Back to Friday Fictioneers at last…
The third day out, we saw something red far off. “It’s a beacon,” Jim said.
“So?” I was too seasick to care. “We don’t know what it means.”
“It means land. That’s good enough. Now, get up and help with the lines.”
Jim had me hopping back and forth across that little boat releasing ropes on one side and pulling them tight on the other while he zigzagged through the water. He swore that’s how sailboats travel. I told him it’s stupid.
Eventually we came close enough to see the derelict red house. “Beacon, huh?” I said. “Now what, genius?”
“Now?” he said tiredly. “Now I’m sick of you on my boat. Suppose you swim home.”