Bogart the Boat Salesman's Arc

Chapter 7 of 10

Bogart tied the runabout off and stood on the dock for a long minute. The scrape on the new boat's rail bothered him less than the thought behind it. One crew member was not a crew. He needed a backup, and he needed one before the next call, not after. He walked up to the boathouse and found Diane at the fuel pump, wiping grease off her hands with a rag. She wore her work shirt and heavy boots. Her hair was pulled back tight. She had been his one favor, then his one partner, and she was still only one person. "You missed a live one," Bogart said. "Drunk driver. Went over. I fished him out alone." Diane grimaced. "I was at the hospital with my mother. Phone was off." She looked at the scrape on the rail. "You can't keep doing solo pulls, Bogart." "That's why I'm asking. Is there anyone you'd trust on that deck if you couldn't be there?" Diane thought about it. Then she pulled her phone from her pocket and made a call. Twenty minutes later a small SUV parked on the gravel and a young woman climbed out. Purple hoodie, jeans, sneakers already wrong for a dock. She had Diane's eyes and about half her weight. "My sister," Diane said. "Denise. She lifeguarded three summers at the town pool. She knows CPR and she can swim better than I can." Denise stuck her hand out. "Diane says you need a spare." Bogart shook her hand. It was smaller than he wanted, but the grip was steady. "I need someone who won't freeze when a man goes under. Can you drive a boat?" "Not like her," Denise said, nodding at her sister. "But I can learn the helm. And I can pull a body out of the water. I've done it twice." Bogart looked at Diane. Diane nodded once. He took Denise down to the slip. He put a vest on himself and buckled it in front of her, the way he did with every buyer. Then he handed her one and watched her clip it right the first time. Good sign. He walked her through the throttle, the kill switch, the radio, the boarding ladder. She asked where the bailing bucket was stowed before he pointed to it. By sundown he had run her through two mock pulls off the dock. She was slow on the throttle and quick on the line. He could work with that. Bogart handed Diane a second spare key and told her to give it to her sister. "On-call," he said. "Same as you. If Diane can't come, you come." Denise pocketed the key. Bogart looked at the new boat in its slip. Two names on the crew list now. Not enough for a real service, but enough that no one would drown while he waited for Diane to answer her phone.