Monday, September 19, 2011

The Bottles= The Seventh Blog of this short story. [ 7 ]

    

 Bill, Wesley and Junior looked at each other, then at Dennis and said at almost the same time, “ Aye aye Captain.” They all four-laughed together then.

     Bill looked at his cell phone and said, "Zack will be out here by nine-tomorrow morning.”

     “I'll fix us a seafood supper.” Dennis volunteered.

     “You all have got to see this,” Junior shouted back at them.

     “What is it Junior,” Wesley asked as he scrambled to the bow of the boat where Junior was standing, looking out toward the east.

     “It's got to be Snow Top.”  Jr. answered in a softer voice filled with wonder.

     “Snow Top,” Wesley whispered his agreement.

     “Got to be,’” Bill added.

     “We found it.  We are here.” Dennis said.

     Junior stepped off onto the key and its glowing white sand.  The suns rays were bouncing off of it, making the surface appear white as snow. The water was only one inch deep most places.  “Time to hunt and hunt fast,” he said.

     Wesley hit the water next with Bill close behind.  Dennis dropped the anchor and hit the barely covered white sand with a thin sounding splash.  Less than an hour passed and the extreme white glow vanished.  Soon the sun would be out of sight.  Junior had wandered in his searching the greatest distance from the Holly Lynne.  Wesley called him back to reality and the boat.  He stepped aboard the vessel as the first stars appeared in the tropical sky.  Dennis was about half done preparing for a seafood supper, as he called it.  Bill thought it was coming along surprisingly fast.  The makeshift table was covered with a plastic tablecloth.  Each bowl was covered with a lid.  Junior had just finished cleaning up when Dennis announced, “Supper is served.”

     The four men set down.  Dennis directed the activities by picking up the dish in front of him, taking off the lid and passing it to Bill.  It was salad with fresh tomatoes, avocado chunks, fine cut carrots and some other delicate items.  A pepper grinder and the sea saltshaker set on the table near a bowl of croutons.

     “What dressing are we having tonight,” Junior asked?

     “Why thousand island of course,” Bill answered as soberly as possible.

      “All right now,” Bill started in as he took the lid off of the bowl in front of him and it had fresh looking tropical fruit cut up in it.  “You didn't do all of this out here just now.”

     “Didn't say I did,” Dennis smugly said.  “This is the left overs from a small private reception Amy and I went to in Key West.”

     “How did you get them,” they all ask?

     “The caterers help had a little car wreck on the way back over when it was cleanup time.  I volunteered to help hall that stuff back to his place.  When we got there with it he said, just throw it all in the dumpster out back.  I talked him into letting me have it.  Told him I was taking some friends out for a few days in the Straits for fishing.  I’ve just got to take back these plastic bowls and lids when we get back to Big Pine.”

     “I don't care where you got it,” Junior exclaimed as he took the lid off of a bowl and steaming lobster tails came into view and smelling range. 

     “Hot butter,” Wesley asked?

     “Why certainly,” Dennis smiled as he pushed a small bowl of hot liquified butter to him.

     “Why, this is better than being on a cruise ship,” Wesley laughed.  “Course I’ve never been on one but I’ve heard tell of how they are, from old Bruce.”

     The meal lasted an hour.  They talked, bragged on the food, made plans for the next days treasure hunting on Snow Top and theorized.

     Bill wondered, “Why did the writings say it was a perfect triangle and that Snow Top was exactly in the middle of it?”

     Junior smiled, “Maybe he just wrote it down to where he would remember it right but someone else would not locate it because they would be trying to be too precise, exact and purely perfect in their search.  For him that would be as perfect a map or writing as he could put down on paper.  In his eyes it is a perfect triangle for his purposes and the key is exactly in the middle of it, exactly where he needed it to be.  His own theory of relativity.”

     Dennis commented, “Slightly abstract while looking, appearing as realism.”

     “Yes.” Junior said.

     “Then where do we abstractly look for the bottles in all realism,” Wesley asked?

     “It just says he dropped the bottles off at Snow Top,” Bill stated.  “Here it says, after dropping them off Snow Top he would row back to the ship.”

     Wesley thought aloud, “You realize that all of it was probably written in Spanish, unless he had learned English and I doubt that.”

     “That’s right,” Bill exclaimed!  “So the translator may have not used the exact correct words.”

     “That would make sense,” Dennis agreed.

     Junior spoke again, “Well perfect and exact it ain’t but I believe its Snow Top mainly because of how it appears so white.”

     “Listen,” Wesley said urgently.  “You hear that?  Sounded like a boom way off.”

     “A boom,” Bill questioned?

     “Yeah, ya know kinda like an explosion far away,” Wesley explained.

     They listened quietly for five or six minutes.  That was when it soaked in just how far out and away from the mainland they really were.  There was no sound of a frog, cicada, or cricket.  Nothing made a sound except the water gently slapping the side of the Holly Lynne.  The night sky was truly black and the stars were bright.  No glow from lights on land could be seen.  They went to bed soon after that and slept reasonably well.

     When they all four awoke at about the same time they were all ready to get up and hunt.  Wesley and Junior were always amazed at how warm the air and the water was at any time of day. They saw what Junior had bought the tarp, rope and piles at the hardware store for. He had it all rigged up so he could pull it up over his hammock if a rainstorm came in the night. He and Wesley hit the water first carrying their masks, knives, snorkels and fins in bags.  They had boots on to protect their feet and put the fins on over.  Bill came next with his waterproof metal detector.  Dennis was last to leave the Holly Lynne.  He said, “Doesn’t seem right to not have breakfast.”

     “Go with the flow man,” Bill responded.  “We’ll hunt till we get hungry.  We can tell when the water is deep enough to get her off the sand.  If she floats up and frees herself, she’s anchored good.  She’s not going anywhere.”

     They hunted until nine, then Bill got a little concerned about Zack.  At ten he started back toward the Holly Lynne.  Dennis followed close behind while Wesley and Junior came along way behind searching the sand for any sign of bottles. 

     Bill was on his cell phone talking to Zack as Wesley and Junior climbed aboard.  Dennis flipped the last egg over in the large skillet and smiled. 

     Bill said, “All I can make out is something about the cell phone towers being out of commission.”  He paused then said, “It went dead again.”  He studied a bit.  “Zack said something about clouds, an explosion and Miami.  I don’t see any clouds out here that look threatening and what would Miami have to do with us?”  Then he said, “She was"….and it went dead again.  It’s done that three times.  Now I can’t get a signal at all.  Any of you get a signal?”

     All looked at their phones.  None had any sign of a signal.

     “No, cone reports if I can’t get a signal,” Junior said.

     They ate breakfast and pondered the situation.  Exactly when the Holly Lynne freed herself they had no idea.  Wesley just happened to look off the side of the boat where shallow water had been and it was deep.  “Hey guys,” he calmly said.  “I think we are afloat again.”

     Dennis laughed, “I did put a lot of slack out on that anchor rope.”

     They were about seventy feet from where they had been grounded.  They planned their next point of disimbarkment onto Snow Top.

     The sound of a powerful boat came faintly to their ears.

     They all looked for it at the same time. Bill saw it first. “There it is, off our starboard near the bow. That’s a big sounding boat.”

      Dennis had a guarded sound in his voice as he said, “Looks like they intend to come over and talk to us. They’re headed straight and fast for us.”

     Junior stood and looked around as he spoke, “I wander if they know Titus. Where is he now that we might need him to introduce us to that new boats crew.”

     Wesley dropped a couple fenders over the starboard side and by then the new boat was pulling slowly up to them.

     “Ahoy, there my friends. We are lost and need some directions. Perhaps a little fuel? May I come aboard and have you show me your charts and the direction we need to go from here to get back to Miami?”

     “Well,” Dennis started to answer but before he could get it out the man speaking hurriedly steeped across to the deck of The Holly Lynne. He started a new sentence. “I can show you exactly where you are now on my map according to longitude and latitude. I’ll give you the heading that will take you back to Miami, but I don’t know if we have enough fuel to spar. How much do you think you will need?”

     “All you have.” The man pulled a large pistol out of a big front pocket in his pants. We want no trouble. Just your fuel. We have a long voyage ahead of us for we go the opposite direction of Miami.” All the men on his boat now had guns drown and pointed at the crew of The Holly Lynne.

     No one had noticed When Dennis picked up his old ten-gauge shotgun. It was now pointing at the man’s chest.

     Wesley froze as he said, “This don’t look good Junior.”

     Junior shook his head slowly, “What would Debbie and the girls think? What would Burt think? I really don’t know what I think about it.”

     “I think they are smugglers.” Bill blurted his opinion out with just a touch of an air of the lawman that still haunted him inside.

     Dennis shook his head in disbelief, “I just get you fixed up and out on the deep water again after five years and look what happens my lady.”

     “We just want your fuel. Don’t do any thing stupid and all will be well,” the man impatiently shouted.

     Larry and his boys suddenly came skimming across the water in their fishing boat like it was a speed enhanced racing rig.  They saw the drug runner’s guns just in time.  Veering off to the north side of the Large Key their boat vanished quickly.

     “Stupid fishermen!”  The obvious boss said.  “Now we are in need of fuel.  You have fuel that we need.  We have the most guns.  We control your lives.  We give all of you your lives if you give us your fuel.  It is a very simple exchange senior.  It is a very old story out here on these waters that has been repeated many times and told about in songs, stories and legends.  Now we are helping you become part of the great history.”

     The two-way radio crackled and a voice asked,  “What is your location Holly Lynne?  What is the nature of your may day?” It was Larry’s voice but only Bill recognized it.

     “Don’t even think about answering that.”

     “You know we would drift out to sea along with the Gulf Stream if we have no fuel,” Dennis argued.

     “You can remain anchored here until some stupid fishermen come by.  Perhaps those that went by just now will come by again.  We will have to disable your radio senior.  You understand.”

     “Just do it Dennis,” Bill said.  “We can wait it out here.”  He knew Dennis had not realized the fishermen had been Larry and his boys.

     “And how do you two men vote,” their boss asks?

     “Wesley, I’d say it would give us good excuses to stay out here and fish a lot longer.  What do you say?” Junior voted.

     “I’d agree.  Mighty good fishing out here.  We came out here to fish. We won’t have to pay for the extra days will we Captain Dennis,” Wesley asked?

     Dennis glared at Wesley with a look of disbelief and wonder, then, he seemed to understand.  “Alright.  All right.  We’ll give it up to you.  Just don’t destroy my two way radio.”  Dennis put his old double barrel ten-gauge shotgun down and stepped back from it.

     “You’re all just a bunch of stupid fishermen!  You’re lucky we don’t kill you all right now.  Why I don’t kill you I don’t know.  Just sit all together over there on the deck.”

     Dennis, Bill, Wesley and Junior all went over to the place he pointed to and sat down.  The drug running crew quickly tied them up securely.  The fuel started being transferred from the Holly Lynne to their boat immediately.  Bill caught sight of someone on the tip of the big key that Larry and his boys had hidden behind. 

     “Time to let Larry know for sure we don’t like this company.”

     “What are you going to do,” Dennis asked?

    “Larry.” Wesley said.

     “Sharp shooters,” Junior added.

     “Oh no.  Not that.  Are they that good,” Dennis asked as he tilted his head back and looked up into the sky?

     Bill looked at Wesley and Junior and admitted. “Don’t know.”

     “Oh you know there is no talking while we work senior.  This is what will happen to you the next time you talk before we are out of sight of this boat and you.”  The drug boss turned and shot the two way radio dead.  The radio and men instantly became quite.  He looked around and saw bill’s medal detector.  “I’ve been wanting one of those detectors for a while.  He picked it up and pitched it to one of his men and it was loaded onto their boat.

     Only about five seconds passed, then a gun went off and the boss’s gun flew out of his hand and into the water.  His crew quickly grabbed up their guns but as fast as they raised them up, “Zing,” a bullet took them out of their hands and into the salty water.

     “Get down!” the drug boss shouted.  “Do any of you see who it is?  They are good and must be a lot of them.”

     All of his men spoke Spanish but the negative shaking of their heads told their answer.

     One of them grabbed up an automatic rifle and sent a barrage of lead out across the water in the direction of the Big Key.  Immediately shots were fired in answer.  One hit the rifle, sending it onto the deck of their boat.  The other two hit the man who had been shooting it.  He went down with two holes in his right arm.  One of the others grabbed up the gun and tried to fire back in the direction the shouts were coming from.  The automatic rifle had been hit where it was damaged beyond quick repair.  Another shout sang out from the key and he went down with a red spot appearing on his arm.

     “Stay down,” their boss shouted at them.  “Must be another smuggler.  We have our fuel.  Get us out of here,” he yelled at his crew and they answered in English.  “Out of here!”

     Dennis, Bill, Wesley, and Junior struggled to get loose but could not gain any slack in their bindings at all.  The drug runners cast off the lines that had been holding the two boats together and sped away.  Just as they came even with the tip of the key where Bill had seen Larry, that stupid fisherman’s boat shout out from its cover and gave chase.  One of the runners picked up the rifle and got off a round but it obviously jammed once more.  One of Larry’s boys picked it out of his hands with a quick shot but the bullet seemed to ric-a-sha into his leg for he went down hard grabbing at it in obvious pain.

     “What’s he going to do if they catch up to them,” Dennis wondered loudly.

     “Let them go Larry,” Bill yelled, but he might as well have been yelling at a TV show.

     “They’ll never believe this back home Wesley,” Junior commented in wonder as he watched the chase out across the water.

     “You’re not going to write about this are you,” Wesley quickly asked?

     “Not like it has a bit of truth to it I’m not.  I’m sure-nuff going to put ‘err down on paper as fiction though.  Definitely!”

     Larry was beside their boat now.  The Holly Lynne crew could see him give the signal to slam into the side of the enemy’s boat.  He had a gaff hook in his hands and as they came close enough to the other boat Larry slammed the hook onto it railings.  A man came up from below with another automatic rifle and started to take aim at Larry.  One of his boys put the man and gun down on the deck immediately.  No one could see where he had been hit.  Larry gaff hooked Bill’s metal detector and quickly hauled it into their boat.  But before anyone could warn Larry, a gaff hook was slammed into the back of one of his hands.  He instantly let go of the boat and slapped the other man across the left cheek with his gaff hook.  The two boats parted company then.  The drug runners headed on out to sea in an easterly direction.  Larry and boys turned wide to their left and came straight back to the stranded Holly Lynne.

     “What’s the situation?” Larry asked as he jumped on board while his boys held the boats together and secured some ropes between them.

     “No fuel in the tanks and no two-way radio,” Dennis assured.  Why they even cut the fuel lines.  Good thing they didn’t see my extra fuel cans I hid under the deck.  I can have a backup line put on in no time but even with the fuel there’s not enough to get back to Big Pine Key.”

     “Are all of you ok?” Larry questioned as he started untying them.

     “Yes, but you’re not Larry.  Your hand’s bleeding profusely.”

     “Au it’s just a scratch.  I’ll wrap it up with some gauze and tape.”

     “Boys, you get Larry to the Hospital on Marathon as fast as you can.  We’re all fine.  Just a little mad.  Call Zack and Marcy and tell what happened.  Zack can bring out enough fuel in the Two Nickels to get us back in.”

     “Now Bill, I’m just fine.  I want to know where all the doubloons are.”

     “There ain’t no doubloons Larry.  We’re looking for bottles.  Well, bottles with sand and gold shavings in them,” Bill corrected him.  “Now boys, just look at how much blood he has lost already.  You get him on in there now!”

     “He’s right Dad,” they both said.  “We’ll wrap it up as we go in.  See you when we all get back to Big Pine.”

     Larry reluctantly got back aboard his boat and they were soon out of sight of the crew of the Holly Lynne.

     “Now don’t that beat all,” Wesley asked?

     “Beats it all by a mile I’d say,” Junior added.

     “A gaff hook through the hand and he still wanted to stay out here and look for treasure,” Bill shook his head in disbelief.

     “Wesley we’ve got some fixing to do,” Dennis announced.  “Larry sure is a tough one.”

     They all went to work getting the Holly Lynne in as good a shape as possible with what they had to do with.


CONTINUED TO BLOG EIGHT  (8)  BOTTLES
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