On the Water, Forced on By the Winds...

With a gusty howl and a loud splintering crack the vessel became dislodged from its mooring at the dock. At that very moment a screen door creaked and clattered, footsteps rushing forward. "Quick! Hurry!" came a voice, partially disrupted by the wind... Fumbling with hands outstretched, hoping to grasp the edge of the tiny water craft.

Just then, a second person appeared, as if out of nowhere...

"I've got it. I've got it! I've g---..." Groaning with exertion, this as-yet unseen person begins to lose their footing beside the dock. In the same instant, the first person is caught off guard.

With an additional hearty gust, the struggling wooden boat breaks free from it's precarious location. As the boat is dislodged, a tattered blue-backed notebook skitters along, previously unnoticed. Gaining altitude as if by its own accord, the lined book is picked up by Mother Nature. It is then unceremoniously tossed into the water, waves lapping the dog-eared volume.

Muttering beneath their breath but having re-established purchase on the soaking wood of the dock, this second person, ball cap dripping beneath a sodden yellow rain jacket extends their wet palm in greeting.

"So sorry about your boat, sir. My name's Casey. Sure wish I could have gotten more traction just a moment sooner..."

"I'm Doc. Doc McGlew. Thanks for trying to help. I sure so appreciate you're rushing out to help me like that. Sure was kind of you..."

"Well hi there, Doc. It's a pleasure to meet you. I just did what any other seafarer or water-loving person is likely to do. Again, I'm just sorry I couldn't hold on."

Stiffening his spine against the unforgiving weather, Doc tugged down on the brim of his own hat. "Believe it or not, I'm not too worry about my ol' boat. It's been good and reliable to me over the years, but I've long since bade my goodbye to gainful employment on the water. That skiff was just for casual laps around the lakes and beaches nearby."

"To be honest, I'm more eager to locate my blue notebook. It came flying out of my pants pocket gaster than trout looking for a meal!" Taking a steadying breath, Doc swiped his hands aceoss his furrowed brow."

"Hmmm. The notebook, you say? What's the significance?," Casey asked curiously.

Smiling just a tad sheepishly, Doc straightened his frame again before answering. "Believe it or not, I never did name my water-dwelling transportation. Never did. Not this tiny boat nor any of the two commercial rigs I once operated. Didn't feel the need. But..." he paused.

"My noteooks? Those I've always named. It's because I like to write. Head cocked to one side in interest, Casey offered a small nod. "Long long ago I was a newspaper reporter. While I like dealing in facts and sharing information with readers when given the chance to, my creative passions were better suited to..."

Just then the howling wind managed to pick up even more speed. "Hold that thought, Doc, Sir. These winds are gettin' feistier with every passing minute. Let's get back inside, out of this stuff. I'll buy you a cup o' coffee and you can tell me more." Placing a hand on the older man's back, Casey took a step forward.

Scuttling toward the nearest building, Doc and Casey moved silently. The only sounds coming from the protesting atmosphere and the nearby water craft.

Reaching the weather-beaten structure in succession, Doc leaned forward and yanked the door ajar. Upon entering, greeted by the sounds of two other patrons and a tinny but well-loved jukebox, both men found seats.

As if automatically, rapidly a gentleman nearly the same age as Doc came beside them, and, without a word, gifted each with a saucer of coffee - black for Casey - a splash of milk and two sugars for Doc.

"Hey, thank you Sir. But how did you know?" was Casey's query.

"Call it intuition, youngster. I've been working at this tiny shop by this beach. Come in just one time before and, if I was the one to serve ya then, I'll remember exactly how you take yout coffee - unless and until you specify a different order!"

"Mighty fine of you, Gus. Thank ya," nodded Doc with a smile.

As if embarrassed by the kind appreciation, Gus tipped his head up and down quickly and departed, leaving Doc and Casey by themselves.

"Doc, what were you sayin' about your notebook out there?" Shifting in place Casey gestured past his left shoulder in the direction of the noisy squalls.

Doc grinned. "Though I enjoy fact-finding, and though I was fortunate to cover many remarkable stories in my prime as a newspaper reporter, I came to realize that I was drawn more to fiction writing. And once I allowed myself to indulge in that creative endeavor, a thought came to me, as if from out of the deep blue sea.

I'd probably never become wealthy from my storytellin', so I wouldn't need a pen name. But, much like the process of developing fictional characters and their various backstories where each is unique, so are the notebooks that the ideas are stored in. With that in my mind, I decided that - like the characters I hoped to create - each notebook should have it's own carefully chosen name, too."

Taking a satisfied swig of his coffee, Doc paused a moment. Casey smiled, interested, yet not quite certain what to say.

"Casey, that notebook out there? That blue one that was torn free from my pocket? That one's my eighth notebook. That one's name is Ripley... believe it or not! I opted for that moniker once I became aware of my fondness for that expression: 'Believe it or not!'"

Grinning still wider, Doc McGlew said, "It remains uncertain if we'll be able to locate my Ripley once this weather settles, but, whether or not I am physically able to recapture my notebook and the stories it holds, that Ripley character sure will have an adventure. One way or another, if the wind carries him to a distant place, or if Nature lays him down to rest locally in the rocky surf, he will have the wind in his sails, and a tale will - somehow - be told.

Which will be carried farther by the gailing forces? The wind-rocked boat or its notebook counterpart? Can either be recovered before sustaining more damage? It remains to be seen...