Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
of a nice girl for so long. I ordered another round, and she loosened up quite considerably.
While we were talking, she put her finger on my hand to emphasize a point. Eventually she
left it there.
I was conscious of the looks we were getting and suggested going for a walk. The beer was
getting to me, and I did not want her to think I was a lush.
“Great idea, let's,” she agreed. She insisted on helping me with the bar tab, and my old-
fashioned up-bringing was most severely challenged. I finally relented. Outside, she went
and unclipped Zephyr from the front entrance and made a sweet fuss over him.
We walked through the crisp, night air, marveling at the glowing myriad stars in the dark
purple sky. The neighborhood was an industrial nightmare of rough, corrugated, tin ware-
houses, old, dilapidated buildings, and scrapyards with trash piled up everywhere. Over-
head telephone wires snaked haphazardly on drunken, wooden poles, looping low over
swayback roofs. Tonight it was the most romantic place I had ever seen; I walked as on
a cloud and was entranced by this lovely girl who was walking by my side laughing and
having a good time.
We arrived at the dinghy dock in due course and reluctantly said goodbye. It was now or
never I thought and leaned over to kiss her. She was warm and smelled so good and femin-
ine, her long, fluffy hair soft and fragrant in my face. She kissed me back, almost hungrily
and we lingered for quite some time.
She finally pulled back and saying softly, “I must be going.”
I squeezed her hand, “OK Liz, thanks for a wonderful time.”
We rowed in silence through the quiet anchorage, neither of us really wanting to part. As I
altered course to go to my boat I heard her sweet, low voice bidding me a good night.
“Night Liz, sweet dreams,” I answered her.
I could not sleep much; things were happening too fast. My mind was in a whirl; I had
fallen in love with this beautiful, young girl. Work at the yard was all consuming, and the
change in pace from our leisurely cruise was enormous. I felt restless and sat in the cockpit
in the heat of the night. I looked out across the anchorage to see if Liz was still up. Her boat
seemed to be in darkness; it was a quiet night - morning - I corrected myself, glancing at
my wristwatch, 0200 hours it told me. I was about to go below when I caught sight of Arm-
chair Steve's boat. A flash of anger flickered across my mind; I had not forgotten his ugly
behavior the other night and felt rather smug about the sudden turn of events. I almost felt
sorry for him, but then the vision of his ferocious act replaced that feeling with contempt.
