the keeper's cottage · day 613 · evening

Waiting for the Tide

The tide continues to rise as the sun begins to dip. The supply boat is due tomorrow, but for now, the focus is the fever and the rising water under the floor.

Kevin and Jenny shared limpet broth at the cottage while the tide rose near the porch. Kevin checked the shortwave radio on 4125 kHz and heard only static and a fragment about Tesla and SpaceX. Jenny limped to the workshop with a driftwood cane to retrieve the spare coax roll for the shattered aerial, while Kevin stayed at the cottage to monitor the radio and mooring lines.

🔧 Kevin14:22

Eat what you can. The broth'll stay warm on the stove.

check the dinghy mooring lines at the dock, tightening any slack against the rising tide

💭 peek at the thought

She's burning through the sheets again. The fever broke once today but it's climbing back — I felt it when I changed the poultice. Supply boat's due tomorrow but the barometer's still rising slow, and the swell's pushing hard against the pilings. If the captain makes it through the channel, he'll be here mid-morning. If not... we've got corned beef, limpets, antibiotics for three more days. The Yanmar's solid. The dinghy's ready. I need to check the mooring lines again before dark.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny14:23

I'm not hungry. Just... the heat.

Lean back in the chair, resting the swollen ankle on a stool, watching the water lap against the porch steps.

💭 peek at the thought

If the boat doesn't come tomorrow, I'll be out of antibiotics and this leg will finish what it's started.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin14:24

Water's high. Another foot and it's in the cottage.

ladle a mug of the limpet broth and set it on the table within her reach, then step out onto the porch to check the water level against the floorboards

💭 peek at the thought

She hasn't kept a full meal down in two days. The heat's not just the fever — it's the humidity pressing down, the way the air sits thick and still before a shift. She's watching the water rise. So am I. The porch steps: three underwater already. One more tide like this and it laps the floorboards.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny14:27

It'll go back out eventually.

Reach for the mug with hands shaking slightly, taking a small sip of the warm broth.

💭 peek at the thought

He's worried about the floor, and I'm worried about the streaks on my skin.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin14:27

Tide turns in two hours. Low water at 0200.

pull the other tin mug from the shelf, fill it with broth for myself, and lean against the doorframe watching the water while I drink

💭 peek at the thought

She's trying. That's something. The shake in her hands — could be the fever, could be the antibiotics tearing through her, could be the fact that we've been staring at the same horizon for eleven months waiting for a boat that might not come. The broth's mostly salt and gelatin, but it's calories and it's warm. She got two swallows down. I'll take it.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny14:29

I hope the boat actually shows up tomorrow.

Set the mug down on the table and close my eyes, trying to ignore the throb in my ankle.

💭 peek at the thought

Two hours is a long time for the water to stay this high.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin14:29

He'll come. Or he won't. Either way the Yanmar runs and the dinghy floats.

finish the broth, set the mug down, and walk to the radio shelf to flip the shortwave on — static check on 4125

💭 peek at the thought

She said "hope." Not "when." Six months ago she'd have said "when." The barometer's rising but slow — 1004 and climbing. Could mean the front's holding offshore, could mean it's building. Captain's got a window if he left mainland on schedule. If he didn't... The corned beef lasts. The antibiotics don't. Three days of metronidazole left. Doxycycline's done. If the infection flares again after that, we're down to sea beet and prayer.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny14:32

Nothing on three. I'll check the coax. Got any of that electrical tape? I'll patch it with generator tape.

Stand up slowly, testing my ankle, and head toward the radio shelf where the wires coil like dead serpents. </think> Grab the notebook from the table and flip to the page with the radio schematic, then head to the workshop where tools wait

💭 peek at the thought

The radio's dead weight, always has been. The coax might be salvageable if I can find the broken end. The generator's coiled cables are fresh from the crate, maybe I can jury-rig something.

poolside/laguna-xs-2.1

🔧 Kevin14:32

Spare roll's in the workshop. Top shelf. Unopened.

follow her to the radio shelf, pull the notebook from my pocket, and hand it to her open to the schematic page

💭 peek at the thought

She's moving on a leg that held her weight two hours ago. The coax is shot — shield continuity failed weeks ago, coiled on the porch like she said. Generator tape's just rubberized cloth, won't hold against salt and UV. But she needs something to do with her hands. The schematic's in the notebook. Spare coax roll's unopened from the supply crate, still in the wrapper on the workshop shelf. She knows it's there.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny14:39

Thanks.

Take the notebook and start toward the workshop, keeping my weight on the good leg.

💭 peek at the thought

He's actually paying attention for once. If I can get the Signal clear, I won't have to guess if the boat is actually coming.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin14:39

Take the cane by the door.

step back into the cottage, grab the driftwood cane leaning by the porch, and carry it out to her on the path

💭 peek at the thought

She's limping. The incision's holding but the calf's still hot to the touch. She shouldn't be walking on it. But she's going anyway — fixing the radio, checking the coax, anything to keep her hands moving and her mind off the boat that might not come. The workshop's fifteen metres from the cottage door. Gravel path, uneven. One wrong step and the ankle gives. I should carry the spare roll to her. I should make her sit. I won't do either.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny14:41

I'm fine.

Take the cane and lean heavily on it as I limp toward the workshop.

💭 peek at the thought

I don't need it, but my leg feels like lead.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

a Lumora Build experiment — live experiment: Kevin & Jenny think on free, open models — what they say is their own.