“Okay. I just need to give you the form that says you declined the insurance. You wreck the machine, it’s on you to pay for it.”
“Maybe we should take it,” Steph says without turning away from the window.
With our luck, we probably should. “How much is it?”
“For two machines, it would be about two hundred dollars.”
“That’s almost the same cost as it is to ride them!” Steph gasps.
“I think we’ll be okay.”
I sign the guy’s form declining the insurance, then pass Steph her lifejacket. We head out the door together and round the corner to the docks. They’re expensive and well made, kept up such that they’re not splintery, spidery, or slippery.
“You ready?” I point to the orange and black. “They’re the same, but I think that one suits you.”
“Why?” Steph asks suspiciously. “Because that one doesn’t work or it’s a death machine or what?”
“No tricks. And come on. I wouldn’t give you the bad one if there even was a bad one, which there isn’t. They’re brand new, and you can tell they’re well maintained. Look at how clean they are. They have to keep them up if they’re going to rent them. They don’t want to have to go pick stranded people up on the lake because the jet ski failed. They’d probably have to refund their money or deal with a pissed off customer.”
“If this thing stranded me or tipped or something, I’d be pissed off too.”
I hand over the key. It’s on a stretchy red band that wraps around the wrist, so if someone falls off, the key just pulls out with them to stop the machine. After I explain all that and tell Steph how to start the machine and how to get it going, which is as simple as pressing the start button and just squeezing the throttle harder or not so hard to go fast or slow, I hold the edge of the jet ski so she can climb on.
“Should I take these off?” She sweeps a hand down her clothes. “Are we going to get wet?”
“We’ll get wet, but it’s up to you. I’m leaving mine on.”
“Okay. I’ll leave mine on too. It’s alright if they get wet. But how wet? We’re not going to dump over, are we? It looks tippy.”
“It’s not that bad. It feels strange at first, but you’ll get the hang of it within a few minutes.”
“I seriously hope so.”
“There’s nothing I’ve ever seen you not be able to handle.”
Steph gives me a strange look. Neither of us brought our phones, and I only brought my wallet to pay. It’s secured in the back pocket of my shorts. She doesn’t have anything to tuck in the jet ski’s front compartment, so she gives it one last dubious look and steps on. The jet ski immediately rocks a little, and she lets out a little cry. She doesn’t leap off, though. She just sits down hard enough to make it rock again.
“Argh! I already hate it!”
“Just give it a chance.” I hand over the key. “Put that on your wrist. If anything happens, the key comes right out, and the jet ski stops.”
“You mean if I fall off.”
“Yes, but I don’t see why you would. I’ve done some pretty crazy circles on these and gone pretty fast, and I haven’t gone flying yet.”
“Yeah, well, there’s a first time
for everything. You should have gotten the insurance even though it was expensive. I can’t imagine how much these things cost to replace.”
“We can’t really do any damage unless we hit a rock, and they said there aren’t any around here. Relax. And we’d only have to pay for the damage, not replace it.”
“What if it sunk to the bottom of the lake?”
“That would be very unlikely, if not impossible.”
Steph presses her lips together hard, but she slips the key strap around her wrist and puts it into the machine. I untether her slowly, and she starts to float away. She doesn’t panic, and she just does what I told her to. She hits the start button, and the jet ski starts idling.
“Just let it idle out into the open part past the docks before you give it any gas. Just steer.”