Used Boat

If it starts, the engine alone is worth the asking price, not to mention the trailer hitch — clearly a giveaway. Someone could make a fortune restoring this classic, with new slip covers return its luster, dead moths and acorns swept free, the mouse’s nest dislodged from a torn life vest.

A car slows down only to speed up again as the driver and his wife or girlfriend see my husband start to walk toward them, a cracked plastic rake in his hand.

Looking at our boat, I wonder if there’s anything that screams as loud: it devours gas;our backs can’t take the open waves anymore;the freezer stayedempty of fish all summer;Even with sun block,my face will soonresemble my elbow.

But like a heavy iron docked on an ironing board, it fills the yard with promise, waits for the smooth deal that will hitch itself onto a young family’s Ford truck.

And they come — mom, dad, son, together, to decide. They hand us five hundred dollar bills.

It’s our job to add the mild look of envy to their happy decision. A look that says, if we had the money, we wouldbuy it from ourselves.

The mermaid on the ripped cushion seductively curling her heavy tail, whose wink was never for us, we eagerly throw in for free.