“This used to be a pirate’s cove, you know.” The water lapped against the side of the boat as the old man lifted the oars out of the water, resting his arms. The boy looked up from the golden wrapped chocolate bar he was eating and rested his eyes on his grandpa. They narrowed in disbelief.
“This is a lake, Grandpa.” A soft breeze tousled the boy’s blond hair. It came to rest on his forehead, hiding his blue eyes.
“It might not have always been a lake,” Grandpa said. “You’ve not been here as long as I have.” The boy sighed.
“Oh, you don’t believe me, do you? Well, that’s fine.” He picked up the oars and began rowing again, the paddles hitting the water with a rhythmic slap. The boy reached out of the boat, sticking his fingers in the water, inspecting the tiny valley of green that formed and vanished as they moved across the water.
“I didn’t say that,” the boy said. “It’s just… the ocean is a long way away.”
“You think that will stop a pirate?” Grandpa said with a smile. The boy considered this. He placed his candy on the bench and looked as far as he could across the idle waves, hoping for a sail. Seeing nothing, he reached again for the chocolate. The candy was gone. He heard a chuckle and looked up at his grandpa. The old man had a brown stain on his lips.
“You just never know about pirates.”
John Robert DeVore lives in Chattanooga, TN. He teaches writing at Hixson Middle School and is the former film editor for the Chattanooga Pulse.
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