smooth over the path and
people are less likely to remember you. Your interest is in the
boat, not the man who owns it, but you need his name and address to
find the boat.”
“I see.”
“You are sure of the name?”
“Yes. Ellsinore.”
“Then ask the librarian how to find that.
Town hall will only have records for this area so that is
worthless. Oy, I got another idea or two as well, but you start
with the library.”
“All right, Uncle. I’m going to need to get
my learners license as soon as I’m 16. So I can get where I need to
go. I also need to finish upgrading the brakes on the Monaro. We
got her running like a dingo but the old drum brakes stop her like
a land train.”
“Oy. Order the parts, I’ll put it on yer
bill.”
“Uh, Uncle Ginger? Can’t we use the computer
at the Insurance Company to access the database at the RTA and find
out if the Ellsinore is registered in Wales?”
“Now yer thinking. We do that next. Do yer
research first. Go to the library. Oy, the new springs came in
today. I’ll show you how that’s done after you clean out the
paddock.”
“Yes, sir.” Terry grabbed a shovel and
tossed it into the wheelbarrow.
“I’ll be back in an hour. I need to get a
tank of acetylene and some brazing rod.”
“Ok, Uncle.”
Ginger watched Terry’s back retreat and
realized he was not going to be able to control him for much
longer. He was getting too strong, too tall and too smart to
restrain. The only thing he was going to be able to do was direct
him. He shook his head and started the engine on his old truck.
Ginger had not been much for birthday
presents or Christmas presents. He was a firm believer in earning
what one received so Terry never got anything much given to him
because of a special day. He worked for what he got. On his 16th
birthday he got taken to the Road and Traffic Authority to take the
first of the tests. He passed the test and left feeling strong. It
was 10 weeks since he had remembered the name of the craft that had
chased him, and he had not yet been able to locate it. The name of
the craft was not so easy to cross-reference as the numbers would
have been.
The search would have been easier if Terry
had known to look in the VicRoads database instead of the RTA.
Ginger was unwilling to help in the search beyond basic advice. He
not only wanted his nephew to work through it himself, he did not
want the culprit found any too soon. There were things Terry needed
to master within himself before he could be considered ready for
the odyssey he was considering. For one thing, he could not legally
drive by himself for the next year.
It wasn’t until May of 1996 that Terry got a
break in his search. The Helping Hands Insurance Corporation sold
an insurance policy for a dark blue fiberglass Bullet boat with
dual Evinrude motors. The policy listed the name of the boat as Ellsinore, to be changed to Ripsaw . The man buying
the policy, Grant Macintosh, had his home and his automobile
insured with the Dartmouth Insurance Agency, a Helping Hands Office
in Orbost on the Snowy River, well to the south. The new owner of
the boat made his living by running several lumber mills.
Ginger got the letter from the Kingston
Agency and almost tossed it out, then he considered hiding it in a
drawer. His hand snaked over to where the bullet had torn into his
chest and he changed his mind.
The trip was 660 kilometers and there was no
way Ginger was going to allow Terry to go it alone. He knew that
with a teenager’s typical brash, he would try to go in like Hitler
into Poland and probably get arrested rather than learn anything.
Terry could still not drive alone, legally, and would not be able
to until he passed the driver’s test. He couldn’t take that test
until December. The trail might well be cold by then, however.
When Terry got home that day, Ginger only
told him that they would be taking a trip that weekend. He did not
tell him why or where they were going. He did
people are less likely to remember you. Your interest is in the
boat, not the man who owns it, but you need his name and address to
find the boat.”
“I see.”
“You are sure of the name?”
“Yes. Ellsinore.”
“Then ask the librarian how to find that.
Town hall will only have records for this area so that is
worthless. Oy, I got another idea or two as well, but you start
with the library.”
“All right, Uncle. I’m going to need to get
my learners license as soon as I’m 16. So I can get where I need to
go. I also need to finish upgrading the brakes on the Monaro. We
got her running like a dingo but the old drum brakes stop her like
a land train.”
“Oy. Order the parts, I’ll put it on yer
bill.”
“Uh, Uncle Ginger? Can’t we use the computer
at the Insurance Company to access the database at the RTA and find
out if the Ellsinore is registered in Wales?”
“Now yer thinking. We do that next. Do yer
research first. Go to the library. Oy, the new springs came in
today. I’ll show you how that’s done after you clean out the
paddock.”
“Yes, sir.” Terry grabbed a shovel and
tossed it into the wheelbarrow.
“I’ll be back in an hour. I need to get a
tank of acetylene and some brazing rod.”
“Ok, Uncle.”
Ginger watched Terry’s back retreat and
realized he was not going to be able to control him for much
longer. He was getting too strong, too tall and too smart to
restrain. The only thing he was going to be able to do was direct
him. He shook his head and started the engine on his old truck.
Ginger had not been much for birthday
presents or Christmas presents. He was a firm believer in earning
what one received so Terry never got anything much given to him
because of a special day. He worked for what he got. On his 16th
birthday he got taken to the Road and Traffic Authority to take the
first of the tests. He passed the test and left feeling strong. It
was 10 weeks since he had remembered the name of the craft that had
chased him, and he had not yet been able to locate it. The name of
the craft was not so easy to cross-reference as the numbers would
have been.
The search would have been easier if Terry
had known to look in the VicRoads database instead of the RTA.
Ginger was unwilling to help in the search beyond basic advice. He
not only wanted his nephew to work through it himself, he did not
want the culprit found any too soon. There were things Terry needed
to master within himself before he could be considered ready for
the odyssey he was considering. For one thing, he could not legally
drive by himself for the next year.
It wasn’t until May of 1996 that Terry got a
break in his search. The Helping Hands Insurance Corporation sold
an insurance policy for a dark blue fiberglass Bullet boat with
dual Evinrude motors. The policy listed the name of the boat as Ellsinore, to be changed to Ripsaw . The man buying
the policy, Grant Macintosh, had his home and his automobile
insured with the Dartmouth Insurance Agency, a Helping Hands Office
in Orbost on the Snowy River, well to the south. The new owner of
the boat made his living by running several lumber mills.
Ginger got the letter from the Kingston
Agency and almost tossed it out, then he considered hiding it in a
drawer. His hand snaked over to where the bullet had torn into his
chest and he changed his mind.
The trip was 660 kilometers and there was no
way Ginger was going to allow Terry to go it alone. He knew that
with a teenager’s typical brash, he would try to go in like Hitler
into Poland and probably get arrested rather than learn anything.
Terry could still not drive alone, legally, and would not be able
to until he passed the driver’s test. He couldn’t take that test
until December. The trail might well be cold by then, however.
When Terry got home that day, Ginger only
told him that they would be taking a trip that weekend. He did not
tell him why or where they were going. He did
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