Thinking silently to myself, all I could think about was my first words and actions.  Come on, Alex, get it together.  You’ll do fine.  You were at the top of your class in law school.  You won every mock trial case handed your way with ease.  You will do fine.  Beneath my feet, I could feel the vessel was moving away from the dock.  My journey as a newbie trial lawyer was almost upon me.

The one thing I liked about the Port Angeles ferry was that it had that old ship look and the essence of past times, yet there was a warming feeling about her.  I made my way to the stern of the vessel and outside where I could sit at a table and watch the water while I relaxed.  The place was open to the outside elements, yet it could provide cover with the new automatic awning that could withstand high forces of wind, which made it very pleasant with shade against the sunny day.

I loved my life and where I lived.  I couldn’t thank my uncle enough for allowing me to move here, since he fronted all the cash for my place and what seemed like an unending spending account.  I was thankful he had let me pursue my dream of becoming a lawyer against his wishes, but today I would make history for myself.  I just needed to make sure it was a good mark in history and finally read over my case.  There was plenty of time between here and Port Angeles Harbor.

The Port Angeles ferry came about and trolled out, leaving the harbor in Alexandria’s peripheral vision.  The morning run to Port Angeles was only for walkers, which meant only pedestrians and bicycles could ride.  The ferry was not used for transportation of vehicles during its first run.  Being so early in the morning and with less weight, the ferry could make good time at a top speed of twenty knots for the twenty-two-mile distance, which normally took ninety minutes but more like an hour on a good calm day. 

The two old diesel engines still had life in them as the ferry signaled her departure with smoke rising from her single stack.  She had just had an overhaul that allowed each engine to push out a total of two extra knots of speed, giving her the advantage over her old, declining self that barely topped sixteen knots.  However, today would be the proving ground as she made a trial run, hoping to shave off thirty minutes.

Waves began to form as the two big propellers rotated and churned bright blue water into a murky color.  The captain blasted the horns, and the midshipmen rang the bells aboard the bow and stern.  The Port Angeles ferry was still alive and kicking as she proudly passed the coastal land of Vancouver Island, making her way out to Rock Race Lighthouse.  To one side of her was a wonderful view of Victoria and to the other, Johnson Bridge.

My nervousness seemed to dissipate as the morning sun covered my face and the natural scents of the water and air surrounded me.  What a perfect day to put the last couple of days behind me.  I dropped my backpack on the seat at my chosen table, which was close to the back of the ship.  I walked over to the railing.  I wasn’t ready to sit down just yet.  I knew I had to get busy looking over the case and just needed a few more minutes of this perfect view.

I figured once we passed Race Rock Lighthouse, the ferry would put the pedal to the metal, so to speak, and I would sit and go over the papers.  It didn’t take long before I finished my first cup of coffee and needed another one.  I figured I would order one from the little cafe inside.  At least I knew they carried only one brand, Seattle’s Best, and that would do just fine.  It was a bit strong as I recall, but it had enough punch to put some good pep in my tank.  In fact, just thinking about it made me want to go get one right then to replace my empty cup.

My addiction to coffee was almost the same as an addiction to marijuana.  Once I had a great hit, my body yearned for it.  Truth be told, marijuana causes the brain to fire neutrons to the body, mellowing a person out and perhaps even making them hungry.  For me, coffee indeed fires neutrons to my body, calms me down, and makes me focus more clearly.  I can get that only with a true cup of coffee and not those so-called coffee drinks with made-up names by some young adult picking words out of a dictionary and jumbling them to sound fancy.  Otherwise known as a college kid trying to make ends meet working as a corner street barista.

“Guess I’d better get a cup of coffee to go with my view.”

“Would you like cream and sugar as well, madam?”

I jumped in place as I was caught off guard.  I did a quick about-face and saw it was a working deckhand standing right in front of me.  Odd thing was, he was dressed in an Old World outfit and not the normal attire I was used to seeing.

“Wow, you scared me.  I almost leaped over the railing.”

“My apologies to the lady.  Shall I fetch a spot of coffee, madam?”  The deckhand spoke in a deep, rich British accent that seemed overly forced.

“OK.”

“I shall return in a horse length’s time.”

I stared at him with a bewildered look in my eyes.  I she felt displaced in time with this man speaking to me using an accent of past years.  It was quite obvious I wasn’t losing my mind, yet it was odd because when I boarded the vessel, all was normal.  It didn’t take long for the deckhand to return.  My back was once again to him.

“Your coffee, madam.”

“OK, you have got to be less subtle when sneaking up on someone.”

“Sneaking?  Why on earth, my lady, do you think that?”

“Seeing how you are being nice and all, I really appreciate it.”  lowered my voice a bit and leaned ion towards him.  “But you don’t have to play out whatever part you have been told to play.  I am quite fine with you just speaking normally.”

“Why, yes, my lady.”  He cleared his voice over several grunts.  “Here is your coffee, sugar, and cream.”  He finished the sentence in a Jersey accent, far from his feeble British accent.  “You happen to have a spare cigarette by any chance?”

“What?  No, I don’t smoke.  You’re not from around here, seeing as how I knew there was something different about your British accent.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Horrible.  If the queen knew, you would surely be hung out to dry for impersonating a Brit, and I bet fired, too, for smoking while on duty.”

“Guess I’d better jump over the railing and into the wadda.”

“You mean water?”

“Yeah, wadda.  That’s how we say ‘water’ back home.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far.  You just need to work on your accent and try to refrain from asking folks for cancer sticks while you’re on duty.”  I giggled a tad.  “So, what’s up with the accent and your outfit?”  I looked around could now see other deckhands in the same getup.

“Oh, just some silly charade that the company has us doing today in celebration of the vessel testing out the overhauled engines.  By the way, the coffee is free.  In fact, all nonalcoholic beverages are free while you ride today.  It’s their promotional way of saying thanks for riding with us.”

“Ah, spoken like a true American man, yet one who feels he has to play dress-up.  Thank you for the free coffee.”

“Touché.  You got me there, and you are welcome.”

“So, mystery man, do you have a name?”

“That depends on if you have a name.”

“My name is Alexandria.”

“Whoa, that name sounds like royalty.  Wait, am I being watched by the queen’s guards?”  The deckhand looked around, pretending as if someone were watching him.  He had raised his voice enough to gain the attention of folks near us.

“Shh.  You’re starting to freak me out, let alone the people around you.”

 

 [Copyright by RM/SJ Secor.  All rights reserved.  No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from authors]