Free Harsens Island by T. K. Madrid

know?”
    The girl abruptly stepped away.
    “Hold on, we’re there. Have a good one.”
    The engines throttled back and the boat slowed and softly bumped to rest.
     
    **********
     
    Sam spent slightly more than an hour exploring downtown Algonac. She bought a knee-length black dress, a Donna Morgan, and a matching set of black heels from a consignment shop called Yesteryear. When her exploration was complete – it was close to 7:30 – she approached the ferry depot, timing her boarding to synchronize with Mule’s arrival and departure.
    This time when she boarded, a man of Asian descent collected her fare. He stank of cigarette smoke. He had short, blade-one black hair. He harshly told her to not wander between the cars once the boat was in motion; he told her to stay in place with the other pedestrians.
    “Why’s that?” she asked.
    “I like everybody in one spot where I can see ‘em and keep a count on ‘em. We ain’t lost anyone on my watch and that’s why.”
    “Fair enough,” she said.
    “Even if it wasn’t,” he said, “it’s what it is.”
    From her vantage below the pilothouse, Sam noted Mule didn’t fill its window frames; she guessed he possessed a slight build. His head swiveled from the cabin, to the deck, and to the water, catching sight of her once, not giving her any particular regard.
    When they were thirty yards from shore his voice reverberated from the speakers pointed fore and aft.
    “Good afternoon and good evening, folks. This is Skipper Dan Mule, and on behalf of Mule’s Ferry and the beautiful souls of Harsens Island, I want to welcome you home and welcome you back. If, by the best of your good fortune, this is your first visit, I want to extend the warmest of welcomes and give you my personal guarantee that you’ll never really leave, as we will always be with you! Come to our island paradise as a stranger, and leave as a friend. Again, I’m Skipper Dan Mule. Have a spectacular evening!”
    The boat rocked to a stop and as the cars and pedestrians exited, Sam purposely held back, wanting to coordinate her exit with Mule.
    The Asian man wanted none of it.
    “Listen, lady,” he said. “I’ve been a happily married man nearly three months now. If you wanted a piece of me, you should’ve made a play long before then. We ain’t running no taxi, either! You need to get it in gear and get going now !”
    Mule came up directly behind him, grinning, obviously amused.
    “Ricky K.?”
    “Yes, sir, Skipper.”
    “This lady giving you a hard time?”
    “I’m trying to get her off the boat, Skip. We got payin’ customers wantin’ our services and I don’t think we want any lollygagging, do we, sir?”
    “Can’t have that, no, Ricky K., not at all. But I suspect she was getting ready to disembark, don’t you?”
    Now she was in stride with Mule, who placed a friendly hand on her lower back, guiding her off the boat.
    “Sir, can you let Sandra know I didn’t talk to her?”
    “I will abide, Ricky K. Keep up the good work!”
    “Aye-aye, Skipper!”
    Mule stood about five-seven, had spindly arms and legs, and carried a ponderous belly that sagged over a too-tight belt and pants two sizes too small. He had bright green eyes, coffee stained teeth, and Coppertone skin.
    A few steps further, Sam spoke, eyeing the shack with the Come On In sign.
    “Sandra?”
    “She’s in the monkey cage,” Mule said. “She’s got a mean streak wide as her ass which is why I keep her locked up. She likes the power it gives her, keeping the drunks in line and so on. Those two, you know, you never see a couple like them on TV do you? It’s always the exact opposite. The hubby’s big as house, got a belly with its own name, and the wifey is skinny and cute.”
    “Seems so,” Sam said.
    “Anybody back there in Hollywood ever wants to do it true, they’ll fix it so the wife’s built like a pin cushion and the husband like a pin. Hell, those two back there are the real modern family,