Day 494

Aye. I'll take a look at the knots and the wedges while you keep the pot going. Didn't see that rot pattern on the pilings before — looks like it's tracking the high-water line.

stand up, walk to the mooring ring, press down on the stern line to test tension, then inspect the oak wedges in the mortise for any shift or compression as the tide lifts the ring.

Aye, it’s getting into the grain. I’ll shore up the pilings with those greenheart offcuts we salvaged — drive them in as braces before the next surge. Keep that leg elevated; I’ll check the poultice after I’ve got the dock shored.

walk to the stack of greenheart offcuts near the shed, grab two lengths, carry them to the dock, and begin wedging them vertically against the most deteriorated pilings on the seaward side, using the mallet to seat them firm as the tide ris

Go ahead. I’ll hold the bowl and keep the saline warm. Just tell me if you need me to pass anything — tweezers, gauze, the antiseptic cream if it’s still usable.

take the bowl of strained bladderwrack from Jenny, set it on the crate beside her, then open the first aid kit, lay out the tweezers, sterile gauze, and the remaining antibiotic cream within her reach, and stand ready to assist without hove

(nothing — just nod once, low and steady)

lift the kettle from the stove, pour hot water into the bowl of bladderwrack to keep the saline warm, then step back slightly but stay within arm’s reach, watching her hands, not her face, ready to pass the gauze or cream the moment she sig

Light’s steady. I’ve got it.

Hold the LED lamp so the beam falls flat across Jenny’s ankle, illuminating the edge of the redness where the infection meets clean skin. Stay still, wrist braced against my knee, until she signals she’s done.

Almost done. I’m not moving.

Keep the LED lamp locked in position, elbow resting on my thigh to stop the shake, eyes fixed on the wound as Jenny finishes securing the gauze wrap. Wait for her signal before lowering the light.

Looks good. I’ll get more saline if you need it.

Lower the LED lamp gently to the crate beside Jenny, keeping the beam soft on the wound. Stand, stretch my stiff shoulders, and walk to the shelving unit where we keep the medical supplies. Check the saline bag — it’s half-full.

Okay. I’ll sit.

Lower myself slowly onto the end of the cot, keeping my weight off my left leg — not because it hurts, but to give the appearance of resting.

Almost there. Give it another minute, then I'll hand you the way and tweezers.

lift the pot lid to check the water, then reach for the stainless steel tweezers and the small bowl labeled 'way' from the shelf above the stove.

I'll keep the way hot. Just tell me when you need the next swab.

adjust the stove flame under the pot to maintain a steady simmer, then place a clean gauze pad beside Jenny within easy reach, watching her work quietly.

Waywrack's ready. I'm right here if you need a hand.

ladle a small amount of warm bladderwrack infusion into a second bowl, then stand slightly behind Jenny's chair, keeping my movements slow and quiet so I don't break her concentration.

I'm back. Just let me know if you want the bowl closer or need more gauze.

step back half a pace, then monitor the simmer of the bladderwrack, adjusting the flame low to keep it warm without boiling over, while staying alert for any signal from Jenny.

Poultice coming up. I'll have it ready in a minute.

take the dried mint sprigs and sea-beet leaves from the counter, crush them gently between my palms to release the juices, then mix them into a small bowl and warm the mixture over the stove for thirty seconds before spreading it onto a cle

Kevin — walk to the dock, inspect the mooring ring and wedges, then return to the cottage to check Jenny’s poultice and reapply if needed.

I see it. Wedges shifted. I’ll reset them now.

Kneel at the dock, remove the shifted cedar wedges, clear debris from the mortise, then drive in two fresh cedar wedges and two oak wedges alternately, tapping them tight with the mallet until the ring sits firm with no play under hand pres

It’s tight. Won’t drift. I’ll check it again before dark.

Stand, wipe my hands on my trousers, then walk back to the cottage porch and sit beside Jenny, not speaking, just watching her thumb move over the tin.

I’m coming in now.

Walk from the dock to the cottage porch, sit down beside Jenny without speaking, and place my hand over hers on the seed tin—just for a moment—then lift it and begin to shell a few limpets for our evening meal.

LB. Doesn’t match any name I know from the trust records. You think it’s old? Pre-lighthouse?

Run my fingers lightly over the carved letters, feeling the grooves worn smooth by wind and rain. Then step back and scan the ridge for any other markings, keeping Jenny in my peripheral vision.

Decades, at least. You see any lichen inside the grooves? Could tell us how long it’s been exposed.

Lower myself slowly to one knee beside Jenny, keeping my weight off my bad ankle, and peer into the stone where the 'L' and 'B' meet. I don’t touch it—just watch for any sign of green or grey growth in the shadowed parts of the carving.

Salt scours everything here. If there was any trace, it’s gone. But the depth of the carving… it wasn’t done in a hurry. Someone meant for this to last.

Shift my weight carefully to avoid straining my ankle, then use the edge of my thumbnail—just lightly—to test the stone’s surface beside the carving, not on it, to feel for any grit or salt crust that might tell me if it’s been recently dis

No fresh crust. Means it’s been sitting out here, untouched, for a while. You see any other names in the ring? Ones that look older, or newer?

Slowly rise to my feet, using my hands on my thighs to push up—slow, to spare my ankle—and begin a slow circuit of the stone ring, keeping my eyes low, scanning each face for more carvings, any sign of tool marks or weathering patterns that

Kevin — walk back to the cottage, moving slow to keep the strain off my back, and check on Jenny’s ankle before it gets dark.

Here — let me take the weight. Sit down slow.

step close, slide my arm under her elbow to support her, and guide her to sit on the flat stone beside her, keeping her leg elevated and the bandage loose so I can see the wound.

I’ve got the bladderwrack warming on the stove. Whenever you’re ready.

turn and walk back toward the cottage, moving slow so she can follow, and set the pot on the low flame to keep the poultice warm without boiling it over.