Wednesday, September 14, 2011

The Bottles= this is the Fifth Blog of this short story. [ 5 ]

     The planning committee broke up after about two hours.  Bill called a place he could rent an extra large copier from. That night Bill took his old map of the Florida Straits down and out of the frame.  Just as he was making the last blow up copy of it Larry knocked on the door and Marcy let him in.
      
     “Hey Larry,” Bill said as he saw Larry's smiling face.
      
    “That old map is a good one Bill,” Larry commented.  “Fair details, but to really see the details around here you need a much bigger scale one.  You know like this one is 50 miles to the inch.  That collection of mine is 10 miles to the inch and has all the Keys, or Cays it calls them, plus each small island.  It details all the brights, sounds and bays minutely.  It's so old most of the names are in Spanish.”
      
     Bill looked at Larry in a stunned way and asked, “Where did you get a collection like that?  I paid a lot for this one.”
      
     “My grandfather had it and it was handed down to me, but no one knows that but me.”
    
     “And now us,” Bill laughed.
   
     “No.  You don't know it.  I may have been telling you a big yarn,” Larry laughed back.
   
     “I'd love to see it,” Bill confessed.
    
     “Why sure,” Larry agreed.  “If you want me to I'll go get it and we'll make copies for you, Wesley and Junior.”
    
     “Amen to that,” Wesley encouraged.
    
     “I'll be right back.”  Larry disappeared out the door and his footsteps were heard flip-flopping down the stairs.
    
     “Are we going to tell him what we're after? We are, aren’t we partners,” Bill said in a half question, half statement.
    
     “If his maps help at all, we owe it to him.  He is a generous man and we should be too,” Junior gave his opinion.
    
     “Aw, it ain't the money value of the treasure so much as the thrill of the hunt.  How we going to cash in gold shavings anyway, even if we do actually find any?”   
    
     “We'll just have to split the bottles up amongst ourselves and keep them as mementos,” Wesley stated.
    
     Marcy was quietly sitting at the bar writing things down with a smile.
    
     Soon the sound of Larry’s flip-flopping foot steeps came up the stairs and his smiling face was at the door. Larry's maps were truly old and it was decided that seven copies were to be made of each, while Bill had the extra big copier rented.  Larry laughed when he was told about the two treasure stories. “I'll sure take a bottle of sandy gold if you find it.  Here's my cell phone number.  If you need me and my boys to come out and help you haul it in just call.  Oh, by the way Bill, I can make a rum run too if you need it.”  Larry laughed all the way out the door.
    
     Bill grinned, “He’s got an ear perked up about all this. Wouldn’t of given me his new cell phone number now if he weren’t interested a little.  He’s been forgetting it for a month now.  He’s kept his old cell phone I already had the number for.  Different companies for different services and business I guess.”
    
     Zack worked all next day at the lumberyard.  Dennis was nowhere to be found.  Larry was gone up to Marathon. “Back latter,” was all a message said on his answering machine.  Bill, Wesley and Junior went over and over the stories and maps.  Marcy looked at it all occasionally.  At about two p.m. she said, “Okay, it's time for pizza at No Name.  You’ve looked at it enough for now boys.”
    
     “We should be able to see it if it's there,” Bill moaned.
    
     “A triangle,” Wesley said.
    
     “In the Gulf out back or the Atlantic or Straights out front?”  Jr. wondered out loud.
    
     Marcy leaned over the map and said, “Out front, out there looks the most likely to me,” she said.
    
     “You know, it looks like it could be,” Jr. agreed.
    
     “Na, not a perfect triangle,” Bill insisted.
    
     “Doesn't say an equal triangle does it?  Just a perfect triangle and Snow Top in the middle with the largest island to its north- north west,” Wesley observed.
    
     “Mystery close enough to solved.  Now it's time to go eat pizza!”  Marcie insisted.              They went!
     The pizza was the best.  Just like Marcy had said it would be.  They talked about many things but not a word was spoken about the maps or stories.
    
     There was nothing normal about the place they were eating in.  Dollar bills signed by the ones stapling them to the walls, ceilings, and posts were everywhere.  It was lit well enough, but still not too bright.  The bar was the only place they found to sit.  It had been a hard place to visit and talk at, but when the pizza had arrived they had not tried to talk, only ate and enjoyed. 
    
     As they came out into the daylight, the four thirty p.m. sun was bright.  Walking around they saw a few boats tied up over near the bridge that went to No Name Key.  A few thin small white clouds hung high over the bay water and Keys.  The air was fresh smelling with only a gentle breeze moving through the mangroves, palms, and over the bay.  A bald eagle sailed out over No Name Key.
    
     The tranquil silence was gradually interrupted by a plane.  It was an old bi-plane going toward Key West.
    
     “That would be fun to fly in over the Keys,” Jr. said.
    
     “Yes, but I would rather it have pontoons on it instead of wheels,” Wesley stated.
     
     “Have you ever seen a bi-plane with pontoons Bill? Not in moves but in real life,” Jr. asked?
     
     “I’ll have to think on that one,” Bill answered.
    
     “Jr.  Did I hear you say you wanted to go to the hardware store on the way back to the house,” Marcy asked?
    
     “I sure did,” Jr. answered.
    
     “We better hurry then,” Marcy stated as she started toward her Honda.  They all followed her closely, got in and were off to the hardware stone on Big Pine Key.  Jr. bought a canvas tarp and some rope, brass clips and pulleys.  No one ask why and he didn’t say except to volunteer the fact that he liked to see what hardware stores had in them in all the different parts of the country.
    
     Larry called Bill on his cell phone as Marcy pulled up to their electric yard gate.  It was half way open by the time Bill said, “Hello.  Why sure.  Bring it on over.  I’m sure Wes and Jr. would like to see it.  The boys just get back from Alabama?  Bring them over too.  Well, I guess they would be a little tired.  Just pulling into the yard.  Been out eating pizza.  Why you know that’s the best place around here for it.  Brought enough home for you to fill up on and you’re welcome to it.  Bet there will be lots to spare after you’re done.  Why sure.  Got everything copied and the machine taken back.  Pretty interesting.  Better come on over and look.  Sure.  See ya soon.” Bill flipped the phone shut.  “That was Larry.  He just bought a new rifle. A .17 lever action.  He already had a .17 bolt action.  Guess he’ll buy an automatic .17 next.  Him and his boys like to target shoot long range with them.  They’ve got an impressive collection of guns.  Can’t take the Alabama out of that family.  You can depend on them because of it.  He just wanted to be sure we were home and had time to visit.”
    
     Five minutes passed before Larry knocked on the door.
    
     “That’s Larry,” Bill said with a grin as he got up from the table where they were all looking at the maps again.
    
     “He always knocks like that,” Marcy stated.
    
     “Come on in here partner,” Bill welcomed Larry in as he opened the door.  Bill closed the door, turned around and Larry unwrapped the gun and handed it to him.  “Oh that’s nice, Larry.  Nice!  Looks brand new.  You’d never think it was used,” Bill admired the gun out loud.
    
     “Got a deal on it too and a lot of ammo came along with it,” Larry revealed as he looked at the maps on the table.  “Man, those copies turned out good.  Have you figured out where to start your search?  You know you might need some fire power if you’re going out on the high seas looking for pirate gold stolen from the Spanish crown who stole it from the natives who got it no telling how.  Now there’s just no telling how many curses are still hovering in the air over it.”
    
     “Don’t talk like that,” Bill insisted.
    
     “Just as long as they have no authority and or power we should be alright on that front,” Jr. reasoned out.
    
     “Here we are talkin’ ‘bout curses and we’re still on dry land lookin’ for clues as to where to look,” Wesley laughed.
    
     “Ain’t it the truth,” Jr. laughed with Wesley and Larry?  Bill just shook his head and looked admiringly at the gun.  The phone rang.  Marcy answered it.  Dennis told her about the big sale he had made on Key West and that three more well financed people had spoken like they were genuinely interested in buying some of his artwork.  “Things are looking better all the time,” he ended.
    
     Marcy invited him over to look at the maps.  He said he would be right over.
    
     Zack called four minutes later and soon all the small band of treasure hunters were at Marcy’s table staring at the maps as if they might see a picture of the exact island where it lay.  Zack was the one who drew out the course to be taken when they set sail on the quest.  Dennis said he knew the waters well.  Larry, Bill, and
     Marcy had been out that far a time or two.  It was a serious thing to venture out into international waters, but it had to be done if their search was an honest good one.
    
     They all knew Junior and Wesley were running out of time. One more week and they would have to head back up to Arkansas.
    
     Arkansas! That looked like a much farther trip back home, on the map, than it had looked on the way down, Junior and Wesley thought.
     
     All were given their assignments. That night they each had grand images about how it would go when they sat out on the top-secret treasure hunt. No, they would never have admitted it and especially not shared them, or the dreams they had in restless sleep, but they all had them.

     As high then night clouds swept lightly across the face of the near full moon that green gecko ate on one of Bills papayas that hung high on the plant out in the front yard. The gray iguana ate on one that had just fallen to the ground at ten thirty P. M. The brown corn snake was three houses down watching a rat scamper around. A crab crawled up and out of the canal and ate some breadcrumbs someone had dropped near the “Tight Schedule”.



     A brown lizard caught a fat tasty fly as the pipefish splashed in the canal near the bow of the “Two Nickels”.  A yellow tail snapper was eaten by a Jew Fish out in the bay.

     An old man sat in a wooden chair on his porch far out in the Straights of Florida on a Key he and his wife had lived on for many years. He smiled at the memories he was enjoying, of the Keys, of the Caribbean and of up far away from the salty water that seemed to lovingly play with his boat which was tied up to their dock. The sea breeze was kind to him. Soon he would be asleep too. The moon silently moved over the Keys and Cuba as that evening and morning became history just like all the ones that had come and gone before.


CONTINUED TO BLOG SIX-(6)  BOTTLES

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