Erin, Margot, and Zoey. “Let’s get off The Bounty.”
No more than five minutes passed before all passengers filed from The Tramp Islander.
Trace and Sage stood on deck watching them saunter away.
“I wonder if they’ll hurl one last insult?” Sage said.
“I can guarantee it,” Trace said.
Zoey turned and cupped her hands around her mouth. “I hope you get lost at sea and sink.”
“Wow, that hurts,” Sage said to Trace, sarcastically.
“Yeah, what a sharp tongue,” Trace clicked his cheek. “That will stick with us a long time.”
“I got a good one for ‘em,” Sage said and cupped his hands around his mouth.
“Please don’t,” Trace said, “Don’t sink to their level.
“Poopy face, poopy face, poopy, face poopy face!” Sage called out.
Trace grinned and cocked his head. “On second thought, that was brilliant.”
“An oldie but a goody,” Sage said. “And one for which there is no comeback. By the way, can we really confiscate their baggage?”
“I don’t know,” Trace shrugged.
No comments:
Post a Comment