Big Bertha Explains Stages Again
"Sometimes I wonder at you, Mac. Nobody lives there because it's not a home. It's a stage."
"Well, it would be a good home if it was a home, Bertie. Look at that view. I'd rather look at that view than any number of folks on a stage."
"It's not that kind of stage, honey. It's where fishermen 'stage' their operations. They keep their gear in there. You see the traps on the dock and that net on the rocks."
"Oh ... right. Say, haven't you ..."
"Yes, dear. I've explained it before."
Little Mac took a bite of his sandwich and sighed and shook his head. "Gee, Bertie," he said. "I hope I never forget how to chew. You make the best lobster sandwiches in the whole wide world."
He finished the sandwich and wiped his mouth with the paper napkin the sandwich had been wrapped in and lay down on the blanket with his head in his companion's ample lap. "It's worrisome," he said, closing his eyes. "I think I'm gettin' worse."
Big Bertha waited till she was sure he was napping before she eased out from under him and pulled the edge of the blanket up over him. Down at the water's edge she stood gazing out at the glorious sunset while she sipped the last of the white wine from her paper cup.
"For better or for worse," she remarked, as if the seagull gliding overhead could hear or understand. "For better or for worse."
15 December 2017
Texas Jim (in the first hour of his 65th)
St. Margaret's Bay, Nova Scotia
www.granitecoast.ca