“Yacht” sounded too fancy, so they just called it the boat. But whatever it was, it was a family summer staple. In the late spring, Uncle Cory would divide up various cleaning tasks to get the boat in shape for the season. Jordy and Gordy, Cory’s twin teenage nephews, always made the tasks into a contest–whoever finished his task first would get to drive the boat out first.
Uncle Cory was very particular about the state of it, however. It had to be “ship shape” as he was always so fond of saying. It needed a good bleaching, needed to be polished and wiped down at every tiny corner. It always seemed an excessive task, since Cory made sure to clean it himself before getting his nephews to do it all over again, but Jordy and Gordy were made for competition, and the boat-cleaning contest was as good as any.
Until they started noticing the places Cory missed. Sometimes the cleaning he did before setting the twins to it seemed like it was done in a mad rush. There would be an earring lodged somewhere (from their late Aunt Cassidy? Cory never remarried since the accident years ago), or scarred streaks on the deck, or little red blotches on the curtains.
But they always got too caught up in the contest to stop and wonder about the unusual things they saw. It wasn’t until the police put Uncle Cory away that the pieces started to fit together. He left the yacht to his nephews, but neither of them accepted it.
Day 147’s random prompt categories were, “Competition,” “Blood on the curtains,” and, “The boat.”
The moral of the story is: Never get teenagers to clean up your bloody messes.