As Carol and Jeremy walked through Old Town, the Duval Street traffic went from its usual busy to completely jammed. Since the streets were filled with gridlocked traffic, the early bikers just thundered down the sidewalks clipping the occasional dog, cat, or tourist.
By ten am, every bar in town was standing room only. The first of the beer riots started outside Sloppy Joe’s when word spread about a shortage of Corona. Soon afterwards, a T-shirt shop was looted to the bare walls and burned when they ran out of Marty the Manatee extra large T-shirts.
The National Guard finally got in town and started helping the local police haul drunks and rioters to the High School, which had been set up as an emergency jail.
In the water surrounding Key West, hundreds of boats full of divers circled in the hot sun waiting for the afternoon opening of the special four-day lobster season. Hundreds more boats were on their way, streaming down both coasts of the state. Mostly larger cabin cruisers and sail boats, but a few rag-tag old houseboats as well. Huge cruise ships scheduled to stop in Key West were suddenly booked to capacity. Several of the giant ships were steaming toward Key West, hoping for a shot at one of the few good anchorages left.
♦
Carol and Jeremy managed to get to the edge of Old Town in one piece. Jeremy kept begging to go back and visit the Pink Snapper Lounge for old times sake, but Carol wasn’t taking any chances on losing her assistant and having to go look for him. She opened her bag and pulled out the special dog collar she’d bought in LA before they left. It was part of the deal for Jeremy to come along, but he still whined when he saw it.
“You know the agreement here, my little sewer rat. Turn around!”
Jeremy reluctantly turned his back to Carol so she could put the collar around his neck and lock it on. Most places, a bright blue dog collar with an electronic shocking device for training bird dogs might draw some looks, but in Key West on the eve of Fantasy Fest it was hardly noticed.
With the number of people pouring onto the island, Carol was glad she’d spent the money on her new toy. She dropped the key down between her breasts, which were bunched up nicely from the designer bustier she wore, and showed Jeremy the little black box with the antenna.
“Supposed to have a range of two miles, which should work just fine here!” Carol gave an encouraging nudge. “Go on, act like you’re going to slip away!”
Jeremy didn’t seem to like the way things were going. He gave the collar a little test pull or two.
“And guess what! You can’t cut that collar off, it’s Kevlar with a titanium band inside. It’s waterproof and virtually indestructible. This is so cool!” She nudged Jeremy again. “Go on! Make a break for it!”
Jeremy stayed real still, like he knew he was going to get it. Carol stuck the transmitter in her least favorite person’s face.
“Look here, Jeremy! It even has an intensity control!” Carol regarded the little man standing very still, on his best behavior. “Oh well, I’m sure there’ll be some opportunity to try it out. I’ll just put it back in my bag here.”
Carol saw the little man start to relax and mashed the button as hard as she could before dropping it in the bag. Jeremy screamed some unintelligible sound and grabbed his neck. People on the crowded sidewalk stared. Carol tried to look concerned, but couldn’t stop laughing.
“It’s okay folks! He’s just having one of his little fits! A little too much sun and he gets like this!”
Jeremy was red in the face and making gurgling sounds as she pushed him along to the end of Duval Street.
♦
With Key West looking more like a city under siege by the hour, Carol realized the chances of finding one little mousy woman with two little gold statues were pretty slim. All they had to go on was someone using a stolen Spider Cult credit card for airfare to Key West on the same day Carol’s Chacmools disappeared.
They walked by the former site of the Southernmost Marker where there was a flurry of activity going on with dozens of workers building a huge raised stage.
It seemed that the upcoming Fantasy Fest Parades, festivals, and benefit concert had flushed all the locals out of their usual hiding places. Besides the thousands of extra tourists, fishermen, bikers, and assorted oddballs, the streets were jammed with scruffy locals with tropical birds and big lizards hanging off their shoulders. They were riding rusty bicycles and driving beater cars whose only saving grace was their colorful paintjobs.
Carol and Jeremy walked by a couple of black people who seemed to be selling the last of their seashells to a throng of souvenir-hungry tourists. There was a woman sitting in the shade behind the shell stand with a shawl over her head holding an infant wrapped in an old blanket. The woman had her head down and seemed to be singing to the baby.
Carol had no idea how she was ever going to find Sara in this mess.
∨ Key Weirder ∧
40
Sara
Sara tried to relax, but she was still anxious. There were a lot of things she needed to know if she was going into the Everglades by herself to find the old treasure hunter Mr. Willie told her about. The evening before she’d spent at the home of the two Willie’s, eating some fine food and listening to stories about boats and the sea. Along with the sea stories were some detailed instructions on navigation and boat engines.
They stayed up late, and when she finally got to sleep on the lumpy old couch, her dreams were of Charlie and the powerspot where the monument had been.
♦
Willie had never seen Key West so busy. People were buying his shells at a record pace, and he hardly had time to think about much else, but he did. He thought about Sara and their talk the night before. At first, there were some serious doubts in his mind about a woman going into the Everglades by herself, but he soon realized this particular young woman was different. As they sat around a low table on the screened porch, he found her to be an excellent student, totally concentrated on everything he said.
“This be a chart. Shows this Key West and Keys here, and all this up here what they be calling Ten Thousand Islands and Everglades. They no cities at all in this whole area here. No stores, no roads, no houses and no people even. They no bathrooms, neither.”
Willie wanted to make it clear what this little woman was getting herself into. Sara just shrugged and kept looking at the chart. She asked all the right questions and more than once he had to call on memories of experiences he hadn’t thought about in years.
His grandson usually paid no mind to his stories, but he sat quietly the whole evening learning about tides, wind, waves, the moon and the sun. Maybe he was starting to grow up a little, or maybe he too could feel something in the air around this mysterious young woman with the two gold idols.
♦
Sara was sitting in the shade behind the two shell merchants, anxiously thinking about her upcoming trip, when Carol and Jeremy walked by. She’d been expecting Carol to come after her, but it was still a shock to see the tall, shapely woman dressed like a lingerie model walking down the street twenty feet away with fat little Jeremy in tow. They didn’t notice her sitting there, no one did.
Arrangements had been made the day before to rent a boat, and Willie was going to show Sara how to operate it after they closed up shop. Since it looked like they were going to be sold out of everything soon, the hands-on lessons might be starting early.
“You ready for a boat ride, little lady?” The senior Willie flashed a big smile full of gold. “It be a mighty fine looking day! We get moving here, you might be getting on the water early enough to go on up today!”
Sara stood up and stretched. The tattered shawl went in a trash drum, so did the bundle of rags she’d been singing to. The two Willies seemed to be getting used to her strange ways, and hadn’t mentioned the disguise. She felt different, as well. Making decisions on her own after so many years gave her a weird feeling, kind of a sense of freedom.
The former Witchette was smiling from her head to her toes as she
stood before her new friends.
“Mr. Willie.” She bowed deeply to the old man. “And Mr. Willie.” Another bow and a smile for the boy. “I would be delighted to go for a boat ride with you two gentlemen.”
Sara put on a cloth hat and sunglasses from her bag, and again looked like the most average of tourists. She hooked an arm through the arm of each of the Willies and off they went toward the marina.
∨ Key Weirder ∧
41
Taco Bob Visits the West Coast
“Trout any way you can get ’em!”
After getting myself out of foggy-ass Cedar Key, I pointed my old truck south again and stopped a couple places along the west coast to check out the fishing.
I’d been curious about the Yankeetown area, so I went by and gave it a look. A long road came to a dead end right at a boat ramp on the Gulf next to a good-looking river. There were a couple of little islands in close, and a channel going out through the flats. It was some prime looking trout water. I was mighty tempted to throw the boat back in and give it a shot, but I wanted to stop by Orlando that evening since I was headed back around that part of the state.
Drove down south a little further and checked out the Homosassa River, there where it goes out to the gulf. It was getting to be that time of the year when fisherman from all over the world gather up there and go out after some of the biggest tarpon found anywhere in the state.
There was a TV on in the fishcamp tackle shop, and a handful of old-timers hanging around. The news was just ending, and the fellas were mostly trading opinions on the Southernmost Bandit while taking the occasional discreet pull on a Bush or Old Milwaukee beer they’d have stuck in a pocket or paper bag. A collection of shiny new pickups, rusty vans and the occasional flashy sports cars sat patiently under old oaks that shaded the parking area.
A few boats had come back in from a day of fishing, and I talked to a couple guides cleaning some trout for their clients. Told me the trout and redfish were there, but were playing a little hard to get that day.
I noticed an ol’ fella come up the river to the boat ramp in his boat. He seemed to be having a little trouble, so I went over to give him a hand. We got his boat up on the trailer and he drove the whole rig over in the shade. He thanked me and asked if I wanted a fish for my dinner. Judging by the looks of his old boat and motor, and ancient-looking fishing tackle, I didn’t figure the poor ol’ fella had much of any kind of fish, so I real polite-like turned down his offer.
“Suit yourself, I got plenty.”
He opened up a beat-up old cooler strapped down in the front of his boat and I looked down at his limit of nice fat trout and a big redfish.
“Got this too!”
He reached down under the trout and pulled up a nice flounder. He wasn’t done either.
“This makes some good stuffed flounder if you got any crabmeat for the stuffing.” He took the piece of burlap cloth off a bucket. “Got that too!” He sure did, almost a full bucket of live blue crabs.
The old fella was enjoying the surprised look on my face. He took the biggest of the trout and wrapped it in some newspaper.
“I insist!” He handed it over and held up a hand when I tried to protest. “I done retired a few years ago. Just go out when the wife and me feel like a little seafood.”
He showed me a popping float he used and we talked trout bait a little before he headed out.
About the time I got done hanging around the fishcamp and talking fishing it was getting dark, so I lit out for Orlando. I hoped Mary Ann would be glad to see me, even with showing up late, unannounced, and a little scruffy after spending the night sleeping in the sand out on an island.
♦
They let me get a shower before we all sat down for the long version of the big, bald-headed guy who’d been by earlier. I was sitting with a couple of highly pissed-off young women that evening.
Mary Ann had come home just a little after the fella run off. Her and her roommate worked at the same security outfit there in Orlando, mostly doing plainclothes security at ball games and concerts. The roommate’s specialty was the dogs. They were used to dealing with people who felt the need to be assholes, but didn’t at all like it happening where they lived. I gave it some hard thinking.
“Ladies, I got no earthly idea who might be looking for me. The only folks even know I was heading this way are the two Willies, Pete, and his sister. And any of them would have called here if anybody like Baldy came around asking about me.”
At least we did have a good description to go on. We also had his gun. Mary Ann was going to see about getting the prints off the gun the next day, then maybe we’d have a name too.
From the story they told about the big shaved-head guy and the dog, I would imagine wherever he got off to he was a hurting son-of-a-bitch.
∨ Key Weirder ∧
42
Saul
Saul was hurting after his Orlando visit. Headed south and found a little hospital near the Everglades sugarcane fields. Just get a few stitches in the groin and hand, then maybe head over to Miami. Hole up for a couple of days.
Called in to LA the next morning, see if there was any news. Suits wanted to know if there was a problem on his end. He didn’t need any grief from those people.
Couldn’t believe he lost his gun. Just a throw-down with the numbers filed off, but still. Maybe let things settle down a couple days in Orlando, then go back. Fix that dog and the woman both.
∨ Key Weirder ∧
43
Sara on the water
Earlier in the morning, before the governor’s Key West press conference, Sara had bought everything on the list that Willie said she’d need for her trip into the swamp. The food and water items made sense, but she didn’t understand why she needed four different kinds of mosquito repellent, mosquito netting, and a mosquito hood. Must be some mosquitoes where she was going.
♦
The man at the boat rental place wasn’t happy to see these people coming back to the marina. It was almost lunchtime and he was about to head out for a nice relaxing lunch after a hectic morning. He wasn’t happy to see them because, like everything else in Key West, the price of rental boats had gone up quite nicely after the Governor’s press conference. The special four-day lobster season had brought the divers and fisherman in fast and hard. He’d already rented out all his boats for double the going rate and had a long waiting list.
“You folks going to go out for lobster?”
It was an odd group: an ancient black guy, a black kid wearing three ball caps and his underwear pulled up above his pants, and a quiet little white woman. What the hell, it was Key West.
The old guy gave him a look, but didn’t say anything, just went straight over and got in the boat they’d picked out and paid for before the prices had gone up.
“You got them gas tanks filled up in this little scow like we talked about?” The old man hit the key and the motor started.
“Sure enough partner! You sure you want to go out today? Lot of traffic out there with those lobster people now. If you want to change your mind on the rental I’ll be glad to give you your money back. No problem!”
He followed that up with his best salesman smile. The smiling stopped when the old guy waved the woman and kid aboard.
“Remember to have that boat back here by 5 pm day after tomorrow! There’s a late charge after 5pm!”
He started to mention stories of people falling out of rental boats and getting eaten by sharks, but the old fart was busy explaining things to the woman and wasn’t paying him any attention. By the time his rental reached the far end of the marina, the woman was steering the boat.
♦
There was a place they could pull the boat in on the other side of the island, not far from the home of the two Willies. They got all of Sara’s supplies and extra cans of gas loaded, and Willie went over some things on the boat one more time before he got out. With the waterproof chart taped to the console of th
e boat to guide her up to the mainland and the Ten Thousand Islands, Sara was alone in a boat for the first time in her life. She gave a little wave and a smile to the two figures watching her from the shore.
After a quick look around for other boats, she pushed the throttle all the way down. The skiff jumped up on a plane and was out of sight in a little over a minute.
∨ Key Weirder ∧
44
Carol and Jeremy
Mama Rosa the palm reader was doing a good business with all the extra people in town. She had an almost constant supply of eager tourists who wanted to be told that things were going to get better by a genuine Gypsy Far East Fortuneteller from Eastern Dayton.
It was an easy gig. Sit in the little room she rented in the back of a t-shirt shop, look at the tarot cards, ask a few questions, and basically tell people what they wanted to hear.
The little bald man she’d made a sweet payday off once before was the next to come into the darkened room. Business was definitely looking up.
“Hey Mama Rosa, remember me? You found a woman I was looking for a while back?”
The blue dog collar was new, but this was Key West, so she didn’t ask. The former Ohio housewife let her eyelids droop and adjusted her numerous bracelets and rings.
“Yes,” she said slowly in her best deep mysterious gypsy voice. “You are the one who seeks a little gold statue and pays with a little gold card.”
This guy named Jeremy and some woman had been showing the picture of a missing gold statue around town before, and Mama Rosa knew a lot of people. The little man seemed impressed.
“Hey, that’s right! Actually we’re looking for the same statue again.”
Key Weirder Page 9