Deceived - Laura S. Wharton Page 0,22

He watched the duck for a while as it continued its pecking and hissing.

Finally giving up, the duck waddled over toward the cockpit, and without hesitation, jumped down onto one of the ripped cushions to make herself at home.

“Oh, no, you don’t. I will not have you messing up my place. Now get!”

But the duck was unfazed. She looked directly at Sam, quacked once, and nestled her head down on her back to sleep.

“You gotta be kidding me!” Sam tried to wave the duck off the cushion, but she wouldn’t budge. She lifted her head up, hissed, and contorted herself again to sleep.

Sam threw his hands up in disgust. “All right, you can stay the night, but you’re going in the morning.” As he hopped back down the companionway stairs, he called out to the duck as he lay back down on his bunk. “I once had a girlfriend like you. I tried to shoo her away, but she just hissed at me too. She was persistent, too. I remember I told her I wasn’t interested in seeing her anymore when Angel and I started getting serious, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Wonder whatever happened to Kathy? She was pretty. She had long dark hair, and a laugh that was contagious. She was from New York, so she talked funny, but she was cool to hang with for a while. She didn’t like Angel, I can tell you that. And she didn’t like being dumped, either. I think she thought we were ‘the couple’ that other kids wanted to be. But in the end, it wasn’t meant to be, you know. Angel had my attention pretty quick, and Kathy didn’t want to let it go. Kathy. Yep. That suits you. Kathy, I’m telling you now, I don’t have room here for you. Tomorrow, you’ll just have to shove off. Good night.” With that, he rolled over and closed his eyes. It was pointless, this thing called sleep.

Chapter twelve

After another hour passed without sleep, Sam saw the sun’s first light peeking through the open aft port. He put on a pair of shorts and made his way through the cockpit and forward to the galley to make some coffee. Kathy was still tucked, undisturbed on her cushion. Sam just shook his head and fished around in the refrigerator for something to eat. When he pulled his head back out, he saw Kathy’s bright orange webbed feet standing on the top step of the companionway stairs, her mottled brown and white tail resting comfortably on the surround to the hatch.

Sam waved at her, but she sat like a fixed sentry, watching him as he lit the propane stove, dug out a pan, and opened the cupboards to find seasonings. It wasn’t until he cracked open an egg that she reacted noisily, stretching out her wings and puffing up her chest, all the while moving backward into the cockpit. She flapped off quacking indignantly, making her roost the top of the portside piling.

“That’ll teach ya to invade somebody else’s space, Kathy,” Sam muttered as he sipped his coffee, standing on the companionway stairs, half in and half out of the boat. “What’s the matter, old girl? Recognize one of your kin?”

“Who are you fussing at, Sam?”

Sam reeled around to see Jenny standing on the dock, her arms hugging herself in an attempt to warm up.

“You’re up early,” Sam said. “Want a cup of coffee?” He stepped into the cockpit, realizing how cold the early morning was on his bare chest, as he motioned for her to come aboard.

“Tea, if you have it, Sam. I just came down to check on the boat. I wanted to get the key from you.” She grabbed the jib line and hopped over the safety line, obviously comfortable getting onto a boat. “Who were you talking to when I walked up?”

“Kathy.” Sam pointed to the duck pecking at the top of the post.

Jenny laughed. “Girl trouble, Sam?”

“The only trouble I have with girls right now is that I don’t have any.” Sam jumped down to the aft cabin and grabbed his sweatshirt from the night before.

“Oh, Sam, are you all right? Is that blood?” Now that Jenny was close enough, she saw Sam’s forehead and the dried drips of blood on his sweatshirt.

She reached her hand out to his head, and he bobbed away like a practiced boxer. “Oh, dear, does it hurt?”

“Only when it’s touched…. It’s nothing, Jen. I just knocked it pretty hard;