Chapter 31
Ric rose early, before first light. Toast and a pot of coffee. Where was that thermos? He’d stowed his old fishing gear in the boat the night before. Ric fed the chooks and geese. Searched out Max’s leather-bound hip flask and filled it with bourbon. Nothing left but to pack the esky and head off.
The boat sped along the dark water, transforming its tranquil surface into a choppy wake. The lantern cast a circle of light, bordered by mist. Pale stars still shone, small and faraway, and a skinny moon shivered in the sky. Ric watched the water, and hunched his shoulders against the unfamiliar chill of autumn air. Did he expect to find his father? Hardly. This trip was a pilgrimage of farewell.
Ric came upon the confluence of the Kingfisher. He turned up the wild waterway to find
