“Watch for water. Stay on opposite sides. Got it.”
“We can share a room, you see, but we have to dance a bit. You on one soide, yeah, an’ I on the other.”
“Check,” I told him, earning a smile from him.
He looked up at me again. “You are a right big one, aren’t ya! Yes, I believe you’ll work nicely here,” he said, patting my arm.
“Thanks,” I told him, glad he could use me, glad to feel useful.
A few hundred yards from the main house, I noticed a hidden bend around the shore, the ocean dipped into the land a bit then spit itself back out and within a veil of foliage, a few twinkling lights shone through. With familiarity, Father brushed back the greenery revealing a hidden alcove beneath a small waterfall. In front of that waterfall sat a small bobbing houseboat. Looking at it, I thought there was no way it could hold my weight, and I certainly could never stand inside.
Father skirted around the sandy path and stepped onto a small six- or seven-foot dock to the houseboat’s front door.
“Uh, Father?” I said, hesitating as I tested my weight at the edge of the dock.
He whipped around, his cane flailing with the movement, almost pegging me in the knee. Father and his cane were lethal, I thought with a grin.
“Hmm?”
“I don’t think this thing will hold me.”
“Have faith, boy,” he said simply, turning back around and opening his door. Cautiously, I followed him, placing one foot down and letting my weight bare down before lifting my remaining foot from solid ground. I stood still, waiting for something to happen and when it didn’t, I took another wary step forward. The water beneath the dock rippled but it held me.
“Comin’?” I heard from the door.
“Yes,” I answered, walking to the door and ducking inside. The roof was a lot higher than I’d thought it was at first. I found I could stand up straight, but the top of my head grazed the ceiling. I’d have to be careful of fixtures but all in all, I thought it was doable. I’d lived in worse.
“’Tis moine,” Father said, gesturing to a small room just off the main room. Essentially it was a six-by-ten-foot room worth of a living and a kitchen. Another door laid opposite his on the other side of the living space. “Toilets,” he said, pointing to the other door.
I looked around. “I’ve got the couch then?”
“No, lad,” he said, leaving out the front door again so I followed. I hadn’t noticed it until Father had stepped down, but the entire boat had a narrow wraparound path. Following it around, we came upon a small floating room of sorts connected by another narrow wood dock. We followed that dock and he opened the door into the simple room.
“It used to be a boat slip but we added a floor and a bed for the odd guest.”
“Cozy,” I said, meaning it. The room was maybe five-by-seven feet but there was room for a bed and a sink as well as a small table. I set my bag on the bed.
“Lights out, boyo,” he said with a jovial smile. “Don’t forget ta say yer prayers.”
I hadn’t the heart to tell him I wasn’t the praying type. “Sure, Father,” I told him, stretching out my hand for him. He shook it and I thanked him for the room to which he promised me I would earn it, so I smiled. He left and I heard his slight steps and cane as he reached the main house, the door closing behind him.
I sat on the edge of the slight bed and for the first time since I’d arrived wondered how it was I’d found myself sitting on a bed inside a boathouse in Vietnam. It was so far away from where I’d thought I’d be right then. If anyone had asked me six months earlier where I’d been right that minute, I’d have told them dead, drunk, or in jail… and I’d have meant it. I marveled at the turn my life had taken.
A passing motorboat rode by off the main shore, probably unaware there was an entire houseboat hidden behind the hanging veil of foliage near the beach. I felt the effects of its wake bob my floating room up and down, up and down. I kept hearing the hollow thump of wood hitting wood so I peeked out to find a small, rather beat up dinghy attached to the side of the dock just outside of my door.
I studied the small boat and wondered if it could get me to shore quietly without Father finding out. I wanted to find Finley. I needed to see her, really, but I also knew I didn’t want to betray Father’s or Sister Marguerite’s trust. Just as quickly as the thought entered my mind, it’d left. I wouldn’t jeopardize my situation because of some selfish want to see Fin, no matter how much I worried for her.
I wasn’t completely convinced but I’d have to get used to it. I fell back on the tiny bed, my legs dangling, trying to distract myself from entertaining thoughts of checking on Fin. Every few minutes, I’d justify leaving only to convince myself again that it would prove dire if I was caught. I didn’t want to sabotage her. She’d spoken for my character, after all.
Finally, I felt myself dozing as the adrenaline of the day wore off. I was more tired than I’d realized. My eyes closed before I even had a chance to remove my clothing.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I woke to knocking the next morning, groggy from lack of acclimation to the time difference.
I cleared my throat but my voice still came out raspy, “Yes?”
“Up, lad, we’ve work ta do,” Father Connolly’s voice commanded.
I scrubbed my face with my hands to wake myself and sat up, the bed creaking beneath my body. My knees ached from hanging off the bed the entire night. When I crashed, I crashed hard.