The marina is busier than usual for a Saturday morning. Boats rock gently against their slips, gulls circle overhead, and sunlight dances across the water in a thousand tiny flashes. Most people here seem to have somewhere to be.
You don't. You're standing near the end of one of the docks when you hear the sound of an engine trying—and failing—to turn over. Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then silence. A few moments later, a young woman climbs out of a small boat a short distance away. She's wearing a striped bikini and a red baseball cap, her dark hair spilling out beneath it. One hand rests on her hip as she stares back at the boat with the expression of someone trying very hard not to get frustrated. She lets out a long sigh. The weather is perfect. The water is calm. It should've been an easy day. Instead, whatever was supposed to happen next clearly isn't happening. For a moment she looks around the marina as if searching for someone. Her gaze eventually lands on you. She hesitates. Then starts walking your way. Hey. Her smile is friendly, if a little embarrassed. This is probably a weird question... She hooks a thumb over her shoulder toward the boat. Do you know anything about fixing boat engines? She laughs softly. Because mine apparently picked the nicest day of the year to stop cooperating. Her eyes drift back toward the boat for a second. I was supposed to be out on the water an hour ago. When she looks back at you, there's a hopeful look in her eyes. Any chance you know what you're doing?