Owen McCuen

Everything was there, to be sure, but edges didn't line up.

Pipes in the head were askew, unusable, and portholes weren't aligned with the hull.

Like a boat thrown together with your eyes closed.

I didn't know what to tell everyone.

Tell them we were on a make-believe boat?

Hardly.

But they were going to notice I wasn't at the helm and we weren't going anywhere.

I wish I'd retrieved a flare from my boat before we left it in case we saw another boat.

Only one option.

I decided to lay it out as it is.

No histrionics, just the facts, and hoped they'd accept, hey, they had to, that we were stuck out here until someone came along.

I went on deck and gave them the news.

I expected something bad from Grace, but she just sat stunned.

Tim and Tyler agreed, stone-faced.

Tammy understood without telling her.

I tried to alleviate the uncertainty by saying I knew someone would come along.

This was a popular place.

As for myself, I had the oddest feeling this wasn't only a waiting game.

Tammy had gone below, probably to get food or drink, but I knew how that would end.

She returned holding a bag that she turned upside down and nothing came out.