“And a glass of wine!”
I hug Kate. “Two!”
We stroll the half mile to The Roundhouse. We’re in no hurry. The Roundhouse was built in 1873, and I’m not sure if it’s ever been remodeled. But that’s it’s charm. It’s fairly quiet this time of day, and there’s no hostess on duty. We sit where I can keep an eye on the door.
In a few minutes, a tattooed waitress comes over. “Welcome to The Roundhouse. I’m Trudy. Are we eating or drinking?”
“Both.”
She leaves us a pile of assorted menus. “Wave when you’re ready.”
“Okay. Do you have a pay phone?”
“Yes, we do. Back by the restrooms.” And she’s off.
“Let’s order first. Then I’ll call.”
A grilled chicken salad for Kate, and a bacon cheeseburger for me. We flag Trudy down and order.
* * *
The little hallway with restrooms, storage rooms, and a payphone is appropriately dark and dingy. I call Mike’s work phone. On the third ring, I know it’s going to roll over to his voice mail. I hope somebody is listening.
“Hi Mike. It’s your dad. But I guess you know that. We’re at Miller’s Marina in Put-in-Bay. You know that, too. Here’s what you don’t know. We’ve imported six terrorists: four males and two females. They are all dressed like typical P-i-B tourists. They all look middle eastern. The females both wear hijabs.
“They plan to take the ferry from here to Marblehead tonight. They’re going to break up into at least two groups. They’re taking the bus to the Lime Kiln Dock. I think the last ferry leaves at seven. Or maybe eight. That’s all I’ve got. We’ll be back in Vermilion tomorrow. Love you.”
I get back to the table just as Trudy is bringing our food. “I did what I need to. Voice mail.”
Kate nods and examines her sandwich. “Yummy...”
“It’s not Fleming’s, but it’s just us for the first time in twenty-four hours.”
“Do we have to go back?”
“I’m afraid so, Cutie,”
We eat in silence.
CHAPTER 31
After lunch, we walk across the street to DeRivera Park. We sit for a while just looking out at the harbor. And at the boats hanging on the mooring balls between here and Gibraltar Island. Those are our favorite place to stay in Put-in-Bay.
Not this trip, though. We had no choice. After a while, we decide to walk back to the boat. We’re walking west along Bayview Avenue with the bay on our right and the park on our left. As we pass The Boardwalk, a P-i-B landmark restaurant, Saif falls in beside Kate. We stop dead. “You need not stop. We are going to the same place.”
I’m stunned. “Saif? Why?”
“In America, I am Sam. I am here to escort your passengers to the mainland. Let us continue, please.”
There is nothing more to say. We walk in silence. When we approach the boat, Saif puts up a hand. “When we board, you will stay above. I must talk to your passengers. Alone.”
We board. Saif goes below. We stay in the aft cockpit. He’s back topsides within a minute. “The women are still in the aft cabin.”
He looks around to make sure nobody is around, then opens the aft cabin hatch. He says a few words in Arabic. The women emerge, look at Kate, then go forward to the companionway. Saif follows them. “Armena. Armena.”
Kate and I stay put. We can’t really hear what’s being said, but some is in Arabic and some in English. And some sounds heated. Apparently, there are disagreements. Saif’s voice gets loud, and the discussion ends.
In a few minutes, Saif comes back to the cockpit. “We will be leaving in a few hours. Until then, they will stay below, and you will stay up here.”
“I have to use the head.”
“What do you mean?”
“I have to go to the bathroom. Pee. Urinate.”
Kate nods. “Me, too.”
“I understand. Kate, you will go first. But you must wait for one minute.”
Saif goes to the companionway, leans down, and says a few words in Arabic. I hear shuffling. He turns to us. “You may go down. One at a time.”
* * *
Kate goes below. She’s back in five minutes. “Now you, Captain.”
When I get below, I discover that everybody is crammed into the forward cabin. Must be crowded. I’m not sure why Saif wants to keep us apart, but it works out well for me. I go into the owner’s cabin head, and lock the door.
I sit on the head, and pull my burner phone out from its hiding place under the sink. I dial Mike’s number. Mike answers on the second ring. I speak softly and quickly. “Saif is here. Salmon shorts, light green Frosty’s tee shirt.”
“Dad, what’s going on?”
“I can’t talk.”
I hang up. I put the burner phone back in its hiding place, pee, flush, wash, unlock the door, and go out into the owner’s cabin. Saif is standing there. He looks unhappy. “Did I hear you talking?”
I hesitate. “No.”
“I believe I did.”
“No. No, you did not. Maybe mumbling. Mumbling to myself about this whole damned thing.”
I start to fake anger. It turns to real anger. “I was mumbling to myself about this whole mess. I’m sick of it. My wife is petrified. I dealt with you guys when I lived in the Middle East. You belong there, not here. I want you guys gone. I don’t want to be used like this. You have no…”
“Silence!”
Hamza has joined Saif. He looks upset. He says nothing.
Saif steps forward. “Give me your cell phone.”
“Why?”
He takes a step closer. He’s smaller than I am, but I have no doubt that he would win in any fight. “Give it to me!”
I do. He hits the start button, and looks at the screen. “What is your code?”
I don’t argue. I try to look defeated instead of mad. “Zero-nine-two-five.”
He types, waits, and hits the screen a few times. “Very good,”
He tosses it back to me, and turn away. He and Hamza go back to the galley. I go back topsides.
* * *
I join Kate in the cockpit. I sit next to her, and grab her hand. I’m shaking. “What happened. I heard shouting.”
“I lost it for a minute.”
“Why?”
“Saif thought he heard me talking in the head. He demanded to see my phone. I argued. He won. He checked my phone. I think for recent calls. There were none. It’s okay now,”
She leans over and hugs me. I whisper in her ear. “I called Mike on the burner. Gave him Saif’s description. We’re OK.”
We un-hug. I stand. I hope they can hear me. My next comment is for their ears, too. “I think it’s probably good that they know I’ve had enough of this shit. I’m tired of being used as a ferry for terrorists.”
Kate says nothing. She stands next to me. We hold hands. We look out toward Gibraltar Island. “Next time we’ll be on a mooring ball. Next time we’ll be alone. We’ll get our boat back. We will, Cap’n.”
CHAPTER 32
At about seven, Hamza comes back to the cockpit. “I am sorry about the altercation before.”
And he looks sorry. Maybe. I nod. He continues. “Some of us will leave now. Some in thirty minutes. Do not do anything foolish. You are being watched. And you will be watched.”
I say nothing. He looks around. It’s Sunday evening. Most of the tourists have left already. It’s quiet. He turns around, goes forward to the companionway, and says something in Arabic.
In a couple of minutes, Saif, one other guy, and the two women are assembled in the salon. They all have their backpacks. They all look tired. I hate to say it, but they’ll blend in with the other tourists heading home from a Put-in-Bay weekend back to the real world.
Saif looks hard at me. I know that he knows that all in not well. He knows that I did something while I was in the head. He doesn’t know how or what, but he knows I did something. He nods. “Goodbye, Captain.”
They
go ashore and down the wharf to the sidewalk. They turn left and disappear.
Hamza leans against the railing. “The rest of us will leave in thirty minutes. I hope that we have not disrupted your lives too much.”
I just look at him. He says nothing. He turns and goes forward to the helm. He sits and looks out over Put-in-Bay. After about five minutes, he goes below.
Hamza looks to be about twenty-five. He probably moved to the U.S. from Afghanistan as a young child. And then left the United States ten years ago. More than once, I’ve seen him with a very pensive look. I suspect he’s comparing the first fifteen years of his life to the last ten. I think about our talk.
I look at Kate. I shake my head and sit down next to her. When they’re gone, I’ll tell her about my talk with him this morning.
And we wait.
* * *
In what seems like just minutes, I hear someone coming up the companionway stairs. I don’t even bother to look.
I hear Hamza from up by the helm. “It is clear. You may come up.”
The rest of them come up and hop out onto the wharf. Hamza points to a small building on the other side of the wharf. “Wait over there.”
He comes back to the cockpit. “You have been kind, Captain; Miss Kate. Know that if it were up to me, you would never have contact with us again. We have tried to clean up below deck as much as possible. We leave now. Farewell to both of you.”
“Farewell, Hamza. I hope your dreams come true.”
Kate looks at me with a very puzzled look.
Hamza jumps ashore.
And they are gone.
Kate looks at me again. She starts to cry. I put my arm around her. “I know, Kate. I know. I’ll explain later.”
* * *
In a while. “You know the question, Cap’n.”
“I think Miller’s rents golf carts. Let’s go up to The Keys for dinner.”
* * *
In ten minutes, we’re zooming down Dupont Road at twenty miles an hour. Well, zooming as fast as a golf cart can zoom. “Let’s do the grand tour of the south end of the island before dinner. And then the north end after.”
“Sounds good, Cap’n. It’s good to be free. Free of…”
I think I hear a little sob. I take one hand off of the wheel to hold hers. Since Middle Bass Island is less than four miles long by two miles wide, the grand tour doesn’t take long. But is does take us past the Lime Kiln Dock. There are no ferries in, and judging by the lack of people, the ferries are done for the night. I breathe a sigh of relief.
We turn up Langram Road and head for The Keys.
* * *
The Keys looks like – well – the Keys; the Florida Keys. It seems that some local business men went to Key West several years ago, and said, “A place like this would work in Put-in-Bay. So -- they remodeled an existing steakhouse into a Key West style bar and restaurant. They even have a Tiki Bar. And palm trees. Big palm trees. I have no idea how they get them to survive the Ohio winters, but they do. It feels like our home on Islamorada. And the food is good, too. They have perch and walleye instead of mahi and snapper.
Sunday evenings are quiet on the island, so we pretty much have the place to ourselves. It may be The Keys, but this is Lake Erie. We both have the perch.
It’s after dark when we get back to Morning Star. She still looks beautiful. I hope they haven’t spoiled it for us.
CHAPTER 33
We go aboard Morning Star and check things out. It actually looks pretty good – considering that there were six extra people on board last night. But there are ghosts here. I pray that the ghosts will leave. “Let’s go topsides for a little while. It’s a nice evening.” Kate gets a glass of Kim Crawford for her and a San Pellegrino for me.
We take our drinks topsides and sit together on the cockpit settee. Kate looks at me. She sobs a little. I put my arm around her. She leans against me. All is quiet. Before she can finish her wine, Kate is falling asleep. I let her sleep for a while. It will be a while before I sleep.
* * *
The sun is shining. It’s late morning.
Last night, I gently woke Kate, and we came below. I put on another Tenth Kingdom. We both crashed.
I let Kate sleep and get up to make coffee. As I’m loading the Cuisinart with Eight O’clock French Roast beans, my phone rings. My Verizon iPhone, not my burner.
The display says it’s Mike. “Hi Mike. This is a surprise.”
“Hey Dad. Lauri and I are on our way home from Europe. We thought we’d surprise you.”
“Wow. Where are you?”
“Hopkins Airport. Cleveland. We’ll be at your place in an hour if you’re accepting visitors.”
I pause for a minute. “Oh. Yeah. We’d love to see you. But we’re in Put-in-Bay. We were planning on going home today anyway.”
Kate heard my phone ring. She’s awake. Mostly. “Who is it?”
“Hang on one, Mike. Gotta tell Kate.
“It’s Mike. He and Lauri are at Cleveland Airport. They’re coming to visit.”
She lights up a little, and jumps – yes, actually jumps – out of bed and goes into the head. I smile for the first time in what seems like forever. “Mike, Kate’s excited. We can be back at VYC in about two hours. Why don’t you meet us at the Yacht Club?”
“Sounds like a plan, Dad.”
I hang up, and think about what I need to do to get us out of here. Coffee first. Then wash up and change clothes. Then tell Miller’s that something has come up and we have to leave. Then stop at the fuel dock to top off the tanks. Then we’re out of here.
VYC is only thirty miles from here. A little over an hour on flat water. And the water is flat.
The coffee is finishing up as Kate comes out of the head. She’s showered and dressed.
I tell her my plan. “Let’s do it.”
In record time – thirty minutes -- we’re at the fuel dock. I put a hundred gallons of diesel in each tank. A hundred gallons of diesel would have lasted for a year in Our Adventure. It lasts three hours on Morning Star. Of course, today’s one-hour trip on Morning Star would have taken most of the day on Our Adventure.
Another half-hour, and we’re on our way. We idle through Put-in-Bay harbor until we clear the eastern tip of Gibraltar Island. Then up on plane. We head east between South Bass and Middle Bass, then turn south to go around Kellys Island.
It’s always struck me as odd that Kellys Island is spelled without an apostrophe, but it is. I’ll have to Google that someday.
Once we round Kellys, we have a clear shot to VYC. The lake is flat and I bump the speed up to thirty knots.
We’ll be at the Vermilion River breakwater in about a half an hour.
CHAPTER 34
I come down off of plane about a hundred feet from the breakwater. I go up the river at idle speed. Four houses, then Erie Lagoon, then the Vermilion Yacht Club.
As we pass the clubhouse, Mike and Lauri wave from the front deck. We wave back. Kate and I speak at the same time. “Thank God.”
We turn into Ontario Lagoon, go past our fuel dock, and to finger dock 2. I do a ninety degree turn to starboard and start to back in. Mike is at the end of the dock, and Lauri is on the wharf. Kate goes forward to handle the bow lines. She grabs the line from the piling to starboard as we go by and drops the loop over the cleat on the bow. Mike hands her the port line and she drops its loop over the port cleat.
They both go aft to secure the stern lines. Lauri hands Kate one line, and Mike hands her the other. We’re secure. I shut down the engines, and turn everything off.
We go ashore. There are lots of hugs all around.
* * *
As the hugs wind down, I can see the questions forming on Mike’s face. “Hey guys, let’s walk up to the clubhouse. I need to stretch. And pee.”
I walk next to Mike. “Mike, the boat may be bugged. We need to go somewhere else to talk.’
“Bugged? You think?”
“I’m pretty sure my phone
is. Let’s go to the Quaker Steak and Lube down by the bridge. We can sit outside. It’ll be fairly noisy, so we can talk. And we can keep an eye on the other diners. Watch out for ‘tourists’ like I just imported.”
“That makes sense, Dad.”
We continue up to the clubhouse, and all of us use the restrooms. We meet out on the deck. There are a couple of other club members hanging out. I introduce Mike and Lauri.
“Let’s do lunch at the Quaker Steak and Lube. The original is in Sharon. It was a favorite watering hole of mine many years ago. Their franchises have spread this far now.”
Lauri looks at me. “Did you say ‘Quaker Steak?’”
“Yeah. The original was in an old Quaker State gas station. This one was never a gas station, but they have carried the gas station theme to all of the franchises.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“It is. We can all go in the Terrain.”
* * *
We settle into a table outside by the river.
“Okay, Dad, talk to me.”
“Bottom line: Kate and I have been forced to smuggle middle eastern terrorists from Canada into the U.S. Twice.”
“Forced?”
“Forced. The first time with an assault rifle. The second time with pictures of you kids, and with very thinly veiled threats to you.”
The table goes quiet as this sinks in. I notice that Lauri puts her hand over Kate’s.
Mike gets out his cell phone, hits a few keys, and sets it on the table. “Dad, I want to record this so I don’t miss anything. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Start at the beginning, Dad.”
CHAPTER 35
“The first time was in June. Mid-June, I think. We thought it was a one-time deal. We didn’t tell anyone about it. We…”
“What happened?”
“We were in Leamington, in Canada, for the weekend. Just a short getaway. Our first time across the lake in our new boat.”
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