I wonder if I have ever really known you—
Or if you exist at all,
And are not but a twisted, fevered,
silver creation of my brain.
And the unreality of you comes over me,
Like a mist upon a lonely sea.
― Mercedes De Acosta
My run-in with Ray Hull didn't dampen my mood. I still wanted to take the boat out on the lake and enjoy the balmy May weather.
I decided to motor out so I left the boat tied up in the slip while the outboard motor warmed up. I adjusted my life jacket, checked for traffic and then, cast off the bow and stern lines and slowly accelerated away from the dock.
I resisted the urge to glance back and see if Ray Hull was watching, but my gut told me he was. I couldn't have picked a more perfect day for my maiden voyage―there was no strong wind or current and the visibility was excellent.
Once out on the lake, I was tempted to unfurl the sail but opted instead to cut the motor, drop anchor and just enjoy the peace and serenity of waves and breeze.
There was something primal in being out in the elements and I found the fresh air and sun exhilarating.
I took off my navy polo shirt and using a rolled towel as a pillow stretched out in the sun. It was glorious and I allowed the warm sunlight to gently relax me.
Within minutes I was fast asleep.
I dreamt of another warm day in early spring out in a motor launch, but this time I was not alone. She was there with me―the girl I could never meet except in dreams and her laughter haunted me.
"You're a reckless lady," I shouted over the roar of the motor and the buffeting wind.
"I thought you were a darb," she laughed. "C'mon, everything's jake."
She cut back across our wake causing the boat to launch into a trough and shudder as it slapped against a series of cross waves.
I almost pitched forward and that made her laugh like hell but five short blasts from a nearby boat sobered her fast.
"That was not wise," I reprimanded, but she looked chastened and her huge eyes so contrite, I added, "Open her up again, but this time skip the wake."
"I love you, Paul," she whispered, "I really do."
I felt my throat tighten and my eyes fill with tears and I longed at that moment to enfold her in my arms and never let her go.
Five short blasts from a boat's horn roused me from my reverie in time to see a boat swerve around me, leaving me rocking in its wake.
It took a few moments for me to come to my senses and realize the anchor line had snapped and I had drifted into a well-used channel.
Chagrined, I waved belatedly at the motor launch that had narrowly avoided me and motored back to the slip and moored the boat.
Ray Hull was waiting for me along with one of his assistants.
"What happened out there, Marcus?" he called out as I tied up at the dock.
"Anchor rope snapped," I called back.
"You know you were in a busy channel―that should be an x on your map."
"Like I said, Ray, the anchor rope snapped." I said testily.
"Fetch a new anchor rope for Mr. Sterne, Fred and let's examine the old one."
"Sure thing, Mr.Hull, but that rope ain't old―I replaced the old one with a brand new one a week ago."
"Damn! Must be a manufacturing defect. Don't worry about it, Marcus, I'll replace it free of charge."
I retrieved my unopened picnic basket and walked away feeling shaky and unsteady on my feet.
Again, I felt Ray's eyes on me but didn't want to give him the pleasure of seeing me rattled.
I don't know what upset me more―narrowly avoiding a collision with the motor launch or being rudely awakened from my dream.
One thing I did know for certain though, the man in the dream was not me, and that really concerned me.
I was in love with that girl but she evidently was in love with somebody else.
Lucky him.