Absolute Pressure

by Sigmund Brouwer

  Sherri gave a crooked smile. “Scared of sharks, I guess.”

  Uncle Gord laughed. It was a forced laugh, like he had been waiting for an excuse to laugh.

  “Should have seen him pull his wet suit off after he got back on the GypSea,” Uncle Gord told Sherri. “He’d filled it with more than water, if you get my drift.”

  “Ha, ha,” I said.

  Uncle Gord opened the driver’s door for me to get in. He couldn’t get rid of me fast enough.

  “Well,” I said. “I guess this is good-bye.”

  “You’ve got plenty of cash for gas and hotels,” Uncle Gord said. “And you have my cell number in case anything goes wrong.”

  “Yes,” I said.

  Sherri went around to the other side of the truck.

  “Stupid shoelace,” I heard her say to herself.

  She squatted as Uncle Gord kept talking. Even the top of her head, which was all I could see, was distracting.

  “Don’t drive for more than four hours at a time,” he said. “Make sure you stop and stretch. Take naps too.”

  “Yes,” I said. I wanted to be talking to Sherri. Not to him. But really, what was I going to say? Hey, Sherri, I think you’re really cool. I wish I wasn’t so weird, then maybe you could like me too.

  “And we’ll see you next summer when business picks up again, right?” His lie.

  “Right.” My lie.

  Sherri was in sight again. She wandered back around the other side of the truck. All the way to the front to where I stood at the driver’s door.

  “See ya,” she said. Casual. She stuck out her hand to shake my hand.

  “See ya,” I said. I shook her hand. I would not have minded a hug. Like say, for about a half hour. “Hope your shoelace stays tied.”

  What a dumb thing to say.

  “See ya,” she said again. She let go of my hand.

  “See ya,” I said again.

  And that was it.

  I got in the truck. Started it. And drove away.

  chapter twenty-one

  As I made my way along Flagler Avenue, I was the slowest driver on the road. At every traffic light, I wanted to turn around. First, I knew Uncle Gord was in trouble. Second, I didn’t want my last good-bye to Sherri to just be a handshake and two words.

  See ya.

  I knew what was going to hurt over the next few hours.

  The mile markers.

  About a hundred years earlier, a guy named Henry Flagler completed the railroad that linked Key West to Miami. Mile marker zero was at the Key West Post Office. Mile marker one was one mile closer to Miami. And so on, all the way to Florida City, where the markers ended at 127.5 miles.

  At the end of every summer, as Uncle Gord drove me to Miami for my flight to Chicago, I’d see the mile markers, knowing the higher the number, the farther away I was from Key West. It was always depressing.

  This time promised to be a lot worse.

  Hope your shoelace stays tied. See ya.

  Those were going to be my last words to her.

  My last words. Not the last words of the summer, knowing I would come back. But probably my last words. Because this wasn’t like the other times. Uncle Gord wasn’t driving me. It wasn’t the end of summer. And there wasn’t anything to come back to.

  I passed the Key West airport, telling myself I should turn around. But UncleGord had made it clear I was not welcome in Key West.

  At mile marker four, I passed the entrance to the Key West Golf Club. It made me wish that Uncle Gord did something safe like golfing, instead of looking for pirate treasure. It made me wish that my biggest worry was trying to hit a golf ball.

  As I thought about this, the truck’s ride became really bumpy.

  A little farther down the road, just before reaching the small stretch of open water to Raccoon Key, I realized the back left tire was going flat.

  Normally, this would be bad news.

  Instead I grinned.

  It was a sign: I was being told I shouldn’t leave Key West.

  I pulled over onto a side street, Key Haven Road, where there was a big parking lot next to a gas station.

  Yup. Good news. I couldn’t leave Key West. Not until the tire was fixed. How could Uncle Gord blame me for this?

  Another idea hit me.

  I stepped out of the truck into the Gulf breeze. I opened the hood and pulled a few spark plug wires loose. Then I tucked them in place so it would look like they were connected. Now I could tell Uncle Gord the engine had stopped working too. That would buy me a day or two longer in Key West. At least the weekend. And the guys who called themselves Miami lawyers would be gone at the end of it.

  I’d see what I could do between now and then.

  I had just shut the hood when I saw a familiar scooter ridden by a familiar person.

  Sherri.

  I tasted blackberries.

  Yup, things were definitely looking better and better.

  chapter twenty-two

  “Wow,” Sherri said, as she pulled up on her scooter beside the truck. “What a coincidence. I was going out to Raccoon Key because I heard about a job. Lucky for you, huh?”

  “Lucky,” I said. Very lucky.

  “How about I give you a ride back?” she said. “You can call a towing service or something from town.”

  “Sure.”

  She patted the back of her scooter. “It won’t be fast. But it should get us there.”

  I jumped on the back of the scooter. I was afraid to put my arms around her. She grabbed my hands and wrapped my arms around her waist.

  “That’s better,” she said. “Hold on tight.”

  Like I wouldn’t.

  She took us all the way back into downtown Key West. She went slowly, and it was the best half hour of my life.

  She parked in front of an ice-cream store.

  “Let’s talk,” she said, pulling off her helmet and shaking her hair loose.

  Like I wouldn’t.

  I bought her a milkshake. Chocolate. Vanilla for me. We sat in the shade of a palmetto.

  “Yesterday afternoon,” she said after a long slurp, “when you guys were out in the GypSea, I came back to the office. I saw Judd inside. I thought it was weird. You know, because of his social security number being wrong. So I watched through the window. He was on the computer. So I know he’s up to something.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “But what?” I still didn’t know if I should tell her about the three-hundred-million-dollar treasure.

  “And don’t you think it’s weird that you nearly died twice in accidents in one week? I’m sure that’s why Gord is sending you away.”

  “Maybe it’s weird,” I said again. “Or maybe it’s just bad luck.” I kept my eyes on my milkshake. She was very distracting, and I didn’t want her to know it.

  “And one other thing,” she said. “Just shaking hands good-bye is rotten.”

  I lifted my eyes and stared straight into hers.

  “Huh?” I managed to say.

  “We’ve been working together for four summers. Maybe you aren’t going to be back next summer. Don’t you think after all that time it should be a little more than a handshake for good-bye?”

  “Um, yes.”

  “But with Gord there, what could I say to you? I’m glad we can at least have a milk-shake together before you go.”

  “Me too.” I said. I lifted my milkshake as if I were toasting her.

  She kept staring at me.

  “What?” I said.

  “How can you be so stupid?”

  “What?”

  “I’m not going to throw myself at you,” she said. “So you’d better figure out what to say next if you want me to stick around to finish my milkshake.”

  I nearly choked. Did she mean...

  “I mean,” she said. “There’s a reason I don’t have a boyfriend. And lots of guys ask me out.”

  Did she mean...

  “And maybe that reason is you,” she said.
/>   Wow. I didn’t know what to say.

  She waited a few moments. Then she frowned at me. And stood up.

  “Good-bye then,” she said. “I guess I’ve made a big enough fool out of myself.”

  “Um, no,” I blurted. “Let me explain.”

  She sat down. “Okay. You’ve got thirty seconds to give me a reason to stay.”

  “I’m too weird for someone like you,” I said.

  “You don’t seem too weird. And I’ve known you a long time.”

  “Your face. Each time I see it, I taste blackberries.”

  She raised an eyebrow. Puzzled.

  I took a deep breath. And explained.

  chapter twenty-three

  I spent the rest of the day looking for Judd Warner. I finally saw him leaving the dock in the late afternoon.

  It was easy to stay out of sight. It was a Friday evening. Lots of people on the streets.

  I followed him back to Uncle Gord’s dive shop. That shouldn’t have been surprising. After all, Judd Warner—if that was his name—worked for Uncle Gord.

  It wasn’t surprising, either, that the dive shop was empty. With me and Sherri out of work, only Judd and Uncle Gord still worked there. And I knew Uncle Gord was getting ready for another night trip on the GypSea.

  What was surprising was that Judd broke into Uncle Gord’s office.

  I was watching from a window near the back of the shop.

  Judd snooped around for a few minutes, and when he stepped outside the office again, he had a pistol in his hand.

  I crouched farther down behind the window. I waited for him to walk past. I held my breath and hoped he couldn’t hear how loud my heart was beating.

  Judd stepped past the counter. He didn’t look behind him. He didn’t see me.

  He was wearing black pants and a black T-shirt. As he walked toward the back room, he folded a piece of paper and stuck it in his back pocket. He lifted his shirt and put his pistol into his belt. He dropped the shirt to cover the pistol.

  I kept holding my breath. I watched his shadow. It took a step toward the front, then was gone. He stepped outside. A few moments later, the door at the front opened and closed. I heard the turn of the key. Judd had locked the front door behind him.

  I stood up.

  What should I do?

  If I called the police, what would I tell them? It didn’t look like Judd had robbed Uncle Gord. It seemed like the piece of paper had been important. The police would ask me what was missing, and I wouldn’t be able to tell them. Plus, it would be Judd’s word against mine.

  I wanted to let Uncle Gord know about this. But then I’d have to tell him I had not left Key West.

  I stood for a while longer. Flies buzzed against the window. Other than that and the street noises, the dive shop was very quiet.

  I thought it was strange that Judd was wearing black jeans and a black T-shirt. Although it was early evening, it was stillvery hot. Why wear black in this heat? I had never seen Judd wearing black before.

  I grinned at how smart I was. If you were going to follow people at night, wouldn’t you wear something dark?

  It was Friday night. Judd knew that Uncle Gord would be going out in the dive boat tonight. Judd was probably going to follow them. Maybe even go on board the dive boat. There was plenty of room to hide on it.

  There were two ways to find out if I was right.

  I could tell Uncle Gord. He and his three friends from Miami, whoever they were, could watch for Judd. But if they stopped him, it would be easy for Judd to come up with an excuse for being near the dive boat. Worse, if I was wrong about Judd, I’d look stupid.

  Or I could keep my mouth shut and follow Judd myself. If he really was doing something wrong, I’d know it by watching him. I’d already waited behind the dive shoptoo long to know where he had gone. How could I catch up to him?

  I slapped my forehead. If Judd was going to spy on Uncle Gord tonight, there was only one place Judd would go. To the GypSea.

  The sun was almost ready to set. It wouldn’t be too long before Uncle Gord and his friends would be on the dive boat, getting ready to leave. If Judd was following them, he’d be there too.

  But I still had a little time. I ran to the beach house that Uncle Gord rented. My stuff was still in a suitcase in the truck. But I’d be able to fit into Uncle Gord’s clothes. All I needed to do was find dark clothes.

  Then I would be ready to hunt the hunter.

  chapter twenty-four

  I reached the docks just before sunset. I had on a dark summer jacket and a pair of dark track pants.

  I stood still and looked around. The smell of salt water filled the air. Pelicans stood on the dock posts. There were dozens of boats tied to the long dock. A lot of people were walking around. None of them were Judd or Uncle Gord or his friends from Miami.

  Past the docks, the sun had almost dropped to the place where ocean met sky.It was orange, a postcard kind of sunset. In less than half an hour, most of the light would be gone.

  I already knew where I would wait and watch. I carried a gym bag in one hand. I had a fishing pole in my other hand. I had a ballcap pulled low over my eyes. I was going to sit at the end of the dock, where I could keep an eye on the GypSea.

  It was the fourth boat down, bobbing in the wake of passing boats.

  I walked onto the dock. The GypSea was empty as I passed it. Fifty yards down, I reached the end of the dock. I sat and dropped a fishing line into the water. I held the fishing pole as if I was waiting for a fish to take the bait. With a slight turn of my head, I kept an eye on the GypSea. Most of my face was hidden by my ballcap.

  Ten minutes later, Judd Warner walked onto the dock.

  I ducked my head down even more. I didn’t think he would give me a second look, not if he was worried about getting onto Uncle Gord’s boat.

  He hopped onto the GypSea as if he owned it. A second later, he had moved into the front of the boat. It was a big boat. There were a lot of places he could hide. A few seconds later, he was out of sight.

  My heart began to race. I had guessed right!

  I waited a few more minutes. Once Judd was hidden, he wouldn’t be able to see me get on the boat. As I waited, I went over my plan again. At this point, I could change my mind. I could wait for Uncle Gord and his friends to get to the boat. I could tell them about Judd. They could find him.

  But then they would never know what he really meant to do. No, I told myself, the best way was to wait to see what Judd wanted. I would stick to my plan.

  I stood and picked up the gym bag. I walked down to the GypSea. Front to back, it was sixty feet long. More than twenty good-sized steps. It had a couple of cabins beneath the top deck. Judd was hiding in there somewhere.

  I stepped onto the boat as lightly as I could. I didn’t want him to hear me or feel the boat rock.

  The sun had dropped out of sight, and the last rays of light made long shadows on the deck. I knew of a place where no one would see me when it was light out. It would be that much safer at night. I tiptoed to my hiding spot.

  It was a wide upright locker where we stored wet suits that we rented to divers. I pulled it open, moved inside and pushed myself among the wet suits. They smelled of salt water.

  There was just enough room inside for me to set my gym bag at my feet. I reached out for the door and closed it almost all the way, leaving a few inches to give me a crack to see out.

  Then I reached down to my gym bag again. I pulled out a speargun.

  After all, Judd had a pistol. I needed to be armed too.

  chapter twenty-five

  At nine o’clock, it was completely dark. I heard voices as Uncle Gord and his friends stepped onto the boat. I heard clanking as they set down their scuba tanks and the rest of their gear.

  I didn’t need to see them to know what they looked like. I had seen them a couple of other times. All three looked like football players. They had short hair and square faces. I remembered seeing themand thinki
ng lawyers like that would be good for scaring judges.

  I wasn’t worried that they might open the locker I was hiding in. They wouldn’t need any of the rental wet suits. All of them had their own wet suits. People who dive a lot don’t like using rental wet suits. Why? It sounds gross, but there are no toilets underwater. Sometimes divers have to go so bad, they go in their wet suits and let the water wash it away.

  The four of them moved around the boat. They didn’t talk much. There were other sounds: the slapping of water against the boat; laughter from parties on other boats. But on Uncle Gord’s boat, all I could hear was my own breathing.

  Then I heard Uncle Gord’s footsteps as he walked to the controls. He started the engine blowers. Boat engines are beneath the deck. Air doesn’t move much under there. If there are any gasoline fumes around the engines, the fumes could explode when the engines start.A blower fans the old air out to make it safe.

  A few minutes later, Uncle Gord started both engines. They roared as he gave them gas. Once they were warm, he let them drop to a steady chug. He yelled out instructions to the three guys to untie the ropes that held the boat to the dock.

  Then he backed the boat from the dock. He turned it and slowly pulled out of the marina. The boat rocked a little in the smooth water.

  It took a few minutes to get to open water. Finally, he was able to give the engines some gas and take the boat to full speed. It bounced harder against the waves. The wet suits slapped me as the boat moved up and down.

  Uncle Gord ran the engines hard for another twenty minutes. Then he shut them down, and the boat slowed to a stop.

  I heard clanking. Uncle Gord had hit the switch to drop the anchor. There wasa small motor that unwound the anchor chain. The motor whined, and the chain clanked as the anchor fell through the water. I counted the seconds. When the clanking stopped, I guessed we were in about eighty feet of water.

  Through the crack of the open door, I saw the beams of flashlights as they got their equipment ready. I wondered why Uncle Gord didn’t turn on any lights to help them.

  Then I noticed I didn’t see any of the small running lights that were supposed to let other boaters know where we were. In a way, it was unsafe. But in another way, no problem. As long as they were alert to the lights of other craft on the water, they could stay invisible and avoid a collision.