working on anything at the moment.”
“Projects are simmering?”
“Exactly,” Bob said. “You might be surprised at how long stuff churns before anything happens. You get all the right words into the right ears and then you have to wait. I had a string of several years where I moved from project to project. But now I’m in stasis.”
“What changed?” Alan asked.
“Nothing really changed. Sometimes you get lucky, and sometimes you don’t. I had a long-term project fall through and it all seemed to cascade from there,” Bob said.
“What was the project?” Alan asked.
Bob scratched his forehead.
“If you can’t tell me about it, that’s fine. I was just being nosey.”
“No, it’s fine,” Bob said. “I’m not under any non-disclosure or anything. It was my own project that collapsed. My female lead passed away and the concept died with her, I guess.”
“Sorry,” Alan said.
Bob waved. He gripped his temples with his hand. “I didn’t really know her that well. I’m sure she was a lovely person, but I’m more sad for her lost potential.”
“I understand.”
“I should get going,” Bob said. He glanced at his watch.
“Thanks again for your help. When I get this baby in the water, I owe you a free ride,” Alan said.
Bob smiled. “My pleasure.” He headed towards his vehicle.
“Hey, Bob?”
Bob stopped with his hand on the door and his foot on the running board of his big SUV.
“You doing any interesting work on your house tomorrow? I mean, could you use a hand on anything?” Alan said.
“I could think of something,” Bob said with a grin. A line wrinkled his brow. “What if your phone rings while you’re gone?”
“You get cell reception at your house, right?”
Bob nodded.
“I’ll forward the calls to my cell. I’ll be over after the bus picks up my thug son.”
Bob laughed. He got in his vehicle before he called back to Alan. “See you then.”
Alan waved as Bob rolled down the driveway.
X • X • X • X • X
OCTOBER 5
“YOU’VE GOT to lift it, Joe,” Alan said.
He could barely see his son’s face in the pre-dawn light. The bow of the boat rose and the twigs stopped scraping against the hull as Alan took another step back. He gripped the handles of the little boat’s stern and backed towards the cold water. His heel splashed in the shallows.
“Stop,” Alan said.
“Dad?” Joe whispered.
“Yeah?” Alan asked back.
“Are there any fish this time of year?” Joe asked.
Alan began to giggle.
“I have no idea,” Alan said. He started to laugh. Joe joined his laughter. “They sold me a license. I guess so.”
Alan shoved the stern into the water and then moved to the bow. He and Joe slid the boat into the water. Joe led the painter along the shore and then walked the boat down the dock while Alan retrieved the little motor. He lowered it into the water and carefully guided the outboard onto the back of the boat.
I’ll fall in before I let this engine get wet, Alan thought.
He clamped it in place by feel. The sun was still hiding behind the trees, even though the cold nights had taken most of their leaves.
“Get the tackle,” Alan said to Joe. “It’s in the camp.”
Joe disappeared into the woods while Alan found the gas can. It had a funnel attached to its spout. Alan lined it up carefully before tipping the can. He liked the smell of this gas. The oil mixed in made it smell sweet. Alan stuck his finger in the small tank and filled it up until he felt the cold gas. He capped the can and lowered it to the deck of the boat.
Joe came back and stopped on the dock.
“Is this it?” Joe asked.
“I can’t see what you’re holding up,” Alan said.
Joe turned on his headlamp and Alan saw the poles and the bag in his hand.
“Shut it off,” Alan said, throwing his arm up in front of his eyes. “I’m blind, I’m blind. Oh, help me, I’m blind.”
Joe laughed and turned off his light. He sat down on the edge of
“Projects are simmering?”
“Exactly,” Bob said. “You might be surprised at how long stuff churns before anything happens. You get all the right words into the right ears and then you have to wait. I had a string of several years where I moved from project to project. But now I’m in stasis.”
“What changed?” Alan asked.
“Nothing really changed. Sometimes you get lucky, and sometimes you don’t. I had a long-term project fall through and it all seemed to cascade from there,” Bob said.
“What was the project?” Alan asked.
Bob scratched his forehead.
“If you can’t tell me about it, that’s fine. I was just being nosey.”
“No, it’s fine,” Bob said. “I’m not under any non-disclosure or anything. It was my own project that collapsed. My female lead passed away and the concept died with her, I guess.”
“Sorry,” Alan said.
Bob waved. He gripped his temples with his hand. “I didn’t really know her that well. I’m sure she was a lovely person, but I’m more sad for her lost potential.”
“I understand.”
“I should get going,” Bob said. He glanced at his watch.
“Thanks again for your help. When I get this baby in the water, I owe you a free ride,” Alan said.
Bob smiled. “My pleasure.” He headed towards his vehicle.
“Hey, Bob?”
Bob stopped with his hand on the door and his foot on the running board of his big SUV.
“You doing any interesting work on your house tomorrow? I mean, could you use a hand on anything?” Alan said.
“I could think of something,” Bob said with a grin. A line wrinkled his brow. “What if your phone rings while you’re gone?”
“You get cell reception at your house, right?”
Bob nodded.
“I’ll forward the calls to my cell. I’ll be over after the bus picks up my thug son.”
Bob laughed. He got in his vehicle before he called back to Alan. “See you then.”
Alan waved as Bob rolled down the driveway.
X • X • X • X • X
OCTOBER 5
“YOU’VE GOT to lift it, Joe,” Alan said.
He could barely see his son’s face in the pre-dawn light. The bow of the boat rose and the twigs stopped scraping against the hull as Alan took another step back. He gripped the handles of the little boat’s stern and backed towards the cold water. His heel splashed in the shallows.
“Stop,” Alan said.
“Dad?” Joe whispered.
“Yeah?” Alan asked back.
“Are there any fish this time of year?” Joe asked.
Alan began to giggle.
“I have no idea,” Alan said. He started to laugh. Joe joined his laughter. “They sold me a license. I guess so.”
Alan shoved the stern into the water and then moved to the bow. He and Joe slid the boat into the water. Joe led the painter along the shore and then walked the boat down the dock while Alan retrieved the little motor. He lowered it into the water and carefully guided the outboard onto the back of the boat.
I’ll fall in before I let this engine get wet, Alan thought.
He clamped it in place by feel. The sun was still hiding behind the trees, even though the cold nights had taken most of their leaves.
“Get the tackle,” Alan said to Joe. “It’s in the camp.”
Joe disappeared into the woods while Alan found the gas can. It had a funnel attached to its spout. Alan lined it up carefully before tipping the can. He liked the smell of this gas. The oil mixed in made it smell sweet. Alan stuck his finger in the small tank and filled it up until he felt the cold gas. He capped the can and lowered it to the deck of the boat.
Joe came back and stopped on the dock.
“Is this it?” Joe asked.
“I can’t see what you’re holding up,” Alan said.
Joe turned on his headlamp and Alan saw the poles and the bag in his hand.
“Shut it off,” Alan said, throwing his arm up in front of his eyes. “I’m blind, I’m blind. Oh, help me, I’m blind.”
Joe laughed and turned off his light. He sat down on the edge of
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