Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 60950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
“What a fucking waste,” King said, echoing my thoughts. He pointed up to one such house. A three story stilt home sitting almost right under The Causeway. It was completely dark, storm shutters on every window and door. It had a huge backyard with a neglected fire pit, bricks crumbling from the pile.
“Fucking shame,” I agreed. “When we get one of those big ‘ol fuckers for ourselves I’m never leaving the place. Like a king in his castle.”
King shot me a look. “We already got a King.”
I knew he was goading me because he had this thing he did when he was trying to be serious but about to crack where the corner of his lip would ever so slightly twitch like he was physically fighting his reaction. “Like a Preppy in his castle then,” I amended.
King smiled.
“I’m glad you let that smile out, Boss-Man. I was afraid for a second that you were going to spontaneously combust. That or you had a serious case of constipation,” I said.
Bear snorted. “Well, make sure that when y’all get one of them places that you make room for me,” Bear said, sounding defeated.
“Uh, Bear. You’re in a biker gang,” I pointed out. I quit rowing just long enough to pass him the dented Pepsi can I’d made into a temporary bong after dropping my rolling papers into the fucking Caloosahatchee. “I hate to sound all mean-girls on you, but...you can’t live with us.”
“It’s a motorcycle club,” Bear corrected, looking off into the distance. “And I ain’t moving in. Just make sure you have space for me if I need to crash.”
King and I glanced at each other and understanding passed between us that Bear meant he needed a place to crash for when his ‘ol man, Chop, pushed him to the edge, which he was doing more and more of ever since Bear turned official Prospect for the MC.
“Sure thing, man,” King said, casually.
The three of us continued to survey the darkened waste of real estate until we came upon one that was different than the others.
It was lit up and being that it was closer to the water than the others, we could see directly inside to where a family was eating dinner together at the dining room table. A mom, dad, and little boy. They were smiling and laughing together. “Didn’t know families actually did that,” I said, not realizing how sad it sounded at the time.
“You don’t want that,” Bear argued. “Shit looks boring as fuck.”
King agreed with a slight nod of his head.
“I didn’t say I wanted that,” I quipped, shrugging my shoulders. “I just didn’t know people actually did that. Thought it was made up or something you only see on TV.”
“It is,” Bear said. “What you just saw there was a lie. The dad is probably fucking his assistant, who’s a dude, mom’s knocked up by the principle of junior’s school and has a thousand dollar a day drug habit, plus junior is so high on ADD meds he doesn’t know his dick from a wet noodle.”
“I feel like you’ve given this way more thought than it deserved,” I observed as the family eating dinner grew further and further away. “Wait?” I faked a gasp. “Are YOU the one fucking the dad?”
Bear punched me in the shoulder and smiled. “Boring as fuck,” he said again, like it was a fact he wanted me to remember. He slid his cigarette to the side of his mouth so he could use both arms to row against the growing current.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Boring as fuck.”
As we approached the island everything was cast in shadows, making the long roots of the mangroves look like hundreds of skinny legs dipping into the water. The trees themselves appeared to be large spider-like creatures standing guard around the island.
I held the flashlight, trying to find the clearing we’d hacked out months before. The light caught the yellow glowing eyes of a dozen or so gators lingering at the surface of the water. Some darted under the second they found themselves in the way of the beam, other braver ones slinked toward our boat without creating any sort of wake to better inspect the intruders.
Us.
“It’s like a gator orgy out here,” I said.
“Yeah, so let's get over there quickly without tipping the goddamned boat before it becomes a gator buffet,” King said.
Once we found the clearing we paddled toward it with all of our strength to keep the tide from pushing us back. The second the boat made contact with land King jumped out first pulling the boat further onto the shore, scraping the metal bottom of the boat over the rock and shell.
Bear and I followed, each of us carrying backpacks with our stash. It only took us an hour or so to locate our hole, dig it up again, bury our stash and cover it back up.