Carl Hiaasen - Flush

Bull said, “I think I'm gonna hurl .”

Abbey chomped down harder, and the noise that came out of Bull didn't sound human.

Jasper jumped me again and put me in a headlock. “Now listen, you little brat,” he snapped at my sister. “We're gonna do this my way. I'll break your brother's neck, you don't spit out Bull's ear by the count of three.”

There was no response from Abbey, but now I saw true fear in her eyes. My face must have looked like a tomato about to explode, as hard as Jasper Jr. was clinching down on me. I couldn't tell my sister what to do next because I couldn't squeak out a word.

“One,” said Jasper Jr.

Abbey hung on.

“Two…”

Abbey wasn't budging.

“Two!” Jasper Jr. barked again.

I tried to wriggle free, but it was no use. Jasper Jr.'s forearm was locked tight against my throat, and it hurt to breathe. Everything in front of me started getting fuzzy and dark, and I figured I was about to pass out.

The next words I heard were: “Try two and a half, shorty.”

The voice sounded too old and gravelly to be Jasper Jr., but I just assumed that my hearing was messed up because he'd squeezed all the oxygen out of my brain.

“Let him go!” the voice said again, and it clearly wasn't speaking to Abbey. It was speaking to Jasper Jr.

Who, to my complete surprise, immediately let me go. I fell to the ground and stayed on all fours until I caught my breath.

“You all right, Noah?”

I lifted my eyes in bewilderment. The voice belonged to a lanky, long-armed man with woolly, silvery hair. A gleaming gold coin hung from a tarnished chain around his neck. His craggy face looked like a mahogany stump, and on one tanned cheek was a scar in the shape of an M.

Anybody could see that the guy was old-and tough. Shirtless and barefoot, he leaned casually against the trunk of a tall pine. His weather-beaten cutoffs had been bleached gray by the sun, and a dirty red bandanna was knotted around his right wrist. The curly hair on his bare chest was as shiny as the hair on his head.

Jasper Jr. wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he knew that the stranger meant business.

“We was only jokin' around,” he said timidly.

“That right?” The old pirate smiled in a way that caused Jasper Jr. to go pale. Bull whimpered like a puppy but said nothing.

The stranger turned to my sister. “Now it's your turn, Abbey. How 'bout you let loose of that boy?”

My sister's eyes got wide at the sound of her name. She released her grip on Bull's ear, stepped back, and began spitting vigorously into the bushes. Bull straightened up and pressed a fist to his throbbing ear, trying to stanch the invisible bleeding.

“Who are you?” I asked the old man. “How'd you know our names?”

He brushed past me and went up to Jasper Jr., who looked like he desperately needed a bathroom.

“You ever bother these two kids again,” the old man warned him, “and you'll dearly regret it. Comprende? ”

Jasper Jr. nodded shakily.

Bull was actually an inch or so taller than the pirate, but it didn't help him. The guy walked over and got square in his face. “Pretty summer day, you can't think of anything better to do than hassle some helpless little girl? That's flat-out pathetic, son.”

“Helpless? She nearly took my ear!”

“I'd say you got off lucky,” the stranger said with a smile.

He winked at Abbey and me, and jerked a thumb over one shoulder. “Y'all run on home. Hurry up, now.”

“Who are you?” my sister asked.

“Nobody. And that's the truth.”

He wasn't kidding around.

“Now get goin', both of you,” he said. “Me and the boys are gonna finish our chat.”

Abbey and I quickly retrieved our bicycles and took off. As soon as we were out of the trees, we started pedaling for home as fast as we could.

“You ever seen that guy before?” Abbey asked breathlessly.

“I don't think so.”

“Then how'd he know who we were? Has he been spying on us or something? He looked kind of dangerous, Noah, you think he's dangerous?”

“Abbey, I honestly don't know.”

Maybe I should have been creeped out by the strange old pirate, but I wasn't. For some reason I believed everything he'd said in the woods.

Except the part about him being nobody.

It was an hour before dark when we got out to the islands called the Cowpens. They got the name because Indians supposedly kept sea cows penned up there a long time ago.

Dad tossed the anchor into a deep hole about two hundred yards from the main channel. The Tropical Rescue towboat was much bigger than Dad's bonefish skiff, so there was plenty of room for Mom to ride along. She'd said yes, too, which was a nice surprise. She sat on the bow with her back to the sun and snapped pictures of us fishing.

Right away I got a couple of decent mangrove snappers, and Dad caught a fat keeper grouper. My sister reeled in a puffer fish that blew itself up into a spiny balloon-she said it looked just like her fourth-grade teacher.

Of course, Abbey and I didn't mention what had happened that afternoon on the way home from Shelly's trailer. Dad would have taken off after Jasper Jr., and Mom would have gone to the police to tell them about the strange old man.

Besides, my father liked things quiet and peaceful when he was out on the water. He didn't go for too much talking. He said it was disrespectful to nature.

After a while we put away our fishing rods and sat down to wait for the sunset. The sky to the west was mostly clear, except for a few wispy clouds and the long foamy contrail from a big military jet. Dad took a seat up front next to Mom, who handed the camera to Abbey. I dangled my legs off the starboard gunwale, where RESCUE was painted in bright orange lettering.

A flock of pelicans floated over us in the shape of a V and kept on flying, straight toward the great Gulf of Mexico. A light breeze was blowing from the southeast, rocking the boat just enough to make us a little drowsy. Abbey nudged me and cut her eyes toward our parents, who were actually holding hands.

Everything felt so good and so right, I had this feeling that we'd finally get to see the green flash. The evening was perfect for it.

Gradually the sun changed from gold to blazing pink and seemed to turn liquid as it dimpled the horizon. None of us said a word because we didn't want the moment to end.

People who've never seen a sunset at sea would be blown away. Time seems to slow down until finally that huge blazing ball looks like it's just hanging there, balanced on the far edge of the earth. In reality, though, it's dropping fast.

As the last rosy crescent melted into the Gulf, I felt myself leaning forward, squinting hopefully at the skyline.

Then the sun was gone, leaving a pale lemon emptiness. I glanced over at Abbey, who was putting the camera away. She smiled and shrugged.

“Wow, that was gorgeous,” my mother whispered.

“Yeah,” said Abbey, “but no green flash.”

“Maybe next time,” my father said, as he always did.

I turned my gaze back to the horizon and held it there, even as the rim of pink faded to darkness. I heard Dad hauling in the anchor and Mom zipping her windbreaker and Abbey asking if she could steer back to the dock, but still I couldn't take my eyes off the sky.

Fifty-seven dollars and sixteen cents.

That's all Abbey and I could scrounge up-and fifty-one bucks of it was hers. I would've had more if I hadn't bought new skateboard trucks the first week of vacation.

“You think it's gonna buy enough?” Abbey asked on the way to the store.

“It'll have to,” I said.

I didn't know the exact size of the Coral Queen 's holding tank, but I guessed it carried a couple hundred gallons of waste. I also didn't know how much dye we could get for fifty-seven dollars and sixteen cents.