Stan and Toby depart as the world calls forth their duty; We joke of honey do list and our intrepid Toby being home twice out of the last 8 days; we watch them sail off and contemplate our day.
It is warm and the sun shines bright. We move from baking in the sun to playing in the chop effortlessly. With an in coming tide Marissa and I dart up to the edge of the channel and ride the tide back to our camp. We talk for hours, no subject taboo. I find myself saying a lot of no's as discussions of tattoos and piercings emerge. Marissa knows the answer before the question is asked; but she loves to stir the emotion attempting to get a rise. This has been a set up; her statement of being asked to senior prom appears less threatening; I have been played perfectly.
We talk of day paddling for tomorrow's adventure; we will skirt the lee shore of Shell Key looking for hidden treasures for those that dare to live life in the slow lane. We saw treasures alright, rays, jumping fish, and the allusive homosapien-nakedness.
Scared for life, scorched into the memory like a good scaled on fried chicken; we are privy to "naked man" fishing in all his glory. I dare not ask what he was using for bait; "Paddle on" Boo says, "don't look don't look"; like bugs drawn to a dim porch light, we fight the urge but can not look away.
to be continued...
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