Last summer and this summer--ever since I got my boat--I've crabbed. I set those traps out, checked 'em a couple of times a day, and scooped up the crabs. I boiled 'em up real good. Real tasty. I set 'em out every time we had people over, and almost every time I had to teach somebody how to peel 'em so they could eat 'em. I didn't mind that. I got way more than we needed for that, though. We needed to peel those things and freeze that meat. I mean, blue crab meat is a delicacy, but somebody's got to get it out of the shell. The summer before, I got Tim and Brian to help me peel them while we were watching TV. I did about twice as many as they did, and that was okay. That summer, though, I got way more than I had gotten the year before, and my boys rebelled on me. "Who wants to pick crabs tonight?" I asked. Dead silence. "Tim?" "I'll do it, Kyle, but I really don't want to," he said. "Brian?" "Ditto," Brian said. "Y'all all like the stuff we make with crabmeat, don't you?" I asked. "Kyle, yeah, we do. But you can buy it, too, you know? This ain't a food-gathering culture anymore, Bubba. Except for you," Justin said. "What do you know about that?" I asked. "I don't know shit about that, but I know I don't feel like picking any crabs. I just want to watch TV and veg out. In case you missed it, Kyle, I worked all day today, and so did you. Ain't you tired, man?" Justin said. I thought about what he said. I mean, there was plenty of potential there for me to get pissed off. I decided I wasn't going to, though. I was going to be cool about it. "All right," I said. "I'll take care of it." I knew some Vietnamese boys who were fishermen. Shrimpers, really. They all had wives or girlfriends that I knew could peel crabs and who would want to make some money. I'd take them the crabs I had caught. Plus, I wasn't going to catch anymore. I mean, Justin was right. You could buy crabmeat, and you could buy live crabs, too, for parties and such. Plus, I didn't really think anybody liked 'em as much as I did, anyhow. I hated the idea of not crabbing anymore, though. I mean, I had the equipment and the know-how, but crabs had those damn shells on them. I couldn't deny that or make the shells go away. I could pick out a lot of them myself, but I didn't like it all that much, either. I stewed about that all that night. I had this real deep-seated need to put food on the table that I had caught myself. I didn't know what that was all about, but it was like a compulsion with me. Then I remembered SCUBA and picking up lobsters on the floor of the Gulf. It had been a few years since I had dived, but I could get back to that. The next day I talked to my buddy Philip. "I want to start diving again," I said. "SCUBA diving?" he asked. "Yeah. That's the only kind of diving I've ever done. You want to do it?" I asked. Philip and I had certified as SCUBA divers when we were freshmen. It was before the whole gay thing and the boyfriend thing started for us. Tim was my life, and I knew Ryan was his life, but those boys had distracted us. It was time for us to get back to basics. "Yeah, I wouldn't mind it," he said. "I'm going to need a refresher, though." "I know. Me, too. I called the dive shop, and they offer a refresher course. Three hours. That's it," I said. "Let's do it, Buddy," Philip said. "I'm all over that. In fact, I already signed us up. This Saturday," I said. "You shit," he said. "You manipulate me, Kyle." "I'd love to manipulate you, and you know it. And you wouldn't forget it, either," I said. He laughed. "I'm sure," he said. * * * That refresher SCUBA course was good, and that man went over everything. Philip and I were both PADI-certified Adventure Divers, and we only needed two more supervised Adventure Dives to become Advanced Open Water Divers. After a couple of hours, every bit of it came back to me, too. I got a little bit of flak about it, too, that morning. Tim already knew what I was doing. They were all in their underwear. I showed up in the den dressed. I wanted a cup of coffee to get me started, but I only ate a little bit. My gear was at the condo, and I would have to stop there to pick it up. "Where the hell you going?" Justin asked. "Out," I said. "Oh, yeah? Out where?" Justin asked. "I'm going diving with Philip," I said. "You want to go?" "You know I can't do that," Justin said. "I ain't got the equipment, for one thing. Or the training, for another." "You can get both, you know," I said. "You have to take a course in it, though." "I'm going to pass," Justin said. "Are y'all going fishing, or what?" "Yeah. We want to try to get some lobsters. Shovelnose," I said. "Shovelnose?" Kevin asked "Yeah. The shovelnose ones are really ugly, Kevin, but they taste just as good as the regular ones. Better, even. The shovelnose are more populous around here," I said. "I'll take the heads off before I bring 'em home, though," I said. "I'd like to see one whole, Kyle," Brian said. "Okay, I'll bring you one, Bri, but they're ugly as hell. They look prehistoric," I said. "Cool," Bri said. That boy loved an animal better than anything. He could probably train it, too. Philip and I met at the dive shop and paid our money. I didn't know the guy who was going to give us the class, but I knew two or three of the other guys working there. Philip knew them, too. "Well, I'll be damn. Look who's here," Mr. Henley, the guy who runs the shop, said. "You getting back to it, son?" "Yes, sir. It's about time, too. It's been too long," I said. "Well, that's a fact. Are your tanks okay, boys?" "Yes, sir. I brought 'em in last Tuesday," I said. "I reckon they're ready." They were. "Y'all going to do some fishing?" Mr. Henley asked. "Yes, sir. We hope to pick up some lobsters," I said. "Have you got a license with a lobster stamp?" he asked. "Yes, sir. I've got a license, but I didn't know I needed a stamp," I said. "Yes, sir. You've got to have one. Unless all you want is those ole slipper lobsters," he said. "Is that the same thing as a shovelnose lobster?" I asked. "Yep. Some people call 'em shovelnose, some call 'em Spanish. It's all the same. You don't need a license to pick those things up," he said. "My daddy calls 'em bulldozers," Philip said. "Yeah, I've heard 'em called that, too," Mr. Henley said. "There's no season on those things, or limit, either. Only on the spinys." "You've got to go deep for those spinys, don't you?" I asked. "Yeah. Eighty, ninety feet, at least," he said. "We just want to catch us some shovelnoses. I think those taste better than the spinys. They're easier to find, too," I said. "Clay, I agree with you one hundred percent, son," Mr. Henley said. "I'm Kyle," I said. "I know who you are. You're Gene Goodson's son, ain't you?" "Yes, sir, only you said 'Clay' instead of 'Kyle,'" I said. "Clay was my brother." "Oh, I'm sorry, son. It was just a slip of the tongue." "That's okay," I said. We took our class and were ready to go. "Good luck, boys. I hope you get what you're after," Mr. Henley said. "Thanks," Philip and I said at the same time. And we did get what we were after. I got a dozen, and Philip got fourteen. That would be plenty for a nice lobster feast. Instead of taking the heads off on the boat, though, we kept them alive in buckets of water until we got home. We had seen some nurse sharks in the water, and I didn't want to throw the heads overboard to attract a school of those things. "Y'all come see what we got," I said, as we went in the back door. Philip and I were just in bathing suits. Mine was mostly dry by then, too. The ones who were in the den came into the kitchen to see. I picked up one and put it on the counter. "God, that thing's ugly," Jus said. "I know," I said. "Where are the claws?" Tim asked. "Florida lobsters don't have claws, Babe," I said. "Spiny lobsters have two great big ole antennas, but none of 'em have claws." "Let me see that thing," Brian said. I gave it to Brian, and that lobster snapped itself in half. It scared Brian, and he dropped it on the floor. That set the dogs off, of course. Trixie wanted to get after that thing, and Krewe was pawing at it, too. "Hush," Brian said, to make them stop barking. And it worked, too. "Do these things bite?" Brian asked. "I don't really know," I said. "I've never heard of anybody being bit by one, but that don't mean they can't do it." I picked the lobster up and put it back in the bucket. "How do you cook those things, Kyle?" Rick asked. "The first thing you do it take the heads off. Then you can boil 'em or take the shell off and grill 'em. They're good cooked on the grill," I said. "Y'all want some tonight?" "Sure," Kevin said. "Don't forget. We've got church tonight." "Oh, that's right. You want to stay and go to church with us? We can cook when we get home," I said to Philip. "Sure. Might as well. I need to go home to clean up. What time should I be back here?" Philip asked. "About quarter to six," I said. I knew Ryan was out of town with his parents, so that would give Philip something to do. "Take some of these to your mama and daddy," I said. "Okay," he said. He had a bucket, too, and he picked out eight from his bucket and put them in my bucket. "How many did you leave?" I asked. "I had fourteen, so there are six left in the bucket," he said. "Take more than that," I said. "Naw. That's enough. My mama might not even want to fool with 'em," he said. "Do you know how to dress 'em?" I asked. "Show me one time," he said. I put on some rubber gloves that were in a drawer in the kitchen, and I broke the head off one. "That's all there is to it," I said. "You can boil them heads-on, if you want, and serve 'em like that, too." We went to church and then ate lobster that night. Everybody liked 'em, too. That was a hell of a lot easier than picking crabs, too.
One of the big events every summer in Emerald Beach was the annual Invitational Billfish Tournament. We hadn't really done anything with that the year before because Gene and Rita were still in mourning for Clay, but that year Goodson Enterprises was going to be one of the sponsors. There wasn't much to do in connection with that, except to write a check, of course, but as a sponsor we got to participate in all the activities. And there were plenty of activities, too. The tournament issues seventy-five invitations, and it costs something like $10,000 for a boat to participate. It starts on Wednesday evening with registration and the reading of the rules, and it ends with an awards brunch on Sunday morning. In between, there are parties, entertainment, and, of course, the weigh-in ceremonies on Friday and Saturday nights. It draws somewhere around 12,000 people, and there are lots of exhibits and booths all over the place. "Kyle, did you know Goodson Enterprises is a sponsor of the billfish tournament?" I asked. "For real?" he asked. "Yeah, for real. Have you ever been to it?" I asked. "We didn't go last year, but I've always gone to it before," he said. "It's a lot of fun. A lot of the boats have parties. Some of those boats are fabulous, too." The day of the opening party for the tournament I got a call at work from Tyrone Williams. He called from time to time to check in with us and to see how everything was going. He was a likeable man, and I always enjoyed our phone visits. "How are things going on the lagoon, Kevin?" he asked. "They're going well. We've had a steady stream of visitors this summer, but things are fairly quiet right now," I said. "Are all the boys working?" he asked. "Yeah, and Brian's also in summer school," I said. "Why? Did he fail something?" "Oh, no. This is new credit. He wants to graduate a year early so they can all go off to college together in a year," I said. "My goodness. They're growing up, aren't they?" he said. "That they are, Tyrone. That they are," I said. Months before Rick and I had discussed how to handle Tyrone when he called with a new kid. We had decided that we'd just take what he brought us without the need to discuss the matter between ourselves or with the boys. We knew they loved getting new kids, and we did, too. "Kevin, I've got another favor to ask you," he said. "Do you have another kid?" I asked. "Yes, I do. He's originally from New York, but he's been living in the Crestview area. I'm not real clear about this, but I think his mother is incapacitated with cancer, and she's a single mom. She's in a nursing home, anyway. I have to warn you, he's a little on the flamboyant side," he said. "Do you mean he's effeminate?" I asked. "He's that, but, well, he has blue hair, fingernail polish, a pierced nose. That kind of thing," he said. "I guess you need to talk it over with Rick, right?" "Naw. He'll be fine with it. How old is he?" I asked. "He's fifteen, going on thirty," he said. "Oh, that kind," I said, and he and I both chuckled. "His name is Murray Schultz, and he's right here in my office. Is there any way I can take him out to your place today?" Yikes! I thought. With everything connected with the fishing tournament, that was not really a good plan. "Are you still there?" Tyrone asked. "Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking. Okay. Bring him on today" I said. "Around four, okay?" "God loves you, Kevin," Tyrone said. "I know. That's why He made me gay," I said. "That's also why He made me black," he said, and we both laughed. We exchanged goodbyes. I called Rick's private number, and he was free to talk right away. I walked over to his office. His secretary was on vacation, and there was a temp filling in. I told her hello and started to open Rick's office door. "Sir," she said. "May I help you?" "I just need to see Rick," I said. "Is he expecting you?" "Yeah. I just talked to him. I'm Kevin. Kevin Foley, his partner," I said. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Foley. I know who you are, I just . . . " "Don't worry about it. I'm kind of glad to see you're taking such good care of him," I said. "Yes, sir," she said, obviously embarrassed. I went into his office. "What's up?" he asked. "By the way, are we supposed to wear suits to that thing tonight?" "No. I'm wearing shorts. That's what Gene said he's wearing," I said. I sat down. "Good. It's mostly outside, isn't it? It'll be hot." "Yeah, I think so. Look, we need to talk," I said. He got a stricken look on his face. "My God, Kevin. What did I do?" he asked. I laughed a bit. "You didn't do anything. I just got off the phone with Tyrone Williams," I said. "He's got a kid he wants to place with us. He's from Crestview, and he's fifteen." "Paddy won't be here much longer," he said. "Not that he takes up any time, especially since the boyfriend made his appearance." "True. Tyrone described him as flamboyant. When I asked if he meant effeminate by that, he said that he is, but he also has blue hair and a nose ring," I said. "We can handle a little ole nose ring, can't we?" he asked. I smiled. "Of course we can," I said. I started laughing softly. "What are you laughing at?" he asked. "I'm thinking about what Justin's reaction is probably going to be," I said. "Remember Chad?" "Yes, I do," he said. "Justin's matured a lot since then, though." "Oh, I know," I said. "Here's the bad part. He needs to drop him off tonight." "Why is that bad?" he asked. "Well, it's not, but we've got that tournament tonight and for the next several nights. It would just have been nicer if we had had more free time to spend with him when he gets here," I said. "Yeah, but I really don't see that as a problem, Babe," he said. "He'll fit in. Or not." * * * There probably could have been a worse afternoon to get a new kid, but I couldn't think of what that might entail. The tournament started with an opening gathering at 5:30. We were supposed to be there to be introduced. I usually stayed at the office until at least five o'clock, but that day I was leaving at 3:30 in order to get home in time to meet the new boy and to take a shower. Rick and Brian were already home when I got there. Brian was out back with the dogs, and Rick was at the breakfast room table, having coffee. Brian and the dogs came in, and the dogs greeted me, as usual. He was trying to break Krewe of jumping up on people, and she was able to keep it together about 90% of the time. That day she gave in and jumped up on me. "Get down," I said, and she did. "Did you have a good day, Bubba?" I asked Brian. "Yeah, but it was really hot outside today," he said. "How about you?" "It was about usual except I had a conversation with Tyrone Williams," I said. "About me?" he asked. "No, not about you. Although your name did come up. I told him you were in summer school, and he wanted to know if you had failed a subject last year," I said. He grinned. "Yeah, that'll be the day, right, Bubba?" Rick asked playfully. "I know," he said. "He called because he has a boy who needs a home," I said. "He's coming in a few minutes." "Cool," he said, grinning. "How old?" "He's fifteen," I said. "Great!" he said. He was obviously excited about a new brother. That was the spirit of those boys, and I loved it. "We need for you guys to look out for him tonight, okay, Bubba?" I said. "Kevin, you know we will," Bri said. Yes, I did know they would, but I wanted to make the point anyway. "We're not going to stay too late, and y'all need to be home earlyish, too," I said. "I'll stay home with him tonight, if you want me to," Bri said. "No. I want you to go. Kyle said it's really fun. Do you have homework or anything?" "Shoot, I did that before I left school today," he said. "Summer school is not like regular school, and to me trig is pretty easy." "Who's the teacher?" Rick asked. "Trig was a bitch for me, but the teacher can make all the difference." "Mike Lawley," Brian said. He was smiling at the irony inherent in that set of circumstances. "Our Mike Lawley?" Rick asked. "Yeah," Brian said. "And he really is a very good teacher. Kyle had said he was, and he was right." Tim, Kyle, Justin, Denny, and Paddy came home just then. They were all excited about the fishing tournament. Denny kissed Rick and me hello, which is something he did occasionally. Kyle mouthed the word fag behind Denny's back, which is something he did whenever Denny kissed us. Rick chuckled. "Did he call me a fag again?" Denny asked. "Yes, he did. Do you want me to break his legs?" Justin asked. "Naw," Denny said. "Guys, let's go into the den. Rick and I have something to tell you," I said. Once everyone was in place, I broke the news about the new boy. "What's his name?" Tim asked. "It's Murray Schultz," I said. "Babe, I wonder if Murray is Jewish," Rick said. "That would be a very typical Jewish name in Sarasota." "We'll get him in the pool and check him out," Kyle said. "The pool?" I asked, not having a clue about what he was talking about. "Yeah. Naked. Don't Jewish people do something special to their dicks?" he asked. "Jesus Christ, Kyle," Rick said, laughing. Rick and I were laughing so hard we could barely talk. "Jews are circumcised, Kyle. That's all," I said. "Just like us, fool. Even I knew that," Justin said. "Oh. I noticed little Rob wasn't circumcised," Kyle said. "Or do they do that later?" "No. If they do it, they do it before the baby leaves the hospital. His daddy and I aren't circumcised, and I'm sure that's why he wasn't. Let's get off the subject of dicks, please," I said. "Why? There ain't a one of us here who doesn't like 'em," Kyle said. We all laughed. "Seriously, guys. Murray is going to be here any minute. We need to make sure we're extra nice to him, okay? I mean, he'll probably be scared to death," I said. The doorbell rang, and Rick and I got up to answer it. Sure enough, it was Tyrone and Murray. We shook hands all around. I wasn't quite ready for Murray's appearance. He did have blue hair and a stud, not a ring, in his nose. His fingernails were painted black. He had on a long sleeve black shirt and baggy black jeans, and it looked like he hadn't been out in the sun in his entire life. There was a bulge in his shirt pocket, and I wondered if it was a pack of cigarettes. "Come on in, guys. Murray, welcome to your new home, man," Rick said. Murray didn't say anything, but he came in with Tyrone. "Murray, your new brothers are in that room in there," Rick said. "They're excited about meeting you, man." Still no response. We went in, and the kids all stood up. The dogs did, too, and Krewe went up to Murray and jumped up on him. "No!!!!" he screamed. "Get down," Brian said, and he took the two dogs into the laundry room. "She's not going to hurt you, Bubba. She's a puppy, and she doesn't have good manners yet, all the time," I said. He was trembling. Poor kid, I thought. "Come sit on this sofa with me and Rick," I said. He did it reluctantly. He didn't want to leave Tyrone's side. We both put a hand on his back or shoulder, and he seemed to calm down. "Are you afraid of dogs?" Rick asked. "Because our dogs would never hurt you." "Not usually," he said. "But I got a little scared just then." "I'm sorry that happened, Bubba," I said. "You'll get to know them and love them, too, I'll bet." "The man who lived next to me had a dog like that. Those two are Labs, right?" he said. "That's right," I said. His voice and mannerisms made Chad and Gage look like John Wayne. I looked at Justin, and he rolled his eyes. I gave him what I hoped was my "I'm counting on you" look. He smiled and nodded. I knew we could count on him. "Would you like a cup of coffee, Tyrone?" Rick asked. "Do you have any bourbon?" he asked. There was mischief on his face, and we knew he was teasing. "No, thank you. I'm fine." We made small talk for a few minutes, but time was ticking away. Rick and I had to be at the fishing tournament in forty-five minutes, and we both still needed showers. "I'd like to stay and visit, but I know you folks have someplace to go," Tyrone said. "I'll be around with the paperwork tomorrow, Kevin and Rick. And thanks, guys." "He'll be just fine," I said, as we were seeing Tyrone out. "I know. He's a little strange, but . . ." "But that's all right, Tyrone. We can handle that, and so can the boys," I said. "By the way, who was that new boy? Do I know him?" he asked. "Paddy? No, that's Tim's cousin from Boston. He's spending the summer at Gay Camp," Rick said. "Gay Camp? Oh!" Tyrone said, and laughed. "Y'all have fun tonight, and I'll see you tomorrow." We told him 'bye, and we hustled into the shower. We didn't even talk until we were in the car on the way to the tournament. "What are we going to do with him?" I asked. "What do you mean?" he asked. "Well, tomorrow, for example. When we all go to work?" "I hadn't thought about that," he said. "He can come to work with me. I can probably find something for him to do. He doesn't exactly fit the clean-cut image of our bellhops or store clerks, does he?" "Can we put him on the beach with Denny?" I asked. "Sure. He'll need a gallon of sunscreen, though," Rick said. I laughed. "God almighty, Mashburn, did you ever think it was going to come to this?" "No, I didn't, Foley. And who knows where else this adventure is going to lead us," he said.
I really felt bad about Krewe scaring Murray. I know how scared I was when Mr. Williams brought me here, but to have a big dog jump up on you when you weren't expecting it must have been awful. Krewe is still just a puppy, but she's almost full grown. She only weighs fifty pounds, to Trixie's seventy, but that's still a lot of dog to have jump you. I need to work with her to cut that stuff out. Kevin and Rick had to leave pretty quick, but we didn't have any set time to get there. They closed the parking at 5:30, so we'd have to park at a shopping center and take a shuttle bus, anyway. Paddy was going to the tournament with Drew, and Denny was going with Brady, Chip, and Chip's parents. That just left the four of us at home with Murray. "Let's go find you a room, Murray," I said. All four of us went upstairs with him. "Paddy's in this room right now, but he'll be leaving in a few weeks," Tim said. "You can sleep on the third floor until he leaves. "I get my own room?" he asked. "Sure," Tim said. "If you get scared, you can sneak down and sleep with us." I looked at Kyle, and he didn't react. He probably wasn't paying attention. Justin shook his head 'no,' meaning for me not to make the same offer. Murray didn't see him, though, and he probably wouldn't have known what that meant, anyway. "You play any sports, Murray?" Justin asked. I knew my Buddy had said that just to make conversation, but anybody with half a brain could look at him and tell that Murray and sports were polar opposites. "Not really," he said. "I don't really do 'guy' things." "That's all right. Brian sucks at sports, too," Jus said. I laughed. Yeah, tease me, you jerk, I thought, but I didn't mind. We showed him the two rooms on the third floor and gave him his choice. They were pretty much identical, furnished as they both were with hotel furniture from the warehouse. He chose the one nearest the stairs, which I thought made sense. "Do you need a shower?" Kyle asked. "'Cause we're fixing to leave in a little while." He checked his watch. "Let's say we leave at seven. Is everybody cool with that?" "Yeah," Justin said. "Where are we going?" Murray asked. "There's a big fishing rodeo in town. That's where we're going," Kyle said. "Are we going fishing?" Murray asked. "No, Bubba. We're going to a party in connection with the opening of a billfish tournament," Tim said. "Where did 'rodeo' come from, Kyle?" "I thought that's what they called it. That's what I always call it. What's the difference?" Kyle asked. "I don't know if there is a difference, but it's the Emerald Coast Invitational Billfish Tournament," Tim said. "Well, whatever. Let's get cracking, though," Kyle said. * * * I had never been to anything like that fishing tournament. We had been out on Monte and Terry's boat a bunch of times, and that thing was nice. But there were boats there that were absolutely incredible. We went into the party area when we first got there. Kevin and Rick were there with Kyle's parents and Tim's parents, and I could tell that was high society. There were waiters walking around offering trays of food. I had seen that before a few times, but I was used to the basic buffet concept like we always did at our parties. We said hello to all the parents and introduced Murray to them. He actually handled himself pretty well during all of that, too, although he really didn't say anything. As I looked around, I realized how incredibly out of place Murray was in his clothes. If he had taken a shower, he had put the same thing back on. Tim and I had already talked about it, and he and I weren't going to let Murray out of our sight. There were a ton of people there. Many of them had on matching shirts to indicate which boat they were part of, and I thought about our shirts that said "Crew of The Clay" on them. "When we come back, we need to wear our crew shirts," I said to Kyle. "Oh, cool, Brian. Damn, I wish I had thought of that," he said. "Let's go home and get 'em." "Go home? Are you out of your fucking mind, Kyle? It took us forty-five minutes to get here on that damn bus. It'll take us two hours to get home and get back, and by then the party will be over," Justin said. "Yeah, you're right," Kyle said. "Tomorrow night, though, okay?" "I'm all about tomorrow night," Jus said. "We need to get some more of those shirts, too. Denny and Paddy and Murray need 'em." Kyle went into his "thought stance": right arm crossed over his chest, left elbow propped onto his right wrist, and left thumbnail working the space between his middle bottom teeth. He stayed that way for a half of a minute. "I know where I can get some more tomorrow," he said. "We're going to all get fresh ones, though. I don't really know where mine are." "I know where they are," Tim said. "They're in the closet at my house." "But still, they all need to be the same," he said. "Let's get a drink and go for a little walk. There's plenty to see here." We had all had a good bit to eat by then. We went for a walk around the marina. Just as Kyle had said, there were parties on lots of boats, and the first one we came to, the people invited us to come on board. We already had drinks that we had brought with us, but they insisted we eat. So we did. It was like that on boat after boat. "Do all these people live here?" Justin asked. "No. Look at what it says on the boat," Kyle said. "See, that one's from Nassau. That one there's from Biloxi. That one over there is from Baltimore." "They must get people from all over the place," Justin said. "Yeah, it's like a party circuit. They have these rodeos all over the damn place, and people get involved and go from place to place," he said. "These look like some rich people to me," Jus said. "Oh, yeah. This is big money," Kyle said. "You see this thing right here," he said, pointing to a boat. "That's a couple of million, at least." "How come y'all ain't got one like this?" Justin asked. "'Cause my mama hates boats, that's why," Kyle said. "Plus, we're working people. We can't be going off somewhere every week just to fish." "Fuck you, Kyle. Working people, my ass," Justin said. Kyle bowed up a little bit. "You ever know of a time when me or my daddy didn't work? Huh?" "No, I'll give you that. Y'all work. In fact, y'all work harder than I would," Jus said. "This is a stupid-ass argument, Justin. You suck me into shit like this all the time," Kyle said. "First of all, I don't consider this an argument, Kyle. And second, I didn't suck you into anything. I just don't think of you and your parents as working class. That's all," Jus said. Murray's eyes were wide. "I didn't say we were working class. I said we were working people. There's a difference," Kyle said. Just when Justin was revving up for his next line, Tim stepped in. "Stop it," he said to Kyle, looking right into his face. "How many drinks have you had?" "This is my second one," Kyle said. "What about you?" Tim asked Justin. "The same," he said. "I want you both to shake hands and shut up," Tim said. Kyle and Justin grinned at each other and at Tim. They shook hands, and that was the end of it. I knew from experience that it took quite a bit more than one drink, plus part of a second one, for them to get even a little drunk, especially with as much as they had been eating, but I was glad Tim did what he did. The four of us were going to be together for the rest of our lives, if the good Lord said the same, and I figured that was far from the last encounter of that kind. |