"Good morning." Andy poked his head inboard from his perch in the helmchair.

Mitchell reached slowly for the sail tie and raised himself on an elbow. "Christ, I feel like I’m lying on a sidewalk."

"There’s definitely a comfort factor," Andy said.

"No mattresses, no stove. At least the head is working."

"There’s something growing in it."

"What are you talking about?"

"It’s green and ugly, and I’m not going near it."

"Take the ferry pistol with you when you go. What are you up to?"

"Chess. I’m winning."

Mitchell had forgotten about the chess computer. "Do we have any food?"

"I’ll have to make some trail mix. Damn."

"What?"

"I can’t concentrate."

"I’ll leave you alone." Mitchell stretched his arm above his head and then across his chest to loosen his shoulder. "I could really go for a pizza. Is it still morning?"

"Yeah."

"Spinach and broccoli and mushrooms. Some eggplant. Roasted peppers and black olives and garlic swimming in hot mozza –"

"Shit. I had it."

"And that aroma." Mitchell could actually smell it.

"Do you have any money? I’m almost at the limit on my card."

"Give LaFleur a call," Mitchell said. "He owes me a couple hundred dollars on a bet. We’ll pick it up."

"It’s Tuesday morning. He probably won’t be home."

"He’ll be somewhere."

"Are you ready to get up?"

Mitchell took a deep breath. "O, how shall summer’s honey breath hold out. Against the wrackful siege of batt’ring days." He yawned and rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, what the hell. C’mon."

Andy helped Mitchell dress then hauled him up into the heat of a bright day. In the helmchair Mitchell lowered his head then turned it side to side to stretch his neck and shoulder muscles. Andy sat a big cup of trail mix next to the water jug between Mitchell’s legs. "Do you want to go ashore?"

"How’s that?" Mitchell looked over at the inaccessible beach and saw that Andy was talking with his heart. "Listen, don’t worry about it. I have a date with an old ghost."

Andy looked around but didn’t ask. "See ya," he said and climbed over the stern.

Mitchell pushed down his visor and considered his book, but the sloop was headed into a refreshing southwest breeze and Rockport Bay reached into the curves of creamy white beaches separated by a huge crown of granite ledge. He watched Andy ship his oars then land the dinghy on the far end of a beach. Andy pulled the dinghy across the sand into the grassy shade of a huge maple tree. He climbed an old stone stairway to the street and became another pedestrian in town.