Mango Key

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Mango Key Page 8

by Bill H Myers


  “Kat, you're right. You did a good thing rescuing that little puppy. You probably saved its life. But now what? What are we going to do with it?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  The puppy was wearing a collar. Bright red, made of leather, with a small, silver buckle. It looked expensive. On the back was a silver ID tag. Kat rubbed the tag with her fingers, trying to clear the dirt off so she could read the writing.

  “Give me your phone,” she said.

  “My phone? Why do you need my phone?”

  “Because there's a number here and I want to call it. I don't want to use my phone.”

  I pulled out my phone and held it in my open hand for her to take. She shook her head. “I'm holding the puppy. You have to call.”

  She read the number out and I dialed. A man answered on the third ring.

  “Jimbo's. This is Jim.”

  I moved the phone over to Kat so she could do the talking, but again she shook her head. She pointed at me. She wanted me to talk.

  “Jimbo's, this is Jim. Anyone there?”

  I put the phone in speaker mode. “Hi Jim. We're in Key West and just found a puppy that has your phone number on the collar.”

  Before I could say anything else, he interrupted me. “Is he alive? Tell me he's alive.”

  “Yes, he's alive. A little scared, but otherwise he seems okay.”

  “Thank God. My wife has been going crazy ever since little Raylan disappeared. I think she loves that dog more than she loves me. You say you're in Key West?”

  “Yeah, we're in Key West. Where are you?”

  “Marathon. At Jimbo's Restaurant. We're offering a five hundred dollar reward. It's yours if you bring him up here.”

  I pressed mute and asked Kat, “What do you think?”

  She didn't hesitate with her answer. “Tell him we'll be there in an hour.”

  I unmuted the phone. “We'll bring him. Where do you want to meet?”

  “Jimbo's. You know where it is?”

  Kat nodded. She knew.

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. How soon can you get here?”

  Kat, who had been keeping quiet, spoke up, “We'll be there in about an hour.”

  I ended the call and looked at the time. Ten after five. If it took us an hour to get to Jimbo's and an hour to get back, it'd be a little after seven. Lori had said I needed to be back before then and she'd told me not to be late.

  I explained it to Kat.

  She didn't care. “So John Boy, what's more important—getting this poor little puppy back to his people or being a few minutes late for dinner?

  “If it were your dog, what would you want the people who found him to do?”

  I knew the answer. If it were my dog, I'd want him back right away. I wouldn't care who was late for dinner.

  That meant we were going to Marathon and Lori was going to be upset with me when I was late getting back.

  When traffic cleared, I pulled the Prius across the two southbound lanes of US1 and headed north, back the way we'd come. I was tempted to call Lori and let her know I was going to be late but decided to wait until I knew how late I'd be.

  The drive to Marathon was uneventful. Four-lane divided highway for the first few miles. Speed limit fifty five. Then down to two lanes, speed limit fifty and no passing. Going through the small towns the speed limit dropped to thirty-five.

  Traffic moved steadily, but with slow speed zones on each key, it was going to take more than an hour to reach Marathon. As I drove, I watched the clock as the minutes ticked off, calculating in my head how late I was going to be.

  It looked like I was going to be real late and Lori wasn't going to be happy about it.

  But Kat and I were on a mission. We needed to get the little puppy back to his people. I looked over at her as she cradled the little dog in her arms. She was smiling, telling him what a brave puppy he was.

  “So what kind of dog you think he is?” I asked.

  She lifted the puppy so I could see it better. “He looks like a Maltese. Maybe three months old. Cute and loveable. If he was from a breeder, he was expensive. More than a thousand for a puppy like this.”

  I was in shock. “A thousand dollars? For a dog? That's crazy. No wonder they're offering a reward.”

  Kat nuzzled the puppy. “This little guy is worth every penny of that. If he were mine, I'd never let him out of my sight.”

  She continued to coo and cuddle the puppy the rest of the trip, pretty much ignoring me. I wasn't bothered. I had other things on my mind. Like how I was going to tell Lori I was going to be late.

  We'd been on the road for almost an hour when we reached big Pine Key. Just beyond, the Seven Mile Bridge would cross open water and take us into Marathon. As we reached the bridge, the puppy started to cry. Kat tried to calm him down, but he was insistent. He was squirming and whining, trying to get out of her arms.

  She held him tight and said, “Don't worry, little puppy, we're almost home. You don't have to cry.”

  As it turned out, he wasn't crying because he wanted to go home. He was crying because he needed to pee. He'd held it as long as he could and tried to get down on the floor, but Kat wouldn't let him.

  She felt the wetness, looked down at her shirt and said, “He just peed on me.”

  Now, most women I've known would have been pretty upset about having a puppy pee on them. But Kat wasn't. She put the puppy down on the floor mat and said, “You go ahead and finish your business down there. Are you going to poop too?”

  Little Raylan didn't answer. He just peed. When it looked like he was finished, Kat picked him up and petted him. “I know, you tried to warn me but I didn't listen. It's not your fault, little Raylan.”

  She'd remembered the puppy's name. Jim had called him little Raylan. And now she was calling him that too.

  Looking over and seeing the pee spot on her shirt, I asked, “You want me to pull over when we get off the bridge?”

  She shook her head. “No, it's too late for that. Might as well keep going. We're almost there anyway. About three miles ahead, you'll see Jimbo's on the left.”

  Coming off the bridge it was two lanes and stayed that way until we got about a mile into Marathon. When the road widened into four lanes, I moved into the left lane and looked for Jimbo's.

  About a half mile ahead, I saw the sign on the left. Big letters, Jimbo's. Below it, a short menu. Barbeque, fish tacos, pizza and beer. Pretty much everything a hungry visitor would want in the Keys.

  I pulled over into the turn lane and waited for southbound traffic to clear. Jimbo's looked to be a popular place. The parking lot was almost full and it looked like I might have to go behind the building to find an empty space. Traffic cleared and I pulled into the lot. Just as I did, a car near the front door backed out of its space and I quickly pulled the Prius into it.

  Almost immediately, a middle-aged man wearing a white apron came outside and headed in our direction. I got out of the car and walked over to him. “Jim?”

  “Yeah, you got Raylan?”

  I pointed over my shoulder. “He's in the car.”

  The man went over to the passenger side and opened the door.

  “Raylan, is that you?”

  When the puppy heard his name, his tail went into overdrive. He struggled to get out of Kat's arms and into Jim's. Not wanting to see little Raylan get hurt, Kat handed him over then she got out of the car.

  There was a big wet spot in the middle of her T-shirt, but Jim didn't notice. He was too busy with little Raylan, holding him close to his face, the little puppy licking away the tears that rolled down his cheeks.

  We watched the happy reunion, saying nothing. Diners inside who were sitting near the window watched as well. A grown man reunited with his tiny puppy. Everyone was happy.

  Realizing that he had an audience, Jim turned his attention back to us. “I can't thank you enough for bringing little Raylan back. Let's take him inside where he'll feel safe.”

  We f
ollowed him into the restaurant. The place was packed. Almost every table taken. Lively conversation and laughter filled the air, the smell of barbeque, pizza and beer added to the happy mix.

  Jim carried little Raylan as we walked through the dining area. People began to applaud. Apparently they knew little Raylan had been missing and were happy to see his safe return. Jim was all smiles as he moved through the crowd toward a set of double doors labeled “Staff Only”. Beyond those doors, we followed him down a hall to his office in the back.

  Inside, still holding little Raylan close to his chest, Jim sat down behind his desk. On the floor to his right was a small doggy bed with “Raylan” embroidered on the cushion. Beside it, a water bowl and food dish.

  Jim put little Raylan down on the floor, poured some kibble into the food dish, and watched as the puppy started to eat. Returning his attention to us, he said, “Please, have a seat.”

  I didn't want to sit. I wanted to get back in the Prius and head to Key West. I knew I was going to be late and Lori wasn't going to like it. But Kat didn't seem to care. There were two chairs in front of Jim's desk. She sat in one and pulled me down into the other.

  Jim smiled and opened the center drawer of his desk and pulled out a white envelope. He tapped it with his finger and slid over to us. “Five hundred dollars. The reward for bringing little Raylan back.”

  Kat didn't reach for the money. Instead she asked, “How did you lose him? How did little Raylan end up in Key West?”

  Jim shook his head. “I think one of the guys working in the kitchen took him. I caught him stealing tips and fired him. The next day, Raylan was gone.

  “I can't prove the guy took him. But it's the kind of thing he'd do.”

  Kat nodded. “You talk to the guy? Ask him about it?”

  “Tried to. But he's gone. According to his roommate, he left town. That's a problem in this business. Hard to find reliable help who'll show up on time and won't steal.”

  Jim pointed to the envelope. “Take the money, it's yours.”

  Kat stood. “We don't want your money. But if you have a clean T-shirt around here that'll fit me, I'll take it.”

  For the first time, Jim noticed the pee stain on Kat's T-shirt. “We've got plenty T-shirts. What size you want?”

  Kat smiled. “Small for me. Large for Walker.”

  He picked up his phone, punched in a number and said, “Lisa, bring me some T-shirts. Small and a large.”

  He ended the call and looked at Kat. “Raylan pee on you?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, but he warned me first. I should have listened. What kind of dog is he?”

  “Maltese. My wife always wanted one. When we saw this one go up for adoption, we had to have him.”

  There was a soft knock at the door. Jim looked up and waved a young woman in. She was carrying a stack of T-shirts. “I didn't know what color you wanted, so I brought an assortment.”

  She dropped the shirts on Jim's desk and started to leave. But then she saw the puppy. “You found him! You found my little Raylan!”

  She ran over to the dog, picked him up and kissed him on the head. She held him close, telling him what a brave little puppy he had been and how much she’d missed him. Little Raylan seemed to enjoy the attention.

  Jim watched as she cuddled the puppy. He turned to us. “This is my daughter, Lisa. As you can probably tell, she missed little Raylan.”

  He touched her arm. “Lisa, these are the people who rescued him. I'd introduce you, but I don't know their names.”

  I smiled. “I'm Walker and this is Kat.”

  I stood to leave, but Kat wasn't quite ready. She thumbed through the stack of T-shirts and picked out a white one. “I'm going to the ladies’ room to change. I'll be right back. Walker, don't go anywhere.”

  As soon as Kat was out of sight, Jimbo tapped the white envelope again. “Take the money. It's yours.”

  I shook my head. “No. You keep it.”

  He looked at me and said, “Are you sure? We offered the reward in good faith. Happy to pay it. It's worth every penny to have little Raylan back.”

  I shook my head. “I appreciate the offer, but we're not taking a reward for bringing a dog back.”

  Jim looked puzzled. Apparently he wasn't used to people turning down money. So he offered something else. “How about a free meal then? Any time you want; anything on the menu. Bring as many people as you like.”

  He pulled out a business card and wrote something on the back. “Take my card. If you come in for a meal, just show this. If you ever need anything else, call me. I owe you big time.”

  I was putting the card in my wallet when Kat walked back in. She was wearing a white T-shirt with a small Jimbo's logo over the pocket. The T-shirt looked good on her. The tight fit accentuated her girly parts. She smiled, like she knew what I was thinking.

  Rather than confirm her thoughts, I said, “We need to go.”

  She nodded. “You're right. You've got people waiting for you.”

  Jim stood, shook our hands and thanked us again for bringing Raylan back. As we were leaving he said, “Remember what I said. If you ever need anything, call me.”

  Leaving Jim and Raylan behind, we headed out to the car. As soon as we stepped outside, Kat asked, “Did you take the reward money?”

  “No. Why do you ask?”

  “I saw you putting something in your wallet.”

  I opened my wallet and showed her Jim's card. “He said to call if we ever needed anything. You want it?”

  “No. You keep it. But you didn't you take the money? Why not?”

  “I didn't think it was right. The man lost his dog. It's not right to make him pay to get it back.”

  Kat nodded but didn't say anything.

  Back in the car she pointed at the digital clock on the dash. “Six thirty. Looks like we need to hurry.”

  Hurrying wasn't going to do us any good. It was going to take more than an hour to get back. I was going to be late and Lori wasn't going to like it. I started the car and headed south, back toward Key West.

  Chapter Twenty

  “I need to call and let Lori know I'm going to be late. She said to be back by seven and there's no way I'm going to make it.”

  I pulled out my phone to make the call, but Kat stopped me. “Give me your phone.”

  “Why?”

  “Just give it to me.”

  I handed it to her and she put it in her lap.

  “Walker, you just drive and I'll see what I can do about you being late.”

  She pulled out her own phone and started texting. I couldn't tell what she was typing, but it seemed like a long message. She sent it off then picked up my phone, punched in a number and pressed “Call”. Five seconds later, her phone rang. She didn't bother to answer. Instead, she handed my phone back to me.

  I asked her about it. “You called your phone from mine?”

  “Yeah. Now you have my number on your phone and I have yours. Might come in handy one of these days.”

  I decided it was time to call Lori. Let her know I was going to be late. I looked down at my phone to find her number. Kat stopped me.

  “Who you going to call?”

  “Lori. I need to let her know I'm going to be late.”

  Kat grabbed my phone and held it away from me. “It's not safe to use your phone while driving. Might be better to just wait and see if she calls you.”

  That sounded like a good idea to me. The longer I could wait before I had to talk to her the better.

  Five minutes later, my phone rang. I turned to Kat. “You going to give it to me so I can answer?”

  She shook her head. “No, I'm not. We're going to let it go to voice mail. See what she has to say.”

  “It's a she? It's Lori?”

  “That's what the caller ID says. So yeah, it's her. We'll let it go to voice mail.”

  The ringing ended and a few moments later a tone announced a new voice mail. Even though I didn't want to talk to Lori, I was curi
ous as to what she had to say.

  “You going to play the message for me?”

  Kat put the phone in speaker mode and hit “Play”.

  “Walker, this is Lori. Our dinner plans have changed. We've been upgraded. You don't need to get back until eight. Hope you are having fun. Talk to you later.”

  The call ended. Lori sounded cheerful, which was strange. She should have been upset. But she wasn't. She sounded happy. Something about our dinner plans being 'upgraded'.

  I figured the text message Kat had sent was somehow responsible. I asked her about it.

  “Kat, what’d you do?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean. The dinner plans, the upgrade. What'd you do?”

  She smiled. “Nothing much. Just called in a favor.”

  “Well, whoever you called took care of things. I guess I owe you one.”

  She nodded. “Yes you do. I'm sure you'll get a chance to pay me back before you leave town. But right now, just take me home.”

  We drove south until we hit Key West city limits. As before, Kat had me stay on US 1 and follow it onto Palm Avenue. Palm turned into Eaton Street, and four blocks later, Kat had me turn left on Elizabeth.

  “At the next corner, let me out.”

  When we reached the corner, I pulled over in front of a large, two-story Key West style house. Porches all around, white picket fence in front. The largest home on the block, it looked like it covered several lots. I was impressed.

  Kat didn't get out. She looked at me and asked, “You know how to get back to the campground?”

  “Not really.”

  “It's easy. Just stay on Elizabeth until you come to Truman. Turn left and it'll take you all the way back to Stock Island. First road to your right takes you the campground.”

  She reached for the door then turned back to me. “I'm going to call you tomorrow. Be sure to answer. And forget about being called John Boy. I think I like Walker better.”

  She got out of the car and walked away. I watched as she made her way through the wrought iron gate in front of the house then entered the grounds and disappeared inside.

  Chapter Twenty-One

 

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