AJ gave a snort. “Yeah, you and my Grandpa.”
Chaz flashed brilliant white teeth in a smile. “You’re new here. I’m Chaz.”
With a nod, he answered, “AJ.”
“So the old man’s got the hots for the mermaids?” Chaz leaned closer.
The sudden need for a buffer zone made AJ step back. “Ever since I was little. He carves one every chance he gets.”
“Carves them?” Chaz’s interest level ratcheted upward in a shot.
“Yeah, out of wood. Not half bad, either.” Something about the way Chaz looked at him gave AJ the willies. Like ants crawled over his skin instead of Chaz’s penetrating gaze. Though he got the feeling Chaz didn’t trust what anyone said.
A sparkle lit Chaz’s eyes. “He should sell ‘em. In the gift shop. They’d go like hot cakes.”
AJ could just see the old man’s face if someone ever suggested it. “No, he’d never sell any of them. Says he’s trying to make one to look like the one he saw back in 1958.”
Chaz leapt on the revelation like a barn cat on a mouse. “Here?”
“No. Out there.” AJ jerked his head toward the sea.
Confused, Chaz said, “Nah, these girls have performed here since the 1940s, but nowhere else but in these spring waters.”
“I know the history.” Baiting Chaz was the most fun he’d had in a long time.
“So what’re you sayin’?” Chaz paled. “You mean… a real mermaid?”
AJ shrugged. “So he says.”
Chaz poked at AJ’s chest, his eyes wide. “I’ve been reading up on it. Guys swear they’ve seen the real thing. All over the world.”
“Grandpa swears she was the real deal.” AJ didn’t know why he tormented the guy, added fuel to the guy’s insane fire. And Chaz burned bright.
“Hey, man, I would love to talk to him. Maybe we can all get together. After work.” Again, Chaz stood too close for comfort.
A funny feeling snuck over AJ. Fun was fun, but this guy needed to tone down his intensity. Or learn where to draw the line. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Grandpa doesn’t like to talk about it.”
“AJ,” said an angry voice down the hall.
He wheeled to face a stern-faced Harry. “You were supposed to come find me fifteen minutes ago.”
Immediately, Chaz began working his broom and dust pan, sweeping as if he’d been passing by.
AJ straightened his stance. “Sorry, sir. I lost track of time.” Damn, he hadn’t even had time to eat lunch.
Harry glared at Chaz. “Don’t let it happen again. Let’s go, people are lining up. I’ll go with you on the first ride, then you’re on your own.”
Chaz continued to shuffle down the aisle, sweeping wrappers and ticket stubs into his long-handled dust pan.
AJ followed Harry into the blazing sunlight, where he got into a golf cart and started it. AJ hopped on, and they drove down the walkway.
AJ gripped the seat as Harry jerked the cart around pedestrians.
“First thing every day, it’s important to check the river level. If it’s low, then you won’t be able to take as many passengers. You’ll learn to gauge it.”
Maybe the river cruise would be more interesting than the ticket booth. But it wouldn’t take much.
At the dock, Harry whooshed the cart to a stop outside the open-sided, thatched-roofed hut marked Wilderness Cruise Entrance. Four adults waited on the bench inside as a whirl of kids chased each other, screaming and laughing.
Harry strode past them. “No running on the dock, please. Folks, the cruise will depart in five minutes.” He pulled a key from his pocket and handed it to AJ as they walked toward the boat. “You drive, I’ll talk. After today, you’ll have to do both. You’re not afraid of crowds, are you?”
AJ thought of being onstage, swarms of girls swaying to his music. He preferred his crowds to be of a certain gender, age and shape, but no, crowds didn’t faze him. “No, sir.”
Harry brightened. “Good. I’ll give you a copy of the script to bring home so you can study it. You’ll also have to learn the local wildlife–alligators, snapping turtles, herons, ducks, pelicans, otters. Whatever you happen to see along the way.”
Great. A job with homework. Guess the old man thought it would help keep AJ out of trouble.
Still, he liked cruising the river better than sitting in a damn booth.
Harry pointed at the engine. “Set it in the water.”
AJ unlatched it and tilted the propellers underwater. He must have done it right, or Harry would have corrected him. AJ sat in the pilot’s seat as Harry went on.
“Wait until everyone’s seated. Another tip: don’t let people on right away. Youngsters get bored and tend to climb. Two fell in last year. It’s your job to fish them out.” Harry checked his watch. “It’s time. I’ll get the gate.” He walked back to the chain across the dock and unhooked one side. “All right, folks. Watch your step getting on. One at a time. Slowly, please.”
Chapter Three
By the third cruise, AJ knew most of the spiel. Navigating the river filled him with a sense of calm. The slow rhythm of the boat, the groan of the propellers against the water eased his tightened nerves like subliminal music, the low hum and harmony of predictability. Security. Working here might become a liability if he became too comfortable with its lull. At least the thirty-minute ride meant no one group rode long enough to annoy him. Occasionally, a young mom or pretty teen would smile at him in an inviting way. Those type of smiles could lead to trouble, but there was nothing in the rule book saying AJ couldn’t look.
As the last passenger climbed off the boat, Harry slapped AJ’s shoulder. “Good job. Most first-timers have trouble bringing the boat to the dock, but you did very well.”
AJ stood to slide away from the man’s grasp. “Thanks.”
“Secure the engine. Wait until morning to refuel so no one can steal the gas.”
The late afternoon sun got underneath his shirt as AJ walked to the locker room.
As he pulled out his T-shirt, Chaz strolled in. “Hey, AJ, glad I caught you. I’ve been thinkin’ about our conversation earlier.”
“Yeah?” AJ focused on the inside of the locker, though it held nothing.
Chaz clamped his hand on AJ’s shoulder, and spoke in the low voice of a confidante. “I have a lot of questions I need answers to. Take me to see the old man, will you?”
Tired of the conversation, AJ slammed his locker shut. “I can’t. He’ll kick me out for telling you.” Maybe the guy would shut up now.
Chaz pressed closer. “Come on. I just need to ask him some questions.”
AJ rolled his polo shirt tight. He should have kept his own mouth shut, then he wouldn’t have to deal with this piranha nibbling him to death.
Chaz bit his lip. His face twitched his eyes wide. “I know. Invite him out to dinner. I’ll run into you, by accident, and bring it up. You know, in casual conversation.”
AJ laughed. “The fact my grandfather saw an actual mermaid? Or thinks he did,” he said, mostly to himself. Grandpa had only said it once or twice, and the strange look on his face meant he was somehow testing the waters, either teasing AJ or gauging his reaction. Now this dude wouldn’t let it go. “You’ll just happen to mention it.”
“No, I’ll talk about the show, and the mermaids here.” Chaz’s smooth tone attempted to soothe and sway. “Then I’ll say I’ve always wanted to see an honest-to-God mermaid.”
What was wrong with this creep? AJ needed some distance. “He’ll see right through you. And kick me out.”
Chaz mock-punched his shoulder. “I’ll buy your grandpa some beers. It’ll be a good time.”
He shifted out of Chaz’s reach. “Maybe some other night, dude.”
When AJ got home, Grandpa sat at the kitchen table, stone-faced and glassy-eyed as he looked outside. His grandfather spent too much time at home by himself, looking out the damn window or watching TV. A night out wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
“Hey, Grandpa.” He roused his grandfather from his reverie.
“Oh. AJ. How was work.” Grandpa’s voice held no energy. He blinked hard as if to clear his vision, put on his reading glasses and picked up the newspaper.
AJ poured a glass of tap water and gulped it down, though it tasted of seaweed, or worse. “Good. I want to take you out tonight. To celebrate.”
Grandpa grunted. “Spending your money before you make it, eh?”
“To thank you. For helping me.” AJ leaned against the fridge. “What do you say?”
His grandfather turned in his seat. “I say… why not. It’s about time you paid me back for something.”
AJ grinned. “My thought exactly.” He rinsed his glass. “But you’ll have to lend it to me first.”
Chapter Four
Mel’s Bar sat along the waterfront, the Gulf of Mexico lapping at the pier beyond the street. Grandpa pulled up outside, stepped out of his Caprice and stretched.
The door creaked as AJ climbed out. He started toward the entrance, then realized his grandfather wasn’t following.
The old man looked out over the sun-kissed waves as if hypnotized by their rhythm.
AJ opened his mouth to call to him, but held back. The sea always distracted his grandfather, and sometimes seemed to overwhelm him.
A motorcycle slowed, its roar breaking the silence. Just beyond where Grandpa stood, the rider steered it into the lot and revved its engine as he halted it in a parking space.
Grandpa glanced at AJ and grunted. “What are you waiting for? Let’s get out of this heat and get a table.”
AJ bounded to the door and held it open. The motorcycle guy strolled through. His grandfather followed.
Closing the door, AJ blinked to adjust his eyesight to the dark interior. No wonder the old man liked this place. Its dim lights must remind him of home.
Grandpa, midway past the bar, waved at the man behind it. “Hey Mel. You remember AJ?”
AJ nodded at the man, who looked to be in his sixties, his leathery skin a tan so deep, it wouldn’t fade if he summered at the Arctic Circle. AJ didn’t remember Mel any more than Mel remembered him.
“How’s it going?” Mel wiped a beer glass with a white cloth, keenly eyeing AJ. “Take a table anywhere. I’ll send Sandra over with some menus.”
His grandfather headed to the corner booth and wedged himself into the seat. From there, he had a clear view of the Gulf.
As soon as AJ sat, a woman arrived. “Hello, Walt. Haven’t seen you in awhile. Who’s your friend?” She smiled at AJ.
Short, and thick around the middle, her gold bracelets jingled as she handed them each a menu. Her heavy makeup, with alarmingly red hair and lipstick to match, made it difficult to pinpoint her age. Gold hoop earrings and three golden necklaces distracted from her face.
“My grandson. AJ, this is Sandra.” Grandpa’s voice turned conspiratorial. “Mel’s wife. So don’t get any funny ideas.” He winked at the waitress.
“Oh, Walt.” Her loud giggle attracted the glances of a few patrons. She asked AJ, “Are you as big a flirt as your grandfather?”
“No.” The question caught AJ off guard. A flirt. He’d never used the adjective in conjunction with Grandpa, but there he was, ordering a pitcher of beer in the same tone as he might use to ask whether Sandra had plans for Saturday night.
Sandra swished away from their table to fetch the pitcher.
Grandpa grimaced at the menu. “What?”
AJ stifled a grin. “Nothing. I never knew you were a ladies’ man, that’s all.”
His gruff tone took AJ by surprise. “Nonsense. Don’t say such things. You’ll incite idle gossip.”
“No, I–”
Grandpa poked the tabletop. “And gossip hurts people. Innocent people.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean anything.” AJ looked at the menu to avoid his grandfather’s scrutiny. He hadn’t said it, for chrissakes.
When Sandra returned for their orders, Grandpa kept his conversation polite but abrupt as he asked for the crab cake special. Sandra’s head bobbed uncertainly, her eyes wide. To ease the tension, AJ spoke to her as if she were a favorite aunt, and smiled as he handed her the menus.
Grandpa folded his hands on the table. “Tell me about work. How was it?”
“Good.” He shrugged, avoiding eye contact and hoping his grandfather wouldn’t read into his noncommittal tone.
“You’re in trouble already?” His grandfather always could pick up the subtlest cues.
Grandpa’s glare made AJ shift in his seat. “No, it went well. Tobias did suggest I not…” He pursed his lips and looked out the window. Maybe now was not the time to tell the old man he’d been reprimanded for watching the mermaids perform.
“Not what?” The teacher in Grandpa surfaced at awkward times, always ready to grade his performance.
AJ leaned across the table. If anyone would understand an obsession with mermaids, it would be Grandpa. “They’re hypnotic. I watched them for a minute, and forgot everything.”
The gleam in his grandfather’s eye told AJ he understood, all right, though he didn’t move a muscle. “The mermaids.” His voice sounded as far away as his gaze.
“It’s like they cast a spell on me or something.” Turned him on, more like. Their flowing hair, their slow movements oozed sensuality.
Grandpa snapped his menu open. “Pah. They’re not the real thing. When you see a real mermaid, you’re changed forever.”
Whoa, there it was. And without any coaxing. Better yet, without Chaz around. “Tell me.”
His grandfather leaned an arm against the back of the booth. “What?”
AJ leaned further, not deterred by his grandfather’s sudden coyness. “About them. The mermaids. You saw a real one, didn’t you.”
As if gauging his sincerity, Grandpa looked him over: AJ waited with his entire body, listening with full attention. So neither of them noticed anyone approach.
“AJ, my man. Funny runnin’ into you here.” Beer bottle in hand, Chaz stood at their table. Everything about him looked slick, from his gelled hair to his tight black T-shirt to his wide black belt.
Chaz’s steady smile failed to put AJ at ease. His eyes twitched wide, then narrowed, in a gotcha kind of way. His eyes glasslike, he aimed his plastered-on smile at Grandpa. “Hey, how you doin’? I’m Chaz. I work with AJ.”
Grandpa turned his head slowly and raised an eyebrow. “Is that so.” His tone indicated doubt, likely about how much Chaz worked. He appeared none too happy to make Chaz’s acquaintance.
Nor was AJ happy to see him. He’d interrupted a critical moment–Grandpa looked on the verge of revealing, at long last, his secret.
Chaz glanced from the old man to AJ. “You know, I’m here by myself. Mind if I join youse?”
A sudden irritation came over AJ at the lilt of Chaz’s voice, the mobster inflection that rose, then fell at the end of each sentence. He shoved in beside AJ before either could answer. “I ain’t interruptin’, am I?” The way he smiled at AJ, he knew he had. It appeared to magnify his craving to hear Grandpa’s story.
AJ sat back against the booth. “No, we were just…” He glanced at his grandfather, whose narrowed eyes and unmoving stature worried AJ a bit. Grandpa did not like Chaz one iota. An unerring judge of character, his grandfather had divined Chaz had none. Chaz’s poor grammar would have further chafed him.
“Young man,” Grandpa boomed. “We were just discussing mermaids.”
The conversational bait hung heavy on his grandfather’s breath.
Chaz’s wide eyes glazed like a junkie about to score a fix. “Yeah?”
AJ held claim over this territory, and didn’t want this dude sharing any of it. “I told Grandpa how unhappy Tobias was with me showing an appreciation for the Weeki Wachee girls.”
“They’re some mermaids all right.” Chaz tipped the beer bottle to his lips. “’Course, I heard they’re nothin’ like the real thing.”
&n
bsp; AJ sizzled in a slow burn. The dude wasted no time in zeroing in.
Grandpa’s eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly. “Is that so. And in what respect do they differ?”
As he spoke, Chaz’s head jerked, his shoulder twitched. “They ain’t real. Those tails come off at the end of the day and they go home to houses like you and me. Not to the sea.”
Pouring more beer into his glass, then AJ’s, Grandpa chuckled. “You speak as if you have first-hand knowledge of such things.”
AJ grinned as he sipped. Grandpa smelled the amateur in Chaz. This would be fun to watch: his grandfather dismantling Chaz, stripping off the layers of insincerity and false charm, to reveal his ignorance.
“No, but I know guys who do.” Chaz’s knee bounced.
Grandpa had pegged him as a con man, and Chaz knew it.
Grandpa widened his eyes in mock surprise. “Perhaps these ‘guys’ are pulling your leg. Have you ever considered such a possibility?”
Chaz smiled. “Maybe. Or maybe they’re tellin’ me old stories. Stories told by someone else first.” He sat back, a sparkle in his eye. He thought he’d turned the tables on the old man.
He didn’t know Grandpa.
“They may very well believe them. It proves nothing.” The verbal sparring brought the color back to Grandpa’s face. Nothing like cutting a man in two with sharp words. And Grandpa kept his arsenal well-stocked.
Chaz the comeback man sat silent, and looked to AJ for help.
AJ sipped his beer, not meeting his gaze. Tomorrow, he’d say he tried to be cool so he didn’t raise his grandfather’s suspicious. Truthfully, he wished Chaz never showed up. Especially at that particular moment.
Grandpa leaned back as Sandra carried two plates to the table, and set his crab cakes in front of him. As she handed AJ his plate, Chaz’s eyes followed the barbecued ribs. If eyes could drool, Chaz’s would have.
“You’re a darling, Sandra,” said Grandpa. “This young man joined us, but you’ll have to check with him about his dinner plans.”
Surfacing Page 2