Larry, Curly, and Moe

Page 16 from the series Before the Pirates Came*

 

It was cold but clear when Miranda bumped into her neighbors on the dock the next morning.

“Nice boat… So what do you call her?”

Naming the boat was becoming an issue.

“Are you kiddin’ me?  You call yourself a boater and you don’t even have a name?”

“That aluminum raft is gonna be your best friend about two weeks from now, so ya better get used to callin’ her somethin’.”

These were Miranda’s new dockmates, Larry, Curly, and Moe.

“Of course she has a name,” she said.  “Didn’t you see me dock that boat yesterday… watching from Jack’s Steakhouse drinking beer?  I wasn’t born yesterday.  I know that a boat is supposed to have a name, but I’ve been waiting for an A+ sign and decal man to lay it out for me.  I would never want anything but the best for my ‘raft’.  Haha.”

“We’ll hook you up with Captain Brad… he’s the best.  He does everybody.”

They laughed hysterically, college boys at a frat party.

“And when you meet Brad, what will you tell him?  Do you have a layout?  A drawing?  A clue?  Seriously, Miranda… we’re all friends here.  We want to know.”

Definitely not Snow White.  Or Snow Queen, or Ice Princess.  She thought for a moment…

“I’m calling her “Seeking Miranda.”   She knew all along that would be the name, but telling it made it real.  “The letters will be gold and shiny with a bunch of diamonds on one side and a red lipstick on the other. Happy?”

“It’s gonna be a long winter… a girl with red lipstick and a bunch of diamonds peein’ in a coffee can at night.”

“Yeh… a coffee can.  This I gotta see.”

*        *        *

She watched them from the bar at Jack’s Steakhouse the night before but didn’t introduce herself.  Better to observe them in their natural habitat to see what she was getting herself into.

As long as there is a lady’s room at the marina, there will not be a coffee can on board– unless it’s for making coffee.  Miranda had already considered her winter wardrobe and knew there would be more L.L. Bean, less Victoria’s Secret.  She would prevail against the elements just like the guys. 

She already bought a type III life vest to wear on the docks (not curve enhancing but very safe), strap-on ice cleats, and boots from Canada with steel toes and real shearling liners (that made her feet look huge).  She added a Polartec neck warmer and a trapper hat with ear flaps and soft fur.  People from her old life, especially Harry, would never believe this.  Somebody better take pictures.

Her fashion show was interrupted by a knock on the bow.

“I hope you’re down there working on a drawing for your aft deck superstructure and not admiring your red snowsuit. ” (He was looking in the window!?)  “We’re not going skiing, Miranda, we’re here to work.”

It was Ron, the guy on the Hunter 36, the sailboat on the dock directly across from her.  He had been a winter boater at the boat basin the longest.  Since his divorce he had no interest in playing house, alone or with anyone else.  Ron drove a car carrier, delivered cars from the Ford Plant to dealerships all over the U.S.   

She looked at his finished drawings, masterfully laid out to scale on graph paper.  Crap.  This is going to be very hard.  Maybe she should use some of Charlie’s “emergency money” and hire an architect, or…  Ron handed her the tablet, a protractor, and a ruler and said, “Welcome to the dock, Miranda.   Knock on my boat if you get stuck.  I can give you a hand.”

“Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work:  If one falls down, his friend can help him up.”  Ecclesiastes 4:9 (NIV)

She made some preliminary measurements, tore off a sheet of graph paper, and sat down at the little kitchen table in her galley.  It was already dark outside…

 

*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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

© 2011, Shoes for an Imaginary Life. All rights reserved.

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

14 Responses to Larry, Curly, and Moe

  1. I’ve always wondered why my parents named me Larry, especially considering your title for page 16. I enjoyed this page. Great job.

    • Linda says:

      I think Larry is a wonderfull name! Is your last name pronounced Nay-ven-hoo-ven? I may have just cracked the code for “Larry Who.” ; )

      … and thanks for reading.

  2. Debbie says:

    Miranda is no dummy. :) I love that name for the boat . . .and the diamonds and lipstick. But this is a lot to do, to work on the boat. I’m pullin’ for her . . .
    God bless you! You have created something here that is unique and compelling. Love it, Linda!

  3. Theresa says:

    I hope you make another post soon. This is a book that I would have a hard time putting down. :)

    • Linda says:

      Thank you! ; ) I swear it all feels like it happened yesterday. And those guys on the dock were just the best… makes me wonder what they’re all doing now. Hard to believe it was 1997… 14 years ago. OMGosh.

  4. HolyMama! says:

    i confess:
    i wait until i know there are a few of these to look forward to because it’s so much more fun that way!

    • Linda says:

      It makes good reading while you’re waiting to see what they say about that pop can ring! Hope you’re doin’ okay… : )

  5. nelsonRN says:

    Oh so this was a story with many parts. I need to dig into the archives more!

  6. Ferd says:

    Okay, first the guy who gave her the bible, and now Ron. I see the loving hands of the Universe at work. There’s hope yet for Miranda and the good guys! :-)

  7. Gracelyn says:

    Yeah that’s what I’m talking about bacb–niye work!

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