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.