Free Backcast by Ann McMan Page B

that I realized how lucky I was to be born me.

3
    An Obscure Object of Desire
    Junior wasn’t talking. He pretty much just sat back on his plaid throne and let Quinn figure things out.
    They’d moved one of his big, Dorito-stained recliners out of the warehouse and set it up on the pontoon. It reposed there proudly, dead center on the carpeted area beneath the red canvas awning, like a makeshift captain’s bridge. It looked sort of good, too—almost like it came with the boat as part of some luxury package.
    The way Quinn saw it, these damn boats were just like double-wide trailers on floats—so why not trick one out with real furniture?
    When she suggested the idea to Junior, he didn’t say much. He just stared at her and plucked at a stray chin hair.
    She took that as a “yes.” Montana helped her haul the big chair outside and drag it down to the dock so they could move it onto the boat. They also took along a full-sized Weber grill that had seen better days.
    Quinn loved hot dogs, and so did Junior. It was another thing they had in common.
    Now they were out for their first motorized tour of the islands.
    While Quinn got the hang of driving the boat—which was really more like aiming it in the general direction you wanted it to go—Montana sat on the bow, cleaning the grill racks with steel wool. Quinn didn’t bother to suggest to her that it might make more sense to do her scraping at the back of the boat. Ancient flecks of carbonized meat kept billowing across the deck in rust-colored swarms.Montana sat with her long legs spread-eagled, riding the swells like a pro. She was wearing cutoff jeans and a loose-fitting tank top. Her short blonde hair glowed like a second sun.
    Nope. Quinn didn’t mind the chunks of rust and burnt grease that kept hitting her in the face. It was worth it to enjoy the view.
    She caught Junior watching her watch Montana. She smiled at him and shrugged. He stared at her for another moment before nodding and returning his gaze to the front of the boat. It was pretty clear that he was enjoying the view, too.
    They were making their second trip around Knight Island. It was shadier on the backside, and there were some outcroppings of rocks and places where old trees had fallen and were partially submerged in the water.
    â€œStop!”
    Junior’s command surprised Quinn. She cut the motor without hesitation. The water wasn’t very deep through here, so they hadn’t been going all that fast. It didn’t take the boat long to wind down to a gentle drift. The pontoons rocked up and down on the waves that rolled in toward the shore.
    â€œWhy are we stopping?” She asked Junior.
    He pointed a fat finger toward one of the felled trees. “I just saw her.”
    Her? Quinn looked toward the tree and the bank beyond. There were no people in sight. There wasn’t anything in sight but what was left of a cracked concrete slab and a beat-up picnic table. Knight Island was part of a state park, and people could still camp on it.
    â€œI don’t see anyone.”
    Junior shook his head. “Not a person. A fish.”
    A fish?
    â€œWhat fish?” Quinn looked again toward the tree. She could feel a twinge of excitement. Even Montana dropped her steel wool pad and climbed to her feet.
    Something splashed in the water ahead.
    â€œRight there!” Montana cried. “I saw her. My god. She’s huge! ”
    Junior nodded. “That’s her all right.”
    Quinn still didn’t see it. “What the hell are you two looking at? Who is ‘she,’ and why are you so damn excited?”
    â€œIt’s Phoebe.”
    Quinn looked at Junior. His face had taken on an odd expression. It was almost reverential.
    â€œWho?”
    â€œPhoebe,” he said again. “The biggest damn bass in this lake.”
    â€œHer name is Phoebe? ”
    Junior nodded. “Been called that for nigh on a hundred years