Father's Day
“Again, Papa, throw the knife again! Hit him in the eye this time!” Robert paused. “As entertaining as it is to stab someone from a distance, always remember, Mattie: If you throw your knife you no longer have a knife you can use, and it could even be used against you. You must have a back-up weapon. What did I tell you is the first rule of knife-fights?” “To bring a pistol, Papa.” “That’s correct. If your opponent brings a knife, you bring pistols, with your own knife as back-up. Also,” he added in a pedantic fashion, “My victim is painted on wood. A real person would be moving, or yelling, or trying to harm you. If he’s just standing there one could simply cosh him over the head with a belaying pin. Of course, you would have to stand on a chair to do that.” Mattie put her hand up over her mouth and giggled at the image. She’d adjusted to life aboard ship in a fashion that made him proud and convinced him more than ever that she w...