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The Inside Passage (Ted Higuera Series Book 1)

Page 12

by Pendelton Wallace


  “Honey, you look beautiful as ever.” Her dad brought her luggage through the door. He set the bag down and gave her a big hug, then carried it through to her bedroom.

  Her bedroom. Well, for the last five years she lived at home anyway. She shared it with her sister Jennifer until Trish, the oldest, got married. Trish always had a room of her own. Now Jenn had Trish’s room. She and her kids moved in with Mom and Dad when she left her abusive husband. Her two kids, who usually stayed in Candace’s room, would be sleeping with their mom during Candace’s visit.

  “Sit down, let me look at you. Tell me all about your Harry.” Mom steered Candace towards the sofa.

  “Oh, Mom, I can’t believe it. It’s all like a fairy tale.”

  “He sounds like Prince Charming all right.” Dad re-entered the living room. “But he’s a little long in the tooth, isn’t he honey?”

  “He’s young and vital, Dad. You don’t want people thinking of you as old, do you?”

  “No. And I’m not, but I’m also not marrying a girl my daughter’s age.”

  “John! Enough. Candy, your sisters are both coming for dinner. Jenn was able to get the night off.”

  ****

  “I want to sit next to Aunt Candy.” The toe-headed five-year old grabbed the chair.

  “No me.” His little sister could barely get the words out.

  “That’s okay, Johnny. You can sit on this side and Amy can sit on the other.”

  Mom’s favorite meal, fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, green peas, fresh-baked biscuits with homemade strawberry jam, and a summer salad, crowded the table. Candace managed to ignore the chicken and make a good meal from the vegetables.

  “You girls go sit in the living room while Dad and I clean up the kitchen.”

  Trish looks old and worn out. I can’t believe she’s only seven years older than me. Crow’s feet appeared near her eyes and her hands showed too many days in dishwater.

  Jenn was no prize either. She put on at least ten pounds since the last time Candace saw her. They both showed signs of a hard life in rural Idaho.

  “Well, Candy, tell us all about him.” Jenn blurted. “Mom says he’s a lawyer. . .”

  “I heard he was the head of the law firm. Mom says he owns the tallest building in Seattle.” Trish spoke on top of Jenn.

  “I thought you were never going to get married. . . “ Jenn added.

  “Slow down, both of you. Yes, he is a lawyer. No, he doesn’t own the Columbia Center. His firm just leases space there. And I guess he’s kind of the head of the firm, he’s the senior partner.”

  “Tell us about his house. Does he really drive a Jaguar?”

  The Inquisition went on for an hour. Mom and Dad joined in and Candace couldn’t answer questions as fast as her family fired them at her.

  “Do you have any pictures, dear?” Mom asked.

  Candace slipped an envelope out of her Dooney and Bourke bag. “Here’s Harry. . .”

  “Oh, he looks like Harrison Ford!”

  “And these are his kids . . .”

  “Candy! They’re all grown up. How old are they?”

  “Chris is twenty-two and Sarah’s eighteen.”

  “Oh, Candy, you’re going to have problems with grown step-children.”

  Chapter 23

  William and Mary Island, Canada

  We couldn’t be more secluded, Ahmad thought as he trudged up the rough logging road from the beach to the old logging camp. The bunk house and cook house are worthless. They’ve been reclaimed by the wilderness. The store house and workshop fared better. Built of corrugated iron, the storehouse withstood nature’s onslaught. The workshop stood alone in the center of the clearing, isolated from the encroaching blackberry vines. How far this primeval forest seemed from the open desert of his ancestors.

  With crude wooden plank floors and open studs, the shop offered little protection against winter weather, but was welcome shade against the warm July sun. Ahmad surveyed his new domain. Sturdy work benches lined the walls and aluminum conduit covered electric cables. Once they got the generator running, there would be adequate electricity for his needs.

  “I can’t believe what ancient technology this uses.” Ahmad spread a set of blue-prints on the bench, holding down the edges with rusted wrenches he found hanging on the wall.

  “It is over thirty-years old, my friend.” Yasim placed a hand on Ahmad’s shoulder. “It has been in warehouse for years, we have no idea how long was at sea, if at all.”

  “We’ll be lucky if all the wiring isn’t corroded.” Ahmad traced the white lines on the blue paper. “This thing was built before I was born. When’ll we be picking it up?”

  “We have about week.” Yasim looked out the door towards the bay beneath them. “We rendezvous with freighter far out to sea, well beyond range of patrol aircraft. We meet them at night. Hopefully there will be cloud cover to protect us from spy satellites.”

  “How far out will we have to go?” Ahmad turned from the blue prints.

  “Four hundred miles. Can boat make trip, do you think? It is old, but I believe is strong.”

  Four hundred miles! Sailing the boat through the Inside Passage was one thing, but to take it the open ocean was something else entirely.

  “Kalil will have to answer for the engine and the machinery.” Ahmad drew a breath. “We have the electronic gear to find our rendezvous.” He sounded more confident that he felt. “If Hani can get us there, I can find that freighter.”

  “Well, boat only has to hold together for one mission, if is Allah’s will.”

  ****

  South Pender Island, Canada

  By the time Chris cleared customs on South Pender Island, Ted was awake. He pulled on dry clothes and climbed up to the cockpit as Chris raised the main sail.

  “The wind’s kinda heavy, isn’t it, dude?”

  “The Defiant can handle it.” Chris gave him the once over. “You feel up to being on deck?”

  “Don’t worry about me, dude. I felt worse than this on Sunday mornin’s after a football game.”

  Chris wore his yellow rain gear, including a pansy looking sou’wester on his head.

  “What are you, the Gorton’s fisherman?”

  “You better get your rain gear on, bro. It’s going to blow.”

  Ted eased himself back down the companionway steps, favoring his right shoulder, and struggled into his rain pants. He eased his right arm into his rain jacket, then had to flip it awkwardly over his shoulder to get his left arm in. Back on deck, despite the rain and cool wind, he sweat heavily inside his foul weather gear.

  Rain pounded down and the wind increased to an unseasonable gale as the day progressed. While Chris and Ted ran the boat, Meagan spent most of the afternoon in the cabin, staying dry.

  “We’ve got to shorten sail,” Chris shouted over the roar of the wind. “Get Meagan to come up and take the helm. Then you can help me reef the main.”

  “I hope there’s no paparazzi around.” Meagan emerged on deck in her slickers and sou’wester.

  Ted noticed that this time she paid close attention as she took over the wheel.

  “Put her into the wind,” Chris shouted.

  The sails shuddered as the Defiant eased more and more into the wind’s eye. Finally, she was pointing straight into the wind, sails fluttering wildly.

  “Shit, this is like trying to hold onto a buckin’ bronco,” Ted yelled. His right shoulder hurt like a son of a bitch.

  “I think you better put on a life line,” Chris shouted at him. They climbed back into the cockpit where Chris dug a harness out of the lazarette. “Here, clip this onto the shrouds. I don’t want to have to fish you out of the drink again. Remember: ‘One hand for yourself, one hand for the ship.’” Chris yelled at him. “Hang on tight while we work.”

  Chris lowered the main while Ted gathered it in. Trying to gather in the flapping sail with one hand was like trying to catch the wind. Passing nylon lines through stainless
steel grommets in the Dacron, they secured the foot of the sail to the boom. Chris checked and re-tied several of Ted’s knots. With the foot secure, Chris hoisted the partial sail back up the mast, leaving about three quarters of it flying.

  The boat’s motion eased somewhat. That wasn’t so bad. Ted beamed with an inner pride at accomplishing the difficult sail handling task with his friend.

  “Thanks, guys. Good job, Ted.” Chris took the helm again. “You can go back below if you want, Meg.”

  Megan removed her sou’wester with a flourish and shook out her hair, then gave him a little salute. “Aye, aye, Cap’n.”

  For the next half hour, the Defiant continued to take a pounding. The boat staggered as seas came over the bow.

  “We’re going slower as the wind gets stronger.” Chris shouted to Ted. “We’re still overpowered. We’ll have to shorten the jib. I’ll handle the jib sheets so you don’t have to use your shoulder.”

  With a roller furling jib, this was a one-man operation. Ted took the wheel and Chris tried to roll in the jib but the wind’s pressure on the sail was too much to overcome.

  “Bring her into the wind,” he shouted at Ted.

  As the Defiant came closer to the wind she heeled over hard to starboard. Water swirled over her side deck. Ted heard a loud crash as everything that wasn’t fastened down smashed to the cabin floor.

  A loud shriek came up from below.

  ****

  William and Mary Island, Canada

  Ahmad unpacked as Mohammed and Kalil brought boxes up from the beach in the heavy rain. He meticulously arranged his tools on the shelves and walls. Ahmad surveyed his new domain. Now they’ll pay. This was his chance to strike back at the accursed infidels and the unbelieving Zionists. When he was done, they’d be sorry for every slight, every time he was discriminated against, every humiliation. With a grim smile, he turned to join his comrades outside.

  “The living quarters are uninhabitable.” Mohammed kicked a rotting plank loose from the bunkhouse. His wet hair hung down into his eyes. “We’ll pitch tents. We brought a mobile kitchen unit that runs on propane. It’s rough, but it’s much better than our brothers and sisters in the refugee camps in Palestine have.”

  “Where did you get all this equipment?” Ahmad picked through a pile of sleeping bags, propane lanterns, flash lights and cooking gear.

  “We have friends in Germany.” A huge smile crossed Mohammed’s face. “Yasim told me that they steal credit card numbers from the kafirs, then use them to buy our equipment. They paid for our plane tickets too.”

  Yasim spread a large tarpaulin between trees like a movie screen.

  “When we are ready,” he said, “we film our videos here,”

  A chill ran down Ahmad’s spine. He was well aware that all shaheeds filmed a last will and testament before going into their final battle these days. The videos were powerful tools used in recruiting new jihadists. He thought back on those days spent surfing jihadist Web sites with Mohammed. A dread and fear spread over him at the memory. Would this mission be his final act on this earth?

  “We are now ready, my brothers,” Yasim said. “Soon we meet new leader.”

  Chapter 24

  The Straits of Georgia

  Ted didn’t have time to respond to the cry from below.

  It only took an instant, then the Defiant passed into the wind’s eye and Chris hauled in the jib halfway.

  “Okay, payoff.” Chris coiled down the jib in-haul.

  The violent motion of the Defiant eased somewhat. Ted peered down the companionway hatch.

  “Fuck,” Meagan shouted up. “What was that?” Meagan held on to the companionway rails, her pants dripping wet

  “We were reefing the jib.” Chris took over the wheel and braced himself against the roll of the boat as Meagan glared angrily at him.

  “Well, you could have warned me. I was in the head. You tossed me off the toilet and slopped pee all over me.”

  “Oh, jeeze, Meg. I’m sorry.” Chris stammered.

  Ted failed to stifle his laugh.

  “I’d like to see it happen to you.” Meagan shot an icy glare at Ted. “When I sailed with my Dad, we never were out in winds this strong.”

  The look in her eyes sent a chill down Ted’s spine. That was the look that Mama gave him when he was in trouble.

  “Are you sure we’re safe?” Fire flashed in Meagan’s eyes as she shifted her focus back to Chris. “Shouldn’t we be heading back to South Pender Island?”

  “We’ll be fine.” Chris shouted over the roar of the wind in the rigging. “My Dad used to race the Defiant in tougher conditions than this. The boat can handle worse weather than we can. It should only take us another hour or so to reach Galliano Island.”

  “Chris, I don’t see any other boats out here,” Meagan said. “Doesn’t that tell you something?”

  “Yeah, it tells me they’re all panty waists.”

  “If you kill me because you have to be macho, I’ll never forgive you. I’m going to change, but you have to clean up the head.” She retreated back down the companionway stairs.

  “Whoo-Hoo!” Ted stood on the side deck, with his left arm wrapped around the stainless steel shrouds to keep the pressure off of his right shoulder. Each time the Defiant topped a wave, she crashed down with a violent motion, sending a sheet of white water flying.

  Ted enjoyed the wild ride. Meagan clearly did not. There’s going to be hell to pay for this tonight, dude, Ted thought.

  Ted was soaked from head to foot, despite his bright yellow rain suit. A wide grin spread across his face. Mama wouldn’t be too happy if she could see her precious hijo now.

  “This is what it’s all about, dude,” Ted, water swirling around his sea boots, yelled back to Chris.

  The Defiant charged along, rail down, through the raging sea. By early evening they threaded their way up the channel to Montague Harbor. Covering the sixteen miles from South Pender Island took them three hours.

  Entering the harbor proved another sailing challenge. They fought their way into the gale-force winds to make the entrance, then sailed into the harbor with the wind on their beam. Once in the lee of Parker Island, the winds dropped.

  “We better get ready,” Chris said, now using a conversational tone. “Clear away the anchor. We’re going to do this under sail.”

  “Why can’t we fire up the engine for long enough to get anchored?” Meagan asked from the companionway hatch.

  “Because we’ve sailed all the way here without the engine. I want to finish the day without using it.” It was obviously a matter of pride with Chris.

  They entered the inner harbor under the reefed jib. Tacking to a spot just north of the ferry dock, Chris rounded up into the wind.

  “Let go,” he yelled.

  Ted reached for the anchor with his right hand. Pain shot up his shoulder. “Uhhh.” He used his left hand to drop the anchor into the clear green water. The anchor chain rattled over the roller, then came the nylon line secured to the end of the chain.

  “That’s bottom,” Ted shouted back to the cockpit. “How much rope should we let out?”

  “I’d say a hundred and twenty feet should do it. By the way, that’s rode bro,” Chris corrected, “not rope. We don’t have rope on a boat.”

  “Whatever. . . Hey dude, I didn’t sign up for sailing 101.” Ted waved his good arm in the air. “That’s it.”

  “Okay, let’s see if we can back this thing down.”

  Pointing directly into the wind, the jib filled on the front side and started backing the Defiant up. Ted held onto the tied-off line with one hand to feel for when the anchor bit into the bottom.

  “We’re in. She’s holding fast, ‘mano.”

  Chris furled the jib and climbed down to the cabin with Ted in his wake.

  “What’s for dinner tonight?” Chris asked Meagan.

  “How would I know? Whatever Ted’s making I guess.”

  Chapter 25

  Monta
gue Harbor, Galliano Island, Canada

  Ted didn’t sleep well that night. The rain pelting down on the deck forced him to remain in his bunk listening to the gymnastics in the forepeak. What are those two anyway, rabbits? He pulled his pillow over his head.

  The morning dawned too wet and windy to take the dinghy ashore. Ted spent much of the day in his bunk reading computer manuals.

  To his relief, Meagan whiled away her time in the forward cabin. How many times could she file and paint her fingernails? Once she emerged with a green face mask.

  “My God, what’s that?” Chris looked up from his book.

  “Oh lay off, big boy. It’s just an avocado face mask.”

  “It’s the creature from the deep,” Ted waved his fingers in the air. “It’s alive! Somebody call Fish and Game.”

  After the face mask came a general body waxing. Ted didn’t mind the eye brows and legs, but didn’t want to know what else she was up to in her cabin.

  “Meagan, you shouldn’t use the wax pot,” Chris said. “I don’t want to run the batteries dead.”

  “You can run the engine to charge them if you need to,” Meagan snapped at him.

  Uh-oh, a little trouble in paradise Ted thought. “With all the engine trouble that we’ve had, chica, we might not be able to.”

  She turned and glowered at him. Oscar leapt from the pilot berth to the galley table and put his front paws against Meagan’s chest. She picked him up and cradled him in her arms. “At least someone still loves me.”

  ****

  Bonner’s Ferry, Idaho

  “Mom, Johnny knocked over the flowers!” The shrill voice screeched from the living room.

  “Grandpa, will you take the kids outside while we do some planning?” Candace’s mother turned towards her husband. “We’ve got some girl-talk to do here.”

  Candace’s father got up from the kitchen table without a word, put his breakfast dishes on the drain board and left the room.

  “OK, sweetie, tell us about the wedding.”

 

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