A Teacup’s Perspective - Part 1

It is summer time. Which means that I had the urge to pull out one of my old short stories. I wrote this years ago at my grandfather’s cottage. I may occaisonally pull it back out to tease a certain wayward sailor. I hope you enjoy.

            To be entirely truthful, the teacup in question was not a teacup at all but rather a mug. But the teacup’s owners were not snoobish people. They were quite content to have their tea out of an old Canadian mug instead of the Queen’s best china. On this particular Tuesday afternoon, the tea cup was carried down to the dock full of Curbie’s favorite tea. But Curbie was not quite content, despite the fact that his tea was piping hot.  

            “Jeff’s sailboat hasn’t returned from behind the island,” Curbie said, “I think that it is high time I go and see if he needs help.” 

            The teacup was a bit disappointed as Curbie jumped into Faithful, the motorboat, to start the engine. By the time that Curbie got back the tea would be cold no matter how hard the teacup tried. Unfortunately, Faithful which had been a transport, a toy, and a rescue craft had finally given out. Despite Curbie’s every effort and the aid of his granddaughter the craft would not start. 

            “Well,” Curbie finally said, “We’ll just have to take Putt Putt out.” 

            “But Grandpa,” his granddaughter said, “That wooden boat is too old.” 

            “Nonsense,” Curbie said, “that boat is younger than I am and I’m going on this rescue mission”. 

Photo curtesy @LucaBravo on Unsplash

            So, preparations were made, and Putt Putt was in the spotlight. Just before leaving the dock the granddaughter threw a Dorito into the water.  (One of the ranch flavoured ones, because that is what the local water spirit preferred. The granddaughter was on quite good terms with all water spirits and this one especially since they had played together every summer.  She figured that staying on the water spirit’s good side in this case would be a good idea because the local wind spirits were iffy and had done in many good sail boats.) 

            Curbie grabbed his teacup.  The teacup’s mind was put to ease; he had been worrying that Curbie would leave without nourishments. 

            Off they set, with little Putt Putt pushing her wooden hull against the temperamental waves. Putt Putt’s thin hull had the teacup feeling every wave and her low sides let in the bitter spray that came off the lake. But patient little Putt Putt pushed her way across the width of the lake, putting Curbie and his granddaughter in sight of the stranded sailor.

Stay Tuned for Part 2.