“Whatdaya say?”
“Oh, wow. You’re like serious, huh?”
“Afraid so.”
“Far out. When do ya need me?”
“Sometime this week okay?”
“Sure. Lemme get my shit together, I’ll put on my sled an’ be out.”
“Looking forward to it, Stitch. Thanks a lot.”
“Somethin’ to do, man. Maybe we can talk about me movin’ into that little crib a yours out by the drive, dude. Ol’ Ivy say she thinks it’s great you guys want me to hang out there, man.”
“We’ll talk about it.”
“Cool. See ya.”
*****
Crockett scrounged around the kitchen for a while and came up with a banana and some Graham crackers. He was busily munching away when Satin entered off the deck.
“You’re up,” she said.
“Marginally. Where you been?”
“Sittin’ on the dock of the bay.”
Crockett grinned. “Havin’ fun, Otis?” he asked.
“We have little fish there, too. I like it.”
“Like what?”
“Sitting out on the water. You know, floating on the dock.”
“You do, huh?”
“Yep. We need a boat. A little one.”
Crockett flinched. “What did you say?” he asked.
“I said that we need a little boat.”
“I’m sorry. Could you repeat that please?”
“Don’t push your luck, big guy.”
“It’s just that I remember a time when I mentioned a little boat might be nice and, correct me if I’m wrong, you seemed considerably less than enthusiastic about the concept. If memory serves, you may have even rolled your eyes and sneered.”
“I don’t recall that,” Satin said.
“Ah. Perhaps I’m mistaken.”
“Perhaps you are.”
“Okay. You want a little boat. That does not narrow the field a lot. What kind of little boat?”
“I don’t want one that’s rocky.”
“Rocky?”
“You know, that wiggles around a lot if you move.”
“I see.”
“And I don’t want one that goes fast or has a big motor or anything.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I want to be able to stand up and not fall out of it.”
“Very desirable.”
“I want to be able to get in and out of it without having to grab onto everything.”
“Devoutly to be wished.”
“And I want to be able to lean back and read or something.”
“Let me sum things up just to be sure I’m clear. You want a small stable platform that’s slow and quiet upon which you can move freely and not fall overboard, and on which you can lean back and relax while you read or contemplate the infinite.”
“And I want to drive it without having to learn a whole bunch of crap.”
“Gotcha. One more question. Is it okay if I fish a little from this seaworthy archetype of your waterborne wishes?”
“If you promise to not get everything all stinky and slimy.”
“There it is,” Crockett said.
“What?”
“The defining reason that, no matter what kind of boat we get, I’ll always have the stinky and slimy threat hanging over my head.”
“I don’t think I’m being unreasonable.”
“You’re not. That will come later.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes. A boat that is fished from can be expected to get a little wet and a little messy from time to time. Occasionally a fish may actually land on the deck. Now and then, something may get kicked over. The compromise might be a pontoon boat.”
“One of those things with couches and chairs all over the place? They’re huge!”
“No, not always. There are little ones. Little ones that are minimalistic and unadorned. Little ones that would leave you room to actually walk around a bit and put out a chaise lounge upon which to recline. Ones from which you could relax while I fished, if you’d care to. Ones that run on tiny outboard motors and electric trolling motors that make almost no noise at all, with a top speed of no more than six or seven miles per hour.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Ones that also have aluminum decks that can easily be cleaned by splashing water over them, and that can be left out on the wind and rain without having to worry about carpeting or rust.”
“Let’s go look at ‘em,” Satin said. “I can be ready in ten minutes.” She headed for the stairs.
Crockett took another bite of banana. He had at least a half hour.
*****
“This is nice,” Satin said. They were standing at the back corner of the fenced lot at Coveside Marine near Smithville Lake, looking at a tiny pontoon boat. “I could just put a chaise sideways here at the back if this chair wasn’t in the way.”
“You could,” Crockett said. “The pedestal seat lifts right out.”
“The deck is big enough, isn’t it? You’d be sitting at the front to fish, right?”
“Right up at the front.”
“And it’s got one of those top things I could open up if I needed shade.”
“You could do that.”
“It’s already got that little motor thingie up front for you.”
“A foot controlled trolling motor.”
“The side rails are really low, though.”
“The children are all grown up, honey.”
“What’s this trap door in the floor?”
“That’s an aerated livewell,” said a voice from behind them, as a sales guy came walking up. “Pond King Pro is the best mini-pontoon on the market. Everything is aluminum, including the powder-coated floor. These little boats last for years and years. Got underdeck tackle storage, underdeck storage for a second battery, battery and gas tank trays on the pontoons at the rear. Your Bimini top comes with it. So do rod holders and cup holders, a depth and fishfinder, your foot controlled fifty-five pound thrust Minnkota trolling motor, and two Anchormates. One front and one rear, with ten-pound vinyl-coated mushrooms.”
“How big is the deck?” Satin asked.
“Six and-a-half by ten feet, m’am. Room for you to relax while he fishes.”
“I like it,” Satin went on. “I can put a lounge chair along the side and still have room for the rear seat.”
“Trailer’s extra, about nine hundred. Seven-fifty to you today. Motor is extra, if you want one. Got a special on Honda two and five horse four-strokes right now. Ten percent offa the regular price.”
“How ‘bout batteries?” Crockett asked.
“That’ll be up to you. We sell Interstates. Great deep cycle batteries.”
“You throw in two mid-sized batteries, fifteen percent off the little Honda two-horse, put in two more pedestal receivers in the front so both seats can fit up there, one on each side, and you got a deal,” Crockett said.
“Can’t put double pedestals up front,” the salesman said. “Under deck storage is in the way. Plus, if you put a motor on it, you’re gonna need that rear seat right where it is. Tiller steering.”
“Make it twenty percent off the motor.”
“Done,” the salesman replied. “When you want to pick it up?”
“Now,” Crockett said.
“Oh. Ah…take a couple of hours to get everything back on it. I’ll get the guys to hurry.”
“I’m gonna need at least a ten-inch drop off my hitch to trailer it.”
“We sell ‘em.”
“Great. We’ll go get lunch and be back to pick it up.”
“You’ll have to get the boat licensed, the trailer licensed, and insured and things.”
“No thanks. It’s going straight to a private pond.”
“At least you should get the trailer licensed. You could get arrested.”
Crocket smiled. “Probably not,” he said.
*****
“Back a little more.” Satin shoute
d. “Okay. The taillights are under water.”
Crockett put the Ram into park, stomped on the emergency brake, got out, and walked to the edge of the pond. The rear end of the little pontoon boat was floating free above the trailer. He stepped up on the tongue, released the catch on the winch strap, grabbed the bow line, and let it slide into the lake. Stepping to the side, he pulled the boat toward him until the pontoons were just touching the shore.
“Well done. Take the truck back up by the drive and meet me on the dock.”
“Okay,” Satin said and scurried into the cab.
Crockett put one foot on a pontoon and pushed. As the boat floated away from shore, he clambered aboard, sat in the front chair, and fiddled with the trolling motor foot control, watching the control head swivel in front of him. He gave it some juice and awkwardly backed the boat around and headed down the lake, zigzagging a bit as he learned how to aim the damn thing. Satin was waiting on the dock, nearly bouncing on her toes. He bumped the dock as he pulled in.
“Hop on,” he said.
She did, catching her balance as the boat wallowed a bit with the extra weight, and sitting in the chair at the rear of the deck.
Crockett carefully backed out and slowly cruised away. Satin watched the shorelines slide by for a while. “I’ve never been down here,” she said. “It’s pretty. It’ll be even prettier when things get all grown back in.”
Crockett carefully zigzagged some more, sliding around stickups in the water.
“You left a lot of trees on the bottom,” Satin said.
“Fish like ‘em. Good cover. This may be our lake, but I built it for the fish.”
Something darted into the weeds from the shoreline fifty yards in front of them. “What was that?” Satin asked.
“I don’t know. Fox, raccoon, something small. With all the cover and brush piles and stuff, plus the water, we’ll have lots of wildlife here. This fall I’ll put out some salt blocks for the deer.”
On they went, until cuts and coves where Crockett had never been coasted by. Crickets started up from the shore and the occasional tiny ripple fled from the oncoming boat.
“How fast are we going,” Satin asked.
“Walking pace. Maybe three miles per hour.”
“How fast can we go?”
“About three miles an hour.”
“How ‘bout with the engine?”
“Maybe four miles an hour.”
“That’s all?”
“Yeah. We’re slow. I thought you said you wanted to go slow?”
“I did, but this is really slow. Can we get a bigger motor?”
“The one we have is still a virgin. I can take it back and get a bigger one.”
“How big?”
“About four times as big as the one we have.”
“Then we can go four times as fast?”
“Maybe twice. A little more.”
“That’d be good.”
Crockett grinned as he looked at his watch. It was nearly eight. He turned the boat in a slow circle. “Gotta head back,” he said. We’ve been out here for almost an hour.”
“That long?”
“Yeah. I want plenty of light when we get to the dock. I’ll have to keep a hand lantern on board for when it gets late.”
“This is so pretty and nice,” Satin said. “We could picnic out here.”
“You want a bigger boat, too?”
“Not a lot bigger.”
“What?”
“I’m kidding, dummy. I would like to go a little faster, though.”
“Tomorrow I’ll see what I can do.”
Dundee was barking at them from the dock when they arrived. She jumped aboard to reunite the pack, then skittered around while Crockett tied the boat up, and bounded ahead of them to the house.
Crockett hit the swing as Satin went inside. In a couple of minutes, she returned with two short scotches and a lit Sherman for him, and settled in on his left.
“That was really great, Crockett,” she said.
“Having a boat is nice, huh?”
“Yeah,” Satin said. “Why’d you wait so long?”
*****
At around eight the next morning, Crockett was motoring the new boat down to the dam where the truck waited for it, trailer backed into the water. He winched the little pontoon onto the trailer, tied it down, and drove back up by the house. When he walked into the kitchen, Satin was pouring coffee.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m on the way back into town with the boat.”
“You’re taking it with you?”
“Yeah. I decided to shoot the works. As long as we’re getting a bigger motor, I’m going up to the maximum recommended size. Fifteen horsepower.”
“How much do we have now?”
“Two.”
“Wow, Crockett. It’ll be fast.”
Crockett grinned. “It’s not gonna run forty miles-per-hour or anything like that, but it’ll sure be a lot faster than it is.”
“So you have to take the boat back.”
“Yeah. If we’re gonna go that big, I want electric start and a power lift. They’ll have to install everything and hook up the gas tank and stuff. I’d rather the pros did that.”
“I wish I could sit beside you when we took the boat out. I could take a folding chair, I guess.”
“Not good. Boats bounce and swerve. A folding chair could get a little dicey sliding around on the deck.”
“Yeah. You’re right. Oh, well. I still really like being out there.”
“Maybe you’d enjoy fishing.”
“Yuk.”
Crockett grinned. “Okay,” he said, pouring himself some coffee to go and kissing his bride. “See ya when I get back.”
*****
The salesman was glad to see him and got a kick out of the decision to go faster. He took the unused motor back and gave Crockett the same discount on the big motor with the add-ons. As they were walking through the showroom to finish payment, Crockett spotted a strange little craft against the wall. He detoured to look it over.
“What’s that,” he asked.
“That,” the salesman said, “is the Water Wheeler ASL. It’s a pedal boat.”
“Like there were on the lake when I was a kid.”
“They’re better now. The bearings are a lot stronger and long lasting, the materials are all form molded and foam filled, the pedaling is easier, and this one is special. It’s electric.”
“What?”
“Yep. Built in is a Minnkota trolling motor in the middle of the double hull. It pulls up out of the way if you’re pedaling. When you get tired, you drop the motor, turn the dial you see in there beside the tiller, and away you go. Two speeds reverse, three speeds forward. The seats adjust for the correct leg length for pedaling, or you can slide back and recline for just drifting or cruising under power. Comes with the foldable top to keep the sun off.”
Crockett grinned. “That’s cute as hell,” he said.
“Only weighs about a hundred and ten pounds. Grab handles front and rear for carrying it around. Built in battery charger. Just plug it in.”
“All kinds of room to stash a small cooler and stuff behind the seats,” Crockett went on.
“And built-in drink holders. Ready to go.”
“Will that fit in the bed of my truck?”
“Sure. We can angle it in and tie it down. It’ll ride.”
“Great. Install the best battery it can hold. What else do I need?”
“I’ll throw in a boat cover, a bow line, and a foldable anchor.”
“Jesus,” Crockett said. “This time yesterday I didn’t own a boat. Now I got two.”
*****
As Crockett approached home, he called Satin on his cell phone and asked her to meet him by the dam. She was waiting for him as he backed down the slope. She looked perplexed.
“Where’s our boat?” she asked.
“In the shop. I’ll get it tomorrow.”
/> “What’s this?”
“This, my dear, is your boat.”
“My boat?”
“Yep. A special vessel in which you may relax and abandon the cares of the day.”
Satin looked it over. “It’s a paddle boat.”
“Pedal boat,” Crockett corrected.
“That’s a bicycle for the water.”
“One might assume that if one were unaware of current technology. Help me lift it down and put it in.”
The two of them slid the boat out of the truck and carried it down to the water’s edge, slipping it into the pond, bow first.
“You will notice,” Crockett said, “that it has a Bimini top for keeping the sun out of your lovely eyes. You will also observe seats that adjust to the correct leg length for optimum pedal power. Those very seats also slide back into a position that will allow you to recline and be at your ease.”
“Yeah? That’s kinda nice I guess, but a paddle boat?”
“Pedal, darling. Pedal. It’ll be good for you. Exercise and all that, but…should you get tired of peddling your ass, as it were, take note of the dial on the console beside the tiller there in the center. That very dial actives an electric motor artfully concealed under the hull, allowing you to zip about without straining your lower limbs.”
“What?”
“A motor that retracts up and out of the way for pedaling, slides down and into the water for power without effort, and can be combined with pedaling should you need to race for safe harbor in the face of an oncoming squall.”
“I don’t have to paddle, uh…pedal?”
“Nope.”
“Cool!”
“Plus you also have a cover to keep it clean and a collapsible anchor, should you care to linger in a lagoon without being moved by the breeze. And, you will note, behind the seats is ample room for accessories as well as munchies and libation.”
“You got this for me?”
“Who could deserve it more? Your operator’s manual is on the front seat. Get it and learn how to operate your boat. I’ll move the truck and meet you down by the dock.”
Behind the Badge Page 19