“Are you Nipper’s mother?” the officer asked as he helped her out of the boat.
“What? Yes. How do you know?” Peg looked at the officer’s badge.
Officer Bernard Smith.
“I’m Lulu’s dad. Randolph called me and told me you would be showing up here.” He put his arm around Peg. “Let’s get you home to your dog.”
Peg leaned against him as they walked. He opened the door to the back seat of the car and she got in.
“So I don’t have to go to jail?” Peg’s face was teary.
“No, ma’am.”
“Thank you. I’m Peg, by the way.”
“I know, ma’am. Peg from Chicago. Where it’s cold.”
“Yes.”
Text to Randolph
Hi. So sorry about almost going to jail. Hope that didn’t ruin your time catching lobsters. Did you get to cook them? Sorry again. Pls thank Bernard for me too.
Text from Randolph
No! I did not get to cook any lobsters! Pierre and I had to go to FWC office.
Text to Randolph
Sorry.
Text from Randolph
It took too long for Bernie to clear everything up. No lobster grilling.
Text from Peg
So sorry.
Text from Randolph (hours later)
Apology accepted.
Peg pictured him typing those words using only his middle fingers.
Friend in Need
Peg paced and glanced out of the NO EXIT sign on the glass door to the Key West airport tarmac. Sun peeked between the dark clouds of the squall. Puddles steamed on the runway as the ground attempted to cool itself to a solid.
“It’s so weird to be able to greet people at the gate. I miss this from the old days. Not many airports where you can see the plane land as you wait.” Peg chatted in the direction of the bartender setting up drinks at the bar located in front of the arrivals entrance. “The tourists are not going to miss the bar, that’s for sure.”
The bartender smiled and nodded. “I’m the Key West version of the gift shop in a museum. Gotta go through the bar or you can’t get out of the airport.” He put his hands on his hips and widened his stance.
Peg smiled at him. “Do you think that the plane will make it in with all of this crazy weather?” She pointed to the blackening sky.
“Sure they will. This is nothin’. The pilots are all navy trained. They like a little bit of wind shear.” The bartender took a quick look outside then added a few more cups to the counter before pouring generous amounts of tequila across the line of beverages.
“It looks so dark over the runway. Don’t they land from that direction?”
“You need this.” He held up the cup and the green liquid sloshed around. “Drink one and you’ll forget your worries. Drink two – you’ll forget your manners. Drink three – you’ll forget your spouse.” He pointed to the ring-less tan line around the fourth finger of his left hand.
Peg blushed then paled.
I wonder how many of these Clark drank before flying to Cuba?
“No… I’m fine.” She chewed the skin on the outside of her pinky nail. “I’m just excited to see my friend who’s coming from Chicago. I haven’t seen her in months. I really need her to get here. She’s my best friend. This kind of weather would have shut down O’Hare. I mean, they’re pretty good in the winter with the snow and ice, but they’re very cautious with lightning and wind. There was that terrible plane crash back in the–”
“It’s on the house.” He came around the bar and shoved the drink into Peg’s hand. “Take a big sip.”
Outside the window a black cloud engulfed the airport. Rain pelted the door. Peg took a swig. The lime medicine coated her throat and nerves.
This shouldn’t taste this good.
A dim hum could be heard, a sputtering plane engine sound interspersed with thunder. Peg stood on tiptoes and craned her neck to see the plane emerge as a blurry vision through the window waterfall. The propellers whirred with 70 years of muscle memory, guiding the plane off the airstrip to the middle of the tarmac. The pilot cut the engines 100 yards away from the entrance. Water careened off of the welcome-mannequins’ backs as they braved the elements.
“She’s here.” Peg beamed.
The bartender whoo-whooed. “Yessss.”
The poncho’d maintenance workers wheeled the metal stairs to the airplane door. Rain poured while lightning bolted and the airplane door opened.
“Is this safe? I mean… a metal stairway and lightning? The people are going to get soaked, if they don’t die first.” Peg’s voice pitched higher as she spoke. “They’re pretty far away. Don’t they wait to let the people off till it stops raining?”
The bartender gave her a look, then motioned with a “take a drink” hand.
Eyes glued to the door, Peg complied.
The passengers exited the plane to a torrent of rain, feet slipping on the steps as they descended. Purses, computer bags and newspapers held overhead in a struggle to defend themselves against a very wet and angry Mother Nature. One by one they ran into the terminal, leaving no bit of clothing or free-carry-on undrenched. Peg scrutinized each of the running passengers, searching for the familiar horn-rimmed glasses and spiky hair.
She heard her before she could see her.
“Fucking fuckity fuck fucker.” Trudy ran through the door. The wheels of her bedraggled carry-on suitcase flung water behind her. Squinting, she held her dripping, foggy glasses by the frame and, with a Labrador head-shake, she stomped past the electronic doors, into the meet and greet area.
“You’re HERE. With ME.” Peg ambushed her unsuspecting wet friend. She picked Trudy up and twirled her with such force that Trudy’s glasses hurled out of her hand and flung over the crowd, skimming across the bar.
Trudy continued her rant. “I’ve never seen rain like that before. The SOBs don’t even give you an umbrella. What kind of a miserable–”
Peg embraced her wet buddy. “You made it. You’re soaked.” She held her at arm’s length. “Let me look at you. It’s really you. Hey, where are your glasses?”
Trudy screwed up her eyes. “Most likely being worn by a passing fish, my God, that’s a lot of water.” She returned the hug.
The bartender hooted his greeting. “Welcome, best friend who we’ve been so worried about.” He held up Trudy’s specs in one hand and a cup of green liquid in the other. “Glasses,” he presented both to Trudy, “are my specialty.”
Peg took her cup from the counter. “I’m already half-finished with mine.”
“I love this guy.” Trudy placed the glasses on her nose. She winked at the bartender as she chugged the entire contents in one giant gulp. “Two more for the road, my good man.” Trudy took out her purse and put down three soggy twenty-dollar bills. She handed a pre-made drink from the line-up to Peg and kept one for herself. “Let’s go. I can’t wait to see Nipper.”
Peg and Trudy left the airport, their drinking arms linked. “Jeez, that was a quick storm. It couldn’ta waited 15 minutes for us to get out of the plane.” Trudy pointed to the sun peeking out through ominous clouds, her glasses fogged as they exited the air conditioning.
“Ha, get used to that.” Peg chuckled. “Oh, and watch out for the chickens.” She shooed away a rooster who stood his ground next to the curb. “They’re everywhere and definitely follow the motto It’s five am somewhere. Ha, I read that on a tee shirt. That’s the nicest thing I’ve ever read on a tee shirt in Key West, believe me. There’s this one with a stick figure kneeling behind another one… can’t un-see that.” Peg snuggled her friend. “Oh, I can’t believe you’re really here.” She wrapped her arm around Trudy’s shoulders.
“What kind of an original Wright brothers’ plane did I come in on? For real, the propellers started and stopped in midair, diving, bobbing and weaving.” Trudy rolled her head from side to side. “The guy next to me turned the color of this drink.” Trudy raised the cup to her mouth as she
walked. “My God, it’s hell-hot here.” She swilled the beverage.
“I know. People say you get used to it. I do have a rash that has acclimated nicely.” She scratched under her right breast.
“I can see how yeasts would thrive.” Trudy wiped her cheek with her wet sleeve. “Where’s the car?”
“I had to take a taxi to the airport. I have a flat tire and haven’t fixed it yet. I think the rubber melted into the street. Clark usually handles the car stuff.”
“Asshole.”
Peg changed the subject. “It’s okay though, I don’t need the car. It’s easy to walk everywhere. I could’ve walked to the airport but the storm freaked me out.”
Trudy held on to her baseball cap in the wind. “You’re not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.”
They jumped into a cab. “Cheers.” Peg thudded her cup to Trudy’s and they downed the liquid.
The angry sky blackened on the horizon as another squall gained strength. But over the cab, the sun’s rays beamed in the patchy blue sky. The taxi careened through a considerable amount of standing water on the streets, splashing cursing tourists who crossed the road to the beach.
“Sorry, mon,” the taxi driver yelled out the window. “Too much rain. Can’t be elped.”
Trudy closed her window to avoid a re-soaking. “Shit.”
Peg laughed. “I know, the island’s made of coral. The water takes a while to soak back into the ground after these big rains.”
“Man, if it looks like this after a short rainstorm, I can’t imagine what it’d look like after a hurricane.”
Argh. Hurricanes. Don’t think about the grotto… not your fault… it’s Africa’s fault…
“Here we are. Home sweet home.” The cab stopped next to the gate. Nipper heard the sound of the gravel as the cab pulled up. He barked wildly.
“Where’s my baby? My good boy?” Trudy called out to the dog. Peg opened the gate and went back to the taxi to pay and grab the suitcase. The dog jumped at the glass door until Trudy burst in, and then he power-bounded into her stomach. “Ugh. Okay. Okay. I know. You must smell your old buddy Tucker. He wishes he could be here instead of with the stoner next-door neighbor kid.” She knelt down laughing while the dog licked her face. “Tucker loves that kid though. I’ll text him to see how they’re doing. Probably getting high together.”
“I wish you could’ve brought Tucker too. Can you tell that Nipper and I missed you?” Peg joined in the human/canine melee. The inside air felt cool and moist. Condensation obscured the windows. “She’s here, Nipper. It’s real. I can’t believe that you’re really HERE.” Peg lifted Trudy off of the floor and the dog wiggled and waggled in-between their legs.
“I can’t believe that you really LIVE here.” Trudy took in the surroundings. “Two questions. One. Where is your dryer so that I can peel off these soaking clothes? Two. Where is the liquor in this tiny house?”
Peg beamed. “I’m so happy that you’re here. Okay. First answer, the dryer is in the closet behind you. I know, it’s in the kitchen, but I’m lucky to be able to do laundry inside the house. Most people go to the laundromat or do their washing outside.”
“Jesus, it’s the 21st century, people.” Trudy opened a closet door and gave Peg a quizzical look. The closet shelves were lined with canned goods and bottles, each with its own specific label.
“Not that one, the one next to it.”
Trudy held up a can.
“I know, I know.” Peg scrunched her face.
“The tomato soup has a label on it that says Tomato Soup. Is everything in alphabetical order?”
“I got a new label maker… it’s been a long month… and it’s an addiction… honestly, I couldn’t stop.”
“No label making for you this week. We’re two women on the town.” Trudy placed the can back next to the clearly marked Tortilla Soup.
Peg whooped and opened the fridge, “Second answer is champagne is chillin’.” She presented the green bottle. “Voilà.”
“Learning French for any particular reason?”
“Shut up. I’m not looking for another man. And even if I was, the Canadian has a sea nymph for a girlfriend. I mean it. The real thing. Fins and gills. With giant boobs. And, I haven’t spoken to him since the… you know. Manatee situation.” Peg’s voice went to a whisper and she looked around.
Trudy smiled and held up her bubbling champagne glass. “Cheers, a perfect way to prepare for an evening of drinking. Maybe after we drink this, you can teach me how to ride a manatee.” Trudy thrust her pelvis back and forth.
Peg held her fingers to her lips. “Shut up, it’s serious. I could have gone to jail.” She swung at her friend and giggled. “Ooo, this stuff is good, do you want to stay in or go out?”
“Let’s go out. Lady I work with said that I gotta go to Duval Street. Something about Captain Tony’s, and a Green Parrot.”
“Yay! A Duval crawl. I haven’t done that yet. Seemed weird to do it by myself.” She turned to Trudy, “Why don’t you move here? We can do everything together. Just quit your job and move to Key West,” she pleaded with prayer hands.
“What about if Clark comes back? I’ll have to make good on my promise to kill him. Then I’d go to jail and I don’t think that your Fish and Wildlife officer would be able to get me out of that one.” Trudy poured herself another libation.
“So, you are considering it then?” Peg’s nose snorted a laugh.
“We’ll see. We have a week to drink it… I mean think it over.” Trudy cheers-ed the air.
“I’m so happy now that you’re here.” Peg wheeled the suitcase into the spare bedroom. “I’ll give Nipper a walk and you change your clothes. Wear something cool, and I don’t mean fashionable. Prepare to sweat. We’ll walk to our crawl.” Peg jingled the leash. “C’mere, Nipper.”
“Whooo… paaarrrttaaayy.” Trudy performed a combination of the hustle and the jig down the hall, drink sloshing.
Peg and Nipper strode out into the warm gusts of wind – no rain, but blustery and hot. “Nipper, I’ll give you your special treats while Trudy and I are out tonight.” The dog perked up his ears when he heard the word treats then continued on to do his business in all of the regular spots along the walk.
They returned to find both Trudy and her beverage refreshed.
Waving goodbye to the contented dog, they closed the gate and turned down the street.
“How far are we walking?” Trudy surveyed the tumultuous sky.
“Everything is pretty clo–” Peg stopped talking and covered her mouth with her hand. She turned and covered Trudy’s mouth with her other hand.
“Mmmm, mmm.” Trudy peeled Peg’s hand off of her mouth.
“What on earth are you doing?”
“Cover your mouth,” Peg mumbled underneath her own fingers. “It’s dragonfly season.” A swarm of buzzing, winged insects flew helter-skelter around them.
One zinged into Trudy’s face. “Holy shit.” She covered her mouth.
“I don’t care how much protein they have. Take it from me. It’s an unwanted snack.” Peg talked into the palm of her hand until a blustery breeze carried the mob of black bugs down the street. “It’s okay. You can put your hand down. They’re gone, for now.”
Trudy did a 360-degree spin around to make sure that the coast was clear. A straggler whizzed by. Returning hand to mouth Trudy declared, “I need another drink.”
“Lots of bars and other stuff to see in Key West. The buoy that marks the Southernmost Point, tons of museums and galleries…” Peg’s voice was drowned out by the Ghosts and Graveyards bus tour coming from behind them on the street. Words like death, corpse and haints echoed out as the tour guide spoke.
Peg shivered.
…haints…
As if on cue, the bus passengers yelled in their direction, “You’re doomed.”
Amused, Trudy yelled back, “No. You’re doomed.”
Peg shushed Trudy. “I don’t think anyone should be joking around like th
at. I mean… I know that it’s not really true… that we’re doomed… but I don’t like to hear it anyway… cause if something bad does happen… then naturally I’ll think I am doomed and it might just be a coincidence… and…”
“Whoa there.” Trudy stopped short. “What are you talking about? You know it’s all a joke. Right?”
“I know. Of course. I know.” Peg took a deep breath.
“Who needs a drink now?” Trudy held her friend around the waist and pressed forward at a faster clip.
A voice sang out from a bicyclist across the street, “I do, ladies.” Wearing a thong with black fishnet stockings, turquoise bustier with matching top hat, he sat up stick straight in order to reach the Easy Rider handlebars. Before the women had a chance to respond, he tipped his top hat and disappeared into the next driveway.
“What the?” They giggled with faces close together.
“This is why I need you here… as a witness. No one would believe me.”
They re-linked sweaty elbows.
“How much longer? The wick-away in this shirt has up and left.” A gust of hot air almost knocked her over. “This is some wind.” Newspapers and garbage danced in whirlpools in the alleys.
“Gale force… ridiculously strong tonight.” Peg supported her friend’s back and pushed her forward. “Almost there.”
“Let’s start at Captain Tony’s. It used to be Sloppy Joe’s but now Sloppy Joe’s is there.” Peg pointed across the street to the open windows filled to overflow with tourists screaming along with the band, “Why don’t we get drunk and screw?”
“Jimmy Buffett is a god here,” Peg whispered.
“Right. Some god. Get drunk and get screwed buying all of his crap,” Trudy said too loud.
“Shhh. You’ll start a riot.”
“I mean, look at those people. All dressed the same with their hands in the air. Probably how Hitler got started.”
Island Life Sentence Page 13