Thirteen
Bouncing Baby Bullmastiff
I make sure to wipe the awe off my face before Rupert sees it as the ferry eases into her spot. Sand-and-rock beaches cuffed by lush forest stretch in either direction of the new, state-of-the-art marina, the northern shore arching around and out of sight as it morphs into a high-walled, rocky outcropping topped by more woods. These beaches would be amazing for bonfires—like English Bay, only wider, and no people. I’m not even sure if we’re allowed bonfires here … probably too much smoke or happiness for the ozone layer.
Our gathering heads back down to the vehicle deck, but the lawyers aren’t actually disembarking—they took this midday meeting as a courtesy after the earlier meeting was postponed by my head cold. I’d thank them for their accommodation
