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Savannah, Georgia - Mile 583

“Nick?”

Nick turned around, startled to hear his name called.  Coming down the dock from the direction of the office was Pete.

Nick nodded at Pete.  He lifted the bag of garbage.  “I was just on my way to dump this.”

Shit, thought Nick.  What am I doing?  Apologizing for being here?  That’s weird.

Pete didn’t say anything.  He just nodded.  Then he stopped walking.  The sounds of retching were still coming from the boat.

“Is she okay?”  Nick mouthed the words.

Pete shrugged and rolled his eyes.  He spread his hands in a ‘what can I do?’ gesture.

Nick shook his head in sympathy.  Yeah, what more could the guy do?

Suddenly, Pete spoke.  “So, Nick,” he said loudly, “you’re just like the bad penny!  You keep turning up.”

The retching noises ceased.

“Yeah, I guess,” said Nick, raising his voice a little but not quite as loud as Pete’s, “but I guess that makes sense, since we’re both following the same route.”  Nick felt like he was defending himself for some reason.

“Of course, it makes sense,” said Pete.  “It happens all the time.  So did you spend last night in Beaufort?  Where did you stay?”

“Lady’s Island Marina,” said Nick.  “What about you guys?”

“We moored offshore.  We didn’t have any reason to go ashore, and why pay dockage rates if you don’t have to?”

“True,” said Nick.  “Of course, the rich bastard from Fort Lauderdale would cover that, wouldn’t he?”

Pete laughed.  “I didn’t say I wouldn’t be putting in for it.  I just said I didn’t pay it.”

“Oh, I get it,” said Nick, with a laugh.  He stopped laughing abruptly when he heard a sound behind him.  He turned to look at the boat.

Jordana stood on the  back deck.  She looked awful.  She was even thinner than before.  Her long hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her skin was paper thin.  Nick could see the blue lines of veins on her face and neck.  Her eyes looked huge.  Nick remembered Pete saying that…she was ‘all eyes’.

“Hey, Nick,” said Jo, in a weak voice.  “Nice to see you again.”  She leaned on the railing and seemed to have difficulty standing up.

“Nice to see you too,” replied Nick.  “Are you okay?”

“I can’t shake this bug that’s got a hold of me.  That’s all.  I can’t seem to keep anything down.”

Nick heard a noise from behind him.  He wasn’t sure if the grunt from Pete was concern or disgust.  And he sure didn’t know what he was supposed to say at this point.

“Are you hungry?”

The question hung in the air.  Nick felt like an idiot for asking it, but after all, he wasn’t even supposed to know about her eating disorder.  And it was dinner time…

“I’m starving,” said Jo, “but I’m afraid to eat anything.  I’ve been living on herbal tea.”

“What about the shakes?” asked Nick.

“No, I don’t have the shakes,” replied Jordana.  “Just the throwing up.”

Before Nick could explain that he meant the daily milkshakes, Pete stepped in.

“You should try to eat.  Do you want me to make you something, Jo?  Some toast, maybe?”

“Actually, I’d like to get off the boat,” she said.  “I’d like to set foot on land again.  Maybe that’s the problem.  Maybe I’m seasick.”

Jet lag.  The flu.  Hormones.  And now seasickness.  Man, the girl had a story for everything, thought Nick.

“I was just on my way to the restaurant,” he said,  “You guys want to come?”

“You bringing your own food along?” asked Jordana, with a small smile, pointing at the plastic bag in Nick’s hand.

“Nah,” laughed Nick, “there’s a dumpster up that way.  I thought I’d drop off the garbage.”

“Good idea,” said Pete.  He stepped past Nick onto the boat.  “Wait here,” he said to Jordana, and he disappeared below decks.

“Nick…”  Jo’s voice dropped to a whisper.

“Yeah?”

“Nick, I need…”   Jordana stopped talking.  She looked down into the galley.  Then she looked back at Nick.  “I need to get off this boat.”

“Here you go,” said Nick, reaching out a hand.  “Careful now.”

Jordana took his hand and let him help her up onto the dock.  “No, I mean…”

“Okay, got it,” said Pete, heartily.  He lifted a black, plastic trash bag. “It doesn’t take long to generate a bunch of garbage, does it?”

He stepped off the boat and placed himself between Nick and Jordana.  “Okay, where’s this dumpster?”

“Up there,” said Nick, pointing out the blue metal box up by the road.

They made their way there and threw the bags of trash into the dumpster.  It wasn’t much further to the restaurant.  Since it was early, they were seated immediately.  Jordana ordered toast and tea.  Nick and Pete decided to split a pizza.

Pete peppered Nick with questions, asking him about what he’d seen on the way and where he’d stopped and what was that like?  In between bites of pizza, Nick described his travels, and when he wound down, Pete took up the tale, talking about birds and flowers and shoals and bridges. 

Jo said nothing, but she seemed to be listening intently.

Nick wondered what was going on.  Should he ask about Mickey?  Neither of them had brought it up.  

“I liked your solo album,” said Jo, suddenly breaking into the nature lecture Pete was giving.

“Thanks,” said Nick.

“Especially the first single.  That was my favorite,” said Jo.  She turned away from Nick without waiting for a reaction.  “So Pete, why didn’t you point out all this spectacular wildlife to me?”

“You were sunbathing on the front deck when we passed the birds,” said Pete.  “I thought you were asleep.  What first single?”

Nick opened his mouth to answer, but Jo got there first.  “It was called Do I Have to Cry for You.  It was what they call a scorching ballad.”  She turned back to Nick.  “You wrote it, didn’t you?”  Her eyes bore into his.

“Uh, yeah, I did,” said Nick, "but..."

Jo cut him off and turned back to Pete.  “That toast was delicious.  I think I might try some soup.  Is that our waitress?  Miss!?”

Now it was Jo’s turn to chatter.  She ordered chicken noodle soup and more toast and prattled on about how the broth might settle her stomach down a bit.  Maybe there’d be soda crackers with it.  Yeah, that would help.  Soda crackers.  Toast and soup and soda crackers.

“Mickey’s not coming,” she said suddenly.

It took Nick a second to process what she’d said, since she’d dropped it into the middle of nowhere.

“Really?” asked Nick.  “That’s too bad.”

“She can’t come, you see,” said Jo.

“She’s too busy at work,” said Pete, jumping into the conversation.  “She finally said just to give up on her…not count on her getting here.  We’ll deliver the boat and go back home.  It’s too bad…”

“I guess you’ll have to come up with another plan for the…” 

Nick stopped talking.  He didn’t know if Jo knew about Pete’s plans to propose to Mickey on the boat.

“Yeah, I guess,” said Pete, cutting across Nick’s words. 

Nick nodded.  Okay, he got it.

Pete smiled and nodded, happy that Nick had caught on quickly.

“Another plan for what…?” asked Jordana.

“A vacation,” said Pete.  “Poor Mickey!  She works so hard.  This would have been a good vacation for her.”

Jo looked skeptical.  She didn’t seem to be finding it a good vacation.  She turned back to Nick.  “I still haven’t talked to her on the phone.  She always seems to call when I’m asleep or…”  She stopped, searching for a word.

“…indisposed.”  Pete filled it in for her.  “Yeah, it’s bad timing, I know.  But you don’t want Mickey to know you’re ‘sick’ again, do you?” 

Nick noticed the mental quotation marks around the word ‘sick’.  He wondered if Jo would.  Would she know that Nick knew about her condition?  What would she say if she knew?

“Why not?” asked Jo.

Okay, that was weird, thought Nick.  He thought everything was supposed to be a big secret.  Maybe it was only supposed to be a big secret from him.

“So how far do you think you’ll get tomorrow, Nick?” asked Pete, ignoring Jo’s question.

Nick hadn’t really thought about it, and he decided that he wouldn’t tell Pete anyway.  If the guy was going to avoid him, let him figure out the way himself.

“I don’t really know,” said Nick, “but this area of the Waterway is tricky.   There are a lot of shoals.”

“I know,” said Pete.  He turned to Jordana.  “The Intracoastal is a federal waterway but when it was formed, all the states along it agreed to keep it dredged to a depth of twelve feet.  It was mostly commercial traffic then, and nobody wanted any boats running aground and dumping God knows what into the water.”

“Okay,” said Jordana, “what’s the problem?”

“Georgia hasn’t had as much economic success as some states,” said Pete. 

Nick thought that was a pretty tactful way of saying the state was dirt-poor. 

Pete continued talking, “and one of the things that they’ve slipped up on is the Waterway.  It’s still okay, I mean, there’s nothing under six feet, and most of it is at least nine…”

“That won’t be a problem for either of our boats,” said Nick, reassuringly.  “It’s just that some of the passages will be narrow and maybe crowded.”

Jo nodded. 

Pete called for the check and didn’t stop talking until they were back at the marina office.

“I go this way,” said Nick, pointing down to the Lenore. “I’ll see you later…or maybe not.”  He laughed.  “I think I’m going to go flex my fingers on my guitar for awhile.”

“Play your first single,” said Jo.

Pete laughed.  “Do you think a…what did you call it, Jo?…a scorching ballad…do you think that might be welcome here in the peace and quiet?”

“I wasn’t going to sing,” said Nick.  “I was just going to play…and by the way, my first…”

Jo cut him off.  “Okay, well, have fun with that then.  C’mon Pete.  Let’s go.”

She took Pete by the elbow and turned him down the dock.

Nick watched them go.  Jeez!  What kind of fan was she? he wondered.  He knew that Now or Never hadn’t been a huge commercial success, but how could Jo have completely missed the first single?  It wasn’t Do I Have to Cry For You?  It was Help Me.  And it had done okay. 

Nick shrugged and turned for his boat.

Help Me.

He stopped walking. 

Help me.

Nick turned back to look at Pete and Jo.  Pete was talking again, his arms moving through the air. Jordana was looking back…looking at Nick…and her face begged for understanding.

Nick nodded slowly.  He wasn’t sure why.  ‘Cause he didn’t have the first friggin’ clue what she was trying to tell him.

Except…

...Help me.