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The Last Voyage of the Misty Day Quotes
The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
by
Jackie French Koller8 ratings, 3.88 average rating, 2 reviews
The Last Voyage of the Misty Day Quotes
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“Why, it’s hotter than Hades in here,” said Miss Lizzie. She went right over and threw the window open. “No wonder he’s lookin’ so poorly. Likely he’s half-cooked.”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
“The Jeep was parked at the edge of the causeway, just above the bar. Mr. Jones often left it there, now that he had the dinghy. The keys were always in the ignition. Mr. Jones wasn’t much for security. “You only lock your friends out,” he used to say. Denny wondered sadly if he’d feel differently now.”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
“So what do we do, dress up like orderlies and sneak him out in the laundry cart?”
“Something like that.”
“Oh, c’mon, Spence, that routine is as old as the Three Stooges.”
“Probably older,” said Spence, laughing. “Actually I was thinking of something a little less dramatic.”
“Like what?”
“Like just walking out with him.”
Denny stared at Spence, then shook her head. “In one of the big hospitals in New York you might get away with that,” she said, “but in a little tiny hospital like Down East Community, it’ll never work.”
“It might, if he’s dressed like a woman,” said Spence.
Denny thought for a minute, then nodded. "Maybe," she said. "But where are we going to get clothes to fit him? My mom and your mom are way too thin."
Spence smiled. "Miss Lizzie," he said.
Denny's eyes opened wide. "Miss Lizzie? Do you really think she'll do it?"
"She's waiting for us right now at the edge of town," said Spence.”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
“Something like that.”
“Oh, c’mon, Spence, that routine is as old as the Three Stooges.”
“Probably older,” said Spence, laughing. “Actually I was thinking of something a little less dramatic.”
“Like what?”
“Like just walking out with him.”
Denny stared at Spence, then shook her head. “In one of the big hospitals in New York you might get away with that,” she said, “but in a little tiny hospital like Down East Community, it’ll never work.”
“It might, if he’s dressed like a woman,” said Spence.
Denny thought for a minute, then nodded. "Maybe," she said. "But where are we going to get clothes to fit him? My mom and your mom are way too thin."
Spence smiled. "Miss Lizzie," he said.
Denny's eyes opened wide. "Miss Lizzie? Do you really think she'll do it?"
"She's waiting for us right now at the edge of town," said Spence.”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
“Wilton Spencer," she said softly, "why do you have to be so damned smart?"
Spence smiled. "Darned smart," he said; then he wiped her tears away and kissed her on the tip of her nose.”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
Spence smiled. "Darned smart," he said; then he wiped her tears away and kissed her on the tip of her nose.”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
“A nurse walked in with some pills and a cup of water.
“I told you, I don’t need that stuff,” Mr. Jones told her. “What I want is a doctor so I can get out of here.”
The nurse smiled and winked at Denny and Spence.
“Your friend here is a terrible patient,” she said.
“I’m a terrible patient because I don’t belong here. Hospitals are for sick people, and I’ve got work to do. Now, are you going to get me a doctor, or am I going to have to sign myself out AMA?”
“AMA?” said Denny.
“Against medical advice,” the nurse explained. Then she slapped a blood-pressure cuff on Mr. Jones and stuck a thermometer in his mouth.
“Uffoldooommmnofffick!” Mr. Jones mumbled.
“Behave yourself,” the nurse told him, “or I’ll order you an enema.”
Mr. Jones sank back on the pillow and rolled his eyes. The nurse took the thermometer out and read it.
“The doctor will be in later,” she said, winking at Denny and Spence again on her way out.
Spence started to chuckle. “I guess she told you,” he said.
“Confounded hospitals,” Mr. Jones mumbled. “Once they get their hands on you they never want to let you go.”
“Well, you can relax,” said Denny. “The folks in town are taking care of the boat and—”
“What!” said Mr. Jones, bolting up in bed. “Ow!” He grabbed his head and lay down again.
“Hangover, huh?” said Spence.
“What do you mean, taking care of the boat?” asked Mr. Jones, his eyes scrunched up in pain.
“Hiram Turner and a bunch of the guys are going to clean her up and put her in the water for you,” said Denny.
Mr. Jones groaned. “It’s not that I’m not appreciative,” he said, “but are you sure they know what they’re doing?”
Spence smiled. “Those old boys know boats better than you know your backside,” he said. “They’ll have her bungs up and bilge free in no time.”
“Is that good?” asked Denny.
“I believe it means shipshape,” said Mr. Jones.
Spence nodded.”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
“I told you, I don’t need that stuff,” Mr. Jones told her. “What I want is a doctor so I can get out of here.”
The nurse smiled and winked at Denny and Spence.
“Your friend here is a terrible patient,” she said.
“I’m a terrible patient because I don’t belong here. Hospitals are for sick people, and I’ve got work to do. Now, are you going to get me a doctor, or am I going to have to sign myself out AMA?”
“AMA?” said Denny.
“Against medical advice,” the nurse explained. Then she slapped a blood-pressure cuff on Mr. Jones and stuck a thermometer in his mouth.
“Uffoldooommmnofffick!” Mr. Jones mumbled.
“Behave yourself,” the nurse told him, “or I’ll order you an enema.”
Mr. Jones sank back on the pillow and rolled his eyes. The nurse took the thermometer out and read it.
“The doctor will be in later,” she said, winking at Denny and Spence again on her way out.
Spence started to chuckle. “I guess she told you,” he said.
“Confounded hospitals,” Mr. Jones mumbled. “Once they get their hands on you they never want to let you go.”
“Well, you can relax,” said Denny. “The folks in town are taking care of the boat and—”
“What!” said Mr. Jones, bolting up in bed. “Ow!” He grabbed his head and lay down again.
“Hangover, huh?” said Spence.
“What do you mean, taking care of the boat?” asked Mr. Jones, his eyes scrunched up in pain.
“Hiram Turner and a bunch of the guys are going to clean her up and put her in the water for you,” said Denny.
Mr. Jones groaned. “It’s not that I’m not appreciative,” he said, “but are you sure they know what they’re doing?”
Spence smiled. “Those old boys know boats better than you know your backside,” he said. “They’ll have her bungs up and bilge free in no time.”
“Is that good?” asked Denny.
“I believe it means shipshape,” said Mr. Jones.
Spence nodded.”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
“Mr. Jones’s eyes were closed. His head was bandaged like a mummy’s and tubes came out of his arm, connecting him to a number of bottles overhead. Wires from his chest connected him on the other side of the bed to a little television set that went beep, beep, beep. A line on the television set went up and down like a mountain range.
“Does that look right to you?” Denny asked Spence.
“Looks fine,” said Mr. Jones abruptly. “When it goes all flat and starts whistling you got something to worry about.” He opened his eyes and smiled at them.
“Mr. Jones!” said Denny. “You’re okay?”
“Of course I’m okay. I’ve had hangovers that felt worse than this.”
Denny and Spence laughed.
“Did they get those hoodlums?” Mr. Jones asked.
Spence nodded. “They got most of the money back too,” he said. “All except about ten dollars.”
“That’s what I get for keeping my money under my mattress like an old fool,” said Mr. Jones. “Is Marty okay?”
Denny smiled. “He got banged up some,” she said, “but he’s okay—obnoxious as ever.”
Spence laughed. “Yeah,” he said, “and from what the police say, the kid that he tangled with got the worst end of the deal.”
Mr. Jones smiled and shook his head.”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
“Does that look right to you?” Denny asked Spence.
“Looks fine,” said Mr. Jones abruptly. “When it goes all flat and starts whistling you got something to worry about.” He opened his eyes and smiled at them.
“Mr. Jones!” said Denny. “You’re okay?”
“Of course I’m okay. I’ve had hangovers that felt worse than this.”
Denny and Spence laughed.
“Did they get those hoodlums?” Mr. Jones asked.
Spence nodded. “They got most of the money back too,” he said. “All except about ten dollars.”
“That’s what I get for keeping my money under my mattress like an old fool,” said Mr. Jones. “Is Marty okay?”
Denny smiled. “He got banged up some,” she said, “but he’s okay—obnoxious as ever.”
Spence laughed. “Yeah,” he said, “and from what the police say, the kid that he tangled with got the worst end of the deal.”
Mr. Jones smiled and shook his head.”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
“Denny leaned back in her chair. She put her hands together and rested her chin on them. Then she glanced at Spence out of the corner of her eye and smiled.
“What’s that look for?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said, giggling a little.
“Now, come on,” said Spence. “You’re laughing at me, and I want to know why.”
Denny grinned slyly. “No reason, Wilton.”
Spence slugged her playfully in the arm. “Oh, yeah,” he said. “Well, how about if I call you Denise?”
“There’s nothing wrong with Denise.”
“There’s nothing wrong with Wilton either.”
“Oh, no? Is that why you write W. James Spencer on all your school papers?”
“How do you know what I write on my school papers?”
Denny shrugged. “Just noticed.”
“Oh, yeah?” said Spence, puffing out his chest. “What else have you noticed about me?”
Denny rolled her eyes. “That you’re in love with yourself,” she answered.
Spence leaned over and whispered into her ear, “Sounds like maybe I’m not the only one.”
Denny blushed and turned her shoulder to Spence. “You’re impossible,” she whispered.
Spence leaned back and chuckled.”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
“What’s that look for?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said, giggling a little.
“Now, come on,” said Spence. “You’re laughing at me, and I want to know why.”
Denny grinned slyly. “No reason, Wilton.”
Spence slugged her playfully in the arm. “Oh, yeah,” he said. “Well, how about if I call you Denise?”
“There’s nothing wrong with Denise.”
“There’s nothing wrong with Wilton either.”
“Oh, no? Is that why you write W. James Spencer on all your school papers?”
“How do you know what I write on my school papers?”
Denny shrugged. “Just noticed.”
“Oh, yeah?” said Spence, puffing out his chest. “What else have you noticed about me?”
Denny rolled her eyes. “That you’re in love with yourself,” she answered.
Spence leaned over and whispered into her ear, “Sounds like maybe I’m not the only one.”
Denny blushed and turned her shoulder to Spence. “You’re impossible,” she whispered.
Spence leaned back and chuckled.”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
“We’ll fix it before then,” said Denny. “Don’t worry.”
Mr. Jones didn’t look convinced. “If it wasn’t for this dumb leg,” he shouted, “I’d jump ship and give you a hand.”
“No need,” yelled Denny, “I remember everything you taught me.”
Mr. Jones shook his head and smiled. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he said.”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
Mr. Jones didn’t look convinced. “If it wasn’t for this dumb leg,” he shouted, “I’d jump ship and give you a hand.”
“No need,” yelled Denny, “I remember everything you taught me.”
Mr. Jones shook his head and smiled. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he said.”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
“They had to park the Jeep, load the engine parts into the dinghy, and row across the bar, so by the time they reached the Misty Day Spence was already there, leaning against the cradle, puffing on a cigarette.
Mr. Jones frowned when he saw him. “How old are you?” he asked.
“Sixteen,” said Spence. “Why?”
“Do you know what your lungs are going to look like by the time you’re fifty?”
Spence shrugged, then nodded toward the ever-present pipe that hung from Mr. Jones’s lip. “No worse than yours, I guess,” he said.
Mr. Jones looked puzzled.
“He means your pipe,” Denny prompted.
“Yeah,” said Spence, “and don’t give me any of that crap about a pipe being not as bad as a cigarette. They’re all the same.”
Mr. Jones took his pipe out of his mouth and looked at it thoughtfully.
“You know,” he said, “you’ve got a point there. Kind of like the pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it?”
Spence nodded.
“Tell you what I’m going to do,” said Mr. Jones. “I’ll make you a little wager. I’ll bet I can give up smoking my pipe if you can give up your cigarettes.”
Denny bit her lip to keep from smiling.
Spence took another drag on his cigarette and stared at Mr. Jones skeptically.
“Of course, if you don’t think you’ve got the willpower,” said Mr. Jones.
Spence dropped his cigarette and crushed it into the ground. “I can quit anytime I want,” he said, then looked up. “But I don’t want to.”
“Oh, sure,” said Denny. “That’s what they all say.”
Spence looked at her and narrowed her eyes. “Who asked you?” he said.
“You just don’t think you can do it,” Denny went on. “You’re afraid Mr. Jones is gonna show you up.”
“Oh, yeah?” said Spence. He pulled his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket, smiled wryly at Denny, and tossed them basketball style into Mr. Jones’s trash barrel, then reached a hand out to Mr. Jones. “You got a deal, old man,” he said.
Mr. Jones shook his hand and nodded, then stuck the pipe back in his mouth. “You don’t mind if I just kind of let it hang here, do you, for old times’ sake?”
Spence shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said, “as long as you don’t light up.”
“I’m a man of my word,” said Mr. Jones. “No flame will ever touch this pipe again.”
Spence nodded and stalked off toward the shed.
Denny giggled. “You’re awful,” she said.
Mr. Jones winked. “What’s awful?” he said. “I’m doing him a favor.”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
Mr. Jones frowned when he saw him. “How old are you?” he asked.
“Sixteen,” said Spence. “Why?”
“Do you know what your lungs are going to look like by the time you’re fifty?”
Spence shrugged, then nodded toward the ever-present pipe that hung from Mr. Jones’s lip. “No worse than yours, I guess,” he said.
Mr. Jones looked puzzled.
“He means your pipe,” Denny prompted.
“Yeah,” said Spence, “and don’t give me any of that crap about a pipe being not as bad as a cigarette. They’re all the same.”
Mr. Jones took his pipe out of his mouth and looked at it thoughtfully.
“You know,” he said, “you’ve got a point there. Kind of like the pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it?”
Spence nodded.
“Tell you what I’m going to do,” said Mr. Jones. “I’ll make you a little wager. I’ll bet I can give up smoking my pipe if you can give up your cigarettes.”
Denny bit her lip to keep from smiling.
Spence took another drag on his cigarette and stared at Mr. Jones skeptically.
“Of course, if you don’t think you’ve got the willpower,” said Mr. Jones.
Spence dropped his cigarette and crushed it into the ground. “I can quit anytime I want,” he said, then looked up. “But I don’t want to.”
“Oh, sure,” said Denny. “That’s what they all say.”
Spence looked at her and narrowed her eyes. “Who asked you?” he said.
“You just don’t think you can do it,” Denny went on. “You’re afraid Mr. Jones is gonna show you up.”
“Oh, yeah?” said Spence. He pulled his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket, smiled wryly at Denny, and tossed them basketball style into Mr. Jones’s trash barrel, then reached a hand out to Mr. Jones. “You got a deal, old man,” he said.
Mr. Jones shook his hand and nodded, then stuck the pipe back in his mouth. “You don’t mind if I just kind of let it hang here, do you, for old times’ sake?”
Spence shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said, “as long as you don’t light up.”
“I’m a man of my word,” said Mr. Jones. “No flame will ever touch this pipe again.”
Spence nodded and stalked off toward the shed.
Denny giggled. “You’re awful,” she said.
Mr. Jones winked. “What’s awful?” he said. “I’m doing him a favor.”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
“The Jeep was parked at the beginning of the causeway when Denny got off the bus. She ignored it and started toward the island.
“Denise . . .”
Denny ignored Mr. Jones’s call and kept on walking.
She heard the engine start, and soon the Jeep was rolling along beside her.
“Picked up your mail,” said Mr. Jones. He handed some envelopes out the window. Denny grabbed them without a word.
“There’s a letter there from some old coot named Jones,” Mr. Jones said. “Looks like an apology.”
Denny looked down and ruffled through the envelopes. “There is not,” she said.
“No?” said Mr. Jones sheepishly. “Well, there should be. Guess he didn’t get around to writing it. He feels real bad though. I know that for a fact.”
Denny stopped and put her hand on her hip and stared at Mr. Jones.”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
“Denise . . .”
Denny ignored Mr. Jones’s call and kept on walking.
She heard the engine start, and soon the Jeep was rolling along beside her.
“Picked up your mail,” said Mr. Jones. He handed some envelopes out the window. Denny grabbed them without a word.
“There’s a letter there from some old coot named Jones,” Mr. Jones said. “Looks like an apology.”
Denny looked down and ruffled through the envelopes. “There is not,” she said.
“No?” said Mr. Jones sheepishly. “Well, there should be. Guess he didn’t get around to writing it. He feels real bad though. I know that for a fact.”
Denny stopped and put her hand on her hip and stared at Mr. Jones.”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
“Spence beached the boat and strutted up to where Denny and Mr. Jones were working. He stared at Denny and smiled. “You got enough of that shit on your face?” he asked.
Mr. Jones look up sharply. “What’s the matter with you?” he said. “You don’t talk to a lady like that.”
Spence laughed. “What lady?” he said.
Denny blushed. She could see the anger building in Mr. Jones’s eyes. “It’s all right,” she said quickly. “I don’t care.”
Mr. Jones turned to her. “Well, you should,” he told her, his eyes flashing, “and Mr. Spencer here would respect you more if you did, whether he realizes it or not.”
Spence snorted derisively.
“Well, like it or not, you keep a civil tongue while you’re working for me, mister, understand?” said Mr. Jones.
Spence shrugged. “You’re the boss,” he said, and started walking up toward the shack.
Mr. Jones picked up a nail. “You kids today use too darn much profanity anyway,” he yelled. He banged the nail into the brace. “You use it anytime, anyplace. It’s not right.” He banged another nail. “Shows a lack of respect, not to mention a deficient vocabulary.” He slammed another nail into the wood. “There’s a time and a place for profanity.” He held another nail and smashed the hammer down. “Aagh! Like now! Dammit!” He dropped the hammer and grabbed his thumb.
Denny covered her mouth and turned away so he wouldn’t see her laugh, but he saw anyway.
“Oh, very funny, huh?” said Mr. Jones.
Denny couldn’t stop giggling. Soon she had Mr. Jones laughing too. “That’s what I get for trying to defend your honor,” he said.
“Sorry,” said Denny. She looked up the hill and saw Spence duck into the shed. There was a burst of loud, muffled laughter, and she started giggling all over again.
“All right, all right,” said Mr. Jones. “Are you going to go get me a Band-Aid or do I have to stand here and bleed to death while you and your friend up there make sport of me?”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
Mr. Jones look up sharply. “What’s the matter with you?” he said. “You don’t talk to a lady like that.”
Spence laughed. “What lady?” he said.
Denny blushed. She could see the anger building in Mr. Jones’s eyes. “It’s all right,” she said quickly. “I don’t care.”
Mr. Jones turned to her. “Well, you should,” he told her, his eyes flashing, “and Mr. Spencer here would respect you more if you did, whether he realizes it or not.”
Spence snorted derisively.
“Well, like it or not, you keep a civil tongue while you’re working for me, mister, understand?” said Mr. Jones.
Spence shrugged. “You’re the boss,” he said, and started walking up toward the shack.
Mr. Jones picked up a nail. “You kids today use too darn much profanity anyway,” he yelled. He banged the nail into the brace. “You use it anytime, anyplace. It’s not right.” He banged another nail. “Shows a lack of respect, not to mention a deficient vocabulary.” He slammed another nail into the wood. “There’s a time and a place for profanity.” He held another nail and smashed the hammer down. “Aagh! Like now! Dammit!” He dropped the hammer and grabbed his thumb.
Denny covered her mouth and turned away so he wouldn’t see her laugh, but he saw anyway.
“Oh, very funny, huh?” said Mr. Jones.
Denny couldn’t stop giggling. Soon she had Mr. Jones laughing too. “That’s what I get for trying to defend your honor,” he said.
“Sorry,” said Denny. She looked up the hill and saw Spence duck into the shed. There was a burst of loud, muffled laughter, and she started giggling all over again.
“All right, all right,” said Mr. Jones. “Are you going to go get me a Band-Aid or do I have to stand here and bleed to death while you and your friend up there make sport of me?”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
“Mr. Jones had just started her on scraping the bottom when he came around the bow and stopped short. He shook his head in disbelief.
“How did you manage to get so filthy so fast?” he said. “Didn’t I tell you to wear a painter’s cap?”
Denny shrugged and squinted at him through her safety goggles. “I thought the wind would blow the old paint and junk away as I scraped it off,” she said.
Mr. Jones came over and took a closer look. “Look at your hair,” he said. “Your mother’s going to kill me. Try and shake some of that junk out of it.”
Denny leaned over and shook her hair in the wind. She was almost sorry she’d let it grow. Long hair was such a pain sometimes. She heard the putter of an outboard motor and looked up to see Spence making his way across the bay.
“Him again,” she grumbled, but she pulled the comb out of her back pocket and started furiously tugging at her hair.
Mr. Jones grinned. “Thought you couldn’t stand him,” he said.
“I can’t,” said Denny, whipping off her safety glasses.
“Oh,” said Mr. Jones; then he gave her a maddening smile and went back to rebuilding the cradle.
Denny glanced at Spence out of the corner of her eye as he approached. He stood at the wheel, wearing a knit sailor’s cap and an old navy peacoat. A shock of blond hair stuck out under the cap and was swept back by the wind. His dark eyes squinted into the sun, and the cut of his jaw was firm and square. Denny shook her head. “You’ve been away from civilization too long,” she told herself, “when somebody like him starts looking good.”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
“How did you manage to get so filthy so fast?” he said. “Didn’t I tell you to wear a painter’s cap?”
Denny shrugged and squinted at him through her safety goggles. “I thought the wind would blow the old paint and junk away as I scraped it off,” she said.
Mr. Jones came over and took a closer look. “Look at your hair,” he said. “Your mother’s going to kill me. Try and shake some of that junk out of it.”
Denny leaned over and shook her hair in the wind. She was almost sorry she’d let it grow. Long hair was such a pain sometimes. She heard the putter of an outboard motor and looked up to see Spence making his way across the bay.
“Him again,” she grumbled, but she pulled the comb out of her back pocket and started furiously tugging at her hair.
Mr. Jones grinned. “Thought you couldn’t stand him,” he said.
“I can’t,” said Denny, whipping off her safety glasses.
“Oh,” said Mr. Jones; then he gave her a maddening smile and went back to rebuilding the cradle.
Denny glanced at Spence out of the corner of her eye as he approached. He stood at the wheel, wearing a knit sailor’s cap and an old navy peacoat. A shock of blond hair stuck out under the cap and was swept back by the wind. His dark eyes squinted into the sun, and the cut of his jaw was firm and square. Denny shook her head. “You’ve been away from civilization too long,” she told herself, “when somebody like him starts looking good.”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
“When two figures emerged, Denny winced. What on earth was Mr. Jones doing with that loser? Marty was trotting happily alongside the pair. “Some judge of character he is,” Denny mumbled to herself.
Mr. Jones waved. “Denny,” he said. “Come here. I want you to meet my new hired hand.”
Denny’s mouth fell open and she stood motionless as the two approached. Spence grinned at her in his aggravating, superior way.
“Well, if it isn’t Miss High and Mighty from New Yawk.”
“You know each other?” said Mr. Jones.
“We’ve met,” said Denny shortly, then she turned and stomped off toward the boat. She watched from the cabin as the two circled the Misty Day, talking and gesturing; then Spence went back toward the engine shack and Mr. Jones made his way slowly up the ladder.
“Are you crazy?” Denny asked him as soon as he stepped into the cabin.
Mr. Jones smiled. “Some people seem to think so,” he said.
“I mean it,” said Denny, in no mood for jokes. “That kid is the biggest jerk in the whole school. He’s probably into drugs and everything else.”
Mr. Jones shrugged. “Seems like an okay kid to me,” he said. “Besides, he knows engines.”
“So do you,” said Denny. “We could have fixed the railway ourselves.”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
Mr. Jones waved. “Denny,” he said. “Come here. I want you to meet my new hired hand.”
Denny’s mouth fell open and she stood motionless as the two approached. Spence grinned at her in his aggravating, superior way.
“Well, if it isn’t Miss High and Mighty from New Yawk.”
“You know each other?” said Mr. Jones.
“We’ve met,” said Denny shortly, then she turned and stomped off toward the boat. She watched from the cabin as the two circled the Misty Day, talking and gesturing; then Spence went back toward the engine shack and Mr. Jones made his way slowly up the ladder.
“Are you crazy?” Denny asked him as soon as he stepped into the cabin.
Mr. Jones smiled. “Some people seem to think so,” he said.
“I mean it,” said Denny, in no mood for jokes. “That kid is the biggest jerk in the whole school. He’s probably into drugs and everything else.”
Mr. Jones shrugged. “Seems like an okay kid to me,” he said. “Besides, he knows engines.”
“So do you,” said Denny. “We could have fixed the railway ourselves.”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
“Well, then,” said Mr. Jones. “Denise, what do you say you and I go get some mussels?”
Denny eyed him skeptically. She didn’t particularly want muscles. “Doing what?” she asked.
“Pardon?” said Mr. Jones.
“What do we have to do to get these muscles?” she asked.
“Cut them off of rocks.”
“Cut muscles off of rocks?” said Denny.
“Yeah. They usually cling by their beards.”
Denny gave him such a look of total bewilderment that her mother burst out laughing. “I think we have another communication problem here,” she said. “The only muscle Denny has ever heard of is the kind in your arm.”
Mr. Jones threw back his head and laughed. “Well, then, come along,” he said. “It’s time you learned a thing or two about the creatures you’re sharing this island with.”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
Denny eyed him skeptically. She didn’t particularly want muscles. “Doing what?” she asked.
“Pardon?” said Mr. Jones.
“What do we have to do to get these muscles?” she asked.
“Cut them off of rocks.”
“Cut muscles off of rocks?” said Denny.
“Yeah. They usually cling by their beards.”
Denny gave him such a look of total bewilderment that her mother burst out laughing. “I think we have another communication problem here,” she said. “The only muscle Denny has ever heard of is the kind in your arm.”
Mr. Jones threw back his head and laughed. “Well, then, come along,” he said. “It’s time you learned a thing or two about the creatures you’re sharing this island with.”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
“Get a dog biscuit out of that cabinet there,” Mr. Jones told Denny.
Denny found a box of Milk-Bones and took one out.
Mr. Jones was picking up his tools. Denny held the bone out to him.
“Give it to him, not me,” said Mr. Jones. “Do I look like I want a Milk-Bone?”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
Denny found a box of Milk-Bones and took one out.
Mr. Jones was picking up his tools. Denny held the bone out to him.
“Give it to him, not me,” said Mr. Jones. “Do I look like I want a Milk-Bone?”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
“How do you go to the bathroom?” asked Denny.
Kathy Townsend blushed. “Denny, what a question!”
Mr. Jones laughed. “That’s okay,” he said. “Shows she’s thinking.” Then he winked at Denny and whispered, “Ghosts don’t go to the bathroom.”
Denny felt a tiny prickle run up her back; then she saw that her mother was laughing.
“I’m serious,” she said. “How?”
“See for yourself,” said Mr. Jones. He directed her into the forecabin and pointed toward a narrow door with a half-moon on it. Denny opened it. Inside, on the floor, was a little Porta Potti like the ones campers use.
When Denny came back out, Mr. Jones was still talking to her mother. “I’ll need a new head, of course, before I put the boat in the water,” he was saying, “but this one will do for now.”
Denny stared at him and gulped. “A new head?” she repeated.
Mr. Jones laughed. “Don’t look at me like you’ve just seen a ghost,” he said. “A head is what you call a toilet on board ship.”
“Oh,” said Denny, laughing at herself.”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
Kathy Townsend blushed. “Denny, what a question!”
Mr. Jones laughed. “That’s okay,” he said. “Shows she’s thinking.” Then he winked at Denny and whispered, “Ghosts don’t go to the bathroom.”
Denny felt a tiny prickle run up her back; then she saw that her mother was laughing.
“I’m serious,” she said. “How?”
“See for yourself,” said Mr. Jones. He directed her into the forecabin and pointed toward a narrow door with a half-moon on it. Denny opened it. Inside, on the floor, was a little Porta Potti like the ones campers use.
When Denny came back out, Mr. Jones was still talking to her mother. “I’ll need a new head, of course, before I put the boat in the water,” he was saying, “but this one will do for now.”
Denny stared at him and gulped. “A new head?” she repeated.
Mr. Jones laughed. “Don’t look at me like you’ve just seen a ghost,” he said. “A head is what you call a toilet on board ship.”
“Oh,” said Denny, laughing at herself.”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
“Denny had been a little skeptical of her mother's fix-it ideas ever since the night her mother had fixed the shower head drip by putting a balloon over the nozzle. Getting hit by a giant, ice-cold water balloon when she'd stepped, half-asleep, into the shower the next morning had not been Denny's idea of a swell way to start the day.”
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
― The Last Voyage of the Misty Day
