He stopped the boat, opened the cooler, and took out some sandwiches. “I’ve got turkey and ham and cheese, bottled water, and Diet Coke.” “I’ll have turkey and some water, thanks,” Kevin told him. He was beginning to enjoy Carlisle’s company. He had some more questions, though, and he figured this was the right time to get them answered. “What’s with the bird?” “You mean Scotch?” “Yeah.” “I don’t tell too many people this but since you asked—my father died two years ago, April twentieth to be exact. We were really close. “About a month after he was gone, Scotch showed up. I know it sounds crazy—that’s why I don’t tell too many people—I think Scotch is my father. He’s come back to keep an eye on me.” It was a strange story, but for some reason, in this setting, it made sense.
