Fledgling [On Hold]

Chapter Two

Two

The clanking of the steel latches on the gate of the ferry-boat rang through the cool March air as the fog began to roll in over the choppy Lake Michigan water.  The family of three climbed out of their black sport-utility vehicle and hurried to the upper level seating, hoping to get the best seats and be able to see above the fog. The child, who turned fourteen yesterday, pestered his parents to hurry up. They sat down, a parent on each side, and looked ahead to see the deeply-wooded Washington Island in Wisconsin; only the tops of the pine trees were budding out of the top of the growing fog.  

"That's what it looks like? It looks so mysterious from here," Blake said, intrigued by the adventure they were about to begin.

"That's what it looks like," Eric Adler, Blake’s father, said. "I was sitting on this very same bench twenty years ago and that island still looks exactly the same. It was a similar day too: the fog was rolling in, storm clouds loomed overhead. I'll never forget it; this loud crack of thunder roared and the lightning struck about 500 feet away from the boat. It was so bright I could see the bolt whenever I blinked until we docked on the island." Blake stared into the sky in amazement as if he could see the picture his father had just painted for him.

The boat wasn't crowded, mostly workers and monitors, leaving the entire upper level nearly empty except for Kathryn, Eric and Blake Adler. There were only about four other families--the middle of the week wasn't exactly prime camping time for most people. A tall man of a heavier-set walked up the stairs in front of where they were sitting, his grayish-white hair giving little way to the strong breeze. Blake scanned him from toe to head until he finally made eye contact, both of their blue eyes staring at one another until the man led himself to the bench directly behind them.

"You know," the older man started directing his attention towards Blake as if Eric and Kathryn weren't even there, "I've ridden this ferryboat every year at this time for the past thirty years and have never seen you. Is this your first time?"

"It is for my son, I used to come with my parents when I was growing up," Eric said, putting his arm around Blake to act as a barrier between Blake and the man.  

"I have some fishing gear in my car; I remember this great spot that I used to go to with my dad--nobody knows about it. Maybe later when you all get settled I can show you around, the fish up there really bite around dinner time, if I remember correctly," he said, scratching his off-white beard.  

"We'll have to see.  We have to pitch our tent and God knows that could take forever, especially since none of us have raised one in easily ten years," Kathryn said with a smile, standing up. She ruffled Blake's brown hair and suggested they head to their car so they could get ready to find their campsite. Eric and Blake stood up, Blake again scanning the man. He pretended to reel in a big fish on his imaginary fishing pole as a smile crept over Blake's face. Eric adjusted his jacket, deliberately but subtly making his gun and Green Bay police badge visible before pulling it back down and concealing both. Eric was always suspicious when strangers attempted to interact with his family out of the blue, especially his son.  This man was no exception.

"Have a great day, sir," Eric said, herding Blake and Kathryn towards the stairs. Blake rushed down the stairs going two at a time and jumped into the car, waiting eagerly to reach the receiving dock. Eric and Kathryn could see his excitement as he shut the door, waving to both of them from inside the car.  

"There seems to me to be something a little off about that old man. Should we be worried?" Kathryn asked, concerned about the white-haired man.

"I don't think so, it seems like he took the hint when he saw the badge," Eric replied with a smile. He was relieved that it was not just his detective mindset that searched for suspicious behavior.  Even still, there was something that both he and Kathryn mutually felt was wrong.