Annie awoke the next morning feeling worse for wear. Her head hurt, and the rocking of the boat caused her water bed to rock, which rocked the contents of her stomach. She remembered Clark had said breakfast was caviar and mimosas, and she groaned. What she wouldn't give for a piece of toast or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich right now.

Someone knocked on her door. She tried to sit up, but gave up in a pathetic fashion.

"Who is it?" She croaked.

"It's Newt."

"Just a minute." She pushed herself up and stumbled out of bed. She grabbed a silk robe that had been hanging in the closet and tied it on haphazardly. Opening the door, she peered out at Newt, whose brown eyes were bright and excited.

"Morning," he said, voice chipper. "Sleep well?"

Annie almost shut the door in his face but grumbled at him instead and sulked back to the bed. She fell onto it and buried her face in a velvet pillow.

"What time is it?" Came her muffled voice.

"Six a.m."

She turned over and stared at him. "But breakfast isn't until nine."

"I know." He bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. "I want to get a head start on the boat."

"And you couldn't do that without waking me up?" She threw a pillow at him, which he dodged easily. "Come back in two hours."

Newt snickered at her sorry state but acquiesced and closed the door gently behind him. He was glad he had built up a tolerance on Frypan's sauce and hadn't had to suffer her fate.

He went up the stairs and found he was the only one awake. The sky was turning from a rosy pink to a light blue, and a cool breeze wafted across the deck and ruffled his hair. He shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. The ramp had been pulled in for the night, but he had watched Clark operate it the day before, and he repeated his motions. Soon it stretched from the boat to the dock and he walked down it, toward The Timmy Too.

It was quiet outside. The waves moved rhythmically against the dock, steadying his mind. He looked up with interest at the birds flying overhead. Every so often one would swoop down with lightning speed and dive into the water, coming back up with a tiny fish in its mouth. He was glad for a reprieve from Clark's constant talking and from Marilla. She seemed determined to make him as uncomfortable as possible, and he grimaced as he remembered her coming to his room last night uninvited.

He climbed aboard the boat and walked around its deck. He had the same impression as yesterday - it was nothing fancy, but it would suit their purposes well. He smiled and went to look at the engine.

It wasn't a large engine, and he looked over the various metal parts and tubing, pushing things this way and that to see if he could figure out what the problem was. He didn't know how, but he remembered what many of the parts were. Probably some subconscious knowledge he had learned before the maze. He tinkered for about an hour, continually wiping away sweat that beaded on his brow despite the cool morning air. He had just pulled a spark plug out with a torque wrench when he heard footsteps approaching on the deck outside.

"Good morning!"

It was Clark's voice. Newt frowned at this intrusion to his peace, but answered anyway. "I'm in here!"

Clark entered the room and looked at Newt and the progress he had made on the engine. He had a pipe lit, and the scent of cherries and vanilla filled the room.

"I see my intrepid explorer wanted to get a head start on seeing his friends."

"Hope that's all right," Newt said as he wiped his hand across his forehead, smearing grease in a thick black line.

"No trouble at all," Clark said. "The sooner I can get you out of here the better." He crouched down and looked closer at the work Newt had done.

"You're quite handy," he said with some surprise. "Have you done this before?"

"Not that I know of."

Clark eyed him curiously at this cryptic statement but did not ask any more about it.

"Think we need to replace the spark plugs and the filter," Newt said. "Shouldn't be hard, if you have the parts."

"I'm sure we have what we need on The Marilla." He stood up and breathed in through his pipe, the tobacco glowing a bright amber in the dim room. "How about we go back for breakfast and then we can take a look?"

"All right." Newt wiped his hands on his pants and stood up. He followed Clark back to the larger boat, where, same as yesterday, Annie was sitting at the table with Marilla.

She looked less peaky, but hadn't touched the food around her. Instead, she was ripping pieces off a bland-looking slice of toast and chewing on them slowly.

"Good morning darling," Marilla said to Clark. "Newt," she added.

"Newt is quite handy, jellybean," Clark said to Marilla as he kissed her cheek and then sat down. "Think we'll be done with the boat sooner than I thought ... isn't that a treat?" He eyed her as he tapped his pipe into the ashtray.

"That's wonderful news darling," she said. She put her hand on top of Clark's and looked at him with glowing eyes. "But first, Annie and I were just talking - you know what we haven't done in ages darling – had a dinner party. How about we all get together tonight, make it a real elegant affair? That way if the boat gets done early, we can have one coup de grâce before they leave."

Newt's face fell. That sounded like a terrible idea to him, and the last thing he needed before trying to get the boat finished and out of this port town and away from these strange people. But he looked at Annie, whose eyes were lit up, and without meaning to he nodded in agreement.

"Great!" Marilla said. She stood up, pushing away her half-touched plate. "I'll go speak to Luann about the menu."

She disappeared before anyone could change their mind. Clark sipped slowly on his coffee - spiked with Irish whiskey - while Newt shoveled the food on his plate into his mouth. He was eager to finish and go look for the parts with Clark. Maybe if he got done in time, they could avoid the fancy dinner all together. He'd make it up to Annie somehow.

"Slow down boy," Clark chided. "You're a man, not a beast."

Newt wanted to roll his eyes but slowed down to appease his host. Annie looked over at him and winked, and he felt himself relax.

"You've really made Marilla's day by agreeing to this," Clark said. "She hasn't been the same since we left - it was parties every night of the week, and then nothing."

"I'm looking forward to it too," Annie said. "If there's anything we can do to help, let us know."

"Please," Clark said in an amused voice. "Marilla lives for this. She'll have everything done before you finish breakfast."

As if she had heard him talking about her, Marilla reappeared from the crew quarters, paper in hand.

"It's all set!" She said, waving the paper around. "I think you'll be pleased with the menu darlings, though I think I'll keep it a surprise. Annie, do you have something to wear for tonight?"

Annie narrowed her eyes at Newt teasingly, thinking about the items he had removed from her suitcase back at the apartment.

"No, I do not." She said.

"Oh no matter darling, I'm sure I have something for you. Oh, this will be a delight! Clark, you must look straightaway and see if you have something for Newt to wear."

"All right." Clark pushed away from the table and stood up.

"Wait!" Newt interjected. "We're supposed to look for parts?"

"Oh, right." He put the stem of his pipe back into his mouth. "Sorry Marilla. After we're done."

He waved a hand at Newt. "Come with me."

Satisfied that Clark would not get distracted again, Newt followed him. The storage room was past their bedrooms at the end of the hallway below deck. It was well-organized, but there were still dozens of containers on shelves they had to pore through. Eventually Newt found spark plugs sitting in the bottom of a plastic bin. Unfortunately, there were no filters small enough to fit the trawler engine, but he wasn't going to let it be a setback.

"I saw a rental shack on the way in, do you reckon they'd have one?" He asked Clark.

"No, they just have boogie boards and banana boats and the like. Nothing like what you're looking for."

He glanced at Clark. He didn't even want to ask what a 'banana boat' was. Probably something as stupid as a waterbed.

"There was a boat repair shop in town though, a few miles to the northwest," Clark said. "But I don't know if that would be safe."

Newt stood up. "When was the last time you went there?"

"Oh, before we came to The Marilla. It was just crawling with those … things." He shuddered. "Haven't had the heart to go back."

"I bet Annie and I could manage it," Newt said. "We could be back by dinner."

"That's very brave of you dear boy but I do not want you two taking that risk."

"The last few years of my life have been defined by taking risks," Newt said. "If you tell me how to get there, I think I'll take my chances. I need to get The Timmy Too fixed."

He felt bad sounding so impatient, but couldn't help the ache he felt inside himself to get out on the water as soon as possible. Clark's permission was not something he cared about at the moment.

"Hmm," Clark mused. "I can tell you're passionate about this. Who can blame you - it's a real hero's journey you're on."

He tapped his fingers on some metal tubing, considering. "Okay, how about this - you go, but Annie stays here?"

Newt jerked his head back in surprise. "What? Why?"

"Because it's dangerous out there for a girl of her constitution, and if I impede Marilla's plans I'll never hear the end of it."

Newt crossed his arms and gave Clark a wry smile. "No offense Clark, but I think she'd rather go with me than stay here and play dress up like some doll."

"Would she?" Clark asked. "A girl her age ... tell me, if you were her, would you rather go to a town full of bogey-men, or stay aboard a luxury ship and be pampered by an award-winning actress?"

"I think it's really up to her. And if I know Annie, she'll want to go with me."

"Nonsense," Clark said. "Women never know what they want, especially the pretty ones. Need a man to tell them what to do so they can keep their minds free to think about other things. Though in my experience, there's not much thinking going on in those little brains of theirs besides shoes, clothes, and money." He laughed. "But, no matter, we don't keep them around for the stimulating conversation, eh my boy?" He winked and nudged Newt in the side.

Newt's mouth fell open. He had never heard someone speak that way about women before. He had always had respect for Teresa, and Brenda. It made him angry to know Clark felt that way.

Clark must have taken his look to mean he agreed with him, because he patted him roughly on the back and said, "Good chap, I knew you'd see it my way."

Newt stared at him, and opened his mouth to protest, but Clark continued before he could.

"So you go then, and when you get back, I'll have a suit all laid out for you."

He pushed Newt gently out of the storage room and then walked upstairs, across the deck, and to the edge of the boat, lowering the ramp once more.

Newt stood back, eyebrows furrowed. He didn't think it was right to go without Annie, but somewhere inside a doubting voice nagged him that it would be enjoyable for her to spend time with Marilla getting ready, especially after he had barred her from taking anything nice on their journey. He shook his head - Clark's persuasive attitude was getting to him, and it made him feel uneasy.

"Let me just grab some things and I'll go," Newt called out to Clark. "Just a minute."

He went below deck and into his room. Everything was just as he had left it, and he picked up his bag and loaded it with necessities. Few water bottles and a snack bar from the mini fridge, a handkerchief, his torch. He went next door to Annie's room and grabbed the gun from under her bed. Satisfied that he had everything he needed, he swung his bag onto his back.

Someone cleared their throat near the door.

"Going somewhere?"

He jumped. "Shit Annie, you scared me."

"Sorry." She came in and sat down on the bed. "What are you doing?"

"Going to town."

Her eyes widened. "What? But Clark said it was overrun with cranks …"

He snorted. "Don't worry about what Clark says."

"But it could be dangerous, Newt," she said, ignoring his flippant attitude. "One we can handle, maybe, what if there's more?"

"More than me, you mean?" He asked. "Or have you forgotten?"

Annie eyed him curiously. He wasn't acting like himself. He moved about in an agitated manner, avoiding her gaze.

"Are you all right?" She asked finally.

He stopped pacing and sighed, running his hand through his hair. "Sorry," he said. "I just don't like that guy. He's got klunk for brains."

"Oh." She looked down. Sure, Clark was eccentric, but she thought he was all right. She picked her bag up off the floor.

"So when are we leaving then?" She asked in a light tone, trying to break the tension.

He sighed again. "No we Annie, just me."

"What?"

"You're supposed to stay here."

Her mouth parted. "Are you ... are you serious?"

"Clark doesn't think it's safe, and he said Marilla wants to help you get ready for dinner."

She got up from the bed. "And you agreed to this plan?"

He played with the hem of his shirt. "No, but ..." He went silent.

"Wow ..." She crossed the room until she stood in front of him. "I don't know what all he said to you Newt, or why you're in such a bad mood. But you're an idiot if you think I'd let you go anywhere without me. So shut it, and let me get my things."

He looked down at her, heart warming within him. When he saw her determined expression, he knew Clark had been wrong - about everything.

"Screw it," he said, grinning.

They went above deck, both wearing their backpacks. Clark eyed Newt with obvious irritation from the railing.

"We'll be back before dinner," Newt said as he walked past.

Clark grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"What are you doing?" He asked through his teeth. "I thought she wasn't going."

"Sorry," Newt said, pulling his arm out of his grip. "Guess she knew what she wanted."

Clark crossed his arms and puffed on his pipe while he watched the pair go back down the ramp and onto the docks.

The town wasn't far away. Clark's scribbled directions were hard to follow, but eventually they could find it using common markers he had described. They were met first by rundown houses, their pastel shakes faded so much by the sun they were almost all the same color. The road they lined led to an intersection, with an entire corner dedicated to a large sports pub. It had a sign outside advertising a Friday night trivia contest, with the grand prize being a new fishing rod. The pub was their landmark to take a right and head toward the woods. Newt felt himself relax as they continued on. If the town had been overrun before, it apparently wasn't now.

The woods were quiet, except for various critters scurrying about. A branch snapped to their left, and Newt reached behind his back, but stopped once he saw it was just a bird gathering twigs and dead leaves for a nest. Annie laughed nervously, shaken by the noise. She moved closer to Newt.

After a few minutes they passed through the last of the trees and came to a clearing with the boat repair shop sitting in the center. It was old and falling apart and overtaken on the outside by weeds. A faded wooden sign barely hung onto the overhang by one corner, and the door into the shop was missing its screens. They walked up the gravel path and pushed open the door which slammed back into its frame loudly once they were through.

Inside, a counter lined the back wall, topped with an old-fashioned cash register and glass jars filled with lures and wrapped candies. Supplies covered the walls and floor of the shop, ranging from yellow rain hats to large metal anchors. Newt walked around the room in one direction, looking through baskets and on shelves for a filter that would fit the small engine. Annie went the opposite way, looking at various trinkets with interest. There were statues of mermaids, old maps showing buried treasure, seashells from the deep. She tried to imagine what the person was like who had run the store. Probably an old man with a long beard and a yarn to spin about his time at sea.

"Got it!"

She set down an old compass that only pointed west and turned to Newt, who held up a filter triumphantly.

"Better take a few more," Annie said, shuddering as she picked up the jawbone of a shark. "Just in case."

He nodded and grabbed two extra, then took his backpack off, and zipped them inside. Satisfied he had what he needed, he went to the counter and dug his hand into a glass jar, pulling out some hard candies and pocketing them. He tossed one to Annie, who opened it and popped the watermelon-flavored treat into her mouth. They walked out of the store and went back through the woods, keeping their eyes peeled for other's but not feeling very bothered.

On the other side, Newt stopped and folded his arms over his chest, gazing at the pub and abandoned houses with a frown.

"Annie," he said, mouth making sucking noises on his candy.

"Yeah?" She stopped walking and turned to look at him.

"Don't you think it's weird there's no one here?" He asked. "I mean, I know Clark exaggerates, but I was expecting to run into someone."

She shrugged. "I don't know. People move on ... he did say it's been a few months."

"I was just thinking ... if I'd known the town was empty, I reckon I would have preferred to stay here. One of these houses must have beds and food."

She rolled her eyes. "You just want to get out of the party."

"No. Well I mean, yeah, but, that's not what I meant."

"What did you mean then?"

He frowned, not sure how to explain it to her without sounding paranoid.

"Nothing," he said. "Forget about it. I'm not sure what I meant." He turned back around and continued walking, Annie following near his side.

But try as he might, he couldn't get rid of the nagging feeling that something was wrong. That perhaps Clark had told them the town was overrun on purpose, just to get them to stay on his boat. But then why was he so worried about Annie going too if there was no real danger? He put the thought out of his mind and focused instead on the thing he was most afraid of.

His next trial.

A formal dinner with the Montgomery's.

Clark waited at the railing, smoking a cigar with narrowed eyes. He straightened with relief when he saw Newt and Annie coming down the dock.

"How was it?" He called out anxiously.

"Fine," Newt said as he climbed the ramp. "Nothing to worry about. It was actually quite deserted."

"Is that right?" Clark asked. "Well, it has been awhile since I've been there."

Marilla appeared, hurrying across the deck toward Annie. Her hair was up in rollers, and she had a full face of make-up on.

"You're back darling!" She said. "I simply couldn't wait to get ready, but now we can get ready together - come, quickly. There's not much time!"

She grabbed Annie's hand and pulled. Annie gave a quick glance back at Newt, but was dragged away before she could offer him any reassuring words.

"Come on Newt," Clark said. "Let's have a drink before we get ready - ladies always take forever."

Below deck Marilla shut the bedroom door and handed a glass of bubbling champagne to Annie.

"Cheers darling. Sip on this while I get something."

She went over to the closet and pulled out a black garment bag. She walked back to Annie slowly, smiling with anticipation.

"Open it."

Annie ran the zipper up, and her mouth parted in delight.

"It's gorgeous!"

She ran her fingers gently over the soft black fabric, looking at it longingly.

"It's Valentino, darling."

Marilla pulled the dress out of the bag and held it up to Annie's form.

"Oh, this will look simply marvelous on you."

Annie's eyes widened. "On me?"

Marilla nodded and pursed her lips into a smile. "Well not me darling, look at me, I'm simply plumped to the gills nowadays. No no, I wore this to my first awards show, before you were even born, you little thing."

Annie wanted to laugh. Marilla looked fine still - great, actually, but she would not argue when a designer dress was on the line. Marilla nudged her with the hanger, and she took it, holding it up admiringly.

"Get changed, and then we'll do something about your hair."

Annie did as she was told, stepping out of her blue jeans and pulling off her sweaty t-shirt. She reached for the dress when Marilla let out a startled cry.

"Darling, your leg!"

Annie looked down. "Oh ... right."

She had all but forgotten about the incident back at Redwick Creek. Mary's homemade medicine had soothed the wound more than any prescription could; she no longer lost any sleep over its sting.

"What happened? It looks positively ghastly."

"I uh, got attacked, by a crank. Back in a small town. I think it's healing nicely though." She turned her leg this way and that, looking at the scars that ran down it.

"A crank?" Marilla asked. "So you really are immune then."

"Of course I am," Annie said. "I already told you that, remember?"

Marilla clicked her tongue. "Can never be too careful these days, darling. I learned long ago in Hollywood that not everyone is who they say they are. No matter, put it on, I want to see."

Annie slipped into the dress and spun in a small circle. It felt like the height of luxury after days of wearing basic cotton t-shirts and hiking boots. Marilla nodded approvingly, and Annie looked at herself in the mirror while her host changed into her own dress.

Annie looked away for privacy's sake, but soon heard Marilla tug on the zipper and then let out a sigh.

"Darling, can you help me?"

Annie finished zipping her up the rest of the way. Marilla's dress was also black, but had more going on with an asymmetrical neckline and a white bow tied on one shoulder. Though she looked gorgeous in it, Annie preferred her own, and was glad everything turned out the way it had.

"Come." Marilla pointed at the vanity chair, and Annie obeyed, sitting down. Marilla picked up the boar bristle brush and ran it through Annie's hair. Both gazed in the illuminated mirror, and Marilla smiled at her nostalgically.

"You have such lovely features," she said. "Perfect cheekbones."

Annie felt her face go warm and saw her cheeks flush in the mirror. Marilla continued to comb through her hair until she had it styled in a pleasant fashion, simple but pretty. She pulled a delicate jeweled pin out of a tiny white drawer and pulled back one side of her hair, sticking it in place.

"There," she said, taking a step back. "You look ... well, you look like me in my prime darling. Heaven knows in this climate we cannot take care of ourselves like we used to. Pity. But we have to try, or else what's the point? At least I'll always have my films to remind me of what once was."

They continued to get ready; Marilla pulled the rollers out of her own hair and then applied make-up to Annie. After the mascara, blush, and lipstick were on, Marilla handed her a shoe box. Inside were black velvet pumps, and Annie slid them on while Marilla sat on the bed and strapped on towering white heels.

She stood up and walked gracefully back to the vanity. She put her arm around Annie and smiled.

"Heaven is missing two stars tonight darling."

Above deck, Clark was having a more difficult time getting Newt to wear the fine clothes he had picked out for him.

"I think this will do nicely," Clark said, unbuttoning a shirt and taking it off a wooden hanger. He held it out, ignoring the pile of shirts that Newt had already rejected. "It's Tom Ford."

Newt looked at it blankly. "Who?"

"Just put it on."

He half threw it at Newt, who turned around before taking off his own shirt, wary of Clark seeing his stitches and asking questions about what had happened to him. He pulled on the crisp white shirt and buttoned it up. When he turned back around, Clark was holding out a suit jacket.

Newt's eyes narrowed. "I need that too?"

Clark just stared at him, and Newt took that as his cue to not waste time arguing and just put it on.

Like the shirt, it fit perfectly.

"Where did all this come from?" Newt asked. "We're not the same size."

"Don't you know boy," Clark said, holding up expensive looking watches to his own wrist, "When you're as rich as I am you get everything sent to you for free. Some may say it's not fair, but I say once you can make a company sell out of bolo ties because you wore them to a business dinner once, then you can call me."

Clark laughed and then grabbed a small box from his dresser, holding it out. "Open it."

Newt took the box and opened it slowly. It contained two small round objects, but he didn't know what they were.

"Worn by Mr. McQueen," Clark said. "King of cool."

Another name that Newt didn't recognize. He watched as Clark pulled the tiny items out of the box, and then he grabbed Newt's arms, putting them through the buttonholes on the cuffs.

"There," he said, standing back and looking Newt over. "What do you think my boy?"

Newt turned around and looked in the mirror. He wanted to frown, but kept up appearances for both their sakes. He didn't look like himself. He felt like an impostor, a fraud. He desperately wanted to put on his shirt sitting on the bed and go have a simple dinner back in town with Annie. Annie. He wondered how she was doing with Marilla.

"It's uh ... it's good."

Clark slapped him jovially on the back and went around the room, looking for matching shoes.

They went back onto the main deck once they were dressed. Newt knew it was shallow, and he would never admit it to anyone, but as they stood there waiting for Annie and Marilla, the anticipation of a night he had never experienced before was making even him feel excited. He had never worn clothes so stylish and expensive in his life - that he could remember, at least. He assumed his parents, whoever they had been, hadn't been able to afford designer shirts and suit jackets and fancy leather shoes. He fidgeted with the cufflinks as Clark had called them and tried to ignore his heart speeding up in his chest. He heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and he stood a little straighter. Any second now.