That shit really infuriated me. It's one ofthe problems with picking up chicks in bars and bringing them home--having to deal with that nonsense in the morning. When the alarm goes--wham!--I'm up and underway. Usually."Yeah," I mumbled. I felt unusually groggy. K handed me a glass of juice,which I eagerly drank down. My mouth felt dry and my tongue thick as if Ihad a heavy night's drinking beneath the belt. In a way, I guess I had."How long was I out?" An hour," she answered. I focussed on her and noticed she looked...different. Still K, but she'd obviously been working herself over duringmy nap. She looked a little bit softer, somehow, and just a tad older.I'd placed her in her late thirties, and now she looked about a decadeolder. The years had been kind, though, with just a touch of grey in herhair. She swapped the severe secret agent threads for something that, forwant of a better description, screamed 'soccer mom'."What's with the getup, K?"She smiled, and even that gesture. I was close to the half-way point when the wind died. Instantly. I'd been making good time, and it was a gorgeous day. Between the sun and the gurgling of the wake behind me, it was almost hypnotic. I guess I must have dozed off for a bit, because it was the snap of the mainsail luffing that brought me back to reality. There wasn't a breath of air anywhere, and the sea was like glass all around me. In fact, the only thing moving were the gentle roll of waves that had started thousands of miles away in the middle of the Pacific, now preparing themselves to break on the Island's west coast. Unless I fired up the auxiliary, about the only place I was going was onto the beach as those Pacific travellers pushed me in with the tide.It took a while to convince the little Perkins diesel that it was time to go back to work. Once underway again, I looked at the chronometer in the cabin, only to find that it was almost 4:00 PM. Shit! I still had three hours to go, and that would mean I'd miss.
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