Flying Too Close to the Sun by George Jehn (novels for beginners .txt) 📕

the wetsuit, tied the arms to secure it and placed the entire bundle on the dock. His watch read 9:44, meaning he would be home by two-thirty or three. After double-checking the boat and systematically wiping it down with the sleeve of his shirt, a quick glance confirmed the dock was deserted. This pleased him because it would probably again take two trips to haul everything back to the car. He carefully placed two of the duffels sideways on the narrow floating walkway between the boats so they couldn’t roll off into the water, picked up the gear and the two other duffel bags and walked to his car. He had a nagging feeling he wasn’t alone, and sure enough, passing the clubhouse he saw the same guy still sitting outside nursing a beer. He simply gazed at the boats, while stroking a sizable birthmark visible on his left cheek. Juni again nodded as he passed by. Even in the thick fog the fellow’s voice carried from the porch with radio-like clarity. “Nasty evening for boating,” he offered in a copious Boston accent.

“I cut my diving trip short because of this piss-poor weather. I couldn’t see a damn thing. Maybe tomorrow night will be better?” Juni replied. At the car, he felt uneasy, but couldn’t put his finger on why. He dumped the gear and two bags into the trunk and locked it. Returning to the boat, the guy was no longer sitting on the porch, but was ambling toward him. Juni noticed that he was carrying a wooden softball bat in his large hands, confirming he’d come from a local game. As he passed, however, Juni paused, an innate animal-like alarm stiffened his muscles and an internal siren screamed inside his head that this was a dangerous man. Something wasn’t right. The peril suddenly came together in the viscous air. Why would he have a wooden bat? Everyone uses metal today. With this lousy weather there couldn’t have been any games. Fight or flight? No time. No choice. With clenched fists and flexed muscles, Juni wheeled around to confront the stranger. But there was only a thunderous crack followed by searing pain that spread from his head down into his neck, followed by a descent into a bottomless pit of a slowly revolving abyss.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

“Shuttle Air 1540 is cleared for an ILS approach to LaGuardia Runway 22. The ceiling measured three hundred feet overcast, three-quarters of a mile visibility in light rain and fog. Wind, one nine zero degrees at seven knots. You’re cleared to land.”

As the 727 touched down, Christina put a handful of levers controlling almost fifty thousand pounds of Pratt and Whitney jet engine thrust into reverse and came to a smooth halt at the Charlie taxiway turnoff. She slowly taxied to the terminal via the Inner taxiway. After securing the aircraft the crew quickly gathered their belongings. Woody had left his car in the short-term lot directly across from the terminal in order to quickly get to his father’s side. Erik and Christina didn’t speak during the seemingly endless ride to the employee lot, where they simply shook hands before driving off.

There was unceasing darkness just outside Erik’s line of sight on both sides of the road on the drive home, the air heavy with expectancy. McDonald’s provided a quick respite to stave off the hunger. Once home, he went to the fridge and cracked one of the old man’s Warsteiner beers and tried to settle back with bottle and remote in hand. He heard nothing while alternately glancing from the TV to the seemingly stationary hands of the old Bauhaus Moller clock, anxiously awaiting the agreed-upon signal.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

“Mister, are you all right? Wake up. Please!”

Juni looked up and could barely make out the blurry outline of two dark-haired, teenaged boys, twins, leaning over him.

“You don’t look good. You slip on the dock or something?” one asked, his brown eyes wide with fear.

“Where am I? Who are you? What happened?” As Juni lay there motionless, the caustic stench of creosote and coal tar arose from the dock, which when mixed with the metallic odor of his dried blood made him wonder if he was dead and embalmed, but then it came back that he was at a marina. The excruciating pain made it difficult to bring anything into focus and while attempting to get to his feet, Juni discovered that wouldn’t happen as his body seemed to be at involuntary rest. His brain felt as though it was too big for his head, which throbbed in rhythm with every heartbeat.

“Whoa, easy. You must have taken some spill. Want me to call an ambulance?”

“No!” Juni exclaimed, but then murmured, “I’ll be okay. Just give me a few minutes.” He took some slow, deep breaths, trying to clear his head and the hurt finally subsided to an endurable level. When his equilibrium returned, with the youth’s help he slowly sat up. He finally stood with his world spinning and swaying on feet with legs that felt like rubber bands. This vertigo sensation, when combined with the slight pitching of the dock made him almost tumble over.

“I came down to check on my dad’s boat ‘cause I wanted to make sure the bilge pump was working. Then I saw you lying here...” The boy gulped, obviously holding back tears.

“Don’t worry, I’m all right.” Juni softly patted the lad’s shoulder, wondering where his brother had gone. But he realized there was only one boy. He’d been seeing double. “I must’ve slipped on the dock and hit my head,” he said while looking down at his blood, now thinned by the rain, oozing between the boards and dripping into the murky brine. Juni took a handkerchief from his pocket, noting his keys were missing and gently touched the back of his head and grimaced, feeling sizeable swelling along with a good amount of fresh and partially dried blood in his matted hair. How long