Tooner Schooner Read Online Free

legal complication of some kind. There is some organization that you are avoiding. You are keeping out of their way on purpose. Have you been bringing in rum, Captain?” Miss Tinkham smiled.
    “No’m. But you’re gettin’ warm! Keep on.”
    “After the sudden success, there is a slump which will be hard to explain. Things will look very black for a while, but you must never despair, for you have a good Karma. There is a point coming in your life when everything will be lost…material possessions, everything. Even then, you must not lose hope, because you have coming to you the one thing without which nothing in the world has any meaning or value: true love. Never give up the ship, because every line in your hand ends in a star. No matter which way you turn, no matter how black things look for you…it is written: you are born to have your heart’s desire.”
    “An’ she could a told you all that there about the boat an’ everythin’ if you’d a walked in here off the street without her ever havin’ seen you before, not knowing if you was a bus driver or soda jerk,” Mrs. Feeley said proudly.
    “Enough to set you thinkin’. You could cash in on that,” the captain said.
    Miss Tinkham shook her head and smiled. “It’s a gift, not a grift.”
    “I thank you,” Captain Dowdy said. “Funny about that stuff…kinda like somebody of another religion prayin’ for you: can’t do no harm an’ might possibly do some good.”
    At the all-night market, Mrs. Rasmussen bustled about making her selections, with the captain carrying the bundles respectfully.
    “Don’t spare the bosses,” he said. “Kinda fun, this takin’ on stores, ent it?”
    “Shopping is delightful,” Miss Tinkham agreed. “With Mrs. Rasmussen it’s a magnificent adventure, the very stuff of life.”
    When the cab drew up at the dock, the ladies helped him unload. He stepped aboard and unlocked the hatch for them.
    “I’ll tend the stuff. Go below.”
    “We’re helpin’,” Mrs. Rasmussen said stubbornly.
    Miss Tinkham wrestled with a beer carton and murmured to Mrs. Feeley, “I think it is Elijah who tells us that the widow’s cruse is not to be dry.”
    “I’m makin’ damn sure this cruise ain’t,” Mrs. Feeley laughed and took a beer carton under each arm.

Chapter 3
     
    N EXT MORNING, SATURDAY , Mrs. Feeley and Mrs. Rasmussen stepped out of the trailer at the parking lot clad in borrowed dungarees and sweat shirts. Miss Tinkham wore black velvet pirate pants and a shocking pink jersey cardigan trimmed lavishly with beads. Darleen had shot the works, including an uplift bra that made Miss Tinkham’s breasts stand out like two empty spools.
    “Captain won’t know his old pants, bulging at the seams like this, will he?” Mrs. Feeley said to Mrs. Rasmussen.
    “Not hardly. But weren’t it lucky that Darleen’s britches fit Miss Tinkham?”
    “They are truly exotic,” Miss Tinkham beamed, “and appropriate.” Miss Tinkham’s feet were the final tribute to high fashion. She wore Roman sandals of patent leather with a thong of tiger skin between her big toes. In honor of the occasion she had encrusted her toenails thickly with dark red polish. “I think we could have stayed up half the night talking to the captain. He is simply fascinating.”
    “Free with the beer, too,” Mrs. Feeley said.
    “He ain’t bad.” Mrs. Rasmussen’s face was very pink.
    “Don’t gush,” Miss Tinkham laughed.
    Captain Dowdy was counting the life preservers in a pile on the deck. He gleamed as though scoured with yellow soap. His khaki pants and shirt were creased to a knife edge and his cap was at a salty rake.
    “Here we are,” Mrs. Feeley shouted, “clean and sober.”
    The captain helped them aboard and turned to Mrs. Rasmussen.
    “Made you a fire in the Shipmate. Bear a hand with these Mae Wests.” He handed the life jackets to Miss Tinkham.
    Before Mrs. Feeley could figure out how it happened, she had a cellulose sponge