The woman is on a walk with an older woman,
updating her on her life. She tells the grey-haired woman about her job, her friends, how she’s feeling about this and that. The older woman tells her about a recent trip abroad, about the restaurant she just tried, about her book club and what she’s been gardening. They sip lattes through the plastic lids of their to-go cups and stop to look at a poetry post and comment on the very fine landscaping. They have enjoyed exploring this neighborhood, a departure from their usual route.
Now the woman is at a casual restaurant, eating a burger and drinking a dark ale with an older man. His head is smooth and shiny; the hair that does remain is white. They talk for a while and engage in the shared language of groan-worthy jokes. Then they get down to business, clearing aside their plates and napkins for the real main course. Will it be Boggle or cribbage this time? Either way, the competition is fierce. The woman feels pride when she ekes out a win. But then, so does he.
She is in a nice house, enjoying an expertly-cooked meal prepared by a man a few years older than herself. He is quiet but intelligent and his humor is wry. The woman at his side fills the silence, asking questions, making smart quips, gently rebuking the girl at the head of the table when she interrupts, demanding attention. They are comfortable together. The three adults joke about something involving the grey-haired woman and the bald man, a joke they’ve made before. After dinner the girl will latch onto the woman, telling her about her school play and dragging her outside to come see her fairy garden. The girl is nine years old, and she has a best friend. She is embarking on the SS Friendship for the first time, and she’ll have a whole crew of her own soon.
It comes as a shock to realize there are shipmates that have been here the whole time, going unnoticed. Where did they come from? At what point did they come aboard? Once upon a time, the older woman (though not so old) cradled a baby girl in her arms, the balding man (less bald then) sprayed Bactine on her knee when it was scraped, and the quiet man (then a boy) comforted her when the babysitter couldn’t. Now they are… here? It becomes evident that, although they’ve been below deck, they’ve actually been quite instrumental in keeping this ship afloat. They have patched leaks and reinforced the hull; hell, they practically constructed the keel itself. Now they are saluted and cheered when they pass by, partly because they deserve it, and partly because, quite simply, it is fun to shout, “Huzzah!”