The Storm

Chapter Fifteen

Another Run

T he old boat motor started up, and we were off with a puff of smoke and engine noise. The waters were calm this time and I knew that we would get to our destination much safer on this trip. There was no flowing, muddy water with cypress logs racing past us, or the boat bouncing off of submerged debris. The sun was out with a few scattered clouds. This was not as frightening as before. Clear sailing. I was strangely excited, yet relaxed, about the fact that I was quickly heading to my destination. It was cloudy far to the south, and I could see the huge, puffy cumulus clouds rising high into the atmosphere, high above Henry’s head. Henry sat with his hand on the throttle grip, leaning forward into the wind created by the forward motion of the boat. I knew that he was thinking that we had to beat the storm. It was either that, or how crazy it was to do this trip again with an even crazier reporter from Brooklyn. The waters were separated to both sides of the boat by the bow of the boat cutting through the water. My mind wandered briefly about Moses and the parting of the Red Sea, and I could tell Henry was pushing the old boat hard to get us in and get back out without a hitch. Henry hollered out over the noise of the boat, “We have about one more mile to go. I should have you there in no time if this old motor holds up. Keep your eyes out, boy!” I changed my position. And now,

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