Island of the Lone Sane Thought

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The sink contained the dirty dishes from this morning, and the rack held the dishes I'd washed before going to the cove yesterday. I began to hang the clean coffee cups on the rack as Mike came in and closed and bolted the door. He turned towards me as if to say something, but then seemed to reconsider. Instead he switched off the foyer light and walked into his kitchen.

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The rest of the morning went fairly well, as we managed to get two more keepers, an excellent catch for so late in the season. Mr. Jensen decided to cut it short at ten thirty, as Sean was starting to get worn out. I could see the beginnings of a sunburn on his young face. I packed it it and headed for home, trying to sort out my mental list of things to do with a charterless afternoon.

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I thought for a moment on what fishing technique to use, and decided upon planerboards, two flat pieces of wood standing on their sides with metal spacers running through them. I pulled them out of the small cabin and hopped into the bow with Sean. I'd brought the planerboard mast with me as well and I screwed it into place at the very tip of the bow.

"What's that?" he asked, examining it closely.

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Back to Sarah's POV:

By the time I finished showering and dressing Mike had fallen asleep on the couch. The morning was cold and clear, and I hummed a bit as I readied Wave Dancer for my early charter. There was no sign of Mike--not suprising, given that he was up so late--so I ate breakfast alone.

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****Mike****

I was still amused by Lucinda's newest tactic, but it would be a cold day in hell before I'd have anything to do with that busybody. Much less live with her; even thinking of it made my skin crawl. She was a public nuisance, and I was still amazed that anyone spoke to her, considering the grief she'd caused over the years. Lucy had one son--Davy, once a friend of mine--and when he'd married, she went into gossip overdrive. The nice, amiable girl he'd chosen was simply "not good enough" for her Davy, and she went around and told everyone as much until Davy and his wife simply moved away and stopped speaking to her. She finally apologized but they never returned. I hated to see him go.

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Alert: Abrupt shift in view to Mike's viewpoint!

****Mike****

When I came back to her side of the house to ask her what she wanted to eat she'd already fallen asleep on the sofa, and I couldn't bring myself to wake her. I covered her with a blanket and went back to my kitchen to eat the leftovers I'd bought from Lenore; chicken mashed potatoes, sweet corn. Lenore was the best cook around, and it was a pretty good meal.

For some reason I wasn't tired, so I heated up a cup of coffee and sat down at my kitchen table. I couldn't help but think that she was the most stubborn person I'd ever met. The people I'd met at college and, later, at the marketing company were so different from everyone in Moray. Especially her. Even as kids she'd dig her feet in and that would be it. I remembered how odd it had been to be with her at first; I mean, she was Corny's younger sister, and it was weird to spend time with her. I was always tense that the other kids at school would find out, a fear that turned out to be well-grounded. Then we stopped talking and it was like a whole world closed itself off to me.

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I couldn't sleep, and Mike shrugged all of my attempts at making conversation, so I had to be content with mentally mapping out the rest of my week and the numerous things I had to take care of before I could be satisfied that we could face winter. Soon enough we were approaching the outskirts of Detroit. The traffic became heavier, and Mike became more aggressive, passing cars with abandon and making a mockery of the speed limit. He seemed oblivious to the glares he received from his fellow drivers. I became worried as I covertly watch the speedometer approach ninety.

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Upon entering the house with a bag of groceries I heard the phone ringing. I picked it up in my den.

"May I please speak to Michael Joseph St. James?" asked the caller. I put him on hold and went to find Mike, which wasn't difficult, as he was slamming cupboards in his kitchen.

"There's someone on the phone for you," I said.

He turned to me, puzzled. "Who?"

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Lucinda Jensen was there, and I cursed under my breath, as she was the biggest and most annoying gossip in town by far. She was also quasi-religious, and firmly convinced that Mike and I were living in sin, and, despite my attempts to explain the divided house that we shared, I couldn't seem to get her to understand that we were just friends. It aggravated the hell out of me, though Mike acted like he couldn't be bothered by it. Hopefully I could just grab a cart and sneak away without a pointed lecture on the sanctity of marriage, but I wasn't optimistic.

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Glenn's was in Moray Town, which was a good six or seven miles away from the Island. It was empty, as the handful of families that had summer cottages on the Island had already left. Only the Champlains--our closet neighbors--and two other couples lived on the island during the winter, and it was impossible to see the Champlain's house from ours. The other residences and cottages were all on the other side of the Island, which suited me just fine.

Moray Bridge was almost overrun with water; only the old stone railings kept it from complete submersion. Mike commented on how high the water was. "We'll be flooded out by the end of the week," he added.

I really do like the bridge detail, and living on the island seems like fun. Though in reality it's probably a pain. And island probably shouldn't be capitalized, lol. Anyway, here I'm outlining how isolated the house is. Have I mentioned it's isolated? And almost no one lives on the island? And it's isolated. Apparently I wanted to ram it home that she's antisocial. *snorts*

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