riptide_asylum (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
riptide_asylum) wrote2010-03-28 04:59 pm
riptide_asylum) wrote2010-03-28 04:59 pm
Entry tags:
"The Sunny Pleasure" (Beach Boys, 2002)
Title: The Sunny Pleasure
Rating: PG
Summary: Cody faces a conversation with an interesting customer
In the end, they decided they'd go together.
As they walked along the water-swollen planks to Slip 11, Cody mentally checked off each of the other residents. Slip 7, the Cutthroat, whose residents never appeared before noon; Slip 8, Tangerine Dream, who Nick had last week had to talk into keeping the lute-playing confined to daylight hours; Slips 9 and 10, the Rob Roy and The Three Pointer, respectively. Two sets of old friends both wintering on the sunny shores of Mexico. As a cold wind tickled the hair on his bare legs, Cody wished he and Nick could join them.
Which brought him to Slip 11.
The Sunny Pleasure, a 38-foot Starcraft liveaboard, sole property of Ervin T. Hilsbury and--
Nick nudged him out of his reverie. "You're stalling."
"Am not." Cody nettled. "Besides, it's not an easy thing to talk about, Nick. What am I gonna say?"
"You'll think of something. I'd start with 'Good morning' if I were you."
Cody glared. "Gee, thanks. Any other words of advice?"
Nick smirked. "What was it you told me about Miss Tangerine? Oh yeah, I remember. 'Say something nice. Compliment her on her eyes.' So there you go."
"Somehow, Nick, that sounds much more appropriate in relation to a single 32-year-old schoolteacher from Humboldt than a--"
"You don't know, Cody. Ervin might be single. Let's just hope he doesn't teach school." Without waiting for a response, Nick rang the small brass bell hung on one side of the wire-fenced gateway to the slip.
There was no response, save the soft lap of waves against the Sunny Pleasure's hull and the sound of a wind blowing in from offshore.
Cody shivered. "Maybe he's not home."
"Uh huh." Nick rang the bell again, then punctuated it with a yell. "Mr. Hilsbury! It's Nick and Cody from the office!"
Deep in the bowels of the Sunny Pleasure a door slammed, then came a muffled grumbling and a crash.
"Sounds like he's home after all. You're up, guy." Nick patted Cody on the back reassuringly.
The aft hatch opened and Mr Hilsbury strode on deck and stood facing them with his hands on his hips. A potbellied man in his sixties, as he glanced appreciatively around the marina, he wore an expression of contentment and appreciation, maybe even wonder. Unfortunately, that
was all he was wearing. "Good morning, gentlemen! What can I do for Pacific Cove's finest this morning?"
He hazarded a glance up at the Sunny Pleasure's owner then quickly returned his gaze to the pier. "We're not cops,--" he began, then stopped and cleared his throat. Nick nudged him with an elbow and he cleared his throat again. With a deep sigh, he looked up and determinedly at a
point three feet to Mr. Hilsbury's left. "Ah, good morning, Erv--Mr. Hilsbury. We were just wondering if we could talk to you for a second."
"Seems like y'already are, Allen."
"Yeah." Cody hazarded another glance at the old man and quickly wished he hadn't. He went back to staring at the Sunny Pleasure's starboard salon window. "Nice morning, isn't it, sir?"
"A might cold for this time of year, but I'm sure we'll all get used to it soon enough. You two get me out here to talk about the weather?"
"Ah--yeah--I mean no sir." Cody swallowed hard. "But you're right, it is kinda cold out here. Uh, speaking of which," Cody swallowed hard. "Speaking of which, don't you think you might need a sweater?"
Next to him, Nick snickered, and Cody shot him a dark look. Nick held up an apologetic hand then put it to his mouth and shook his head.
"Nope! Allen, when you get to be my age, you'll realize how lucky you are to feel the wind on your skin, the salt breezes running through your hair--"
"Well, we can see he's got the hair bit covered," Nick murmured behind his hand.
Cody shot him another dark look, then returned to the problem at hand. "Look, Mr. Hilsbury--Erv...."
The silence hung on the morning like an albatross. "Aren't you worried about catching cold?" Cody finished lamely.
"What?"
Nick tittered again, then slung a hand round Cody's shoulders and squeezed. "Look, Erv," he said, "we want you to take full advantage of the weather, but when you're docked and on deck, you gotta wear pants, okay pal?"
The Sunny Pleasure's owner looked hurt. "You sure?"
"Positive. But I tell you what, you pull round that outcropping over there, just far enough to be outta sight? Anything goes. Knock yourself out, buddy."
Mr. Hilsbury brightened. "So noted. Thanks, Ryder. So I suppose I should..." He indicated towards the Sunny Pleasure's interior.
"If you wouldn't mind, sir," Nick continued. As Mr. Hilsbury shook his head and plodded back inside, Nick raised a hand in farewell. "Appreciate it!"
After the Sunny Pleasure's hatch had slammed shut, Nick squeezed Cody's shoulder again and guided him back along the slip. The sea breezes eased as they worked their way back toward the Hightide and home. As they stopped in front of their slip, Nick put a hand on Cody's arm. A smirk still played around his lips. "Can't believe you didn't compliment him on his eyes, Cody."
Rating: PG
Summary: Cody faces a conversation with an interesting customer
In the end, they decided they'd go together.
As they walked along the water-swollen planks to Slip 11, Cody mentally checked off each of the other residents. Slip 7, the Cutthroat, whose residents never appeared before noon; Slip 8, Tangerine Dream, who Nick had last week had to talk into keeping the lute-playing confined to daylight hours; Slips 9 and 10, the Rob Roy and The Three Pointer, respectively. Two sets of old friends both wintering on the sunny shores of Mexico. As a cold wind tickled the hair on his bare legs, Cody wished he and Nick could join them.
Which brought him to Slip 11.
The Sunny Pleasure, a 38-foot Starcraft liveaboard, sole property of Ervin T. Hilsbury and--
Nick nudged him out of his reverie. "You're stalling."
"Am not." Cody nettled. "Besides, it's not an easy thing to talk about, Nick. What am I gonna say?"
"You'll think of something. I'd start with 'Good morning' if I were you."
Cody glared. "Gee, thanks. Any other words of advice?"
Nick smirked. "What was it you told me about Miss Tangerine? Oh yeah, I remember. 'Say something nice. Compliment her on her eyes.' So there you go."
"Somehow, Nick, that sounds much more appropriate in relation to a single 32-year-old schoolteacher from Humboldt than a--"
"You don't know, Cody. Ervin might be single. Let's just hope he doesn't teach school." Without waiting for a response, Nick rang the small brass bell hung on one side of the wire-fenced gateway to the slip.
There was no response, save the soft lap of waves against the Sunny Pleasure's hull and the sound of a wind blowing in from offshore.
Cody shivered. "Maybe he's not home."
"Uh huh." Nick rang the bell again, then punctuated it with a yell. "Mr. Hilsbury! It's Nick and Cody from the office!"
Deep in the bowels of the Sunny Pleasure a door slammed, then came a muffled grumbling and a crash.
"Sounds like he's home after all. You're up, guy." Nick patted Cody on the back reassuringly.
The aft hatch opened and Mr Hilsbury strode on deck and stood facing them with his hands on his hips. A potbellied man in his sixties, as he glanced appreciatively around the marina, he wore an expression of contentment and appreciation, maybe even wonder. Unfortunately, that
was all he was wearing. "Good morning, gentlemen! What can I do for Pacific Cove's finest this morning?"
He hazarded a glance up at the Sunny Pleasure's owner then quickly returned his gaze to the pier. "We're not cops,--" he began, then stopped and cleared his throat. Nick nudged him with an elbow and he cleared his throat again. With a deep sigh, he looked up and determinedly at a
point three feet to Mr. Hilsbury's left. "Ah, good morning, Erv--Mr. Hilsbury. We were just wondering if we could talk to you for a second."
"Seems like y'already are, Allen."
"Yeah." Cody hazarded another glance at the old man and quickly wished he hadn't. He went back to staring at the Sunny Pleasure's starboard salon window. "Nice morning, isn't it, sir?"
"A might cold for this time of year, but I'm sure we'll all get used to it soon enough. You two get me out here to talk about the weather?"
"Ah--yeah--I mean no sir." Cody swallowed hard. "But you're right, it is kinda cold out here. Uh, speaking of which," Cody swallowed hard. "Speaking of which, don't you think you might need a sweater?"
Next to him, Nick snickered, and Cody shot him a dark look. Nick held up an apologetic hand then put it to his mouth and shook his head.
"Nope! Allen, when you get to be my age, you'll realize how lucky you are to feel the wind on your skin, the salt breezes running through your hair--"
"Well, we can see he's got the hair bit covered," Nick murmured behind his hand.
Cody shot him another dark look, then returned to the problem at hand. "Look, Mr. Hilsbury--Erv...."
The silence hung on the morning like an albatross. "Aren't you worried about catching cold?" Cody finished lamely.
"What?"
Nick tittered again, then slung a hand round Cody's shoulders and squeezed. "Look, Erv," he said, "we want you to take full advantage of the weather, but when you're docked and on deck, you gotta wear pants, okay pal?"
The Sunny Pleasure's owner looked hurt. "You sure?"
"Positive. But I tell you what, you pull round that outcropping over there, just far enough to be outta sight? Anything goes. Knock yourself out, buddy."
Mr. Hilsbury brightened. "So noted. Thanks, Ryder. So I suppose I should..." He indicated towards the Sunny Pleasure's interior.
"If you wouldn't mind, sir," Nick continued. As Mr. Hilsbury shook his head and plodded back inside, Nick raised a hand in farewell. "Appreciate it!"
After the Sunny Pleasure's hatch had slammed shut, Nick squeezed Cody's shoulder again and guided him back along the slip. The sea breezes eased as they worked their way back toward the Hightide and home. As they stopped in front of their slip, Nick put a hand on Cody's arm. A smirk still played around his lips. "Can't believe you didn't compliment him on his eyes, Cody."