Arrow's Rest by Joel Scott (best books to read all time .TXT) 📗

Jared stared up at the ceiling. “My inclination,” he said after a long pause, “would be to purchase fedoras, put on some windbreakers, and motor up and down the channel behind the boathouse in Arrow’s dinghy for a spell.”

Danny stared at him, amazed. “I’ve known you for a long time, Jared, and you have had some odd ideas on occasion, but that is undoubtedly, by a multiple of ten, the dumbest single thing you’ve ever said.”

Three hours later, tucked under brand-new fedoras and wrapped in thrift-store old-man windbreakers and slacks, they were putting along the club backwaters in Arrow’s little Avon dinghy with the 2 HP Seagull on the back.

“I hope we don’t have to make a run for it,” Jared said.

“If we come across somebody I know while I’m dressed like this, I’ll kill you myself, you won’t have to worry about anybody else.”

They’d told Arnie that if anyone asked they were doing a survey for an American production company that was shooting a movie on the West Coast and needed a yacht club for some background scenes. With the weak Canadian dollar the American film trade was flourishing in the province, and it was a reasonable premise. To flesh out their pathetic ruse Danny had brought along a complicated-looking old camera he’d bought for an additional twenty dollars when they purchased the clothes at the Sally Ann. He pointed and clicked it thoughtfully at regular intervals.

The boat channel was open at both ends, and a full circuit at dead slow took about ten minutes. Some of the boathouse garage doors were open and they stopped occasionally in front of these while Danny pretended to take pictures of the boats tied up inside. Occasionally a person would appear and wave to them, and they waved enthusiastically back. On the third go-round, a slightly weathered older woman on the stern deck of an enormous old mahogany powerboat waved them aboard. She was sipping a drink and it probably wasn’t her first. Stretched out in a teak chaise lounge, she looked bored and expensive from close up. Her grey-streaked blond hair was fashionably cut and dyed, and the rangy body gym-toned. The boat didn’t fare nearly as well under close scrutiny, the planked decks scarred and worn, and all the varnish a few seasons past redoing, with green brass and bird shit omnipresent. It looked like it hadn’t left its berth in years.

“Just how big is this thing?” Jared inquired as he stepped aboard.

“Legalese is somewhere in the neighbourhood of eighty-five feet, I do believe.”

Danny said, “Must be a nightmare getting her in and out of the slip.”

“It used to be. Hasn’t been moved since my husband died three years ago. It’s basically my seaside cabin now. For another year or so anyway. Then God alone knows. Insurance survey is due in eighteen months and it probably won’t pass without spending fifty grand or more on her. That might be more than she’s worth in today’s market. Pity. Nobody wants the old ones anymore.”

She mused on the personal injustice of this for a few moments.

“Want to buy a boat cheap? Might even be free if you wait another couple of years. Nice kit by the way. I’d offer you a drink but I guess your lot doesn’t go in for that.”

“Our lot?”

“Yeah. You know, Bible thumpers, snake whisperers, water walkers, whatever. No judgment here.” She raised her glass and saluted them with a sardonic toast.

Danny said, “Actually we’re checking out the marina for a film company.”

“Really? You mean you don’t have to dress like that? Wow. Too bad Ralph isn’t still around. All that old crap of his I gave to the Goodwill must be coming back into fashion.”

She handed Jared the empty jug. “In that case you might be able to mix a decent martini. Booze and glasses in the saloon back there. Very dry, fuck the olives. Beer in the fridge if you’d prefer.”

She waved vaguely in the general direction, and Jared took the jug and disappeared.

“My name’s Merlynn, like the wizard, only spelled differently. My parents were flakes. You’re a handsome devil, aren’t you? If I was twenty years younger and not such a lush, I might set my cap for you. If you’re even old enough to know what that means.”

Danny smiled. “I am, and I do. Speaking of hats, what’s with the religious stuff?”

The blue eyes peered owlishly at him from behind the horn-rims. Danny waited patiently for the penny to drop.

“Oh, that. The weirdoes from the end slip. Came in a while back. Big boat, newer I think. Didn’t stay for very long. Don’t know anything about them other than when I trotted down to see them with my martini pitcher that first evening. Just doing the usual yacht club welcoming thing, you know. Two guys stopped me before I got within ten feet of the boat. Dressed sort of like you two with the hats and khaki and all.” She made a vague gesture. “Not boaty. Tall, skinny pair, unwelcoming and tough-looking to boot. Some music blaring inside with a big chorus. I thought it sounded kind of religious so I figured them for maybe church freaks. And then a big good-looking guy came out on the upper deck and said he was sorry, but they were very busy at the moment and had no time to socialize. He was polite but I got the message loud and clear. PFO.”

Jared returned with the martini jug and she took it from him and refilled her glass.

“PFO?” he asked.

“Please fuck off.” Merlynn tested her drink. “Not terrible,” she said.

“Merlynn was just telling me about her neighbours,” Danny said.

“Unfriendly bunch,” she said. “Not neighbours for very long, either, for that matter. Only saw them for a couple of days that one time. I might have seen them coming in late once or twice after that, although I’m not sure. Another big boat coming into that