“Eddie,” Teena said from her seat in the stern, “why don’t I sit there beside you and row with one of the oars? We’ve done it before. Just give me a little time to get the swing of it.”
“O.K.,” Eddie said tiredly.
Teena moved up beside him on the wide center seat and took the starboard oar handle in both hands. After a couple minutes of splashing and going in circles, they settled down to pulling together smoothly and evenly.
“Hey, this is the best deal,” Eddie admitted.
“You see,” Teena said, “even girls can be some help.”
Eddie smiled. As they were approaching the near end of the under water sand bar, he craned his neck around.
“Good,” he said, “those two men have gone, so we won’t run across them again.”
They kept pulling together. The water turned light in color as the sun reflected off the yellowish sand lying a scant ten feet beneath the surface.
Suddenly Teena stopped rowing. “Eddie,” she said, “what’s that?”
“What’s what?” Eddie asked, resting on his oar.