It wasn’t just the sun on a ripple. It was something metallic. And it wasn’t quite red. More of a dark reddish purple. Definitely a strange color for the Gulf.
Soda can? I couldn’t tell. But whatever it was, it was about to float right by. I stood up and meticulously shimmied down the rocks until I was as close to the water as I could get without falling in. I crouched low and reached, but the object bobbed still out of reach and it threatened to drift away. I clambered back up the rocks and cast about, searching for something useful.
In the water a few yards closer to shore, was a piece of driftwood. It didn’t look long enough, but it was all I had. I grabbed it, ran back, and stretched.
My first couple of swipes were short. The driftwood plopped into the water, but hit nothing. I moved over a bit, put one foot on the submerged edge of a stone and tried again. I tapped the thing once. It was rectangular and solid. Not a can. But it was still just out of reach.
If it floated any farther away, I’d have to jump into the water. And I really— really —didn’t want to do that. I glanced over my shoulder. About twenty yards back, a teenager sat on the edge of the rocks and smoked a cigarette. I thought maybe I could throw him into the water to fetch the item I wanted. It was a clear win-win. I get what I need, and put out the cigarette too.
But my next attempt with the driftwood hit the top of the object. It came a few inches closer. That was all I needed. A few tip-taps later and I chucked the driftwood away and grabbed the object with my bare hand. Some kind of electronic device, I thought. It had a screen—maybe a little handheld computer or a big MP3 player. But I was holding it backward and upside down. There was a lens and a viewfinder. Digital camera. Duh.
Vizica, not high-end, but not disposable either. I pressed the power button. Nothing happened. Probably ruined, I thought. Saltwater and electronics don’t usually mix well.
Still, it felt like I had what I had come for…and I was hungry, so I left the beach.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
I needed cash, so I found a Junior Food Store that had an ATM. I went behind the building, sat in some shade, and placed my suitcase flat upon the ground. I placed my left hand on the back left corner of the case and my right hand on the front right. I rippled my fingers on both hands in a well-practiced, rhythmic pattern and waited. There was a hiss of compressed air. The locking mechanism released, and the lid of the case came up about an inch.
Glancing both ways and convinced that no one was coming, I lifted the lid. My eyes met a whole host of tools. Some I had used before. Others looked new to me. There was a plain silver card in the slot nearest the handle. The silver card, I knew very well. I grabbed the card and closed the case.
In the store, I went to the ATM and put the card in the reader. My account opened up immediately. John Spector, total balance $1,614.00.
My portion.
I withdrew it all. My silver card let me empty the account. I knew I would need all of the money…to the dollar. And my first expense would be lunch.
The Junior Food cashier told me there was a little family owned pizza joint called Bambinos just around the corner. It looked quiet. Italian sounded good. I went in and sat down. A waitress came over. Maria, according to her name tag. Fifteen or sixteen, given the way she popped her gum while she chewed.
“What can I get for ya’, honey?” Cute Southern drawl. Probably called everybody, honey . Sweet kid.
“Water with three lemon wedges. And coffee. Definitely coffee.”
“You gonna eat?”
“I’m going to eat…a lot,” I said. “I just need to cool down for a bit with the water. Can you give me a minute?”
She seemed visibly relieved that I was going to order. Better tip that way, I guess. She was back in a hurry with the water, and she kept it filled for me while I waited
Soda can? I couldn’t tell. But whatever it was, it was about to float right by. I stood up and meticulously shimmied down the rocks until I was as close to the water as I could get without falling in. I crouched low and reached, but the object bobbed still out of reach and it threatened to drift away. I clambered back up the rocks and cast about, searching for something useful.
In the water a few yards closer to shore, was a piece of driftwood. It didn’t look long enough, but it was all I had. I grabbed it, ran back, and stretched.
My first couple of swipes were short. The driftwood plopped into the water, but hit nothing. I moved over a bit, put one foot on the submerged edge of a stone and tried again. I tapped the thing once. It was rectangular and solid. Not a can. But it was still just out of reach.
If it floated any farther away, I’d have to jump into the water. And I really— really —didn’t want to do that. I glanced over my shoulder. About twenty yards back, a teenager sat on the edge of the rocks and smoked a cigarette. I thought maybe I could throw him into the water to fetch the item I wanted. It was a clear win-win. I get what I need, and put out the cigarette too.
But my next attempt with the driftwood hit the top of the object. It came a few inches closer. That was all I needed. A few tip-taps later and I chucked the driftwood away and grabbed the object with my bare hand. Some kind of electronic device, I thought. It had a screen—maybe a little handheld computer or a big MP3 player. But I was holding it backward and upside down. There was a lens and a viewfinder. Digital camera. Duh.
Vizica, not high-end, but not disposable either. I pressed the power button. Nothing happened. Probably ruined, I thought. Saltwater and electronics don’t usually mix well.
Still, it felt like I had what I had come for…and I was hungry, so I left the beach.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
I needed cash, so I found a Junior Food Store that had an ATM. I went behind the building, sat in some shade, and placed my suitcase flat upon the ground. I placed my left hand on the back left corner of the case and my right hand on the front right. I rippled my fingers on both hands in a well-practiced, rhythmic pattern and waited. There was a hiss of compressed air. The locking mechanism released, and the lid of the case came up about an inch.
Glancing both ways and convinced that no one was coming, I lifted the lid. My eyes met a whole host of tools. Some I had used before. Others looked new to me. There was a plain silver card in the slot nearest the handle. The silver card, I knew very well. I grabbed the card and closed the case.
In the store, I went to the ATM and put the card in the reader. My account opened up immediately. John Spector, total balance $1,614.00.
My portion.
I withdrew it all. My silver card let me empty the account. I knew I would need all of the money…to the dollar. And my first expense would be lunch.
The Junior Food cashier told me there was a little family owned pizza joint called Bambinos just around the corner. It looked quiet. Italian sounded good. I went in and sat down. A waitress came over. Maria, according to her name tag. Fifteen or sixteen, given the way she popped her gum while she chewed.
“What can I get for ya’, honey?” Cute Southern drawl. Probably called everybody, honey . Sweet kid.
“Water with three lemon wedges. And coffee. Definitely coffee.”
“You gonna eat?”
“I’m going to eat…a lot,” I said. “I just need to cool down for a bit with the water. Can you give me a minute?”
She seemed visibly relieved that I was going to order. Better tip that way, I guess. She was back in a hurry with the water, and she kept it filled for me while I waited
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