Times of Uncle Ernest - Chesapeake City and Beyond Chapter 2

Times of Uncle Ernest -

Chesapeake City and Beyond

Chapter 2

Well, Nina, I was just about ready to jump up and run down Schaefer's long wharf to look for crabs along the pilings, when I felt hands squeezing my shoulders, rocking me back and forth. Then I felt a hand roughing up my hair and I knew it was Uncle Ernest.

"Moose the Goose," he said. "don't go falling in the drink. I'd hate to have to dive in and save you."

"I can swim, Unk; you know that."

"Not in that current, Moose," he said, slouching down next to me with effort, sort of grunting and almost spilling his drink. He was checking up on me, and after swirling the ice cubes around in his glass a few times—sort of gathering his thoughts—he gestured towards the canal and remarked, "That channel out there is deep enough for my submarine to move through."

"Submarine?" I asked. "You never told me about that. Where is it? Could we ride in it?"

"Now, Moose, don't get excited; it's no big deal. It was one I used to travel in. I don't have it now but, since we have plenty of time on our hands, let me tell you about it." So I sat up against the piling, leaned back, and listened as he began to relate his strange adventure.

"A while back I was home with my ear up to the radio, listening to the last race of the day from Delaware Park. Well, I lost big, and I felt so low-down that I caught a trolley to the waterfront, where the Wilson Line docked. The old steamer, the City of Wilmington, was there in her berth. I just stood there daydreaming, with my arms folded, gazing out at the dark water. In a few minutes I saw an old woman shuffling towards me. When she got closer I could see that she was in terrible shape. She was wearing a pair of beat-up boots that some worker had discarded. Her dirty, faded dress had been made from a feed sack. It had flowers painted on it the size of your fist, and printed in letters at the bottom edge were the words, 'Eastern States.'

"Good grief, Moose, she looked like something the cat drug in. She had a filthy shawl draped over her, and I don't think she had a tooth in her head. I say that because as she walked past me I said, 'Howdy Mom,' and she grinned at me and then glanced around the place as if trying to find something. Then she spied it, up along the dock farther. Moose, it was a garbage can, which she went over to and started digging into for scraps to eat. So I went over to her, took her by the arm, and led her to a coffee shop across the street. Well, I bought her coffee and a donut, and she really savored them, eating slowly and taking long, audible slurps from the cup.

“When I started to leave—sort of depressed and thinking about taking a vacation with Old Granddad—she blurted out, 'Wait, Sonny, I got something to show you.' 'Geez,' I thought, 'what have I got myself into?' After a short walk she led me to a deserted, rickety wharf that extended out into the water. 'There it is, Sonny,' she cackled, flashing me that toothless grin and pointing to a black canoe tied to a piling. 'Step in there, now, and try it out,' she demanded. But, Moose, I certainly did not want to get into that thing, which looked as unsafe as it was ugly. But she insisted, so to humor her I climbed into it gingerly as it rocked under my weight. Well, Moose, as soon as I plopped down onto the seat, eerie things started to happen. That canoe began to expand; it grew larger and wider, actually started enveloping me, and I felt … well, you know what it's like to have a bizarre, unworldly dream?"

"Sure I do, Unk. I once dreamed that I could jump long distances—first twenty feet, then 100 feet, then 100 yards. Pretty soon I was flying all over the countryside."

"Well, then, you know my feeling, only this was no dream. That canoe turned into a small submarine. Incredibly, it was lighted inside, and it had portholes and a cool periscope. Moose, I didn't know what to do, just sat there bewildered. I was trapped, and just as I started to panic the sub's engine started to purr." I'll tell you, Nina, Uncle Ernest really had me wondering, and before I could ask a question he rose from the dock edge, ruffled my hair, and with a "Sit tight, Moose," he went back into Schaefer's to refill his glass of booze.  [To be continued Friday, 4/20/2012]