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November02, 2003 - Starfish (H): My (Contest) "Unofficial" Thanksgiving >> |
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Batteries Not Included |
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As I called the number for the tenth time, I could feel fear take hold of my body. Each time I called I was transferred to my husband's voice mail. Frustrated, I tried my brother's phone, but got the same response. By this time, my sister-in-law, Sandy, and I were extremely worried. Mark and my brother, Tom, assured us that they'd call as soon as they passed Catalina. Dean, the boat's owner, and Tony had accompanied our husbands on the trip. Since all four had cell phones, I thought, surely one of them would've called by now. I knew they were excited about catching lobster on their overnight trip, but now things were beginning to look fishy to me.
Fishing for
lobster was best done between midnight and dawn. The crew of four
dropped their nets as they trolled for hours, taking turns catching
catnaps in between pulling up nets filled with lobster, cod and
seaweed. They were working and laughing when, suddenly, all the boat
lights went out. The brand new battery failed. Eerily, every cell
phone on board went dead at the same time. Dean checked the boat's back
up battery, but to his surprise, found it lifeless, as well. "What
happened?" Tony asked. Dean shrugged his shoulders in bewilderment. It
didn't make any sense. Each participated in troubleshooting the problem,
but to no avail. Without a battery the bait began to spoil in the
built-in live bait tank. There they were anchored in the middle of a
dark ocean, with only a couple of flashlights. Unable to call for help,
they were left to hope that a passing vessel might see them and offer
assistance.
Even thought our
fisherman had been gone for more than twenty-four hours, we hadn't heard
a single word from them. I could've kicked myself for assuming they
would be fine. I should've written down Dean's phone number, I thought,
but remembered that another friend might be able to help. I was a
nervous wreck by late afternoon, but some relief came when Jeff rattled
off Dean's home phone number.
When Dean's wife
answered the phone, I held my breath while I inquired about our
wandering wayfarers. "Oh, yeah, they just got back," she casually
responded. My eyes got big, as I gave Sandy a "thumbs up." We both
seemed to exhale at the same time. "That's great, Kathy, may I speak to
Mark?" My tired husband no sooner held the phone to his ear, than I
began a tirade of scolding for his not calling me. "We were so worried,
Mark! How could you forget to phone home?" I chided. He explained that
all of the cell phones went dead, as did the boat batteries. Apparently
his bag had fallen into a pool of water on board, completely saturating
his wallet and cell phone, as well. As I was digesting this
information, Mark rambled on about "Jake this and Jake that." "Who the
heck is Jake?" I questioned. "Oh, Jake's our 5 pound anniversary
dinner, honey!" Mark proudly announced. "Well, get him and his buddies
home, will ya? Sandy and I were beside ourselves all night," I
responded.
As our weary
husbands walked in the door, hugs abounded and the story unfolded once
again. It was obvious that something strange had happened out on that
ocean. Fortunately, a ship had come to their rescue, after seeing the
feeble flicker of their flashlights. Triple A was contacted to jump the
boat's dead battery. Once the engine was started, the stranded crew
headed home. As we all contemplated the weirdness of our fishermen's
tale, we concluded that the boys must have been victims of a "Catalina
Triangle." What else could it have been? Although Mark's cell phone was
definitely water damaged, the lobster trip was successful. With Jake as
our "dinner guest," all the worry seemed worthwhile.
We decided that
we would replace Mark's cell phone battery as soon as possible, yet
mutual decisions don't always seem to hold up. While watching
television the next day, Mark and I were startled by a loud "POP," that
shook the house. Thinking it came from outside, Mark went to
investigate. As I noticed smoke coming from the kitchen, a putrid smell
filled the house. Fearing that we had a fire, I yelled for Mark to come
back inside. When we opened the oven door, a look of guilt covered my
husband's face. There on the walls of my oven were the remains of his
battery! "Oh, I forgot I put it in there," Mark sheepishly explained.
"Really? WHY did you put your battery in my oven?" I was fuming, now.
He told me that a friend suggested a short warming in the oven might
bring a damaged battery back to life. Unfortunately, Mark clicked broil
instead of bake, then FORGOT all about it. I never heard of such a
thing in my life, and I would have thought this was just another
fisherman's tale if I hadn't been there myself.
I still don't know whether or not my oven works, and Mark has yet to repair his cell phone. The only thing of which I am sure is that Jake started the whole thing. We marry for better or worse, and don't intend to jump ship over fish tales, cell phones, or the fact that men do have a mind of their own, yet I do believe that some men should be labeled "batteries not included."
Ginger is an award
winning author for Starfish, and a contributor to various other online
publications, such as Insight of the Day, Heartwarmers, Write2theheart,
2theheart, and Storytime_Tapestry. She weaves faith, traditions and
humor into her stories and poetry, as she strives to lift the spirit and
cheer the heart. One of her stories, The Ring of Love will be
featured in the upcoming book entitled Chicken Soup For The Bride's
Soul, which will be released in January 2004. Ginger's published
stories on Starfish are; A Cheerleader For Life, Against
All Odds, and Birthday Flower Attack. Two of her stories were
published on Sand Dollar and five poems on Driftwood. She resides in
Southern California with her husband and three grown children, a dog, a
cat, a bird, and a lot of fish in the freezer.
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| << November02, 2003 - Starfish (H): Donkey in the Well |
November02, 2003 - Starfish (H): My (Contest) "Unofficial" Thanksgiving >> |
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