Indian Summer by Tracy Richardson Read Free Book Online Page B

laughing. His foot rests on his tackle box, and Pansy is sitting patiently on the grass beside him. When she sees Marcie, her tail thumps the ground.
    “Finally!” says Eric. “At least one of you is ready. Get your life jacket, and I’ll go over and get the tackle box from Al. Maybe he’ll take the hint.”
    “What’s the big hurry?”
    “No hurry, really, we just want to get going before lunch! Between you and Al, we might never get out.”
    Al, who has finished his conversation and is walking towards them, overhears Eric’s remark. “I can see you haven’t converted to ‘Lake Time’ yet. We try never to rush at the lake.” He hands Eric the tackle box and climbs into the boat. “Come on girl.” He gives Pansy’s leash a littletug, and she jumps in too. “Well, let’s go!” he says with a laugh at the surprised look on Eric’s face.
    Chagrined, Eric hangs his head self-mockingly. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be rushing. The fish will wait.” He and Marcie climb in and get settled. Al’s fishing boat is a low-sided metal boat with an outboard motor on the back. It’s pretty much low tech and no frills, with three bench seats, and one raised fisherman’s seat towards the front. Not like the powerful speedboat her grandparents own, with its comfortable seats and drink holders. Al sits in the stern to control the engine and steer. Eric and Drew are on the middle bench with the cooler snug beneath the seat, and Marcie is in the bow with Pansy. Al starts the engine and they idle out of the cove to the main lake. As they pass by the seawall of the neighboring cottages, Drew cries out “Look, Al, the turtles!” About twenty water turtles varying in size from babies as small as saucers in a child’s tea set to huge granddaddies as big around as serving platters are basking in the sun on the warm concrete. The boat isn’t passing close enough to startle them into the water, so they can see them clearly. From the front of the boat Marcie sees several turtles floating submerged in the water with only their tube-like noses sticking out on the surface.
    “Quick, Drew, there are some in the water over here.” She points to her right and even as she speaks they startdiving down into the murky depths to avoid the approaching boat.
    “This has been a good spring for turtles,” Al observes. “All the lake animals are flourishing. I’ll bet we see some muskrats in James Bay.”
    “Will they have babies, too?” asks Drew.
    “They just might. I saw some there last week.”
    “I like muskrats.”
    “So do I.”
    They pass the marker buoys indicating the end of the no-wake zone for boats, and Al opens up the engine and heads away from the shore. The nose of the boat rises up out of the water with the force of the propeller in the rear and then settles back down to plane on the surface as they get up to speed and go scudding across the waves.
    The larger scow sailboats are still out on the lake from the Sunday Regatta held earlier in the morning. Several have spinnaker sails out to catch an additional breeze as they sail for home. Marcie catches sight of a bright orange sail and has a jolt of recognition.
I’ve seen that boat from the air
, she thinks, but then remembers it was in her dream. It’s a little unsettling. She feels the way Michael described feeling about flying. Intellectually, she knows it was a dream and she didn’t actually fly, but it seems so real, even now in the light of day. Is it just a coincidence that she’shad the dream and imagined she was flying at the Fair? Marcie doesn’t know what to think.
    The smaller sunfish boats are racing now. Sunfish have one stationary sail that is usually brightly colored with large bold stripes. The sailors sit on the side of the boat with their feet in a small hollow in the center. There isn’t much room; only one or two adults can fit, but you really get to experience the wind and the waves. Sunfish sailing is Marcie’s favorite of the water