Snow Angel

Page 39 in the series Before the Pirates Came*

Miranda unzipped the little door in her shrinkwrap.  Blinded by the morning sun, she was delighted by what she saw.  What was once a dark howling wilderness was now a playground of drifting white peaks and powder.  Giant snow drifts stretched across the boat basin and covered the summer cottages nearby.  If not for the fear of disappearing or getting stuck, Miranda would have run off the end of the pier and fallen onto her back to make snow angels.

All things bright and beautiful
all creatures great and small
all things wise and wonderful
the Lord God made them all.

Cecil Frances Alexander

It would have been a perfect day to ride the bosun’s chair to the top of  mast, ”getting high” as her crazy dockmates called it.  The view of Bridge Street to one side (now crawling with snowplows), and Lake Charlevoix to the other, would have been enchanting 60′ up!  Maybe she should have named her boat “Snow Angel” after all… 

Still in her boots and a fowl and crusty snowsuit, Miranda peeked around the shrinkwrap and was stunned by what she saw:  Her dock and the pier were shovelled?  All the way up to the marina building?  To the ladies room, too?  Boat basin management wasn’t exactly big on customer service this time of year, and she was very happy that she wasn’t going to have to do all that work herself.  She didn’t notice the man disappearing around the corner and into the parking lot… 

Miranda headed up the ramp to the ladies room in a hurry.  Staying sober last night was the right choice.  It felt good to wake up clear-headed and not hung over.  Maybe it was time to take another shot at sobriety.  When she passed the Beneteau, she yelled at Greg to wake up and look outside.  He was  usually an early riser and Miranda knocked hard on his bow.  That’s when she saw the note taped  inside his sealed shrinkwrap door. 

Miranda– Had to visit a friend last night who ran into some trouble during the storm.  Back on the boat next week.  Have a Happy Thanksgiving… Greg.

Are you kidding me?  He LEFT?  After dishing out all that advice?  Maybe he has a girlfriend or maybe he couldn’t stand getting seasick.  Either way, she’d give him a hard time as soon as the dockmates reconvened on Tuesday. 

Miranda was the only one who toughed it out on the dock last night.  She was either a hero or an idiot.  Either way,  it will be a great story someday.  Just then, she spotted footprints much bigger than her own outside the lady’s room.  And cigarette butts near the door.  What was that weird guy doing here this early?  She wondered whether he hung around all night, which made absolutely no sense considering the deplorable conditions. 

His presence at the boat basin disturbed her and she made a mental note to talk to some of the locals, find out who he was, and get to the bottom of this.  She looked in the mirror and  noticed dark circles under her eyes (she hardly ever slept), brushed her teeth, and took an extra long shower.  She couldn’t wait to head up to Jack’s Steakhouse for some breakfast then make her way to Petoskey Travel, just one block away.  Her tickets to West Palm Beach were waiting.  

Miranda looked out into the parking lot hoping to catch the intruder up to no good.  But instead, she saw only one car, her own– brushed off, free of snow, windshield scraped clean.  And the space around her car was shoveled.  Whoever was responsible did everything but start the engine and put a hot cup of coffee in the cup holder.  She wondered about the mysterious man.  People always surprised her. 

“Judge not, that ye be not judged.”   Matthew 7:1 (KJV)   

*This story is based on some true events, however, has been fictionalized and all persons appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.


© 2012, Shoes for an Imaginary Life. All rights reserved.

This entry was posted in About Him, About me, Bipolar girl. Bookmark the permalink.

14 Responses to Snow Angel

  1. Larry Who says:

    “…She wondered about the mysterious man. People always surprised her…”

    The mystery man? We probably need more info here. As far as people go, I’m always surprised by them, maybe even shocked.

  2. Larry Who says:


    Okay, turn the page, I’m ready.

  3. Theresa says:

    Hurry and post again! :)

  4. Jan says:

    I don’t like this guy hanging around. Even if he is innocent, he is creepy.

    • Linda says:

      You’ve been pretty accurate about your speculations so far. : ) I can’t wait until his identity and purpose are revealed…

  5. Debbie says:

    Oh I can’t believe Miranda was the only one who toughed it out! and I’m wondering about the mystery man . .. could he be an angel? But, do angels smoke? hahaha!
    God bless you lovely lady, as you somehow continue to write these gripping pages amidst the constant demands on you and your time. love and prayers!

    • Linda says:

      Smoking angels. Hahahaha. You’re killin’ me.

      This is interesting. Many of the boating related adventures going all the way back to Traverse City, and now the boat basin, are topics of joyful discussions here at home. Long conversations about bilge pumps, Michigan’s west coast, and marker lights defining various channels have been highlights around here for months. I may never stop writing. ; ) God is so good.

  6. .endtransmission. says:

    I’m on the edge of my seat. Keep ‘em coming, dearest.

  7. ann says:

    Thanks, Linda

    Hopefully he’s the right kind of angel … Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference between the good ones with bad intentions and the really bad ones…)

    (Why is my ‘Annie Sense’ going off …) Turn the page already! :-)


  8. I adore this site – its so usefull and helpfull.|

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