Jack Beale 00 - Dangerous Shoals

the companionway, he whacked his elbow on its frame. “Ahhh,” he exhaled. Then he stepped back down into the cabin.
    He rubbed his elbow and slid the hatch shut before any more fog drops could attack. The water was boiling. He filled the French press with coffee, added the water, and began to get cups out while the coffee brewed. He was staring out the portlight into the fog when a hand touched his shoulder and Max’s voice broke the silence. “What do you think about Daniel not showing up yesterday?”
    “No idea.”
    “Do you think he’s okay?”
    Before answering, Jack poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Max. “Yeah, I do.” She liked hers black, but he needed cream and sugar. Actually, he preferred those powdered non-dairy creamers, which were easier to store. Then he continued, “After listening to his story and his obvious fear, he wouldn’t have survived as long as he has if he wasn’t careful. He’ll show up today. Besides, the weather has been awful. You’ll see.”
    “I suppose.” Max didn’t sound convinced.

CHAPTER 41
    IT WAS A LONG , tedious day of nothing. The fog would roll out and the rain would begin. Then, when the rain stopped, the fog would roll back in. During those interludes of rain Jack could scan the shore, but save for an occasional car on the road, it seemed they were the only living souls around. Calls were made to the harbormaster without reply. They read. They slept. They talked. They ate. They read. They slept. They talked. And they waited. No Daniel. Nothing.
    In the late afternoon, after one particularly hard downpour of rain, Jack stepped out into the cockpit. It was dead calm and the harbor was like a mirror. He slowly turned in a circle, surveying his boat, the harbor, and the shoreline. It was so quiet that he could hear the silence, which was broken only by the soft quacks of a family of ducks, over by the marina, as they glided effortlessly past the floats. Their movement was so smooth that the surface of the water was barely disturbed.
    Drips fell from the boom above his head. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, savoring the subtle mélange of smells that teased his senses and transported him to times and places far away. The dominant saltiness of the ocean mixed with the smell of mud from the shore, but there were other more subtle aromas as well. It was the slightest hint of burgers being cooked on a faraway grill that snapped him out of his reverie. He stuck his head into the companionway and said, “Hey Max, what do you say we go ashore?”
    “Really?”
    “Yeah. I think we deserve a break.”
    “But what about Daniel?”
    Jack paused for a moment before answering. Daniel had always been a problem for Jack. First he had interjected himself back into their lives with great secrecy and suspense, and now he was leaving them to play a waiting game.
    “What about him? He didn’t show up yesterday, and there has been no sign of him today. We need the break. If he shows up he can just wait. I really need a burger and a beer.”
    Before she could reply, Jack turned to pull the dinghy in so he could bail it out and dry off the seats. Max retreated below. Daniel had caused her so much heartache and pain in the past. And now her feelings were jumbled again. Jack was right. If he showed up, he could just wait.
    “Max. You coming?” Jack’s shout startled her. Thoughts of Daniel were quickly replaced by the promise of a burger and a beer.
    “Be right up,” she answered as she grabbed both their jackets and her bag.
    Ten minutes later they were walking up the dock at Donnell’s. Mrs. Donnell came out from the white house at the end of the pier and assured them that their dinghy would be fine where they had tied it.
    “Thank you. We’ll be at the York Harbor Inn, in the pub, if you need to get hold of us,” Jack said.
    “You better get moving, rain’s comin’ again.”
    They headed up the hill just as the first tentative drops began to fall. It was about a quarter mile to the Inn, and by the time they were halfway there, Jack and Max were in an all-out sprint and losing the race with the rain.
    As the door to the busy pub shut behind them, there was a barely noticeable pause in the muffled conversations and soft laughter as heads turned to note the new arrivals. The pair―soaked, gasping, and giggling―were only interesting enough for that one moment before everyone returned to their own little worlds, save for one pair of eyes in the