Written for the “Kev’s Odyssey” series.
These characters were previously seen here.
“Blimey, this’s a proper expedition, innit?” Keith examined the heavy canvas bags with a bemused grin. “Sure you only want me to take you out to the island? Not headed for, I dunno, Antarctica?”
Wilma mockingly called “If we were, Todd would’ve made me spend a month learning how to hunt, dress, and cook penguins.”
“Aye, and it’d do you good, you feckless snip!” Todd shot back, his lazy lofty air unruffled.
“Uh-huh.” Wilma swung herself onboard the little motorboat with practiced ease.
The last three months had been an adventure in themselves - an adventure in learning how to adventure to Todd’s exacting standards. She’d been on and off boats, swum lengths fully clothed, completed two levels of first aid training, and they’d even done a “dry run” (or rather a “damp run”) in the last storm where they camped in a local field.
At least, after seeing how much work she was putting in and getting to know Todd and his mates, her parents were finally on board. Metaphorically; they were staying safely home but would be acting as mission control.
“How’s the compass, lass?”
Wilma inspected the worn brass instrument. “Yep, pointing right at the old lighthouse.”
“Then I reckon we’re good to go.” Todd nodded to Wilma’s anxiously hovering parents. “Don’t worry, your lass’s got a good head on her shoulders. Green, aye, but a good head nonetheless. We won’t be looking for trouble.”
“Right.” Wilma propped one foot on the jetty so she could give her mum and dad a hug each. Forbearingly not complaining when they hugged back tight and took a little too long to let go.
Honestly. You’d think she was a little kid going off on her first camping holiday without them!
But the excitement bubbling in her chest meant annoyance couldn’t take hold. Besides, once they’d been won over they’d been a lot of help. So she grinned at them and promised “I’ll tell you once we’re there, and set up - and enjoying that cheesy bake!”
“Hopefully it reheats alright.” Mum fretted, as if her cheesy bake didn’t reheat perfectly on the little camping stove every time. “I put a pot of chilli in there too, just in case.”
“Fab. Thanks, mum.”
Two easy meals! Well, probably more like six, knowing how Mum catered. Either way Wilma wasn’t complaining. That plus the muffins they’d made together meant the tinned food was merely for emergencies.
Wilma settled herself securely and waved goodbye until the figures on the jetty were too small to make out. Then she turned her attention to the lighthouse. The old lighthouse, the one which hadn’t operated since before she was born. No need for it anymore, with new lighting on ships and the bigger, brighter lighthouse on the mainland.
And yet…
She gripped the compass tight.
Had it also pointed this way for her grandfather? Why only during storms? She had so many questions. Many of them a decade old.
Now, finally, she might get some answers.
Prompt was “Compass”.
For my related microfics see here.