by Cat Knight
“MANDY! GRAB THE LINE!”
Mandy didn’t move.
“MANDY! MANDY! GRAB THE LINE!”
There was no movement, and Darcy wondered just how she was going to save her friend. If she left the boat, Darcy was afraid the engines would fire up and take the boat miles away, leaving both her and Mandy in the cold sea. That was a recipe for disaster. They would both die. But she couldn’t leave Mandy behind either. Manoeuvring the boat close enough from the bridge seemed an impossible task considering her injuries. She wasn’t sure she could handle Mandy without two good arms.
“MANDY! MANDY! YOU HAVE TO GRAB THE LINE!”
As Darcy watched, Mandy looked around. Dazed, she reached out and grabbed the line. Darcy had never been so thankful for anything.
“HOLD ON!”
Darcy started the slow process of pulling Mandy to the boat. It was slow because Darcy wrapped the line around a cleat before she pulled in more. She wasn’t going to face the same problem again. It took minutes, but after a time, Mandy was bobbing next to the boat.
“Grab my hand,” Darcy said.
Mandy reached out and grabbed Darcy’s hand.
“I can only use one arm,” Darcy said. “So, you have to help.”
Mandy nodded.
It took all the strength Darcy could muster to haul Mandy over the edge. Then, Darcy grabbed the life jacket and simply fell back, letting her weight pull Mandy onto the deck. Mandy crashed beside Darcy. For a moment, they both were perfectly still, panting, Mandy soaked and shaking. Darcy closed her eyes to the pain and breathed deeply. Then, she opened her eyes and decided she didn’t have the luxury of time.
“There are dry clothes down below. Go change,” Darcy said. “Can you make it?”
“Thank you,” Mandy gasped. “I thought… I thought I was going to die.”
“No one is going to die on my watch,” Darcy said. “What do you think that would do to my reputation?”
Mandy rolled over and crawled toward the steps that led below.
“Don’t do anything until I get below.”
“I can barely move,” Darcy said. “You’re safe.”
As Mandy slipped below, Darcy pulled herself erect. She looked around as the boat gently rocked. What the bloody hell had just happened? How had she managed to almost kill her best friend? It was insane. She had a boat that had a mind of its own.
Or someone else’s mind. She wiped at her nose, which had started running from the cold wind. Her boat was haunted, she had to face it. But it couldn’t be. Ghosts aren’t real. Alright – Darcy, just calm down. It’s not haunted, but it’s definitely not in working condition. But hadn’t she just worked through all the systems?
Hadn’t she done her level best to make sure all parts were operating at optimal levels? If this was the best she could do, why did she think it would be better after the next go around? Doing the same thing over and over was insane, wasn’t it?
“Get off my boat!”
The voice made Darcy shiver. She shook from toes to ears. Unless she was crazy, Darcy knew the voice didn’t come from some novelty store device. While Mandy had a sense of humour, she would have to be one hell of an actress to pull this stunt off. And for what? Why would she. Not even Mandy would go as far as to throw herself in the ocean for a laugh. No, it was something else, and Darcy was more than a little afraid.
She struggled up the ladder to the bridge. She turned on the power system and started the engines. The compass pointed where it should. GPS pinpointed the boat with precision. She stared. How could this boat operate perfectly one moment and be completely screwed up the next? She had no answer, except for the one she didn’t want to entertain.
And she wasn’t sure there was another one. She unlashed the wheel and turned the boat toward home.
“Just get us back to dock” she said aloud.
“Scared, captain?”
Darcy visibly jumped but said no more.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
For Darcy, the return was a triumph as the engines stopped only twice, and the GPS worked the entire time.
The compass wasn’t so accommodating, but that couldn’t be helped - magnetic north changed every five minutes. Perhaps the best part was that the voice disappeared for the trip back to port. That was the highlight.
Chapter Nine
With Mandy’s help, Darcy docked the “Champagne Taste” and secured it. The decal had come loose in parts, one end partially removed. Soon, it would be lost. She ignored it and slung a plastic bag full of wet clothes over her shoulder, Mandy walked with Darcy away from the boat. Mandy’s hands shook badly. Mandy made no pretence about how she felt. She was going home, straight home, no stops allowed. Her encounter with the cold sea had scared her half to death. Nothing appealed to her except a hot bath and a glass of wine — maybe two glasses.
When they reached Mandy’s flat, Darcy kept hold of the wet clothes.
“What?” Mandy asked.
“My responsibility,” Darcy said. “After all, you were kind enough to come with me today.”
“You don’t have to. I wanted to come.”
“You didn’t want a dunking that almost killed you. Go soak. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You’re certain?”
“No, but if you don’t go inside, I just might change my mind.”
With a wan smile, Mandy disappeared inside her flat. Hefting the bag of clothes, Darcy marched on.
For Mandy’s sake, Darcy had tried to maintain a modicum of courage. Alone, Darcy admitted to herself that the sojourn had been utterly hair raising. How in the hell had that happened? Could it be that she really was that incompetent or just plain unlucky? Or worse, much worse, was it something different?
She didn’t know, and for the moment she just didn’t wish to speculate. And she didn’t wish to ask herself just who kept hailing her.
She reached home and started the laundry before she poured herself a glass of red wine. She poured herself a second one before she folded Mandy’s clean clothes. The second glass helped her sleep.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
On her way to deliver the laundry, Darcy bought bagels. She deemed breakfast the least she could do. Mandy answered the door and looked the worse for wear. Still in her pyjamas, Mandy objected to Darcy’s generosity, but the objection was perfunctory and weak. Darcy knew Mandy more than welcomed the company.
The scars of the day before were still fresh. Being alone didn’t help them heal faster.
While Darcy made tea, Mandy found plates and marmalade for the bagels.
It wasn’t long before they were sipping and nibbling at the kitchen table. At the first sip, Mandy’s face brightened. Darcy was encouraged. If there was anything Darcy prayed for, it was the swift recovery of her friend. A brush with death wasn’t easily shaken off.
They didn’t start off chatting about the boat ride. They skirted that issue until the second cup of tea arrived and the first bagel was consumed.
“All right,” Mandy said as she sipped. “I know you came to see how I’m doing. But you also want to talk about what happened. I don’t blame you.”
“What happened was beyond weird. It was bizarre. Things went so wrong so quickly. The systemic problems can be identified and corrected, but it’s the voice that baffles me. Are you sure you didn’t install some nautical phrase generator?” Darcy regretted the words immediately, she knew she was clutching at straws anyway.
Mandy’s face grew dark.
“Even if I knew where to find such a thing, how would I ever figure out where to hide it? No, Darcy, I can’t take credit for that… voice. To tell you the truth, it was in my dreams last night. And so was drowning.”
She spat the last words out.
“You have no idea how sorry I am about that. If I could go back a day, I would. You would never set foot on the boat.”
Mandy nibbled on a second bagel, her face flushed and Darcy could tell the question was coming.
“So, where exactly do you thi
nk that voice came from?” Mandy’s voice was accusing.
Darcy gripped her tea cup with both hands.
“I frankly don’t know. That’s why I asked you, because believe it or not, I was still sort of hoping it was you.”
“Oh, thanks.”
“You know what I mean. If it was you, well, that might be annoying, but it wouldn’t be mysterious. Even a poor joke is still a joke.”
“But it wasn’t me. Anyone else you know?”
“I’ve kept the boat pretty quiet. I wasn’t prepared for a bunch of people to hit me up for a joy ride on the briny.”
“The former owner? I mean, maybe it was some kind of strange companion for boating alone. You know, like having a talking parrot on your shoulder.”
Darcy smiled. The first smile since the sorry dunking and near drowning. Mandy’s near death had frightened her badly and she didn’t want to be squabbling.
“You’ve seen too many pirate movies. There would be no reason to leave the device on the boat without telling me. And despite my efforts, I haven’t been able to find the voice generator. And you heard it. Where do you think it came from?”
“I have no idea. Do you think we hallucinated or something?”
“Both of us? I don’t think so. We weren’t on drugs or even alcohol. We had no reason to make up something.”
Mandy gulped and took in a deep breath.
“If you want to know the truth,” Mandy said. “I think there is something totally weird about that boat. I’m not prepared to say what — because if I start thinking of really weird things, you’ll think I’m crazy. But the boat isn’t normal. That sounds daft all by itself. How can a boat qualify as normal or abnormal? Those aren’t nautical terms, are they?”
“Shipshape is the term I would love to use to describe the boat, but I’m certain that boat is not shipshape.”
“Well, it’s NOT normal. It’s bloody abnormal.”
Darcy looked lost. “Abnormal? I’m not prepared to go there either, at least I don’t want to. But we both know that what happened to us was not business as usual. Something else was controlling the boat. Something else tried to drown you.”
Mandy’s face paled, and Darcy wondered if she had opened the fresh wound.
“I don’t mean actually trying to drown you,” Darcy said quickly making it up as she went. “I mean, it threw you overboard. After all, you were wearing a life vest. If it had actually tried to drown you, it would have tossed you over earlier. Right? So, it doesn’t seem like it really tried to kill you.”
“That’s comforting.”
“You know what I’m trying to say. But I don’t want to even believe that. I want to believe that the boat isn’t wilful, that it can’t decide what to do. It has to be some combination of systemic problems and bad luck.”
“The voice is not bad luck. Face it, Darcy, the boat is weird. Why it’s weird isn’t known. But the question is whether or not you can find the cause before something truly terrible happens.”
“I have to find it. I can’t very well take out charters when the boat won’t perform as advertised.”
The two women stared at each other.
“You’re going to have to do something,” Mandy said.
“Indeed,” Darcy answered. “I have to get to the bottom of this thing.”
“Good luck!”
Chapter Ten
Darcy looked across the desk at the fat, bald man as he stroked his thin moustache. Bart wasn’t the kind of person she was apt to trust for anything more than a pint poured from a bottle opened in front of her. He possessed a smarmy smile and an oily sheen. She was reminded of the person who always stepped back when someone asked for volunteers. Let the other guy take all the risks. Bart was too clever to lead the way.
“Did you know about the voice?” Darcy asked.
“Voice?”
He smiled again, and she noticed how his eyes roamed over her. It wasn’t as if she was wearing anything sexy. Well, not that sexy. She had fielded her share of friendly once-overs, and most of the time, it was simply that testosterone evaluation.
Was she that hot?
Was she available?
Do I really have a chance with her?
“Don’t play dumb,” she said. “You know all about the voice. That’s why you sold the boat so cheap.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“There are laws about being forthright when selling something. I don’t want to start legal proceedings, but I’m prepared to do so. Now, tell me about the voice.”
The smarmy smile disappeared, replaced by an almost-genuine one.
“I admit that the previous owner mentioned something about hearing voices, but I attributed that to fanciful thinking.”
She rolled her eyes.
“What kind of fanciful thinking?”
“You know. To some people, seagulls sound like children. The wind through the lines sounds like a whisper. At sea, people hear all sorts of things.”
“Are you going to tell me the truth, or do I have to file something that will be in all the papers?’
He rubbed his face a moment.
“I think you’ll find that for sheer belief in superstitions and ghosts, sailors surpass any other group. They can’t turn around without invoking some saying or prayer. I guess that comes with trying to sail untamed seas.”
“The boat?”
Darcy placed her hand firmly on his desk and fixed him with her best stare.
“Yes, the boat. People think it’s haunted.”
“How so?”
“Things work some of the time but not all the time. The engines cut out sometimes. The GPS system doesn’t always give true directions. The radio fails — and come right back on.”
“Electrical glitches?”
“In spades. But that’s not all. Cold drafts below deck where there couldn’t be a draft. Moans and groans. Dimming lights, mists, voices, it all happens on this boat.”
“And you never thought to tell me?” Darcy let the words drip with annoyance.
Bart shrugged. “It was a good deal. And I don’t believe in ghosts.”
“A ghost, that’s what it is?”
“The previous owner thought so.”
“Who was the previous owner?”
“You’re not exactly entitled to that information.”
“Tell me.”
Bart didn’t have to look in his files. He nodded. “The last owner was George Tennet. I bought the boat from him.”
“Where does he live?”
Bart smiled, the smarmy smile, and Darcy knew she had to pay attention.
“Look, you don’t have to bother him. He said the boat had a ghost as an unwanted passenger. What more do you need?”
“Where does he live?”
“I’ll write it down.” Bart scribbled a note. “Personally, I don’t believe in ghosts, especially on boats. But I guess people need something to blame when things go wrong.”
“I’ll remember that.”
Darcy took the note and left, knowing he watched her walk out. Better him than some unseen ghost.
Chapter Eleven
The pub was loud as the after-work crowd arrived. Sitting in a booth, Darcy wondered what it was about work that drove people to a nightly drink. Did stone-age people return from the hunt and grab whatever had fermented in a jug? She had read somewhere that fruit sometimes fermented after it fell from the tree. Didn’t birds and bees and other creatures get drunk? Or had that been just another excuse some bloke had foisted on her one night? She couldn’t remember, and it didn’t matter.
While she hadn’t come in after a day in the salt mines, she did appreciate the pint in front of her. More, she appreciated Mandy who had come out of her flat. To Darcy’s way of thinking, getting out of the house as soon as possible was good for the mental state. Mandy was already through her first pint. Darcy couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad omen.
“I know it seems impossible,
and you don’t believe in ghosts, and I don’t suppose I ever did really either, not really…” Mandy said. “but how do you explain what happened out there?”
“I can’t. I mean, I… can’t.” Darcy answered.
“I think that you have a genuine spirit on your hands. Have you thought to confirm anything with previous owners?”
“I’m going to pay them a visit tomorrow. But do you have any idea how ignorant this sounds? I mean, what should I do, find a priest willing to perform an exorcism?”
“Not a bad idea now that you mention it. Although, I’m not sure an exorcism would work. Aren’t they for demons and devils?”
“As if our ghost isn’t evil? It tried to kill you.”
“I thought you said it didn’t.”
Darcy’s face was glum. Since the conversation with Bart, her ideas on what ‘the boat’ might and might not be capable of, had taken a darker turn.
“I don’t know anything anymore. The bloke who sold the boat said the previous owners swore it was haunted. Of course, he says he doesn’t believe in ghosts. But face it Mandy, you could very easily have drowned.
In fact, if I’m honest… I’m forced to admit I think that was the intention. I’m really, really, sorry I got you involved. You only came because I was spooked and look what happened.
Mandy shuddered.
“Who knows! I know it scared the crap out of me but if it really did try to kill me… I mean, if it really wanted me dead, why didn’t it just run over me?”
“Because I was there to prevent it. If I hadn’t been there…”
Darcy didn’t finish the thought. Mandy bit her lip for a moment.
“Let’s not argue about who did what or prevented what. Let’s think about getting that ghost off the boat.”
“Are you going to help?”
Darcy sipped her ale.
