Married by Mistake Chapter 7. The Water Taxi

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Chapter 7. The Water-Taxi

Her first water taxi ride was an adventure.

She spent twenty minutes putting on the dress she had felt pretty in. But now she did not want to look like a party-girl in the views of anyone else.

This entertained Tom a great deal while he watched her put everything together.

Shoes, dress, then she wore a sweatshirt over that, gave herself a critical look, turning this way and that.

Then pulled it all off, put on a pair of his sweatpants and a t-shirt, then a sweatshirt to finish the look of high heels and sweats.

Tom laughed every couple of minutes while she mumbled to herself, pulling her dark hair into a pony tail, brushing it out, then braiding it.

“You go all out for the walk-of-shame.” He rocked in his chair with laughter until he choked on his own spit.

“Oh hush.” She stuck her tongue out at him.

In the last few days she had not left the Pacific Wizard and had no idea what the whole plane looked like. She had seen it only from the roof of the big plane or inside.

She had spent so much time inside this airplane, with this man she barely knew, but during a drunken party she had somehow married him.

*sigh*

Thoughts pounded Kaylee about the tangled mess of it all. She could not see the end.

She did not know how to accept it, she had thoughts to annul this and be rid of Tom and this accident as soon as possible.

But…

Still, this man who had his name on the marriage license along with hers was special.

And, danged if he didn’t made her soul feel light.

So she felt some fear by telling this caring man that she wanted to leave the plane without him to go home.

Like he would not be there when she came back. If he would just disappear like a dream if she turned her back too long.

That thought bothered her.

A yellow boat with a blue-and-white striped canvas shade pulled up to the door and Tom pulled a lever and pressed a button, the door opened up like a giant bird extending its wing.

Tom leaned out and paid the boat-pilot who thanked him, calling him Mister Harte, but Tom asked to use first names.

“Yes, Sir, Mr. Tom. Morning Ma’am.” The taxi-pilot looked as if it was all he did. “Be careful getting in.”

She kissed Tom at the edge before she stepped into the water-taxi in deep thought. It was a new experience. The taxi swayed and rocked more than the big plane when she settled in.

“Can we go around the plane so I can see it all?” She asked, the flying-boat that had been her home for forty-eight hours non-stop.

“Aye-aye, Ma’am.” It was an affected tone. The pilot of the boat could have just been a student from the University working over the summer.

“Oh ma’am, look at that.”

When the stubby yellow boat pulled away he turned the wheel and showed her the view.

From the outside, the jet was as beautiful as could be, and the plane was massive! At least a hundred feet long and the wings were wider than the length.

Twin jet engines up high with the T-tail she had to looked up at while standing on the roof of the big plane. Now they blocked the sun as the water-taxi’s motor rumbled and slowly moved them under the tail’s shadow.

The jet, painted deep blue from the nose that faded to a forest-green on the rear of the plane with a wizard and a witch riding brooms on the engine nacelles. The wings had boat-shaped pontoons to keep the wingtips out of the water.

The Pacific Wizard was exquisitely beautiful — and her home if she wanted it.

On the tip of the nose of the plane,  painted with the sun, with two killer whales jumping towards each other making a mustache on the sun. Under the mustache of whales, a smile of the ocean, painted on just above the waterline.

Riding the taxi to shore, the pilot of the boat looked the plane over from the distance.

“That is a beautiful vessel, how long have you owned it?”

“It belongs to…” She paused. “My husband. He had it before we got married.”

It saddened her with that thought. She was not supposed to be married, the beautiful home with wings.

*I need to think.*

“Must be nice!” He nodded and smiled. “Able to start the engines and be someplace exotic in a few hours.”

“Yes. We have flown to Las Vegas and back in a single night.”

“Wow… nice! That’s gnarly!” The taxi-boat pilot laughed. He was no more than twenty. Then asked. “Does Mister Tom have a sister?“

“You know… That is a mystery.” She said quietly as they pulled up to the dock. Leaving a slightly puzzled taxi driver sitting in his boat.

*I need to know a lot more about Tom.* Her curious side awakened. She had more than thinking to do.

The Healing Heart

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He wore a hat these days, his hair had thinned, turned white in most of the remaining hair.

Often he would laugh when his friends complained about going grey, redheads do not go grey.  They just fade to white. But he wore his cowboy hat, the one that his daughter brought back from her travels as a good-will Ambassador several years before.

Today, he walked with his grandson, holding hands with the blond-curly vessel of non-stop questions.

“What kind of bird is that?”

“Why do cats live here and not at home?”

Nicholas the Second (Named after his grandfather) answered Nicholas the Third (Named after him) did his best to answer each question before the next one erupted from the single-digit aged young man.

For a couple years Big Nick walked this path alone, weeping at the loss of his daughter. His wife long divorced him, married another man with a position in a large company and moved out of the country.  She had abandoned them in favor of a new life, as far away from the husband, a daughter, a disabled son and a grandson as she could get.

The son, disabled with profound Down’s syndrome, played with Little Nicky and loved his nephew like no one could love another.

On days that Robert went to school, Big Nick went for a walk along the wooded lane. No other family for a thousand miles, Child Services checked in on them once a week and spent an hour inspecting cabinets, laundry and playing “endless questions”.

His finances, also under scrutiny on a regular basis, stretched to  the breaking point every month, he often held his breath. His retirement depleted early on with private care for Robert before he found a program to accept him that worked best. The stress over the years since Maggie left built to profound levels.

Then AnnaMarie’s plane went down in the ocean, there was nothing to bury, no survivors, no body. Just her and his son-in-law were gone. Nicky, too young to make the business trip for just an afternoon meeting with some politician who promised her a possible posting in a desirable location.

They talked of Japan, or Ireland, Sweden and the Nordic country names they bandied about with excitement.

But they never got to the meeting, a volcanic eruption a hundred miles away spread ash, harder than metal, in the sky.  What looked like light haze, was in point of fact, volcanic dust.

Jet engines, a spinning, flying blowtorch, ingested the abrasive salad of silica, crystalized carbon and thousand other ingredients that rapidly destroyed the internal parts of the jet engines.  The investigators discovered one engine detonated, shrapnel separated from the central hub, destroying the wing controls, then at just under five-thousand feet, the wing separated from the fuselage, sending it into a one-way trip into non-compressible water at two-hundred miles-per-hour. The ocean, there almost three miles deep, prevented proper recovery.

Hellish as it was, Big Nick had performed harder jobs at some time in his life.

Pretty sure, anyway.  He just could never remember when it was so miserable.

Explaining to Little Nicky what happened was, perhaps, the most difficult.  They both cried, Big Nick for his losses, Little Nick because he never saw the elder cry before.

Today, they walked together Little Nick and he. The young man had a spirit that pulled on his soul, so much like his mom.

He pulled his grandfather’s soul into the wind like a kite. With steely-blue eyes and a curiosity that knew no limits, the once red-headed giant of the boy’s life drew his breath again and answered the next questions while they walked, holding hands.

“How much to clouds weigh?”

“What are clouds made of?

“Why do they float….”

He loved his grandson.

Journey Never Ends. The (almost) never rhyme.

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Clouds float overhead in the dark of the night

Alone, as the minutes pass

he has been here before.

Shoes off

drink in hand

a walk in the sand. 

Alone

The ring of fire is his path

among the rocks lovers chase

they wear rings 

shimmering in the moonlight

a swallow taken

Married by mistake?

a wish for luck

The beach is as long as their future

a glass raised in honor

A toast to beginnings

the old man walks on

to the end of his path

alone