Home > By The Light of Dawn(9)

By The Light of Dawn(9)
Author: Adrienne Wilder

“Fish and Game in Durstrand. Fish and Wildlife Conversation Committee here in Florida. They inspect boats that aren’t manufactured and over sixteen feet. But it’s been inspected and licensed at home. Will from the tag office and Janet from Fish and Game. Tell the property manager to call Janet. Or Will. He could fax them a copy of the inspection.”

“I would but the manager is gone for the day.”

Morgan shook his head. “The Starry Night doesn’t need to be inspected.”

“If it only takes an inspection to get the boat in the water, what will it hurt?”

Morgan tossed thoughts.

“I’ll call the company that owns the property and see if that will do.” I started to pick up the cell phone.

Morgan beat me to it. “I can call.”

“Okay. You call. You got the number?”

“It’s in the directory. Phone book is on the internet. Internet is on the phone.”

I seriously needed to read the manual for that thing.

Morgan opened an app, flipped through a few pages, then highlighted the number. The screen darkened and he put the phone to his ear

It rang.

“Yes,” Morgan said. “I’m here at the Sunside dock and storage with my sailboat. The property manager wouldn’t let the transport company put the boat in the water because it needs to be inspected by FWC. But it was inspected back home by Janet from Fish and Game and Will from the tag office. It’s registered out of state. It doesn’t need to be registered here.” He tapped his knuckles against his temple. “Yes.”

Faint hold music played through the tinny speakers. It died.

“Hello, Angela, my name is Morgan Kade-Kessler. I’m here at Sunside dock and boat storage to put my boat in the water. But the dock manager said I couldn’t because it needs to be inspected.” Morgan rocked. “Eighty-eight thirty-three, Waters Way, Durstrand, Georgia.” The tic in Morgan’s arm pulled harder and his fight to control it cut lines down his neck.

Dog leaned forward from the back seat and rested his head on Morgan’s shoulder.

“Yes. Friday the eighth.” Morgan gave the address of the dock again. “No, the men with the transport company brought the boat. We came later. The boat’s supposed to be in the water but the dock manager wouldn’t let them. He says it needs to be inspected. It doesn’t. He’s wrong.” Morgan shook his head. “That’s not what the law says.” He gripped the edge of his shirt and twisted the fabric in his fist. “I read the rules. That’s not what the rules said. The insurance company is wrong. No, I don’t work for the state of Florida, but I read the rules. I read them on the internet when I went to the library. No, I read them on the state website where the laws are posted. No, I didn’t read them wrong. The insurance company is wrong.”

I fought the urge to take the phone from him and talk to the attendant myself. But I’d learned a long time ago that not respecting Morgan’s independence was not respecting him.

“If I can find someone to inspect it, will you let me put it in the water?” Morgan lifted his chin. His mouth twitched and he clenched his eyes shut. “But if I find someone to inspect it. It’s licensed in Georgia. It doesn’t need to be licensed in Florida.” He gritted his teeth. “I did get the correct forms. I filled them out. I mailed it. I have the receipt. I got the correct forms, and the dock manager is wrong.” His voice cracked, taking on a sharp edge. “No. Whoever said that is wrong. Then you’re wrong. Then the computer is wrong.” Morgan huffed and a whine leaked from behind his clenched teeth. “I’m not. No, no, I’m not. I’m just stating the facts. I’m—” He tapped the edge of the phone to the side of his head.

Dog whined and licked his cheek.

“She hung up on me.” Morgan clutched the phone to his chest, bumping it against his sternum as if fighting his body for ownership. “She said I was rude and hung up on me.” He got his hand to his lap. “I wasn’t rude. I told the truth. She was wrong. Her computer was wrong. The dock manager was wrong. I was right. I read the laws, Grant.” Morgan looked at me, his gaze slipping to my shoulder, but the pain in his eyes still bright. “I did what I was supposed to do.”

“I believe you.”

He nodded then shook his head. “She didn’t. She said I was rude. She said I was wrong.” His hold on the phone tightened enough to whiten his knuckles. Dog climbed partway over the console to stick his head in Morgan’s lap. His wayward hand found the dog’s ears. He gripped them, then let them go and gripped them again. If it hurt, the animal didn’t react. Slowly, oh so slowly, the involuntary movements stopped in much the same way they did when he slipped away.

“Did she say whether or not we could put it in the water if we got it inspected?”

Morgan petted Dog.

I pushed back his bangs, but his gaze was far away.

“Morgan?”

“She said it would have to be inspected and licensed. But that’s not right.”

“Like I said, if it will get the boat in the water, we can get it re-inspected and licensed here. Maybe someone at the licensing office would have more sense than the person who answered the phone for the dock company.”

“DMV office is open at nine closes by five Monday through Thursday. Four on Friday. Today is Friday, so they’re already closed.”

“Then we’ll find someone else.”

“The inspection has to be done by FWC. Then it can be registered. She said the FWC can have up to a ten-day wait to look at the Starry Night.” His shoulder jerked. “I have to have the boat in the water sooner than that, Grant.”

“Then we can go to City Hall Monday and see if there isn’t a way to verify your paperwork.”

Morgan pulled away. He abandoned the phone in his lap and sank the fingers of both hands into the folds of Dog’s hide, opening and closing his grip, letting the fur slip between them. “And if they don’t believe me?”

“Like you said, she’s wrong, the computer is wrong, and the manager is wrong. If we go to City Hall, they’re more likely to have the correct information or be willing to at least check. Then they can clear this up.”

“What if they can’t? What if they won’t?”

“Then we can rent a hotel room and wait till FWC can look it over. I don’t mind.”

“We have to get the boat out sooner than that. If we have to wait ten days, it won’t matter.”

“Why not?”

“It will be too late, that’s all I know.”

Morgan told me once the light moves so fast it has already been where we were going. It’s how he knew Dillion would come after him years before it happened. I’d doubted Morgan then, and part of me wanted to question him now because it still seemed impossible.

But Morgan had already proven over and over again how impossible meant nothing to him by the hurdles he cleared, the things he accomplished, whether restoring the farmhouse we lived in from the ground up, creating sculptures that bent light in an attempt to let the world hear what it communicated, or building a boat by hand.

“What if we rent a boat?”

“No. The Starry Night is stronger.”

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