Thanks for the pic!
The Padre ran around to the port side of Shiela’s duck to talk to her, “Head down to the marina and put in over there. We need to get the big tow truck to pull Duck 4 back to the garage. Then drive these people around Ballard, they are all from a group the Swedish Club put together.”
“Will do, sir”, Sheila replied.
She turned around watch the passengers climb up into their seats. They sure looked like a bunch of Swedes, lots of gray hair and bright blue eyes.
“Is anyone ready for some Lutefisk?”, she asked through the loudspeakers.
There was a subdued cheer from the old folks.
“How about some coffee and gingerbread?”
This seemed a bit more popular with the group so she planned to see if they wanted to stop at the Swedish Bakery on Market Street in Ballard. Sheila backed the Duck out of the parking lot and headed for the marina. The rest of the journey went on without a hitch, and fun, coffee and pastries were had by all.
“Thanks for coming. Bye. Thanks. You’re welcome. No problem. Those were good cookies. Buh-bye. Bye now. Thanks. And, thank you sir”, Sheila said as the elderly disembarked.
Sheila pulled the Duck around the back of the office and hopped out to see if The Padre was back. The office door was open, but there wasn’t anyone inside. The computer was still there, and the TV and the radio. She went over to radio.
“Base Monkey to Ducks”, she said.
“Duck 1 here, rounding the corner”, The Padre said as his SUV careened into the parking lot, then he jumped out and trotted over to the office.
“Duck 3 to Base Monkey”, the radio squawked as Sheila was hustling out from behind The Padre’s desk.
The Padre walked over and hit the radio bar, “Just park that thing Jimmy.”
“Will do, over and out”
“So the swedes are all hopped up on caffiene and powdered sugar, roaming Seattle Center, I’m sure”, Sheila said to The Padre.
“Here’s fifty bucks for the extra trip”, he said, handing her the bill.
“Wow, cool. Call me anytime mister”, she said stuffing the fifty into her pocket.
“OK Anytime, Can you fill up your rig with fuel on the way to the garage?”
“It’s gonna take more than fifty bucks to fill up that monster!”, Sheila joked. They all had cards for the fleet fueling station down in SODO, a couple blocks from the garage.
“Funny girl. That’s why we keep you around here.”
The Padre started shuffling things around on his desk, so Sheila went into the break room to see if any of the other drivers had any new jokes on the board. There wasn’t anything new on the map or the message board, so he took a blue pin and put it on the intersection of 12th and 42nd. Then she grabbed a blue marker and wrote, “Amber Alert” on the white board. She’d let the other drivers try to figure that one out for themselves.
Sheila gassed up the Duck and tucked it into bed in the massive garage that held eight of these behemoths when they weren’t driving or floating around. Someone had already taken the nose of Duck 4 apart in an attempt to diagnose the illness. Her Duck was the last one in for the evening so she made sure to turn off all the lights and check the alarm. Her apartment was only a mile south in Georgetown so she always rode her bike to work.
As she was out in front of the garage putting on her helmet she saw a beat up old van sputtering its way up the street. When she saw the words “FREE CANDY” on the side, she waved and give the driver a big thumbs up. Stefan saw her waving and he waved back.
“Hmmph”, he hmmphed to himself as he watched the girl disappear in the rear view mirror. He wasn’t used to such a rousing endorsement for his ride.
