supplicium post mortem

the freighter channel – w4m – 16

You helped us just in time yesterday, tossing us a line, yelling at my bickering crew to shut up and untangle the spinnaker, towing us out of the channel before those great lake freighters got too close. I was at the tiller, the one you called Pippi.

I’m not as young as I look. I’m starting 10th grade in September; most of my classes are with Juniors. I liked your boat, your beat-up polo shirt, your dimples, your accent, and your confident command when you told the jokers at the bow of my flying junior: “sort yourselves out!” My cousins are from England. Nicholas looks your age and goes to a school where they still get the cane.

I didn’t pick my crew; we get assigned. I hate those guys. I’m a better sailor than that. I think I’m too scared to be a great sailor, though, like my dad. I’m too scared to kiss a boy, and anyway my mother would kill me.

I haven’t seen your boat around, but if you’re ever at the Pier, stop by the snack bar and let me get you a milkshake. Maybe you could give me bravery lessons, like they give boys in England. You could teach me how to run a fast beat rail down, how to punch someone in the jaw, how to sneak out after dark and take the cane without yelping. I’m scared of capsizing, but if I was in your boat, I’d do it.

Check out other missed connections this week:

• Travis King
• Frenchies
• PapaTom