Time and tide wait for no man.
|“Good morning. ABC Construction Co.”
“Mr. Larsen, please.”
“Ohh, sorry, but he’s in a meeting. Probably for another hour. May I take a message?”
“Hmm… OK. Just tell him Sam’s Salvage rang and his car has floated back in.”
“His car has… WH-A-A-T?? From where? What ARE you talking about?”
The voice was smiling broadly. trying not to laugh.
“I’ll leave it to Mr. Larsen to tell you the details of how he came to bog his Veedub on Semaphore beach—” He interrupted himself with an explosion of laughter.
“But… ‘floated’, you said? Like, it went out to sea, and—”
“AND came back, amazingly close to where Mr. Larsen had to abandon it. Sadly it was too late us to rescue, and then it made sail on the high tide.” As I gasped, he continued. “Yep. Out to sea for the whole night. Floated, you know. Volksies can do that… if they’re locked up tight like a fish’s bum - uhrr, pardon my French, lass?”
I hung up and drifted into a daze, imagining that valiant little vehicle bobbing along through the dark, cold night, with ‘who knew how many’ fathoms of ocean beneath her.
At last, the questionable hero was at my desk to collect messages - and I was on a burning ‘need to know’ mission for answers when I said, "DO I have a message for you!" As he read the note, his suddenly flushed cheeks and slightly ‘hang-dog’ expression made it clear what was coming.
A girl was involved… of course! No further questioning necessary!
(Did I mention Old McLarsen was a handsome devil in those days? A real heart-breaker.
Seems this event was also a deal breaker!)