The well-stocked “Dusty Rose” ambled south heading for a new adventure. Leaving the cold winds yet running against the stream, the journey was long for this wearied duo crew.
With the coastline remaining in sight off the starboard side, Ike did not ask where they were headed. He just followed the coast and the stars.
Passing Portsmouth, New Hampshire, the craft was faced to the ocean to get around Cape Cod. In some cases the vessel drifted closer to shore at large ports like New York City, looking for some sign of life.
The daily discussions were about sights of the day, what to eat, and average of location. There were no conversations about future plans or former lives. The destination was created from a woven map and to solve the mystery, the pair had to follow it. Frustration brought angered remarks of being marooned on the rocky island they traveled on. Other days were surrounded in the wonderful sights of the ocean with a chorus of sea birds.
An atypical conversation follows.
“What was with all that porn?” Ginger barked out of the blue staring into space.
“You mean Blackie?” Ike questioned with moving his view to the oncoming waves.
“YES, Blackie!” Ginger responded, “What was all that stuff sitting around? And some of it was pretty rude!” she said grabbing her nose.
“Blackie was a single guy living on in lonely desolation.” Ike defended his cousin with only a stare from Ginger.
“Why are we talking about him?” Ike quipped. “You didn’t know him. I barely knew him, but I had some memorable experiences with him.”
Ginger sat quietly, gripping her cup until her knuckles went white.
“I’m not saying he was perfect,” he interjected, “ but he was family and that made it different.”
Ginger just looked down into her cup.
“I have very little understanding of my family line or their interactions. We did things out of rituals.”
She did not acknowledge these words.
“Blackie was a free spirit and broke from family restraints. He among all the others tried to find his true self.”
“With all those….those….skanky hoes?”
Ike smiled. “He has a lust for life.”
“That’s not funny.”
The rest of the day drew silent. Clouds blew over and the little wooden home continued down the coast slapping the waves in a rhythm matching the heartbeat.
Ike thought they might want to go ashore in Virginia and see if “Puppywoods” had survived. He thought of the strangers they had met and wondered if they had moved on. From so many contacts with people known and unknown, Ike had spent energy interaction with hundreds for years, but now there was only one.
The constant waves brought the sunshine and closed the day, continuing into the darkness. The shore became a ribbon of black. There was no sign of light or activity.
The journey continues down by Ocean City Maryland and the Chesapeake Bay tunnel. Ike pondered if he should pull into Virginia Beach and see if Col. Roland, Newton, or Dexter were still there or had they migrated to parts unknown?
Supplies were getting low, so at Kill Devil Hills, Ike decided to go ashore.
Anchoring the much lighter vessel to the sands that had claimed pirate ships of the past, the duo splashed ashore.
“Should we be this close to shore?” Ginger asked squeezing out the gray sweater that had become her second skin.
“It’s low tide. We should be back by the rise.” Ike stretched getting his land legs from weeks at sea.
They slowly walked up the soft sand to the crumbling black top ribbon of a road running north and south.
Ginger excited pointed and ran toward the cinder big building.
“There! A Brew-Thru! It must have everything we need!”
Ike smiled and followed. The packed bags with cans and candles, matches and mustard, and loads of alcohol.
Dragging the stuffed bags back toward the beach, the sun was starting to set.
“Let’s stay on land tonight” I uttered out of the blue. “There is a nice little cabin.”
Ginger looked shocked, breaking her survival pattern for the thought of slipping in a bed that didn’t sway. She was speechless.
The little cedar-weathered cabin had a deck with a hammock looking out on the beach. The bags were placed on the deck as they peered into the small wood room.
“The water works.” She giggled. “It’s cold, but it works.”
Ike took some of the new supplies to the “Dusty Rose” and brought back another line to tie to the deck. Ginger stripped down and climbed in the cold shower. By the time Ike tied off the line and climbed up the rickety steps to the deck, she was refreshed and wrapped in white towels, two glasses in her hands.
“What is this?” Ike coyly asked, looking her still dripping body in the sunset.
“I found a wine rack, completely stocked.” She smiled unwrapping her hair and giving her head a shake in the last beams of daylight.
They sat together sipping their wine surrounded by candles and serenaded by the roar of the ocean, watching the sunset.
Tomorrow is another day and another adventure.