Chapter Four: We Sail Away
And that's how The Lucille became Luscious Lucy. I liked the new name and made plans to have the old boat hauled out so the hull could be scraped and repainted with the new moniker scrawled across her stern. I was also learning all about boats from Deborah.
Deborah was turning out to be a wealth of information and a dynamo when it came to getting things done.
Monday had come and gone, the boat was up on the rails across the river from Mayport at Monty Daley's Boatyard. The hull repairs were scheduled to take about ten days so Deborah was to move her gear into my spare bedroom for the duration.
As I parked the Chevy in the drive in front of the house, Deborah turned and stared at me, "You have got to be putting me on!" She gasped, getting her first view of my decrepit old house.
"What?" I responded.
"You can't be serious," She whined.
"WHAT?" I repeated.
"This place is dangerous!" She wailed.
"You haven't even been inside," I grated, irritation seeping into my voice.
"I won't live long enough to clean this mess up!" She stated, uncoiling from the passenger side of the car and standing in the weed-infested patch beside the driveway. "What happened to your house?"
"Nothing. Why, what's the problem?" I grumbled. "It needs a few repairs is all."
Dave and his brother Steve rolled up behind the Chevy. Both of them walked up and stood with Deborah and me in front of my house.
"Hi Mac," Dave said. "What do ya think Steve? He should burn it down, right?"
"Would save him a lot of money, I think," Steve answered.
Deborah giggled and advanced toward the door. She turned the knob and pushed on the door. Nothing happened. She pushed again. Still to no avail.
"So, how do you get it open?" She queried.
I stepped up and put my shoulder to the door and leaned into it. As per custom, it grated on the sill and swung in. I gestured in a wide sweep of my arm, bowing just slightly at the waist.
"Welcome to Utopia." I said.
"Somebody wake me up, quick!" Deborah murmured, stepping cautiously into the dank house. "I'm having a nightmare."
Dave and Steve were having a great time. It was quite obvious Deborah was not going to lighten up on me about the state of my digs any time soon and they were both standing there holding their sides as she expounded her dismay. All I could do was take the ribbing because she was absolutely right. The house had been totally neglected, since long before Maureen died, and was just about to collapse under its own weight.
"I think I can save her," Steve managed, hanging on to Dave's shoulder for support. "But it'll be a test."
"Fuck you guys," I said, following Deborah into the house.
Deborah stood with her hands on her hips just inside the front door. She scanned the inside of the main floor of the house and shook her head. She slowly made her way into the living room to the left and then back through the so called foyer into the dining area and back into the kitchen. Returning, she looked up the stairway where the bedrooms were and took a cautious journey up the stairs. I could hear her walking from room to room by the squeaking of the old floorboards. Then she returned to stand in front of me.
"This won't be easy," She said, her eyes twinkling. "But I'm gonna make you a deal."
"Whazzat?" I asked.
"I'll help you clean up this pig sty, then we go for a cruise on the boat." Her resolve was granite solid.
"I got a gig next weekend with Dave." I said.
"The boat won't be done before that, so you can't weasel out of it that way," She quipped. "But when she comes down off the rails, we sail. Deal?"
How could I refuse. The house was a disaster, after all. "Deal." I said.
Dave and Steve were standing behind us now. "It's gonna be a major undertaking," Steve entered the conversation.
"How long will it take?" I asked.
"All summer, depending," He said.
"On?" I asked.
"How much the termites have eaten over the years, and how much you want to fix it up." Steve said.
The decision came to me in a split second, like the revelation you get when you're playing kick-ass rock and roll and you throw a new chop into a lead you've been trying to get right and suddenly it happens. "Get it ready to sell. I'm going to move onto the boat with Skinny here after she hits the water." I said, just like that.