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There wasn’t much steering to do. Just the same, she was grinning ear to ear when he stepped up from below with two mugs of clear tea. She took one, noticing that he liked his tea the same way she did. They motored on their heading for a few minutes while they sipped the hot tea. Both of them had put their sunglasses on as the brilliant sun was reflecting off the small waves on the water before them. Steve looked intently at a chart. ‘Ok, Ingrid,’ he said, raising his voice over the engine noise. ‘I want you to steer a heading of two-zero-zero on this compass. That will take us clear of Passage Island and point us out into the Gulf. I’m going forward to set up the sails. If you see anything that looks wrong or worries you, push that black button on the panel to the left. It will sound the horn and alert me to come back. Give it a try, just a short beep,’ he instructed. She pushed the button gingerly and a sharp horn sounded, much like the ones she had heard at the hockey games.. And then her tiny young nipples began to throb as if in wicked perverse accompaniment to the unknown song of quickening desire that was somehow welling inside her at this very moment.Her mind reeled for a moment and then her confused thoughts, blurred by the effects of the unaccustomed liquor, began to come together in one frightening melange of apprehension and suspicious fear. What is happening to me? Something's wrong... maybe I've been poisoned. Yes, that's it, poisoned! No, that can't be right, who would poison me? Maybe it's the liquor, maybe I'm allergic to something in those drinks."You sick or somethin', Sarah?" She jumped half a foot off the camper floor at the sudden intrusion; turning, startled, she saw that Mr. Hawkins had let himself in through the unlocked door and was standing there in the doorway only a few feet away. Only she couldn't see him, at least not clearly. He was more a smeared, shapeless mass to her blurry eyes than the man she remembered from just a short.
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