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He scanned the shop fronts. Many had closed, or were in the process of doing so. The perils of living in a small town, he supposed. One, to his right, caught his eye. A big guy in ragged outdoors-wear had come out to bring in a sign that showed a collage of people rock-climbing, kayaking, caving, and hiking. Michael cycled over.
“Excuse me!” he called, as the man shouldered the door open.
The guy scowled. “We’re closed.”
“I won’t take a moment,” Michael assured him. “I just want to know if you rent equipment out. Surfboards, paddleboards, that kind of thing.”
The guy relaxed, his scowl easing into a smile. “Nah, man. Logan over at the pub does that.”
“Excuse me?” Had he just said…?
The man pointed across the square. “The Den, right over there. Go up to the bar and ask for Logan, he’ll hook you up.”
“The pub?” Michael asked dubiously.
He grinned. “You’re in Haven Bay, city boy. Things are different here. It pays to go with the flow.” He offered a hand, and Michael dismounted to shake it. “I’m Jack. You must be the new principal.”
Michael glanced down at himself to make sure he wasn’t wearing something that made his identity blatantly obvious. “How did you know?”
“Shane told me. Step number one to living in the bay: assume everyone knows everything.” He ran a hand through his hair, and used the sign to prop himself up. “We have poker night at Logan’s place above The Den on Friday evenings. You should come.”
“Okay.” He nodded slowly. “Thanks for the invite.”
“No problem,” Jack said. “Now, I’ve got to get out of here. Tonight is date night, and my girlfriend hasn’t realized she’s too good for me yet, so I need to keep it that way.”
Girlfriend. The word caused a dull ache in Michael’s heart, where the empty part was. He hadn’t had someone serious in his life for years, and the last time… it hadn’t ended well. Technically, he’d been betrayed, but considering the circumstances, he couldn’t bring himself to believe it was anything other than karma. He swallowed back the memories, and told himself the burning sensation was indigestion from the chicken salad he’d eaten for lunch.
“Thanks for your time. I’ll see you Friday.”
Jack gave a quick wave and carried the sign back inside. Michael hopped back onto his bike and crossed to the quirky, old-fashioned pub. A large sign hung over the door that read “The Den” in faded lettering. He locked his bike to a streetlamp and hung his helmet over the handlebars. As he entered, he had to blink, his eyes adjusting to the light. A massive wooden bar occupied the far wall of the pub, with liquor bottles lining a cabinet behind it. The walls were painted lichen green and long, narrow tables ran the length of the room from the entry to the bar.
A guy with shaggy blond hair, wearing an ugly Hawaiian shirt and sandals, was wiping the tables. He straightened as Michael entered and flopped his hair out of his eyes. “Hey there, can I help?”
“Hi,” Michael said. “I’m looking for Logan.”
The guy dropped his cloth, wiped his palms on his board shorts, and offered a hand. When Michael took it, he was yanked close and clapped on the back. “You’ve found him. Who sent you my way?”
“Jack, from the shop across the square. I’m interested in renting some watersports equipment.”
Logan nodded. “Jack only takes out guided tours. He doesn’t let people use his gear without him.” He strode to the door beside the bar and indicated for Michael to follow. When he did, they turned a couple of corners and he found himself standing inside a large room lined with surfboards, paddles, and wetsuits. The floor was damp, and the scent of seaweed and salt lingered in the air.
“Welcome to my second business. Part rental company, part surf school.” He crossed his arms and looked Michael up and down. “You an experienced surfer or paddleboarder? If you’re not, you should consider coming to one of the lessons I run in the mornings. They’re really good for nailing the basics.”
Michael made a vague sound of agreement, but had no intention of following through. He wasn’t exactly a group lesson kind of guy. He preferred to watch YouTube videos and muddle through. He’d been out half a dozen times since he first decided to try surfing and never had a mishap, beyond rolling ass-over-head through the waves once or twice.
“What’s your going rate for a surfboard rental?”
“Thirty bucks for an hour, fifty for two, seventy for anything longer than that, as long as you get everything back to me by nightfall.”
“Seems reasonable.” Michael backed up, waiting for Logan to lead them out. “You’ll probably be seeing me on the weekend.” It wasn’t like he had anything else to do, and when he accepted this new job, he promised himself he’d take at least one day a week off work. The Haven Bay school was small and rural, nothing compared to some of the high-pressure private schools he’d worked at, and as such, it allowed for a slower pace of life.
“Great.” Logan slid behind the bar and grabbed a can of coke from the chiller. “Can I get you a drink?”
“No, thanks.” Before the last of the light vanished, he needed to track down the gym. In a place this small, he doubted it would be difficult to find.
“I guess Jack’s already invited you to poker?” Logan asked.
Michael shook the wool from his head. “Huh?”
