Children's Fiction
To begin with, Timmy missed the excitement and adventure of towing barges and meeting other tugs, but he soon began to make new friends. Captain Jones took him out into the Georgia Strait once a week, to keep his engine in good shape and so he could watch all the tugs and ships going by. Occasionally a tug would be coming through Porlier Pass and the skipper would stop for a chat. One time Timmy was very excited to find that it was Frank, in command of his new tug, with Derek as his mate.
Captain Jones passed the time carving model ships from pieces of driftwood that he found on the beach, he sold them in the island shops...In the evenings, Timmy and his old friends spent many happy hours recalling the adventures they had over the years.
"Shiver me timbers," Captain Jones would say, with a twinkle in his eye, "you've been a working tug for close to seventy years, Timmy. You've really done us proud!"
"Don't move," came a harsh whisper. "Don't try to turn around. I've got a gun."
Someone had come up behind me from the dark hallway that led to the bedrooms.
That same someone snapped off the light at the switch on the wall. That left us alone in the dark, me and someone with a gun and a harsh whisper.
