Spanish Mackerel

I caught five Spanish mackerel this morning at the pier.  This was the big fella.  He's gonna make a great sandwich.  I mean, he's not gonna make a sandwich.  He's gonna be on a sandwich.  Whatever.

Nice Spanish Mackerel caught 03-26-11 from Navarre Beach Pier.

Mountain Surprise

They said it couldn’t be done. And so far they’d been right. Search parties were sent out for the first two teams attempting to do it. No luck--for the teams or the search parties.

That really didn’t bother me much. I loved the challenge. What bothered me was being away from my family for so long. It was gonna take weeks to ascend that rocky face. The only company I’d have would be Harry. Harry was my best friend. I was there for him when Linda died. And now, he’d be there for me when I needed him most.

After all the interviews and cameras and doctors touching here and probing there, we set out for the top of Mount Winkbackatcha. The first ten thousand feet were easy. The second, not so much. Around twenty-five is when I lost Harry.

I only heard him leave the world. Kinda glad now. I’d hate having a visual memory like that. The terrifying scream trailing down and away was bad enough.

Rest in peace, Harry, my friend.

I was by myself. Me and the snow-covered rocks. The air so thin, I thought I would give up with each step. But I kept going. For Harry. For my family. For me.

When I pulled myself over the last ledge, nothing happened. No band playing. No photos. No interviews. Just me and the thin air on top of Mount Winkbackatcha. In my head, I had imagined a larger feeling, having just completed what no other man on Earth could do. Nothing.

I began to look around, through the clouded air for a place to camp. I nestled in on top of that glorious peak just before nightfall on the nineteenth day. I was so tired, I can’t remember setting up camp. But, I will never forget what happened next.

Middle of the night on top of a mountain is very quiet except for the wind. So when I heard the ticking, I immediately jumped to my feet. The dark was a thick as black fabric. I couldn’t see anything, but I could hear it. I’d jerk my head looking for where it was coming from and then it would be behind me. I could hear it. Clipping, ticking sounds. I wanted Harry. But not so much that I wanted his ghost up there on that mountain scaring me silly.

“Who’s there?”

Silence answered me. I figured my imagination and lack of oxygen was getting to me. Then I heard it again.

Clip.

Clip, clip.

Tick.

What in the...

That’s when I saw it. Where the noise was coming from. I could not believe how my eyes deceived me. Is that...? No, It couldn’t be. I’m going crazy.

“You are not crazy, my son,” said the most beautiful voice I’d ever heard.

“Are you...,” I said, hoping I was crazy.

“Yes. I am the Way and the Light. I am Love and Life. I am...”

“God,” I said.

I couldn’t believe I was talking to God. Then I saw Him bend His head down. I jerked mine down as well assuming that is what you do when God is bowing His head.

Then the ticking started again. No praying, just clip, clip, tick, clip.

I opened one eye to see what He was doing.

Oh my, is He doing what I think He’s doing? Is He.... He IS!!!

God was clipping His toenails in my presence.

Booth or Table?

     “Would you like a booth? Or a table?” asked the young woman.

     “Don’t matter.”

     She led us to a table near the corner, a red candle in the center. Other patrons ate and talked quietly nearby. Place was packed.

     “Your server will be right with you.”

     “Thanks.”

     We sat. Ellen reached for the menu. I reached for the beer list. I felt her looking.

     “Don’t say a word. It’s my birthday and I’m having a beer.”

     “I didn’t say anyth…,” she said.

     “You didn’t have to.”

     “Please don’t be that way. I wanna have a good night.”

     “Me too.”

     “Then don’t drink.”

     The back of my neck got hot. I hated when she said crap like that. I know I haven’t been a saint in the past, but c’mon. I only drank on special occasions now. And when she didn’t know.

     “Hello. Welcome to Florence’s. My name is Candy and I’ll be your server this evening. Can I get you something to drink, maybe an appetizer?”

     “Yes. I’ll have a Guinness.”

     “OK. And for you, mam?”

     “Just water, please.”

     “Alright. Can I interest you in some cheese sticks or Florence dip?”

     “No thanks,” I said.

     “OK. Be right back with your drinks.”

     Candy walked away, shaking her rear back and forth like a high school girl can. A young couple was being seated in a booth along the wall. Guy was the tall, dark, and handsome type, probably made of money. Girl was kinda cute for a goth chick. Skin pale, black everything else. We made eye contact. She smiled. I smirked.

     “You gonna do that all night?” Ellen asked.

     “Do what?”

     “You know what,” she said.

     “Just decide what you’re gonna eat and leave me alone. I ain’t hurting nobody.”

     “You’re hurting me, Jerry.”

     I let it go and looked around the room. Ellen gently put her menu on the table and crossed her arms, not really looking at anything. I could tell we were heading down the same one-way like always. Don’t do this. Don’t do that. Why don’t you love me…blah…blah…blah. I hated it.

     “Here you go.” Candy placed our drinks on the table. “Are you guys ready to order?”

     “I’ll have a Caesar salad,” Ellen said.

     “Is that it? C’mon. Eat something,” I said.

     “I’m fine," she pouted.

     “Suit yourself. Mam, I’ll have the filet, rare, baked potato, loaded."

     “OK. It’ll be out shortly.”

     We waited in silence. I pretended to gaze back and forth around the room. I glanced back at the goth chick. She was gone. I turned to Ellen, knowing she probably caught me. The goth chick was sitting across from me.

     “Can I help you?” I asked her.

     “Funny,” she said, pursing her black lips. “If you’re gonna get drunk, I’d rather just go home. I’m in no mood.” She grabbed Ellen’s purse.

     “Whoa. What are you doing?” I grabbed her arm. “That’s my wife’s purse. You need to leave this table.”

     “Stop it, Jerry,” she said, now obviously upset.

     I stood up. “Look. I don’t know who you are, but I’m about to call the cops if you don’t get up and leave us alone.  Where's my wife?” I said, glancing around her.

     “Please stop,” she pleaded. “Let’s just go home.”

     I looked over at the guy. Sitting there across from him was Ellen.

     “Ellen, what are you doing?” I asked, walking over, grabbing her arm.

     “Hold on there, buddy. Don’t touch my wife,” said the guy.

     “Your wife? This is my wife. Ellen, get up. Let’s go.”

     He stood up and approached me the way a guy about to kick someone's ass might approach. “Dude, I’m getting pissed. Unhand my wife before I drop you!”

     “Let’s go, Jerry, you’re drunk,” yelled the goth chick behind me.

     Then, as fast as it all went wrong, I remembered. I looked at Ellen. She was scared, shaking. I let go of her arm. I looked back at the goth chick. She was crying, black running down her cheeks.

     Ellen, I thought. She is Ellen. The goth chick is Ellen. It came at me like a rush of cold air.

     “Let’s go, please,” she begged.

     “Listen to your wife, buddy,” said the guy.

     “I’m sorry. I…I……don’t know what happened.” I felt everyone in the restaurant looking at me. Slowly, I began walking away, wondering what the hell just happened. The little goth chick, Ellen, my wife, grabbed my hand and led me out.

Dog Red Rum

He had finally made it back home. Whether he believed the events that had transpired or not, they had happened. Sitting less than comfortably in his favorite chair, he was sure of that. The proof physically hurt in his extremities. The scars of the final fight would irritate him forever.

He lit another cigarette.

Flames in the fireplace bounced dim light about the room. He wondered if it might be a sign of his eternity. After all, he had led them against the Almighty. He was trained and unleashed against Him for the benefit of mankind. Now, doubt seemed more blasphemous than the act of saving the world from God’s Armageddon.

He puffed his cigarette.

Until now, saving the world was necessary. Briefly, even exciting. Suddenly, even with everyone still alive, the world felt empty to him.

He pulled another lung full of smoke. Relax, he thought. It’s over. It’s all over now. God and His army have fallen at the hand of man.

There is no one left to fight.

School

School, school, and more school.  One of these days I'm gonna buy me a school.  Then I'm gonna not go.

Float

“C’mon.”

“I don’t wanna go.”

“Why not? You’re the one that brought it up. Don’t be a wuss.”

“Shut up, Shane. I’m not a wuss.”

“Shhh…you wanna wake up the dead? Just come on.”

Shane disappeared into the dark. Jacob hated Shane when he called him a wuss. It’s just that he was always doin’ stuff to get in trouble.

“Wish I’d never brought it up,” Jacob mumbled under his breath, squeezing under the fence.

He found Shane in detective mode, investigating the best way to get in.

“Hold this.” Shane handed Jacob his towel and began trying the head-high windows.

“Shoot! They’re locked.”

“Let’s just go. I don’t wanna go to jail. My mom’ll…”

“Wuss.”

“I’m not a wuss!”

“Wuss.”

“Shut up, Shane.”

“Stay here, wuss, while I go around and find a way in.”

“Sometimes I really hate you,” said Jacob, feeling he really meant it.

And just like always, Jacob was by himself, out in the open, late at night, waiting on Shane to find the best way to get them into trouble. Thing is, they hardly ever got in trouble. Well, there was the one time when Mrs. Foley’s cat got out and they tried to return it. Dang cat freaked out and started scratchin’ the heck out of everything. Shane just dropped it and the darn thing ran out in street. Never even saw the truck. Other than that time, they didn’t really get in trouble. Shane taught Jacob how to lie pretty good.

“BOO!”

“Dang, dude! Don’t do that.”

Jacob turned around giving Shane the ol’ evil eye. Shane giggled and went back inside.

“Back door was practically wide open. Old man Jefferson forgot to lock it.” Shane walked to the edge of the water and dipped a toe. “Feels awesome.”

Jacob eyeballed the indoor pool. He wanted to feel better, but couldn’t. It just didn’t seem right, breakin’ in to swim with no adults around. What if something happened?

SPLASH.

Shane hit the deep end with nothing less than a cannonball, Jacob thought as water dogged him.

“You comin’?”

“Yeah. I’m comin’.” Jacob dropped his towel, kicked off two ragged flip flops, and started easing into the shallow end. The water did feel good. He began to relax a little. It wasn’t so bad, he guessed.

Shane spit a fountain of water towards Jacob. In return, Jacob pushed a handful of water into Shane’s face.

“Good one, J. This ain’t so bad, huh? Always said hang with me and have some fun.”

“It’s alright, I guess.”

“You guess? You guess?” Shane hit him with more water, playing.

“Hey. What’s that?” Shane started wading belly high toward the far side of the pool. Jacob could barely see anything in the dimly lit building.

“Where you goin’?”

“I see something.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t know yet. C’mon.”

Jacob started over. “Hold up, man.”

He caught up with Shane who had frozen, staring at the water just ahead of them.

“What’d you find? Is it any…Oh my God!” Jacob saw what Shane was looking at. Floating in the water just ahead of them. It was a body. It was a girl body. It was floating there. Just floating.

Shane must’ve grew wings because he flew out of the water. He didn’t wait for nothing.

“It’s Gloria Marvins! Oh my God! It’s Gloria Marvins,” Shane screamed, running outside. The front door slowly creaked close.

Jacob just stood there frozen, looking at the girl body floating in the water, mesmerized.

“Wuss,” he said under his breath.