Swamp Story: a Novel, page 7
“And then people will see this thing on the Internet, see you talking about it, and they’re gonna come here and buy shit? That’s your business plan?”
“Right. But not the shit we have here now. New shit. I already ordered T-shirts.”
Brad rubbed his face with both hands.
“Ken,” he said, “you remember the Gator Giveaway?”
“OK, that was a mistake, I admit it.”
“You didn’t think so at the time. I tried to tell you, but you were sure it was a killer idea. Give customers a live alligator for every purchase over twenty-five dollars. Remember how that worked out?”
“It might’ve worked out good, if some asshole didn’t call Fish and Wildlife.”
“Because it was illegal, Ken. Also, it was not a great idea to be giving people an eighty-pound gator to take home in their Dodge Caravan with their three kids and their Yorkshire terrier.”
“Well I ran out of the smaller gators.”
“It ate their dog, Ken. Which we had to pay for. A purebred dog. We were lucky they didn’t sue our asses off.”
“OKOK, I told you, that was a mistake. But this is different.”
“I agree,” said Brad. “This is different.”
Ken looked at him. “You mean that?”
“Yup. The Gator Giveaway was very stupid. But this, this Everglades… thing—”
“Melon Monster.”
“Whatever. This isn’t stupid.”
“It’s not?”
“No, Ken. It’s way, way past stupid. It can’t even see stupid from where it is. It’s the Super Bowl MVP of stupid ideas. We’re in serious trouble here, Ken. We’re dying. We can’t be pissing away our money on this bullshit when we got bills to pay.”
Brad reached for the stack of money.
Ken covered it with his hand. “No,” he said. “I’m doing this, Brad.”
“We’re gonna lose the store.”
“We’re gonna lose it anyway, the way it’s going.”
Brad had no answer for that.
“Listen,” said Ken. “I brought in this money. I’m the one out there hustling while you diddle on your phone.”
Brad had no answer for that, either.
The brothers were silent for a few moments.
“Look,” said Ken, “I know I fucked up a bunch of times before. And I know this idea sounds crazy.”
“It doesn’t just sound crazy, Ken. It is crazy. It is totally, one hundred percent, batshit crazy.”
Ken smiled. “OK, maybe it is. But we tried sane, Brad. Sane ain’t working for us anymore. It’s time to try crazy. That’s what we do out here.” He waved his arm at the store, and the Everglades in general. “People said Daddy and Uncle Canaan were crazy when they started this business in the first place.”
“They were crazy,” said Brad.
“I know! That’s my point. Crazy worked for them, putting on shows, talking bullshit to tourists, Daddy pretending Rex was this scary alligator about to bite his head off any second, showing the crowd his finger…”
Brad, now smiling despite himself, said, “Which he did to himself, trying to catch a moving semi.”
The brothers laughed together, remembering. After a moment Brad sighed and pointed at the money.
“OK,” he said. “You’re right. You earned it. Take it. We’re fucked anyway.”
“You mean it?”
“Yeah.”
“Thanks,” said Ken. “I really think this could actually—”
“Whatever,” said Brad, cutting him off. “Just make sure you keep enough to pay Pinky, OK? We do not need Pinky coming after us.”
“Right,” said Ken. “So, one more thing…”
Brad arched his eyebrows.
“Could you come with me?” said Ken. “To the video shoot?”
“Why? You don’t trust these people?”
“No, they’re OK. I just want to make sure they understand who’s in charge of this thing. This is a Bortle Brothers production.”
Brad laughed. “Seriously? We’re producers now?”
“Why not? We’re paying for it.”
“OK,” said Brad. “What the hell, I’ll go with you.” He shook his head, still smiling. “A Bortle Brothers production.”
“Sounds good, right?” said Ken.
“Sounds insane,” said Brad.
“Like I said,” said Ken, “sometimes insane is the way to go.”
Chapter 13
The Campbell brothers, high on adrenaline, ran hard along the path in the direction the woman had taken, Duck carrying the gold bar. The woman had a head start, but she was walking, and carrying a baby. They’d only been at the cabin for a few minutes; they figured they’d catch up to her quickly if they could follow the route she’d taken.
At one point the footpath was joined by a lesser-used path, coming in from the left. They hesitated, wondering if the woman had veered off here. They decided to keep going straight, on the more beaten path. When they reached the two-track dirt road, they knew they’d guessed right.
“There she is,” said Duck.
The woman was about fifty yards down the road, passing an old pickup parked off to the side. She hadn’t seen them. Duck turned to Bill and held a finger to his lips. Keep quiet.
They took off running toward the woman.
A few yards past the truck she turned right, off the road, onto a path. Duck and Billy lost sight of her. They were sprinting now.
Duck reached the path first. He veered onto the path and kept running, Billy close behind. The path wound through thick vegetation. After a minute Duck caught a glimpse through the bushes of the woman ahead. They were getting close. She had not noticed them.
They ran a few more yards, then Duck stopped so suddenly that Billy almost ran into him. Duck made a Get down gesture. The two men dropped into a crouch, both breathing hard.
“What?” whispered Billy.
“Shh,” whispered Duck. Keeping low, he crept forward, Billy following. Through a narrow opening in the bushes Duck could make out the cabin ahead. He saw the woman was talking to two men, one short and fat, one tall and ripped.
“Shit,” whispered Duck. “Shit.”
He turned around.
“Go back,” he whispered.
“Why?” said Billy.
“Just go back,” said Duck.
They crawled back a few yards. Duck made sure they were well out of sight, then the two men stood.
“What is it?” said Billy.
“She’s with two guys,” said Duck. “At a cabin.”
“What guys?”
“I dunno. Guys. One’s pretty big.”
“So what? You got a gun.”
Duck held up his hand. “Lemme think a minute.”
“Duck, she knows where the gold’s at. We got to—”
“I said lemme think a fucking minute.”
Duck thought about it, then said, “OK, here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna keep a watch on her, twenty-four/seven. When she leaves, we’re gonna follow her.”
“Why’n’t we just go in there now? You got a gun.”
“Two reasons. One, there’s at least two guys there. Could be more. They could have guns, too.”
“Yeah, but maybe they don’t, and if we leave, what’s gonna stop them from getting to the gold first?”
“Because they don’t know where the gold is, and that bitch ain’t gonna tell ’em.”
“How the fuck you know that?”
“Think about it, Billy. What’d she do with this?” He hefted the gold bar.
Billy frowned. “She hid it. Under the steps.”
“And why’d she hide it? Why’n’t she just take it back to those guys?”
Billy nodded, getting it. “She didn’t want them to know about it.”
“That’s right. Bitch wants to keep the gold all to herself.”
Billy shook his head at the dishonesty of it. “That bitch.”
“So here’s what we do,” said Duck. “First, we put this”—he hefted the bar again—“back under the steps.”
“What? Why we gonna do that?”
“So she don’t know we know about it. I don’t wanna spook her. This bitch is tricky.”
“Can’t we just, like, grab her when she comes out, mess her up a little ’til she talks? Or how about we take her baby away? I bet that’ll make her talk.”
Duck nodded. “Yeah, we can do that, if we have to. But I wanna keep our options open. For now we let her think nobody knows. Easiest thing for us, we just follow her, she takes us right to the gold.”
“Then what happens to her?” said Billy.
“We’ll see,” said Duck.
“I wouldn’t mind messing her up,” said Billy.
Duck nodded. “OK, but first we get the gold.”
“Right,” said Billy. “Gold first.”
“OK,” said Duck. “Far as I can tell, this path ends at the cabin. Past there is open swamp. Sooner or later she’ll come back up this path. So we set up back at the road where their truck is, out of sight in the bushes. We wait ’til she comes back out. I’ll take the first watch.” He handed the gold bar to Billy. “Put this back under them steps exactly the way it was, OK? Then go on back to the trailer and get some sleep. Keep your phone on loud. I’ll call you when it’s your turn to stand watch. Or if she comes out. Got it?”
Billy nodded.
“We’re close,” said Duck. “Real close. It’s right around here someplace, and she’s gonna show us where. One way or another, she’s gonna show us.”
Chapter 14
When Jesse got back to the cabin, Slater and Kark were baked, which was normal. What was abnormal was that instead of lying around the cabin, they were outside holding an animated conversation, the two of them striding around the clearing, gesturing and babbling excitedly about a video shoot.
They tried to explain it to Jesse, but the more they talked, the less coherent they were.
“So wait,” she said. “Now you’re making a video with your weed dealer?”
“In partnership,” said Kark. “We’re gonna use the footage for Glades Man. He’s gonna use it to promote his store as the headquarters of the whaddyacallit. Melon thing.”
“The melon thing?” said Jesse.
“It’s gonna be our story arch,” said Slater.
“Your what?” said Jesse.
“He means arc,” said Kark. “For the pilot.”
“The melon thing is?” said Jesse.
“Right,” said Slater. “It’s like this mystery. It’s out in the swamp and I’m reacting to it, like, ‘What the fuck is that?’ ” He turned to Kark. “You said I should have my shirt off, right?”
“Definitely,” said Kark.
“And the melon thing is… what?” said Jesse.
“A guy from YouTube,” said Kark. “With this giant head. He’s gonna walk around in the head, and Ken, the weed guy, is gonna ‘discover’ him.” Kark put air quotes around “discover.”
“About that,” said Slater. “Shouldn’t it be me? Who discovers it?”
Kark frowned. “Well, what we told Ken was, he gets credit for the video. It was his idea. He wants to put it on social media, drive traffic to his store.”
“So where do I come in?”
“Well, like I told Ken, you’re like a sidekick. You’re with him when he sees the melon thing, and there’s a shot of you reacting. Like, ‘Holy shit! A melon thing!’ ”
“Maybe I’m running toward it,” said Slater. “Like I’m trying to catch it.”
“The way you tried to catch that python?” said Jesse.
Slater ignored her. “My point,” he told Kark, “is I’m the Glades Guy—”
“Glades Man,” said Kark.
“Right, I’m the Glades Man, so seems to me I need to have, like, a bigger role in this. Not just sidekick to the weed guy.”
“Definitely,” said Kark, “in the pilot, you’re totally the main character. Lots of shots of you looking around, tracking the melon thing, et cetera. We’ll shoot all that later. But for tomorrow we mainly shoot the YouTube guy.”
“With me reacting.”
“Right, we’ll get some reaction shots of you.”
“Shirtless.”
“Right.”
“Or how about I start with my shirt on, then take it off?”
“That might be tricky, in a reaction shot. The motivation. Like, why would seeing the melon thing make you take your shirt off?”
Slater thought about that. “OK, maybe I’m getting ready to swim after it.”
“Like you swam after the python?” said Jesse.
Slater glared at her. “Jess, this is serious.”
“I see that!” she said. “So when are you guys shooting this video?”
“Tomorrow,” said Kark. “At dusk. We want low light. Ominous.”
“How long is the shooting gonna take?” said Jesse.
Kark shrugged. “Couple hours.”
“OK,” said Slater, “how about, I’m sweating a lot, because of the tension, seeing this melon thing, so I take off my shirt and wipe my forehead.”
“That might work,” said Kark. “If you do it fast.”
“What time is dusk?” said Jesse.
“Around seven,” said Kark.
“Maybe I should just, like, have my shirt off from the start,” said Slater. “Keep it simple.”
“That’s probably the way to go,” said Kark.
“So, like, what are my lines?” said Slater.
“Lines?” said Kark.
“Yeah, like when I’m reacting, I need to say something, right? Like ‘Look at that!’ Or ‘Holy shit!’ Can I say ‘shit’?”
“I think so, yeah.”
“What about ‘fuck’?”
Jesse walked away, leaving them to continue their discussion. She went to the other side of the cabin and spread her towel on the ground. She carefully removed Willa, who was sound asleep, from the baby carrier and laid her gently on the towel. Jesse sat down next to her daughter and thought about her next move.
A plan was forming in her mind, inspired by Kark’s and Slater’s moronic video idea. Kark had said they’d be busy for a couple of hours. Jesse would take advantage of the distraction to take Slater’s truck into Miami and see a lawyer.
The only local lawyer she knew personally was a guy she’d dated, very briefly, before she met Slater. The lawyer, Erik Turpake, had turned out to be an arrogant asshole, but he seemed successful. Ideally she’d have called or texted him, but her phone, like Slater’s, was useless, because Slater had long ago stopped paying the bills. Kark’s phone still worked, but she didn’t see how she could get it away from him and use it undetected. She’d just have to hope she could track Erik down. She’d also have to hope he’d believe her story about the gold. It still seemed wildly improbable to Jesse, and she knew it was real.
Willa woke and started crying, her I’m hungry cry.
“It’s OK, baby girl,” said Jesse, picking her up, lifting her T-shirt. “Mommy’s here.”
As Willa fed, Jesse’s thoughts went back to what she’d tell Erik. She decided her best shot at convincing him would be to show him the gold bar she’d hidden under the steps of the creepy cabin. That meant she’d have to spend time retrieving the bar before she could take the truck. But it seemed like her best hope of being believed. And right now she desperately wanted somebody to believe her, somebody she could trust.
She hugged Willa closer.
“Tomorrow, baby girl,” she whispered. “We’re gonna take a ride.”
Chapter 15
Stu walked into the Gallo Grande, hesitating by the door, his eyes struggling to adapt to the dim light after the white-hot glare of the late-afternoon South Florida sun.
After a few seconds he saw Phil seated at the bar. He was wearing ratty gray sweatpants and a faded blue Duke sweatshirt. In front of him were two empty glasses and a full Moscow mule. Overhead a TV screen was showing a man with a serious expression tossing what appeared to be a beanbag.
Stu walked over and tapped Phil’s shoulder, getting a nod in return.
“What the hell is that?” said Stu, pointing up at the TV.
“That,” said Phil, “is a cornhole tournament.”
“Seriously?”
“Yup,” said Phil. “Not only that, but it’s professional cornhole. These guys are getting paid to play cornhole. And that’s not the worst part.”
“What’s the worst part?”
“I’m watching them.”
Stu took a seat next to Phil. He gestured to the glasses. “Looks like you’re also doing some pregaming. As the kids say.”
Phil lifted his mule, drained half, set it down. “If I have to run around the Everglades wearing this stupid head”—he pointed to a black garbage bag at his feet—“I am not about to do it sober.”
“Apparently not,” said Stu.
“It’s happy hour,” said Phil. “You get three for one.”
“I’m good,” said Stu.
“You say that now.”
“So,” said Stu, “when’s this guy supposed to be here?”
Phil looked at the neon Coors Light wall clock. “Any minute. If he shows.”
“You think he might not show?”
“I don’t know. I don’t really know the guy. He seemed serious, but let’s face it, this whole thing is insane. Maybe he’ll figure that out, say the hell with it. I hope not, though. I really need the money.”
“I don’t think it’s insane,” said Stu. “I think it could work.”
“Right, but you’re also insane.”
Stu laughed. “True.”
The door opened. Ken and Brad entered, blinking.
Phil looked over. “That’s my guy, the one in front.”
“Who’s the other one?”
“No idea.” Phil waved to Ken, who waved back and came over, followed by Brad.
“Hey,” said Ken.
“Hey,” said Phil. He pointed to Brad. “Who’s this?”
“My brother, Brad. He’s coming with us.”
Phil nodded at Brad, who was a taller and better-looking version of Ken. Brad nodded back. Phil got the impression he was not thrilled to be there.
Phil gestured toward Stu and said, “This is Stu. He’s, uh—”
“Right. But not the shit we have here now. New shit. I already ordered T-shirts.”
Brad rubbed his face with both hands.
“Ken,” he said, “you remember the Gator Giveaway?”
“OK, that was a mistake, I admit it.”
“You didn’t think so at the time. I tried to tell you, but you were sure it was a killer idea. Give customers a live alligator for every purchase over twenty-five dollars. Remember how that worked out?”
“It might’ve worked out good, if some asshole didn’t call Fish and Wildlife.”
“Because it was illegal, Ken. Also, it was not a great idea to be giving people an eighty-pound gator to take home in their Dodge Caravan with their three kids and their Yorkshire terrier.”
“Well I ran out of the smaller gators.”
“It ate their dog, Ken. Which we had to pay for. A purebred dog. We were lucky they didn’t sue our asses off.”
“OKOK, I told you, that was a mistake. But this is different.”
“I agree,” said Brad. “This is different.”
Ken looked at him. “You mean that?”
“Yup. The Gator Giveaway was very stupid. But this, this Everglades… thing—”
“Melon Monster.”
“Whatever. This isn’t stupid.”
“It’s not?”
“No, Ken. It’s way, way past stupid. It can’t even see stupid from where it is. It’s the Super Bowl MVP of stupid ideas. We’re in serious trouble here, Ken. We’re dying. We can’t be pissing away our money on this bullshit when we got bills to pay.”
Brad reached for the stack of money.
Ken covered it with his hand. “No,” he said. “I’m doing this, Brad.”
“We’re gonna lose the store.”
“We’re gonna lose it anyway, the way it’s going.”
Brad had no answer for that.
“Listen,” said Ken. “I brought in this money. I’m the one out there hustling while you diddle on your phone.”
Brad had no answer for that, either.
The brothers were silent for a few moments.
“Look,” said Ken, “I know I fucked up a bunch of times before. And I know this idea sounds crazy.”
“It doesn’t just sound crazy, Ken. It is crazy. It is totally, one hundred percent, batshit crazy.”
Ken smiled. “OK, maybe it is. But we tried sane, Brad. Sane ain’t working for us anymore. It’s time to try crazy. That’s what we do out here.” He waved his arm at the store, and the Everglades in general. “People said Daddy and Uncle Canaan were crazy when they started this business in the first place.”
“They were crazy,” said Brad.
“I know! That’s my point. Crazy worked for them, putting on shows, talking bullshit to tourists, Daddy pretending Rex was this scary alligator about to bite his head off any second, showing the crowd his finger…”
Brad, now smiling despite himself, said, “Which he did to himself, trying to catch a moving semi.”
The brothers laughed together, remembering. After a moment Brad sighed and pointed at the money.
“OK,” he said. “You’re right. You earned it. Take it. We’re fucked anyway.”
“You mean it?”
“Yeah.”
“Thanks,” said Ken. “I really think this could actually—”
“Whatever,” said Brad, cutting him off. “Just make sure you keep enough to pay Pinky, OK? We do not need Pinky coming after us.”
“Right,” said Ken. “So, one more thing…”
Brad arched his eyebrows.
“Could you come with me?” said Ken. “To the video shoot?”
“Why? You don’t trust these people?”
“No, they’re OK. I just want to make sure they understand who’s in charge of this thing. This is a Bortle Brothers production.”
Brad laughed. “Seriously? We’re producers now?”
“Why not? We’re paying for it.”
“OK,” said Brad. “What the hell, I’ll go with you.” He shook his head, still smiling. “A Bortle Brothers production.”
“Sounds good, right?” said Ken.
“Sounds insane,” said Brad.
“Like I said,” said Ken, “sometimes insane is the way to go.”
Chapter 13
The Campbell brothers, high on adrenaline, ran hard along the path in the direction the woman had taken, Duck carrying the gold bar. The woman had a head start, but she was walking, and carrying a baby. They’d only been at the cabin for a few minutes; they figured they’d catch up to her quickly if they could follow the route she’d taken.
At one point the footpath was joined by a lesser-used path, coming in from the left. They hesitated, wondering if the woman had veered off here. They decided to keep going straight, on the more beaten path. When they reached the two-track dirt road, they knew they’d guessed right.
“There she is,” said Duck.
The woman was about fifty yards down the road, passing an old pickup parked off to the side. She hadn’t seen them. Duck turned to Bill and held a finger to his lips. Keep quiet.
They took off running toward the woman.
A few yards past the truck she turned right, off the road, onto a path. Duck and Billy lost sight of her. They were sprinting now.
Duck reached the path first. He veered onto the path and kept running, Billy close behind. The path wound through thick vegetation. After a minute Duck caught a glimpse through the bushes of the woman ahead. They were getting close. She had not noticed them.
They ran a few more yards, then Duck stopped so suddenly that Billy almost ran into him. Duck made a Get down gesture. The two men dropped into a crouch, both breathing hard.
“What?” whispered Billy.
“Shh,” whispered Duck. Keeping low, he crept forward, Billy following. Through a narrow opening in the bushes Duck could make out the cabin ahead. He saw the woman was talking to two men, one short and fat, one tall and ripped.
“Shit,” whispered Duck. “Shit.”
He turned around.
“Go back,” he whispered.
“Why?” said Billy.
“Just go back,” said Duck.
They crawled back a few yards. Duck made sure they were well out of sight, then the two men stood.
“What is it?” said Billy.
“She’s with two guys,” said Duck. “At a cabin.”
“What guys?”
“I dunno. Guys. One’s pretty big.”
“So what? You got a gun.”
Duck held up his hand. “Lemme think a minute.”
“Duck, she knows where the gold’s at. We got to—”
“I said lemme think a fucking minute.”
Duck thought about it, then said, “OK, here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna keep a watch on her, twenty-four/seven. When she leaves, we’re gonna follow her.”
“Why’n’t we just go in there now? You got a gun.”
“Two reasons. One, there’s at least two guys there. Could be more. They could have guns, too.”
“Yeah, but maybe they don’t, and if we leave, what’s gonna stop them from getting to the gold first?”
“Because they don’t know where the gold is, and that bitch ain’t gonna tell ’em.”
“How the fuck you know that?”
“Think about it, Billy. What’d she do with this?” He hefted the gold bar.
Billy frowned. “She hid it. Under the steps.”
“And why’d she hide it? Why’n’t she just take it back to those guys?”
Billy nodded, getting it. “She didn’t want them to know about it.”
“That’s right. Bitch wants to keep the gold all to herself.”
Billy shook his head at the dishonesty of it. “That bitch.”
“So here’s what we do,” said Duck. “First, we put this”—he hefted the bar again—“back under the steps.”
“What? Why we gonna do that?”
“So she don’t know we know about it. I don’t wanna spook her. This bitch is tricky.”
“Can’t we just, like, grab her when she comes out, mess her up a little ’til she talks? Or how about we take her baby away? I bet that’ll make her talk.”
Duck nodded. “Yeah, we can do that, if we have to. But I wanna keep our options open. For now we let her think nobody knows. Easiest thing for us, we just follow her, she takes us right to the gold.”
“Then what happens to her?” said Billy.
“We’ll see,” said Duck.
“I wouldn’t mind messing her up,” said Billy.
Duck nodded. “OK, but first we get the gold.”
“Right,” said Billy. “Gold first.”
“OK,” said Duck. “Far as I can tell, this path ends at the cabin. Past there is open swamp. Sooner or later she’ll come back up this path. So we set up back at the road where their truck is, out of sight in the bushes. We wait ’til she comes back out. I’ll take the first watch.” He handed the gold bar to Billy. “Put this back under them steps exactly the way it was, OK? Then go on back to the trailer and get some sleep. Keep your phone on loud. I’ll call you when it’s your turn to stand watch. Or if she comes out. Got it?”
Billy nodded.
“We’re close,” said Duck. “Real close. It’s right around here someplace, and she’s gonna show us where. One way or another, she’s gonna show us.”
Chapter 14
When Jesse got back to the cabin, Slater and Kark were baked, which was normal. What was abnormal was that instead of lying around the cabin, they were outside holding an animated conversation, the two of them striding around the clearing, gesturing and babbling excitedly about a video shoot.
They tried to explain it to Jesse, but the more they talked, the less coherent they were.
“So wait,” she said. “Now you’re making a video with your weed dealer?”
“In partnership,” said Kark. “We’re gonna use the footage for Glades Man. He’s gonna use it to promote his store as the headquarters of the whaddyacallit. Melon thing.”
“The melon thing?” said Jesse.
“It’s gonna be our story arch,” said Slater.
“Your what?” said Jesse.
“He means arc,” said Kark. “For the pilot.”
“The melon thing is?” said Jesse.
“Right,” said Slater. “It’s like this mystery. It’s out in the swamp and I’m reacting to it, like, ‘What the fuck is that?’ ” He turned to Kark. “You said I should have my shirt off, right?”
“Definitely,” said Kark.
“And the melon thing is… what?” said Jesse.
“A guy from YouTube,” said Kark. “With this giant head. He’s gonna walk around in the head, and Ken, the weed guy, is gonna ‘discover’ him.” Kark put air quotes around “discover.”
“About that,” said Slater. “Shouldn’t it be me? Who discovers it?”
Kark frowned. “Well, what we told Ken was, he gets credit for the video. It was his idea. He wants to put it on social media, drive traffic to his store.”
“So where do I come in?”
“Well, like I told Ken, you’re like a sidekick. You’re with him when he sees the melon thing, and there’s a shot of you reacting. Like, ‘Holy shit! A melon thing!’ ”
“Maybe I’m running toward it,” said Slater. “Like I’m trying to catch it.”
“The way you tried to catch that python?” said Jesse.
Slater ignored her. “My point,” he told Kark, “is I’m the Glades Guy—”
“Glades Man,” said Kark.
“Right, I’m the Glades Man, so seems to me I need to have, like, a bigger role in this. Not just sidekick to the weed guy.”
“Definitely,” said Kark, “in the pilot, you’re totally the main character. Lots of shots of you looking around, tracking the melon thing, et cetera. We’ll shoot all that later. But for tomorrow we mainly shoot the YouTube guy.”
“With me reacting.”
“Right, we’ll get some reaction shots of you.”
“Shirtless.”
“Right.”
“Or how about I start with my shirt on, then take it off?”
“That might be tricky, in a reaction shot. The motivation. Like, why would seeing the melon thing make you take your shirt off?”
Slater thought about that. “OK, maybe I’m getting ready to swim after it.”
“Like you swam after the python?” said Jesse.
Slater glared at her. “Jess, this is serious.”
“I see that!” she said. “So when are you guys shooting this video?”
“Tomorrow,” said Kark. “At dusk. We want low light. Ominous.”
“How long is the shooting gonna take?” said Jesse.
Kark shrugged. “Couple hours.”
“OK,” said Slater, “how about, I’m sweating a lot, because of the tension, seeing this melon thing, so I take off my shirt and wipe my forehead.”
“That might work,” said Kark. “If you do it fast.”
“What time is dusk?” said Jesse.
“Around seven,” said Kark.
“Maybe I should just, like, have my shirt off from the start,” said Slater. “Keep it simple.”
“That’s probably the way to go,” said Kark.
“So, like, what are my lines?” said Slater.
“Lines?” said Kark.
“Yeah, like when I’m reacting, I need to say something, right? Like ‘Look at that!’ Or ‘Holy shit!’ Can I say ‘shit’?”
“I think so, yeah.”
“What about ‘fuck’?”
Jesse walked away, leaving them to continue their discussion. She went to the other side of the cabin and spread her towel on the ground. She carefully removed Willa, who was sound asleep, from the baby carrier and laid her gently on the towel. Jesse sat down next to her daughter and thought about her next move.
A plan was forming in her mind, inspired by Kark’s and Slater’s moronic video idea. Kark had said they’d be busy for a couple of hours. Jesse would take advantage of the distraction to take Slater’s truck into Miami and see a lawyer.
The only local lawyer she knew personally was a guy she’d dated, very briefly, before she met Slater. The lawyer, Erik Turpake, had turned out to be an arrogant asshole, but he seemed successful. Ideally she’d have called or texted him, but her phone, like Slater’s, was useless, because Slater had long ago stopped paying the bills. Kark’s phone still worked, but she didn’t see how she could get it away from him and use it undetected. She’d just have to hope she could track Erik down. She’d also have to hope he’d believe her story about the gold. It still seemed wildly improbable to Jesse, and she knew it was real.
Willa woke and started crying, her I’m hungry cry.
“It’s OK, baby girl,” said Jesse, picking her up, lifting her T-shirt. “Mommy’s here.”
As Willa fed, Jesse’s thoughts went back to what she’d tell Erik. She decided her best shot at convincing him would be to show him the gold bar she’d hidden under the steps of the creepy cabin. That meant she’d have to spend time retrieving the bar before she could take the truck. But it seemed like her best hope of being believed. And right now she desperately wanted somebody to believe her, somebody she could trust.
She hugged Willa closer.
“Tomorrow, baby girl,” she whispered. “We’re gonna take a ride.”
Chapter 15
Stu walked into the Gallo Grande, hesitating by the door, his eyes struggling to adapt to the dim light after the white-hot glare of the late-afternoon South Florida sun.
After a few seconds he saw Phil seated at the bar. He was wearing ratty gray sweatpants and a faded blue Duke sweatshirt. In front of him were two empty glasses and a full Moscow mule. Overhead a TV screen was showing a man with a serious expression tossing what appeared to be a beanbag.
Stu walked over and tapped Phil’s shoulder, getting a nod in return.
“What the hell is that?” said Stu, pointing up at the TV.
“That,” said Phil, “is a cornhole tournament.”
“Seriously?”
“Yup,” said Phil. “Not only that, but it’s professional cornhole. These guys are getting paid to play cornhole. And that’s not the worst part.”
“What’s the worst part?”
“I’m watching them.”
Stu took a seat next to Phil. He gestured to the glasses. “Looks like you’re also doing some pregaming. As the kids say.”
Phil lifted his mule, drained half, set it down. “If I have to run around the Everglades wearing this stupid head”—he pointed to a black garbage bag at his feet—“I am not about to do it sober.”
“Apparently not,” said Stu.
“It’s happy hour,” said Phil. “You get three for one.”
“I’m good,” said Stu.
“You say that now.”
“So,” said Stu, “when’s this guy supposed to be here?”
Phil looked at the neon Coors Light wall clock. “Any minute. If he shows.”
“You think he might not show?”
“I don’t know. I don’t really know the guy. He seemed serious, but let’s face it, this whole thing is insane. Maybe he’ll figure that out, say the hell with it. I hope not, though. I really need the money.”
“I don’t think it’s insane,” said Stu. “I think it could work.”
“Right, but you’re also insane.”
Stu laughed. “True.”
The door opened. Ken and Brad entered, blinking.
Phil looked over. “That’s my guy, the one in front.”
“Who’s the other one?”
“No idea.” Phil waved to Ken, who waved back and came over, followed by Brad.
“Hey,” said Ken.
“Hey,” said Phil. He pointed to Brad. “Who’s this?”
“My brother, Brad. He’s coming with us.”
Phil nodded at Brad, who was a taller and better-looking version of Ken. Brad nodded back. Phil got the impression he was not thrilled to be there.
Phil gestured toward Stu and said, “This is Stu. He’s, uh—”
