He did it. He’d pared it all down and tucked it all in and stocked her all up.
He was down to one set of waterproofs, two pairs of jeans, three tees, four pairs of socks, five undies, six favorite CDs, seven books.
He was going for eight apples, nine carrots, and ten bananas, but he ate two bananas walking back from the store. So there was that. In any event, there were many other odds and ends he didn’t count but that counted just as much: sleeping bags, towels and dishes and batteries, the manual pump. All the things that would make it home.
For it was going to be. Home. The first he’d ever owned.
This boat: The Marianna.
His little sister had always dreamed of living on one, and her yearning settled in him after she died.
He smiled at the sky. “Welcome aboard, Marianna. Let’s fly.”
