At midnight I was woken by Cookie. She wore a hat on her head from 1928, the year before the stock market crashed, and an odd array of other people’s clothes. I recognized my grandmother’s pearl necklace.
“We’re going to set sail. Do you want to come?”
“I don’t know.”
She said something strange.
“Well, then come. If you’re ever caught, it’s best not to know.”
I got up and put on a black dress with sequins and a sky blue hooded sweatshirt. Cookie nodded her head in approval.
Monkey and Jeeep joined us at the dock. We all hardly fit in the canoe. It was so low in the water that each time we shifted our weight, the dark water rushed in over the side. Half way out my dress was soaked and I was shivering. Monkey splashed me with water from his paddle and Cookie pinched behind his knee with her fingernails and rubbed my arm with her other hand. “Don’t be an asshole, Monkey, she’s freezing.”
When we reached the upturned white bellies of the sailboats, we were sitting in two inches of water. We paddled through the boats reading the names outloud. Cookie still had her hand on my arm, and she gave a tug. “Signe, you pick.”
I picked a boat named “Ginger.” My favorite cookie. And we set sail while everyone else was asleep.
