Probably Doomed and Perplexingly Merry, the narrator finds themselves steering their small vessel along the misty Michigan coastline, accompanied by Sol, a young girl who is sleeping soundly in the forward bunk. As the narrator reflects on the weight and warmth of her small frame, there is a sense of unease, a deep responsibility weighing on them as they struggle to adjust to the new dynamic of caring for Sol. The journey is long, and though the sea offers a sense of calm, the narrator cannot shake the growing apprehension about what lies ahead. Anchored in Misery Bay, a peaceful but isolated cove, they take a moment to brew coffee in the galley while contemplating the canal that leads to Redfield and Griff—a man whose intentions remain unclear. An unease slowly settles in, as they wonder if delivering Sol into Griff’s hands is the right choice, knowing that this next step could alter the course of their lives.

As the day begins to unfold, their morning is interrupted by a disturbing sight—a bloated, lifeless body drifting toward them. It’s a stark reminder of the perils of the lake, and as the narrator instinctively tries to shield Sol from this grim reality, her reaction surprises them. Rather than showing fear or distress, Sol appears remarkably nonchalant, identifying the body as an “uncle” lost to the lake. The narrator, wanting to protect her from the harshness of life, is helpless as Sol, driven by some deeper sense of respect, insists that they must give the body a proper burial. With a mixture of resignation and determination, the two of them drag the body ashore, transforming the grim task into a shared moment of solemn respect, acknowledging the life lost without fear or hesitation.

With the task complete, the day continues, and they set sail toward Redfield, entering the canal they hope will shorten their journey. As they navigate the waters, the narrator reads from Folsum’s Anchorages, recounting the region’s beauty and charm, but Sol remains skeptical, dismissing the descriptions as naïve or exaggerated. A storm begins to brew on the horizon, raising the stakes of their journey as they work against the clock to find shelter. The canal entrance finally comes into view, and though it is far less impressive than the narrator had imagined, it still marks a crucial point in their journey—an opening to something new and unknown. As they anchor in the canal, the atmosphere shifts from tense anticipation to a moment of calm, and for the first time in what feels like an eternity, they can relax.

As the day draws to a close, a sense of relief washes over them, though it is quickly disrupted when Sol notices a kite floating in the sky. Her reaction is one of fear, as she sees the kite as a potential omen or a “watchful presence” that could bring danger. The narrator, trying to soothe her, reassures Sol, telling her that the kite is a symbol of hope—an affirmation of their efforts to bury the body and escape from Richard’s clutches. They enjoy a modest meal of vegetable soup in the cockpit, the warmth of the food and the stormy air outside creating a sense of peace amid the uncertainty. Despite the approaching storm and the challenges that lie ahead, the connection between the narrator and Sol grows stronger, as they share this brief respite together, ready to face whatever the future holds with resolve and determination. With a growing sense of purpose, they take comfort in their companionship, drawing strength from one another as they prepare to continue their journey through the unpredictable waters ahead.