Ambivalence returned two-fold. The result: an absolutely valid “I have a headache” excuse coupled with a rather cool roll-slide-and-spring. So here we were, still in bathing suits, him navigating into Ke"ehi Boat Harbor, me on a settee watching the horizon, silence once again proving golden.
Instead of requesting my assistance, he called to a beanstalk of a young man on the dock rummaging through a black metal tool kit and bobbing his head to a frenetic beat courtesy of an iPod. Grange, as he was called, worked at the boat club and appeared to know “Richie J” fairly well; they chatted and joked with ease.
It was only when we were moored and the dock lines secured that Cash and I once again exchanged words.
“Ready for dinner?” he asked nonchalantly.
In truth, I was hungry – famished – b
