Sandy looked up from the books broken open on her desk. One hand with spread fingers pressed down two books open at the same time. The books were new and revolting against staying open. Her other hand had a pencil poised in her hand. The way she held the pencil had always seemed awkward to everyone. It was like a fist with the pencil butt going straight into the air.
"Honey, you have been studying all day on your birthday. Let me talk to my daughter for at least five minutes to wish her happy birthday."
"But we have finals tomorrow."
Daddy placed his big warm hands on her slender shoulders. He was a big man with a big belly. He understood. He was very studious himself. That's how he had become a financial controller at a big company. She definitely had taken after him and not her mother. Thank goodness!
Up to the last minute, her mother had been out of control. During the custody hearings, the bailiff had her found in the shabby, degenerated court bathroom doing blow. The bailiff had dragged her in front of the judge. She was wearing a mini-skirt, heavy mascara, and her nose smudged with white blow. The final stroke for the judge had happened, when the bailiff found her in the court parking lot giving a juror a lap dance in his car. It was a red tiny Honda Civic with rust poking the paint. Her body had bumped everywhere at the small enclosure, as she was pushing her boobs into the face of the juror like a high end hooker. The judge had red faced slammed the gravel down over and over to declare father the sole custodian.
"Sweetie, unwind a little. It'll only take five minutes."
Sandy put down her pencil and turned sideways on the chair. She was wearing farmer John shorts. The light blue denim went down to her knees. The suspenders went over her shoulder. The front of the jeans covered her belly. She wore a unicolor lavender t-shirt. Her hair was pulled together in a ponytail. There was not a trace of makeup on her face or jewelry. He definitely didn't have to worry about her having drug problems, a boyfriend, or getting in with the wrong crowd.
"I got you a little something."
He handed her a white envelope that had 'Happy Birthday, Sandy' written on it. He was still in his business suit from the office. It was nothing flashy. It was his working clothes. She ripped the envelope open. Her eyes grew big when she was reading it. Her arms shot into the air with little fists of her slender teenage fingers. She jumped up and full body hugged her father. His face turned slightly red and a big proud smile hushed over his face.
She slunk down on her chair to read the card in detail to soak in everything about the gift. Something made her pause. She looked questioning at daddy.
"A trip to France for my high school graduation is really awesome. Though, I'd really want to see Paris."
"Honey, Paris is a big city with all kinds of crime and dangerous people. Okay, I want my birthday girl to be happy. If you really want Paris, you must understand that you can leave the hotel only with me. There will be no roaming around on your own. On the other hand, if we take the river boat around Southern France, you can run around the little cities we visit however you please. What is it going to be?"
Sand's face turned thoughtful. She was counting the threads on the carpet. Then, she looked up.
"Okay, we'll do the river boat. But, you have to promise that we can do anything all day and night, if we wanted to?"
"Honey, you have my word, as long as it is nothing criminal."
A month later, they stood at the side of the river in Bordeaux. Father was dressed in white slacks with a blue shirt unbuttoned one button more than usual. He wore a white had with a black band. His belly was full as ever. He had a happy smile on his face. The dream of steering a live-in boat through the French backcountry had been his dream for a long time.
Sandy stood next to him with her blond hair. She wore jeans and Bordeaux tourist t-shirt. She held onto her pink suit case. Tara, her best friend, had joined them. She had black hair. Sandy and Tara had been friends for so long that they started to have the same looks on their faces and body language. They both had languid, skinny bodies. The only difference to Tara's dress was that Tara had the bottom of her jeans folded over to show the pale inside of the denim clothes. Her suitcase was black.
The boat rental guy pulled their boat up to the stone wall. The river was green and languid. Large trees grew next to. Their branches reached down into the water. The water curled around the low branches as it pushed toward the ocean. The boat was a big oval thing. The roof was low slung. It had a big belly seemingly underground. There was a little fence running all around it. The fence was maybe a foot high. It made it really easy to jump on the ship anywhere or to dangle the feet over board, while watching the country side drift along.
The jumped aboard. There was a living room with a small kitchen. It was the tiniest sink ever. There was a single propane burner to cook. There was a cockpit with thick a thick leather bench. The girls quickly realized that there was only one bedroom. The bedroom was pretty much a twin sized mattress with no walking floor. The door opened straight onto the mattress. They crawled into the bedroom space pushing their suitcases ahead of them. There was a little stow room to the side for the suit case. Window slits were on both sides of the bedroom to watch out onto the river. The girls bounced around on the mattress being giddy. Father was banished to sleep on the couch in the living room.
Father was immediately intrigued by all the controls in the cockpit. With the manual on his lap, he started pulling the first buttons to steer the boat into the middle of the river and off they went. He learned the finer controls for radio communication as they trawled upstream.
Sandy and Tara were giddy about being in France. They were running around the top of the ship. One got the idea to climb on top of the cockpit, and hang down to give father and upside down wave. They were such children, especially now that all the responsibility of high school was behind them. Father looked up and smiled at them. He loved having a happy family.
Two hours later, he left the big Garonne River with all the transportation barges. The boat puttered into a little side canal. From then on, they were deep in the French country side. They passed fields with tall wheat. Medieval windmills waved at them with their wind wheels spinning languidly in the near wind still summer heat. Quaint villages with sleepy dogs and chirpy birds passed them.
The standing heat made them tired. The girls were reading books and listening on their iPods. At night, the heat would not want to clear out of the boat. The girls slept out of view in their bedroom with the windows wide open. The night air was filled with the smell of trees and fish. Father was sleeping in plain view, whenever the girls came out for the midnight bathroom break.
At first, he slept in long flannel pajamas. After tossing and turning the whole first night in misery, practicality had won over chastity. He slept in his briefs. They were old, cotton things with snappy waste bands. He had apologized to the girls and tried to explain. They had only sniggered at him with a fake accent: "This is France, land of the Frenchmen. Frenchmen have strange customs." And, that was it.
The second night, the rocking of the boat had become one sided. Instead of leaning left and right, it kept leaning, right-right-right. Just as everyone was about to go back to dreams, father jumped up in his briefs. He ran up to the deck and jumped overboard fast as a weasel.
