Subject:  You, Me and Dupuis - Chapter I |
Author:
Loveroy
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Date Posted: Friday, August 04, 04:31:08pm
In reply to:
LoveRoy
's message, "You, Me and Dupuis" on Friday, August 04, 04:19:06pm
The boat bobbed repeatedly in the secured waters surrounding the mooring while the incessant rain covered the distant landscape with its sodden veneer. It was early afternoon and in the gray perturbing sky, the sun fought its way through ominous clouds and finally won its unremitting battle affording a lull in the soggy mess. The constant musical sounds of the running riggings banging harmoniously against the mizzen mast were performed by the stainless steel fittings. And then climatically, one last time the sky lit up with the crackling fire of the electrical storm and a steely cloud mushroomed to the heavens invisible to the human eye. This bolt of lighting and this roar of thunder seemed different to the angry display seen during the present tempest, it was more threatening, more like evil unleashed and then it whimpered away like saying so long to the afternoon downpour.
Nikita Wirth who previously bought the old wooden yacht from a cantankerous sea captain by the name of Jones peeked one of her naked arms through a porthole in order to ascertain her exit strategy. The statuesque blonde, whose eyes matched the outlying ocean smiled and threw a white tee-shirt with its ragged hem on her perky torso almost covering her infinite long legs and then ventured quickly to the outside. She needed to see where the lightning struck, she needed to witness the destruction she fathom mother-nature had unleashed in its unsuspecting vegetation.
Nikita was an adventurous soul, abandoned by her addicted parents at an early age, the woman weathered personal battles that served to make her the indisputable lady she grew to be. She made a pact with herself to only remember the good; forget the bad and move on, this became her motto. She lived by those rules, this was her code and she followed it to the letter - rarely deviating from its war cry.
She still loved the smell of new fallen rain and on this day it was combined with the soft sound of the water hitting the freshly barnacle-free hull and Nikita was in hog heaven. The outdoors had been her home, her shelter and her place to hide from the cruel life she endured after being abandoned when she was just 15. And then one fine day the young woman had inherited money from her estranged mother Roberta upon her unexpected death, and quickly invested most of the funds in the old tub she renamed ‘Me and Dupuis’.
The yacht was given that name as a reference to long ago and more carefree days in America with friends such as the Tattooed Girls, the Jersey diplomats, the Mass contingency and other miscellaneous women who always brightened Nikita’s existence. They had been her strength and when her scholarship grant threatened to run out, those women had been there for her from Middle America and the soft spoken South. The University they all attended sat near the Canadian border and, the young women unconditional to each other, dutifully every year traveled to the U.S.’s northern border to visit with a long forgotten movie star. To see the World through green/gray eyes that spoke volumes of dreams and romance was a challenge they dutifully undertook with smiles on their faces and breaths caught in their hearts.
The handsome man loved his sailboat and taught the girls (as he called them) to love much more than sailing – he had been quite the mentor. All his priorities and enthusiastic endeavors were eventually put to the side when he finally, after much planning, sailed away with at least three of 'the girls' to fulfill his quest. And charting his trip around the world four light years further, he made those who stayed behind, promise to follow suit and sail away themselves some day. Nikita had wondered out loud once she lost touch with every one of her extended family, if he ever finished his much discussed documentary, the one the girls assured her would be rated NC 17. How often since buying her own sailboat had Nikita remembered her friends, the movie star and the memories that would escort her dreams forever.
As a tribute to the handsome Canadian, Nikita also invested countless hours of very hard labor to restore the yacht to its former beauty and now on a daily basis received offers from boat enthusiasts to buy the vessel. She always found the attention comical for she paid a pittance for the craft and therefore laughed when the unsolicited offers from yacht brokers amounted to the high six figures. Even though her nest egg was dwindling, the millionaire offers to sell the boat never once tempted her, on the contrary she realized that holding-on to the yacht would be paramount to hitting the Lotto when and if she ever decided to rid of it.
The captain’s table she used to house every piece of paper concerning the boat, sat strewn with unpaid bills that she was quietly ignoring. The blonde beauty was aware that it was time to earn a living and as she stepped on the waxed wood deck of her sole asset, her monetary concerns were allayed in an instant. Little did Nikita Wirth know that her adventurous future was about to set sail.
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