“Abanks!” Isabel whispered loudly. The buzzing noise died.
“Abanks!” he stated once more.
“Where the hell are you?” got here the reply.
“Over right here. Under the pier. Hurry, dammit!”
The hum grew louder, and Abanks parked an 8-foot rubber raft beneathneath the pier. They swung from the brace and landed in a single joyous pile. They quietly hugged every different, then hugged Abanks. He revved up the 5-horsepower electric powered trolling motor and headed for open water.
“Where have you ever been?” Isabel requested.
“Cruising,” Abanks spoke back nonchalantly.
“Why are you overdue?”
“I’m overdue due to the fact I’ve been dodging those fishing boats packed with idiots in traveler garments posing as fishermen.”
“You assume they’re Moroltos or Fibbies?” Lincoln requested.
“Well, in
