*34* Imminent Dangers


As we near the pier and the Isle Royale at dock, Juliet rubs the hinge of her jaw in the small space before one ear and casts keen eyes towards the horizon. Though it's sunny, strong squalls are dragging hard at protective tarps strapped down over awaiting cargo on the docks. Men cling to their hats, and women to those and their billowing skirts and I see several clots of sailors watching the surface of the lake with a weather eye.

"I feel it too. Climate's shifted." Outside, the vicious sporatic winds have the flags along the pier and on nearby buildings snapping wildly, often standing stiffly from their grommets as though laid out horizontally rather than hung vertically. 

The driver negotiates the car as close to the dock as he can get, then bids us wait and charges down to the Isle Royale's extended gangplank, the wind pushing at his back as he holds his cap i

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