“Maybe two. Given the uncertainty of a return date, I winterized the boats in my slip on the southeast side of Chokoloskee. Little more than a rickety dock where I moored Gone Fiction and raised Jody out of the water on a motorized lift. I left the batteries charging and paid a kid named Lenny, who lived in a trailer on the docks working the bait shack, a few bucks to keep the pelicans from crapping on either and to wash the boats when they did. He nodded and took my money. I keep an old Dodge d...iesel truck in storage. I crank it enough to charge the batteries but really only use it to tow Jody. I raised the storage unit door and pulled the truck out. Katie and Steady climbed in. She wiped the dust off the dash, adjusted the AC vents and the thermostat. “Why do you drive a diesel?” “I like it.” Another adjustment to the vent. “So you’re one of those people.” “What kind is that?” She fiddled with the thermostat, talking to herself. “Cold or hot, make up your mind.” She turned back to me.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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