12I dashed outside. Bert’s early customer now manned the ticket booth. Bert had prepared him and he waved me on to the gangplank. A dockworker in blue overalls gave me the once-over, then looked quickly away when I met his eyes. As soon as I stepped on to the deck from the gangplank, he began unhitching it from the boat.
The vessel lurched. I staggered and gripped the railing as we moved toward the center of the canal. The water-level restaurant was crowded with holiday feasters, the crush in front of the bar three-deep, fists waving currency in the air, the noise of conversation and laughter as thick as the visible cloud of cigarette smoke. Then a pair of accordions wheezed and oompah music boiled out over the human din.
I climbed the exterior stairway to the next level. Tables and chai
