Lester's Auto Repair and Stories

On a hot summer day, the last thing I need is for my car air conditioner to quit on me. In this town, there is only one mechanic whom I trust. I open the door to the PT Cruiser and I am nearly knocked to the ground by the blast of heat that meets me like a punch in the face. I sit down, insert the key, and the engine comes to life with a simple twist of the wrist. The electronic thermometer which sits in the dashboard reads one-hundred eighteen.
I make one last desperate attempt to activate the air conditioner, but it mocks me and blows a steady stream of hot air like a turbo charged hairdryer. I check all of the settings just in case I might have moved something or turned something off somehow. I know deep down inside that I have everything set right, but I reset the controls again. Perhaps I can awaken it somehow, but after five-minutes and a considerable amount of sweat, the harsh reality is all too apparent. I am going to have to drive to Lester’s repair shop and suffer whatever damage he will no doubt inflict upon my wallet.
During the twenty minute drive, I have the feeling that I have become an object of scrutiny by most of the other drivers. Some of them point at me and laugh from behind their glass enclosures, encased in cool air, while sweat drips down my face.
Lester’s shop is in the middle of a crumbling row a dilapidated garage’s. His is the busiest by far or so it would appear. A rusty chain-link fence surrounds at least a dozen or so vehicles, while some other unfortunate ones remain on the dirt apron outside, covered in dust.
I leave my car outside and walk through the gate past the cars parked on either side of a cracked driveway, which is large enough to allow one car up to the repair area. The generous amount of shade and an electric fan, as large as a truck tire, offers welcome relief from the oppressive heat. There are two cars pulled into the shaded area, engine hoods up on both of them. I take advantage of the huge fan and step in front of it to dry off the back of my sweat soaked shirt.
As the hurricane force air blows past me, it is apparent that I am alone except for a lone vending machine which dispenses ice-cold soda. I insert a dollar bill into the red monolith, only to have it returned to me. After four attempts with this mechanical prankster, it finally takes pity upon me and accepts the tired dollar bill. Upon making my selection at a cost of seventy-five cents, the machine decides the soda is worth one dollar, and silently refuses to return my change. I consider searching for an appropriate tool to extract my change, but after carefully calculating the amount of exertion necessary force the machine to yield my quarter, I decide the best course to take, is to call the transaction even and enjoy the cold drink.
A cracked, paint peeling, wooden door to the right of the soda machine opens and through it emerges Lester. He’s tall and looks a bit like Abraham Lincoln, a rather dirtier, greasier version however. He wipes his hands with his ever present red rag, and gives me a welcome smile.
“Whadaya doing here, Joe?”
“I’m looking for a new sofa. What do you think I’m doing here? I need your help; my air-conditioner’s broken.”
“As you can see, I’m kinda busy today. Why don’t you bring it back next week?”
“Next week! I’ll probably have heat stroke by then. Come on, Lester; just take a quick look at it. Maybe it’s something simple. What do you say?”
He stands there wiping his permanently dirty, calloused hands while he ponders my request. “All right, bring it up here and I’ll have a look. No promises though.”
“You’re the best, Lester, thanks.”
I sprint to my car fearing he might change his mind before I can get it up to him. I silently pray it’s something easy, and he can fix it now. He waves me into position and then gives me the signal to shut it off. I pop the hood, and he begins to examine the engine compartment like a Crime Scene Investigator. I begin to exit the car, but he orders me stay put.
“Start it up.”
I twist the key and the engine fires up. He continues his analysis for a few minutes, then he asks me to turn on the air. I turn the dial and push the appropriate buttons, but there is no change. Hot air pours out of the vents and increases the temperature to the point where I must get out.
You know things are bad in your car, when it is over a hundred degrees outside and it feels cool when you step out into it. I join Lester at the front of my car and we both stand shoulder to shoulder as we stare at the uncooperative motor. I have no idea of what I am looking at. I can’t even see anything moving although the motor is clearly running. His silence speaks volumes while my mind races with terrible, expensive, scenarios. Maybe the compressor is shot or perhaps the whole unit is no good. In that case, do I have to get a whole new car? There’s no way I can live without an air-conditioned car.
Finally his silence is broken. I hold my breath and brace myself for the worst.
“You gotta a broken belt.”
I could have hugged him, but I’m sure he would have thought me crazy, so I instead went to the next logical step.
“I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid. I’ve been driving around like this for a week, fearing the worst, and it’s nothing more than a belt. Can you fix it today?”
Now I’m pushing it, but I have nothing to lose.
“I can fix it, but I don’t have the belt you need. I’ll call the supply store and have them drop one off.”
That could take hours, what am I to do in the meantime? I’ve got it! “I could drive up to the store and get it for you. That would be much faster.”
“Relax will you? I want the car to cool off, and besides, I want to show something. Come inside with me.”
I’ve never been inside the building before; perhaps he wants to show me a new tool or something like that. I follow him through the old wooden door, past his desk which is piled high with papers, reference books, parts catalogues and a worn out old black phone. The numbers are barely legible after years of use with grimy fingers.
We continue our trek through the office, down a dingy hall to a brown, wooden, padlocked door. He produces a key ring that probably weighs five-pounds from all of the keys he has on it. He goes directly to one of them and inserts it into the lock. It snaps open like a jack in the box. He throws open the hasp and opens the door to a dark, surprisingly cool room.
Light filters in along the floor at the opposite side of the room from the bottom of two garage doors. I guess the room to be at least one-hundred feet deep and probably twice as wide.
He reaches inside and flicks a light switch. Six fluorescent light fixtures blink to life and reveal a sparkling clean, freshly painted garage, filled with cars and boats, neatly angle parked. In front of each display sits a music stand with a thin book resting upon each one of them.
“Come on in and let me show you around.”
He cautions me to wipe my feet on the coarse welcome mat before I enter.
“What is this place, Lester?”
“This is my collection of interesting vehicles. Every one of them has its own story, and I’ve placed them in those music stands in front of each one.”
He nods his head in self approval. “Sometimes, when it’s really quiet, you can almost hear them telling their stories.”
I am stunned, almost to the point of paralysis by the impressive display. Who knew? “I have to tell you, Lester, I am amazed. These cars and boats look like they just came off the showroom floor. Do they run?”
“Some of them, but not that one.” He points to a twenty-foot bow rider boat. It is a versatile type of boat which has the walk through windshield feature to accommodate two people on the bow while providing seating for four others behind the windshield. There’s a sixty horsepower outboard motor on the back and a boarding ladder next to it.
“So what’s the story with this?”
He points to the music stand in front of it. “Pick up the book and read it. Meanwhile I’ll order your part, and get back to work on those other two cars. Relax and enjoy it.”
I pick up the thin book and open it, while Lester exits the garage and quietly closes the door.
The book has a glossy cover bearing only the title.





I awoke from the dream crying her name; for a moment it was just another nightmare, but soon the awful truth consumed me utterly. My beautiful Samantha was gone. I was now just a waste of flesh, waiting for the day to end.
I was unable to go on with everyday life. The ever present hollowness inside me was too great. Loneliness had taken the place of happiness. My broken heart could only be made whole by the reunion of Joseph and Samantha.
My eyelids were becoming heavy again and drowsiness was beginning to take hold. I fought to stay awake, but in the end sleep would always win and the dream would take me where I did not want to go. I could only hope that this time would be different....
* * *

It was a typical summer day on the east coast of central Florida. The ocean was calm and flat, a good day to go off shore a couple of miles and do some fishing, since there are many coral reefs within sight of land.
“Sultry Samantha” is the name of our boat. It is a white twenty-foot tri-hull bow rider with four seats in the main area and two seats in the bow area beyond a walk-through windshield; a sixty horse outboard is mounted on the back. The boat was loaded with sodas and sandwiches, a bucket of live bait and new tackle. Today was going to be a great day.
“Are we going to be out here all day?” Samantha always asked that question when she was bored, usually about thirty minutes after I begin fishing. “We won’t be out here all day; you know we always go in early during the summer.” I answered.
If I were alone, I would probably stay out all day, but I liked having her with me and staying out all day would be out of the question, besides, there is a thunderstorm almost every afternoon during the summer.
The fishing was slow, but I was trying hard. Suddenly, as if someone turned off the lights, a pop-up thunderstorm seemed to come out of nowhere.
I blame myself. I was too busy fishing to look around as I should have.
Clouds were building, becoming larger and blacker. Thunder could be heard and the storm headed straight toward us. There was six miles of ocean between us and the safety of shore.
The ocean was already beginning to boil by the time I pulled up the anchor and started the motor. The winds had gone from zero to nearly forty miles per hour. The six miles of ocean had now become a horrific seascape of moving mountains that threatened to pick us up as high as a three story house and throw us into valleys of angry churning water.
I turned the bow of the Sultry Samantha west, directly into the wind and the endless rows of mountainous waves. Lightning was shooting down like accusing fingers from swirling black clouds overhead, while thunder boomed all around us.
“Are we going to be all right?” Samantha cried.
“Yes. It’s going to be fine,” I answered trying to give myself hope. “Just hold on to the sides of the seat.” I held my breath as we crossed the top of each wave. I throttled the motor up and down to keep us ahead of the breaking water. I could barely see as the rain, the splashing, and salty foam blew off the white capped waves, drenching me.
Sultry Samantha proceeded well despite of the conditions. Only three miles to go, but the way the ocean was convulsing, the three miles seemed more like thirty. Land however, was in sight and soon this nightmare would be over.
The inlet could be seen clearly now, and the storm was finally starting to pass. Without warning, there was a blinding flash of light and a tremendous explosion; a direct strike. The outboard stalled, and when my eyes cleared, I was shocked to find my wife missing. I looked in the water all around the board, but she was nowhere to be found. I quickly tied a rope around my waist and secured the other end to the boat. I dove into the water, desperately searching under the surface for my beloved wife. The storm was calming now and the tide was pushing me to shore. My wife was gone and so was my reason to live.
I woke from the dream each time, dripping wet with sweat, always drawn to the same place. My life had come to a complete standstill. I could go no further.


I decided to return to the place where the sea and the sky had conspired to take my Samantha from me, a place that had brought great despair to my life. A place I was sure I would hate forever.
As I walked along the bank of the inlet, I looked out over the water. Pelicans glided through the air just inches above the water. A great blue heron, a tall, thin, long-legged bird standing three feet in height, was wading in the shallows, while sea gulls played tag in the air and squawked at each other. The air was fresh and warm. How could a place of such beauty be the scene of such tragedy?
I was deep in these thoughts when a school of bait fish began leaping out of the water, scattering in all directions. There was definitely something big down below. As I looked on, birds were descending on the fish. There was a great disturbance at the surface. Suddenly, the water parted and a full grown killer whale rocketed out of the water ten feet into the air and came crashing back down with a huge splash that sent water thirty feet in every direction.
The sight of this creature was absolutely amazing! The whale was as big as a school bus, six thousand pounds of grace and beauty. It spotted me standing on the bank and headed straight towards me. I’ve seen nature films where killer whales lunged out of the water and took seals right off the beach and ate them, and this whale had taken aim for me. I grabbed a rock that was on the ground next to me and got ready to throw it at this giant, but the whale suddenly stopped dead still.
I froze, staring right into one of the eyes of the whale, right into the very soul of the creature. That’s when a feeling of familiarity came over me. It was only then that I realized it wasn’t charging me at all. It had come to get a better look. This whale knew me just as well as I knew it. There was no way to explain it, but deep down inside me, I knew this whale was my Samantha.
I wondered if Samantha knew who I was or if she just felt the kind of bond I felt for her. She drifted back about fifteen feet from me and let her tail drop down so that she was in a vertical position with about one fourth of her body out of the water.
She was nodding her head forward and backwards, her mouth open. I had no idea what she wanted. As I tried to think, she slipped under the water and disappeared. I didn’t want her to go away. I wanted her to come back now! As that thought passed through my mind, she returned to the exact same place, spraying me with water from her mouth. As the water drenched me, five rocks fell at my feet. They were the same size as the rock that was still in my hand. I finally caught on. I threw the rock at her and she caught it with ease. She took off excitedly, swirling around in circles and diving through the water.
She returned to the same spot for another rock. So, catch was the name of the game that we played all day. I made the game progressively harder with each throw. She amazed me by meeting every challenge. Once, I threw one completely out of her range. She countered by spraying me with gallons of water from her mouth.
We were both exhausted as the sun began to sink into the western sky. The puffy white clouds overhead began to take on a soft pink hue. I sat on a sandy spot that gently sloped down to the water’s edge. Samantha slowly cruised up to me until her head; all the way back to her dorsal fin was on the beach. We were now face to face and close enough to touch. If she wanted to, she could easily have picked me up and made a meal of me, yet this huge creature was so very gentle. Just as Samantha was. Her skin was warm and smooth, just like always. At that moment I reached out and held her. It was a most beautiful feeling as the clouds overhead were now changing to a deep crimson. The only sounds were the rippling waves lapping at her body and her quiet breathing. All that was left of the day was the faint crimson and orange glow that marked a final farewell from the sun. The sky had now turned a deep dark purple that would soon give way to the eventual dark of night.
I was saddened by the thought of going to our separate worlds, neither able to stay in each other’s world for very long. To do so would mean certain death. I never wanted to be away from her again.
We repeated that wonderful day many times. I would always try to sneak up on her and catch her by surprise, but it would never work. She would always see me coming with those big eyes of hers. She would signal my arrival by darting through the water at high speed and leaping into the air. I cherished every moment that we spent together but at the end of each day, the sadness would grow stronger.
The sadness began to build up in me like steam in a boiler. I was no longer happy spending part of the day with Samantha. I wanted to be with her ‘round the clock.
I missed her so much. Desperation was taking over. I was willing to do anything, and at that moment I devised my plan, which I hoped would take me to Samantha forever.







The Sultry Samantha glided off the trailer effortlessly onto the waters of the inlet. I got in and headed the boat out to the ocean. The conditions were perfect. Thunder could already be heard, and bright streaks of lightning could be seen in the distant west. I was heading east and the storm was coming from behind me. By the time I reached the ocean, it would overtake me, trapping me offshore.
My plan was simple. I would challenge the powers that took Samantha to take me as well; so I might be with her forever.
The ocean had again returned to its hideous form. I was just a tiny dot in this mountain range of ocean. Samantha shot through the waves, trying to turn me back. She risked sinking me with her warnings, but I wouldn’t be stopped. Lightning struck all around me. I looked back at her just as a tremendous surge of electricity shot through my chest. My back arched forward and them slammed back down on a bed, which turned out to be a gurney.




Somewhere in the darkness I could hear a faint beeping, equally spaced, one beep per second. It was a smooth and rhythmic beeping, but now I could hear voices.
“Blood pressure, one ten over sixty, pulse seventy, respiration twenty, I think he’s going to be all right, doctor.”
The doctor checked the heart monitor and saw that my heart was operating normally. He looked at the nurse and said, “He is a very lucky man to have a wife like his. She knew how to handle that boat and bring him in to shore. He was certainly in no shape after being hit with a bolt of lightning.”
Could I be hearing right? I was beginning to see blurry images now. Objects were slowly coming into focus.
“Doctor, he’s awake!” said the smiling nurse.
The doctor shined a light into my eyes and asked me my name, which I knew immediately. Then he said, “Joe, you are in Cape Canaveral hospital. You’re very lucky to be here. Your wife brought your boat back to shore after you were knocked out by a lightning strike. You went into cardiac arrest when you got here. We resuscitated you, but you remained in a coma for two days. You went into cardiac arrest again a few minutes ago, and we had to shock your heart to start it up again. It looks like you’re going to be all right now. Get some rest, and I’ll be back to see how you’re feeling.”
I was completely dumbstruck. Where was Samantha?
The smiling nurse re-entered the room and poured a cup of water for me. “Joe, there’s someone here who can’t wait to see you. I think she’s the bravest girl in the world.”
I would have jumped for joy if I wasn’t hooked up to the monitors. Samantha walked in looking like an angel. She is the most beautiful girl I ever saw. Without her I would be nothing. I love her, and together our love saved my life.
She stood over me and brushed my hair back with her fingers. She looked tired, probably from lack of sleep due to her worry about me. A lump grew in my throat and tears welled up in my eyes. She is my hero and I wanted to let her know.
“You took over everything when I was unable to take care of myself. I always knew I could depend on you. Thank you for being there for me. You’re my guardian angel. I will always love you, forever.”
Samantha and I will be returning to our favorite place again, but this time I’ll check with the weatherman.



I stand there staring at the boat when I finish the story. What a wonderful adventure this vessel had encountered. I wonder whatever became of Joe and Samantha?

I close the book and return it to the music stand exactly the way I found it, and then look at the other items in Lester’s collection.
I select a gleaming black sixty-six Chevy Super Sport. I remove the accompanying book. It is constructed exactly as the other with its glossy cover. I hold the book in my hand as I stroll around the car. I remember riding in a car like this when I was a younger man. Back then you could ride all night on two dollars worth of gas.
This vehicle is in showroom condition. I anxiously opened the book to learn of its secret life.
This one is titled:











The black Chevy Super Sport comes to a stop in front of the Adobe style house in Henderson City, Nevada. The driver, dressed in jeans, a white sleeveless T-shirt and black leather jacket, blows the horn and yells out the open window. “Come on, Amy, let’s go!”
The slender brunette dressed in a peasant blouse and bell bottom jeans dashes to the gleaming car and hops in. The driver instantly puts his right arm around her and plants a sloppy wet kiss on the surprised young girl.
“What’s all the excitement? The whole neighborhood heard you.”
“We’re going to Vegas baby.” The rear wheels spit bluish gray smoke and emit an ear-piercing squeal as they spin against the hot asphalt, and propel the heavy car toward the end of the street. Some of the bystanders hurl insults at the speeding car, but they are lost in the cacophony of the busy street and the rock and roll music which blasts from the car stereo system.

“Oh, Joe, that sounds so exciting, but what are we going to do when we get
there?”
“I don’t know, maybe we’ll get married or something. What do you say?” “Joe, you’re so crazy. My father will go nuts if I marry you.”
“Come on, Amy, you’re nineteen now, are you going to live with your daddy all of your life? Do you do everything he tells you? I want us to get out on our own.”
“What are we going to live on? You don’t even have a job.”

I smile and give her a wink. “Don’t worry; I’ll get a job after we’re married. You’ll see. We’ll get a nice little place, you know, something cozy. That’s all we need.”
“All right, let me think for a minute.” She gazes out the window as she ponders my offer. “You’re right, I can’t stay at home forever, and you do love me don’t you, Joe?”
“Sure, baby, you know I’m crazy about you. So are you in?”

“I’ll follow you wherever you go. My answer is yes! Let’s do this.”

I lean over and kiss her. I don’t even bother to slow the car down. I’m crazy about Amy.
She’s so full of life. She could be with anybody she wants to, but she
chose me. She’s the only girl I’ll change for; I’ll make a good life for us. Maybe we’ll have a couple of kids too. I just have to get my hands on some quick money, and I know just the place. I’ve been casing this place out for weeks. The Nevada State Bank. I pull past the bank about a hundred feet and parks at the corner so no one can block me in while I do my business.
“What are we doing here?”
“I have to make a withdrawal, just sit tight ‘till I get back, okay?”
“Since when do you have a bank account?”
“Oh, I’ve had it for a while now. I’ve got a couple hundred in there.”

“You are full of surprises, Joe.”
She starts to get out of the car, but I can’t let her go in the bank with me.
“Just wait here, baby. I won’t be long.”

“I’ll wait for you, but you have to give me a kiss to hold me ‘till you get back.”
“Okay, but I have to get my bank book out of the trunk first.”


The key glides into the lock, and the trunk opens with a squeak. I lift up the spare tire, and grab my gun from under it. I slide it into the inside pocket of my jacket, then slam the lid down. Beads of sweat form on my forehead as I walk to her side of the car. I’m going to make her so happy.
“I’m here to deliver a kiss to Miss Amy.” She closes her eyes and purses her lips. She looks like an angel, the complete opposite of me. I press my lips on hers, and I smell her sweet perfume. I take her scent with me as I stand before the glass double doors.
My heart races with nervousness, and sweat drips down my back. I push one of the doors open and step inside. I stroll over to the self help desk where the deposit and withdrawal slips are kept. I remove a pen from one of holders; it’s attached to the desk by one of those beaded metal chains. It dances around the top of the desk, making a tapping sound as I pretend to write out a withdrawal slip. I gaze around the room to make sure no one is watching me while I size up the situation. Only four customers and two tellers, this is going to be easy! The gun feels heavy, like a lead weight in my jacket. I reach inside and wrap my sweaty hand around it as I quickly take one last look around.
My heart pounds as if it’s about to punch its way out of my chest as the moment for action arrives. I pull out the gun, aim at the ceiling and squeeze the trigger. The gun explodes to life with smoke and a flash of flame. Plaster and dust fall from the hole like snow, while everyone screams and looks my way. The customers run out the doors leaving one of them jammed open, that’s okay, I just want the money, I don’t want to hurt anyone.
The tellers stand motionless, like mannequins while they await my orders. “All right you two, you know what this is. Just put all the money in a bag and give it to me. That’s all you have to do, and I’ll just be on my way.”
The gun is getting slippery from my sweaty hands. It’s so damn hot in here.
I wonder what’s taking them so long. I guess I’m going to have to hurry them along.
I point the gun in their direction. “Let’s go! I don’t have all day.” The tellers move as if in slow motion. My heart pounds like a sledge-hammer, my mouth is as dry as paper.
Sirens wail in the distance, and grow louder by the second. I walk towards the window to take a look outside. Suddenly a door slams shut. Those sneaky tellers slipped out somehow, but that’s fine, I’ll get the money myself.
As I run towards the counter, the sound of screaming tires coming to a halt fills the air. I look out the window in time to see four cop cars screech to a stop right in front of the door. I guess Amy knows I probably don’t have an account by now.
Six cops with guns drawn, cautiously approach the bank. One of them has a bull horn, and he puts it to use immediately.
“You inside, this is the Clark County sheriffs department. You are surrounded and alone. I order you to lay down your weapon and come out with your hands up. You have twenty seconds to comply.”
Twenty seconds. That doesn’t exactly give me much time to figure out my options. Six cops versus me and five bullets, pretty bad odds. When the judge gets a look at my record, he’ll give me twenty years, easy. That’s a long time to ask Amy to wait.
Her father didn’t like me right from the start. He thought I was a bum, but he was wrong. I tried to do the right thing. This was going to be my last bank job. I never had a problem before, who knew this crummy little place was going to turn out this way.
I drop the gun at my feet and kick it to the door. I tried to make it go outside, but it stops just inside. The bull horn is barking orders again.
“You have five seconds left.”
Poor Amy, she actually believes in me. She almost made me believe in myself, but I’m just not cut-out that way. She’ll be much better off without me. Maybe she’ll be more careful the next time.
There’s a crowd gathering out there. They’ve all come to see me off. Off to twenty, maybe thirty years for all I know.
As I walk towards the door, I see the gun, still laying there. I can still smell her perfume, and her lipstick. That’s something I’ll always remember.
“Time’s up.”
He’s right. My time is up. I can’t go to jail for twenty years, and I don’t want anyone waiting for me either. The gun is right at my feet.
“Kick the gun out here, now!”
I look the bull horn toting cop right in the eye.
I reach down and grab the...





That was the last page of the book. A tragic story to be sure, but I find it odd that in both stories; the male character’s name was Joe, just like me. Freaky!
I move next to a silver convertible Chrysler Sebring. It wasn’t very old, perhaps only a few years, but since it was here, there must be something special about it.
I walk all the way around it and try to guess what story it had to tell. Was it involved in a murder? Or was it something happy. Maybe the previous owner hit the lottery or something like that.
The corresponding glossy book awaits.
The title:


















The shiny convertible pulled into the nearest available parking space, just as it has nearly every Sunday for the past thirteen years. He sat there for a moment listening while one of his favorite songs came to an end. When it was over, he turned off the air-conditioner and the engine, then got out. It was eight-thirty in the morning, and the sun was already roasting everything it touched, including him; just another typical Fall morning in Florida. He hated going to the nursing home. A building filled with residents who were now mere hollow shells of who they used to be, his mother one among them. As he signed his name to the visitors’ log, he reflected upon his own life. A life filled with pain misery and a seemingly endless parade of misadventures. As a child, he grew up the hard way, with regular beatings at the hands of his father. His mother chose not to intervene lest she become the object of his wrath. All children need discipline from time to time, but in many cases the discipline was sheer brutality. At the age of thirteen, Christmas and birthdays ceased to be celebrated. His mother took out her frustrations upon him also; she never conveyed warmth or affection towards him. At the age of nineteen, he was free of them. Yet the scars remained.
All of this negative reinforcement possibly steered him to a wild life of drugs, theft, imprisonment, broken marriages, and despair.
There was the occasional bright spot, such as the birth of his daughter, and a couple of recognitions from one of his employers. The best of which, for using a crane to save a man’s life who was seriously injured while working the graveyard shift on an aircraft carrier.
Twenty years ago, his life took a significant turn for the better. Fate intervened and took his life to a new place, somewhere he had never been before. A place of true happiness, honesty, and dare I say it. True love, the kind of love that only comes around once in a lifetime. At first he feared it, but as time went on he learned to trust it. His wife became the most loving and loyal person he had ever met. He feels privileged and honored to be her husband, and over the years she has calmed him, and he is a better man because of her.
Today as he did nearly every Sunday for the past thirteen years, he will visit his mother, and attempt to cheer her spirit. As he walks past the wheelchair bound residents, he smiles and waves and wishes them good morning.
A simple act of kindness that will be forgotten in mere seconds, once he enters his mother’s room.
“Hi mom! How are you feeling today?” She looks up from her breakfast tray. A plastic knife in her left hand, as she struggles to spread butter on her toast. “Hi Joe.”
“Why are you still in bed?”
“I had a dizzy spell yesterday. They say it’s because I’m pregnant.”
“Mom, you know darn well you’re not pregnant. You’re not even married anymore.”
“I know, and I told them that. They’re nuts around here.”
“Yeah, I know they are. It’s been a long time since you got pregnant, and look what happened. You wound up with a big galoot.”
She chuckled, “Yeah, a big galoot.”
“Let me help you with that.” He spreads the butter and cuts the toast into small squares. After all of these years, he felt happy of how his life has turned out so far. “Mom.” She looked straight into his eyes. “I’m happy you had me.”
For the first time in his life, and without breaking her gaze, she uttered.
“I’m happy I had you too, Joe.”
She went back to eating her breakfast.
Meanwhile, a wave of emotion swept over him. This little wrinkled woman, who had always resided in a dark place in his heart, had finally reached out and touched him in a way he had never known before. And there, in the fall of his fifty-seventh year, his scars were finally swept away. It had simply been, the nicest thing she ever said to him, and she never even knew it.




The entitled:




The entitled:




The Trip












Again, the character in the story is named Joe. I’m glad he found the strength to forgive her.
I stroll along the aisle to something I wished I could fit in my budget. It is a twenty-eight foot offshore fishing boat. It has ample cabin space, large enough to sleep two quite comfortably. I have to get up on my toes to peer through the oblong shaped portholes into the cabin. It is well appointed with a bunk bed a small galley and a stand up shower.
The outer hull is sleek white fiberglass. The stainless steel anchor sparkles under the lighting. Twin two-hundred horsepower outboard engines sit at the stern, which propel two three blade propellers.
I’m tempted to climb aboard, by way of the boarding ladder and swim platform, but I don’t want to take advantage of Lester’s trust.
If only I could have such a vessel. What am I saying? I could never afford to put gas in a boat this large. It probably holds a hundred gallons of fuel or more.
I guess I’ll have to settle with reading the book about this amazing boat.
I pluck the book from the stand and gaze at the title:






I hold the gold wedding band in my hand when I pull up to Dorothy’s house in Cocoa Beach. The glint from it catches my eye, and I read the simple inscription inside: “Claude + Dorothy 1974”. I was twenty-two that year, single with no direction whatsoever. Who knew I would end up here all those years ago?
I look to my best friend and ask, “What do we do now, Spider?” He just looks at me with that “I don’t know?” look on his face as he cocks his head to one side. I never really expected the Old English sheepdog to answer, but after what I had just been through, you never know.
Spider has been my only friend since my divorce seven years ago; today will be my first social contact since. I check my appearance, the take spider by the leash and head for her door. I wanted to drop the ring in the mailbox, but I won’t go back on my promise to Claude.
I walk up to the entrance and open the screen door. There’s a brass door knocker shaped like an anchor which I put to use immediately. After about thirty seconds I reach for the knocker again, but before I could use it, the door opens a crack.
A female voice calls out to me. “What do you want?”
“I came here to talk to you about Claude. I’m Joe; I spoke to you on the phone earlier today.”
“Yeah, you said you’re a friend of his.”
A wave of relief swept over me. “Yes! That’s right.”
The door opens a little more, so I can see her hair and half of her face, the other half is darkened with shadow. “If you are his friend like you say you are, you would know he’s been missing for over twenty years. Now why don’t you tell me why you’re really here?”
“I came to give you this.” I reach into my pocket, pull out the ring and offer it to her. “Maybe it will help you to believe me?”
She takes the ring from me and then slams the door in my face. I feel like a magazine salesman standing there with the screen door pressing against my back. I should leave; I’ve delivered the ring as promised, but I can see that she’s hurt and confused two emotions which are familiar companions of mine.
The door re-opens, fully this time. Dorothy stands there shielding the afternoon sun from her eyes with one hand while still clutching the ring in the other. As I try to get a better look at her face, I spot a tear trickling down her cheek.
“Come in, Joe, please forgive my behavior. It’s just that I don’t know what happened to him. My life has been on hold ever since he disappeared. Won’t you please sit down?”
I step carefully as it takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the dark room. She points to a comfortable looking brown leather chair in the cave-like living room. Every window shade in the house is pulled down tight blocking out every bit of light. I sit down, and Spider takes his usual place next to me.
Dorothy forces a smile at me and Spider. “Excuse me.”
She walks into the kitchen behind me. I can hear cabinets open and close and the sound of running water. A few moments later, she returns with a couple of cookies and a bowl of water. She sets the water down at his feet and shows him one of the cookies. He tugs at the leash, but not too hard. He carefully takes the cookie from her open palm and devours it in four bites. She sets the others next to the water before walking to a matching leather couch to my left.
“It looks like you have a new friend, Spider.” He doesn’t even bother to look up as he polishes off the remaining treats.
She gazes at Spider as he crunches crumbs onto the tile floor.
“I love dogs.”
Spider slurps some water, walks around in a circle a couple of times then settles down beside me once more.
Her face changes dramatically when a smile is upon it. Her skin is smooth and her eyes are soft. Her shoulder length hair frames her face perfectly.
“Do you have a dog?”
“No, not anymore. We had a dog, but he died two years after Claude disappeared. I couldn’t bear to replace him.”
She breaks her gaze away from Spider and turns her full attention to me. “So, what do you have to tell me about Claude?”
My heart skips a beat at the question, but there’s no turning back at this point.
I hope my story makes her feel better. Hell, I just hope she believes me.
“What I’m about to tell you is the absolute truth. It’s a rather lengthy tale, so you should sit back and relax. You see the whole thing started four days ago…

A turn of a key brought the twin two-hundred horsepower outboards to life. It was a sunny day and the ocean was practically flat. I backed away from the dock, and when I was in the clear, I put them in forward and pointed the bow to the sea. I cruised slowly through the inlet being careful not to cause a wake. When I reached the breakwater, I throttled the engines up to seventy-five percent. The bow rose up in response to the sudden acceleration, but then leveled of nicely. I didn’t want to push the engines too hard, since this was a brand new boat. This was the first time Spider and I were alone on the ocean.
The deep-vee hull parted the two foot emerald green waves with ease, a few miles later; the green gave way to the blue of the open ocean.
I selected a wreck about twenty-five miles offshore and punched the co-ordinates into the GPS navigator. All that remained was to follow the arrow on the screen.
I took one last look back towards land which was becoming more distant with every passing moment. The twin engines where humming a mechanical harmonic melody, while the props churned the crystal blue water into snow white foam. Spider settled in at the bow. I laughed at his fortitude as the thirty mile per hour wind caused him to sneeze every couple of minutes, yet he remained, undaunted.
I pulled off my shirt with one hand; put my ball cap on backwards, locked down my sunglasses and yelled out at the top of my lungs. My buddy Spider joined in, and together we drowned out the four hundred horses at the back of the boat. It was a new high for me since until then I led a monotonous life of work and TV.
The navigator suddenly let out a loud beep, indicating a course correction which I followed exactly. A few minutes later, the navigator ordered another course correction. I thought it odd that it gave two within minutes of each other, but I didn’t have the manual with me, so I had to rely on the technology.
About an hour into the trip, the navigator indicated that I had arrived at my destination. I throttled the motors down to idle speed, then turned my attention to the video depth finder. The boat was in ninety feet of water. I turned the wheel to starboard and began a slow lazy circle. My gaze remained fixed upon the video screen for the next five minutes until the image of a large structure appeared on the screen. I had finally found my wreck. I was filled with pride and self satisfaction since this was my first attempt. Now for the real fun to begin.
The anchor hit the water with a loud splash which startled Spider. He peered over the bow and barked at the rising bubbles. When the rope stopped paying out, I tied it off to a cleat. It was then that an uneasy feeling came over me when I realized that there was not one other boat, all the way out to the horizon. And when I say horizon, I mean any horizon. Perhaps this wasn’t a good spot? I wondered, but no matter, my boat was sound, unsinkable as a matter of fact, but being alone on the ocean is something that takes getting used to I imagine.
My question as to whether this spot was any good or not was answered just thirty seconds after dropping my baited hook off the back of the boat. My rod bent hard and I responded instantly by pulling up and took five quick cranks on the reel, hopefully clearing the fish from any obstructions that it would certainly try to tangle the line on. Big fish are very clever, that’s how they got so big. That drag and tangle strategy has left many of us with no choice, but to break it off and start over again.
That was not the case this time however. Sweat dripped into my sunglasses as I continued to struggle with my powerful adversary, both of us was equally determined.
I had my rhythm now, pulling up and cranking down to just about a foot above the water. I was winning the battle three feet at a time, but ten minutes after it started, the fish lay on my deck, an unbelievable twenty pound black grouper.
My body was drenched with sweat and my arms ached, but I wouldn’t trade that feeling for anything. During those ten minutes, nothing else mattered.
I iced down my most worthy opponent, closed the lid on the built in fish box then declared:
“Break time, Spider. How about a drink?” I poured ice cold water into a bowl and then helped myself to a ginger ale. After Spider lapped up his drink, he found a cozy spot in the shaded offered by the Bimini top which covered the entire bridge area.
Meanwhile I prepared for battle once again. I dropped my hook off the back once again, and like before, another hard hit. After four hours, I was exhausted, but satisfied. I had boated eight fish, all of them in the twenty pound class. There was Black grouper, Cobia, Amberjack, King mackerel, hell it was as if they were down there waiting just for me. What a day!
It was getting late, so I decided to head in, but that’s when my fortunes changed. I cursed, I banged on the control panel, I committed every immature act a person could commit, but no matter how hard I tried, the engines would not start. They wouldn’t even crank, they just sat there, lifeless. I removed the engine covers, but that was an act of desperation since I had no idea of what I was looking at.
My stomach began to tighten, and my heart began to pound. The though t of being stranded out there was becoming all too real. It was five-thirty, it would be dark in two hours, but then I had a brain storm. I went to the radio and jerked the mike out of its cradle; however my bright idea was soon crushed out like a stale cigarette. The radio was dead, in fact, everything was dead.
I looked in every direction, my throat tightened and my heart pounded with panic. Even if I could get the radio going, I had no idea of where I was. I would have freaked out if it weren’t for Spider. He sat up and laid his paws in my lap, which brought me out of my panic. Poor little guy was in my charge and there I was acting like a child. He let out a little whimper, which meant he was hungry. I opened the cooler, there was one lone sandwich siting there, so I gave it to him. After all, none of this was his fault, and besides, my friend, Mister Jack Daniels would take care of me. He would help me forget my troubles and allow me to sleep through the night which was closing upon me quickly.
I fixed myself a J.D. and ginger ale and gave Spider a fresh bowl of water. He walked in circles for a minute or so before he finally settled for a spot near the cabin door. I patted him on the head, bid him goodnight, and then went down below. Half a bottle later, I was ready for sleep. As I dozed off, Spider began barking his head off. I yelled up at him to keep quiet, but then I thought he might be barking at another boat that happened to be passing through this part of the ocean. I sat straight up and hit my head on the top bunk as I staggered and ripped my way on deck. I looked everywhere, but there was nothing, except for a silvery object shimmering in the water. In my drunken state, it took me about five minutes to figure out that Spider was busily barking at the reflection of the full moon. I looked at him and shook my head.
“You know better than that you crazy dog! Now go to sleep and don’t wake me up again unless you see a boat.”
He cocked his head from side to side, as if to say, “What did I do?”
I staggered back to bed, but before I could get good and comfortable, I heard loud banging coming from the back of the boat, up on deck. Once again I trekked back topside. The banging grew louder, while Spider made took off down below. I was frozen with fear as I stared at the fish boxes. I nearly jumped out of the boat when the lids began to rattle and nearly spilled onto the deck. I just stood there staring at them, when they abruptly stopped. Fear told me to go back below and cower with Spider, but my curiosity got the best of me.
I reached below the steering wheel and took hold of my flashlight. I silently crept toward the now silent fish boxes. I laid a shaking hand between them and opened them simultaneously.
An icy green fog crept from the boxes and drifted down along the stern wall to the deck. I shivered as it floated across my feet. I could see the fish through the frosty air, they seemed to be staring directly at me with their cold dead doll’s eyes, and if you know anything about me, you know dolls give me the creeps. I slammed the lids down and quickly joined Spider down below. I quickly poured myself a glass of Jack and took it down in one gulp. It knocked the chill right off me as it trickled down to my empty stomach.
I laid there with my arm over my eyes as I thought about what might happen next. Spider had no such concerns as he soundly slept on the floor next to me. The sound of gentle slashing against the hull was quite soothing; however the rocking was another matter, I had to go up on deck for some fresh air. I splashed some cool water on my face when I got up there I shined my flashlight on my watch, only two-twenty.
The night seems to go on forever when you can’t sleep. I looked into the night sky and marveled at the celestial tapestry overhead. Between the timelessness of the stars and the ocean, one can’t help but feel truly fortunate to witness such a display while realizing how insignificant we truly are. It was beautiful yet frightening at the same time when I realized I might not ever get back home.
The fresh air had done its job, my head cleared, but as I turned to go back down below, I heard splashing behind me. It was different from the other sounds around me, it had purpose, and it was heading my way. It sounded as if someone was swimming towards me. I shined my light in the direction of the sound, but saw nothing. It continued to come closer, I shined my light in all directions and still saw nothing, and it was right at the back of the boat now.
I dove down below and shut the door behind me, grabbed my tackled box and dumped it as I looked for my filet knife. I found it just as the boat leaned to starboard.
My heart was racing, my throat dry like a paper towel. My boat was being boarded; footsteps on the deck were coming towards the door. So with knife in one hand and flashlight in the other, I was ready to make my stand. Then the footsteps stopped.
I remained motionless, straining my ears to detect the slightest unusual sound, but all I heard was the gentle splashing against the hull. Incredibly, Spider was still asleep, lucky him.
I had to know what was going on, so with trembling hand, I slowly turned the doorknob. When the latch cleared, the door pulled out of my grasp, and slammed itself open. I ran up on the deck screaming like a maniac, while swing my weapons wildly. I heard something running up behind me, and before I could turn around, I was knocked to the deck. White-hot pain surged from my knees as they scraped across the sandpaper like non-skid surface.
Spider always jumped on me when he got excited, but his warm tongue felt good as he rendered first aid. While he treated my wounds, I scanned the entire deck. We were absolutely alone. I checked the time again, three a.m. the sun would be coming up around six-thirty.
Not sure of what exactly just happened; I said to Spider, “Let’s go back to bed, buddy.”
We went down below and I finally fell into a come like sleep.
The morning sun streamed into the cabin like a flaming spotlight as it roasted face. My head pounded; my mouth dry like sand on a hot beach. I cursed the nearly empty bottle of Jack as I stumbled out of my rack. Spider was on deck in the brilliant sunlight, relieving himself against the transom. I went on deck to join him and looked at the lifeless motors while I did my business overboard. There had to be a logical reason for the power failure.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight out as a voice right behind me asked. “Did you check the battery connection?”
My eyes nearly popped out of my head as I nearly jumped overboard. I quickly zipped up. And when I turned around, there sitting on the bow was a translucent young man. I glanced down at Spider, but he didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary.
Maybe I’m just hallucinating? I thought to myself.
“ ‘Fraid not, dude.” The voice said.
“This isn’t happening!” I repeated several times.
“Oh it’s happening alright turn around and take a look, I ain’t that bad.” The voice implored.
“Okay, just give me a minute.” When I turned around, he was standing no more than two feet away, with his nose pushed up with one hand and his lower eyelids pulled down with the other.
Somehow I managed a chuckle. Mostly because I was sure I had gone crazy, but what the hell, I might as well go with it.“Oh, that’s supposed to scare me?”
“Come on, man! I’m just messin’ with yah. What the hell, I scared you enough last night. What was up with the flashlight and filet knife? Man, that was nuts!”
“Ha, ha, very funny. Why did you do all of those things to me?”
“You’re my first visitor. I was just havin’ some fun with yah’ that’s all.”
“Not from where I’m standing.”
I was becoming nauseous so I went to my cooler. All that remained of the ice was a shallow pool of cool water. I poured some for Spider, which he lapped up immediately, then I scooped out a cupful for me. The water caused my empty stomach bubble and cramp, and I doubled over in pain.
“What’s wrong, man?” he asked.
Ghost or no ghost, he was pissing me off now. “Stop calling me man! My name is Joe!”
“Yeah, sure, cool it, Joe. My name’s Claude. Pleasure meetin’ you.”
He offered me his hand, and I instinctively reached for it, but mine passed right through his, giving me a cold clammy feeling.
Claude laughed and shook his head. “Sorry ‘bout that, Joe. That’s one of the problems about being a ghost, you can’t touch earthly things.”
I stood and absorbed what he had just said, but then, “What about the door to the cabin last night? It flew right out of my hand.”
“Come on, man. You did that, I just made you think something else did it.”
“I was pretty drunk.” I admitted, but I had more questions. “So why are you on my boat?”
“Because, you’re on my wreck!”
“You mean you went down with that ship?”
“Not exactly, Joe. I was fishing just like you were, but a thunderstorm came up and sank me. My boat’s on the deck of that wreck.”
Talk about bad luck. That’s about as bad as it gets. “How long have you been here?”
“I don’t know, what year is it?”
When I told him what year it was, the cocky expression he had been wearing changed to a look of disbelief and sadness.
He sat down on the cooler and stared at the floor as he held his head in his hands. “This is really heavy, Joe. I figured a couple of months, maybe a year at the most, but this is too much!”
Things about him were starting to make sense to me now, the way he spoke, the bell bottoms, and the sideburns that went all the way down to his jaw. This was all very puzzling. “Why are you still here? I thought you went to the next life when you died.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t wanna leave, I like it here.”
He was hiding something, but I didn’t want to challenge him. Whatever the reason, I was sure I couldn’t help him. Meanwhile I had problems of my own. I was out of food, and running desperately low on water. If I didn’t get my boat running soon, Spider and I would be sharing this space with Claude forever.
I had to find a way to restore power to he motors. An electrician friend of mine once told me to start with what’s not running and work backwards to the power source. I followed wires all over the boat. Meanwhile my ghostly friend was making a nuisance of himself by popping his head through a wall or floor, and scaring the crap out of me. He was really making a pest of himself, so I jokingly said, “Why don’t you go scare some fish or something?”
“No can do, Joe. The fish can’t see me; I guess the animals can’t see me either. Check it out.”
Claude growled and made his pig face, but Spider never acknowledged him. The poor little guy followed me everywhere, while trying to get my attention. I could hear his stomach growling even louder than my own.
The relentless sun continued its assault on us, and to make matters worse, the remaining water was hot and tasted like plastic. I could actually fell the salty air de-hydrating me. The cloudless sky, crystal blue water and time were now my enemies.
I continued my search all afternoon, there wasn’t even a hint of a breeze while the heat drained my strength. Around four p.m. my search was finally over. I discovered a blown main fuse link in the battery compartment. Since I didn’t have another, I would have to by-pass it. I cut out the fuse and bared the two ends with my filet knife. As I drew the bare ends together, Claude’s face appeared between them. I was too weak and thirsty to be scared.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He cautioned.
“Why not?” I demanded.
“You might make a spark and blow the boat up. Don’t you smell the gas fumes?”
I sniffed the air around me, but I didn’t detect anything. This was Claude making a nuisance of himself again, and I had enough of it.
“I don’t smell anything, now why don’t you get lost.”
His face burst like a balloon, and he was gone.
I dried my sweaty hands on my shorts before going on. I drew the wires near each other and then stopped while I pondered Claude’s warning. The reward far outweighed the risk, so I held my breath and twisted the wires together.
The noise which followed was deafening, yet it was the most welcome noise I’ve ever heard. Every radio and electrical device was left at full volume. Spider leapt to his feet and nearly tackled me again as I ran to check the electronics. A sense of relief swept over me like a cool moist breeze, everything was up and running. My connection to the world had been re-established. Spider continued to follow me as I readied the boat for the trip back to the port. I patted him on the top of the head. “Good news boy, were going home very soon.”
The only thing left to do was to start the motors. I looked up and said a prayer before turning the key. They cranked for a second then came to life with a welcome roar. I pumped a fist in the air and leaped off the deck. The tide had finally turned in my favor.
It was now five p.m., plenty of time of time to reach land before dark. While the motors warmed up, I took a final sip of the foul water in the cooler and gave the rest to Spider.
“Hang in there buddy, we’ll be home before you know it, and then I’m going to give you a nice big piece of chicken.”
His head cocked to one side and he licked his chops at the mention of chicken.
I felt a renewed sense of optimism and vitality when I eased the boat forward. A moment later I throttled up to cruising speed. As I punched the port’s numbers into the navigator, it suddenly went dead. That was alright though, because all I had to do was steer towards the setting sun. I would no doubt find land in no time.
As a couple of minutes had passed, I began to notice something wasn’t quite right. First of all, there wasn’t any wind whatsoever, and Spider wasn’t at the bow sneezing as he did on the way out here. In fact, he was lying on the deck completely disinterested. Then the most glaring revelation hit me square in the face. I didn’t remember raising the anchor! It was as if a flashbulb went off in my head, and I was right back where I started. I hadn’t traveled one inch.
Claude’s voice echoed right next to me. “Did you think I’d let you leave me just like that?”
I was shocked when I turned in the direction of his voice. When he materialized, the mischievous playful look was gone, he looked furious and demonic.
A circle, large enough to swallow a greyhound bus formed right in front of the boat. The water within it began to lower while the surrounding water poured in with a roar. The boat lurched forward, and had I not re-acted quickly, I would have surely gone in. The motors were at full throttle in reverse. The boat began to back away, but the water began to flow faster. Steam rose from the powerful motors but they proved no match for the fury of the sea.
My heart pounded as I frantically asked. “Claude, what’s wrong?”
“I just wanted you to know that I could’ve made your life miserable if I wanted to. I think I’ve been pretty good to you, and I don’t want you to leave me.”
He snapped his finger and the circle disappeared. The water thankfully returned to normal. My knuckles were white from the incredible grip I had on the throttle and steering wheel.
“Why not?” I asked.
He hesitated for a moment then shouted, “You’re the first person to come by here since I drowned. I’m lonely damn it!”
He hid his face in his hands and quietly sobbed.
“Didn’t anyone look for you?”
“No one knew where I was, this was my secret fishing spot.”
“Claude! How did you wind up this way?”
“It started raining real hard like, and my bilge pump quit. The rain and the waves filled the boat in a hurry, and before I knew what hit me, down it went. I got my feet tangled in the anchor line and got pulled down with it.”
“That must have been horrible!”
“Dude, it was, but you know what made it worse? I had an argument with my wife that day. I was so mad that I just took off and left her. That was the last time I ever saw her. She was all I could think about as I went down, and I’ve hated myself ever since. Sometimes, on a clear night, I look into the stars and I can see her. I can hear her calling me, but I’m stuck in stupid this place.”
I had to scratch my head on that one. I thought ghosts could go wherever they wanted to, but I soon learned how wrong I was.
“I don’t get it, why are you stuck here?”
He looked up at me and spread his arms. “Don’t you get it man? Her life is at a standstill because my body was never found. She has no closure.”
I grabbed a pencil and a piece of paper. “Tell me her name and address, I’ll tell her everything. Wouldn’t that help?”
He shook his head. “No dude, you have to bring her something of mine that will let her know I’ve been found.”
“What would that be?”
“The one thing that meant everything to us, my wedding ring.”
“You have got to be kidding.” I knew he wasn’t. I’ll never be able to reach your boat and make it back to the surface.”
Claude’s eyes lit up with renewed enthusiasm. “Don’t worry about it, Joe, I have a plan.”
“Do I really want to hear this plan?”
“You don’t have any choice, man!”
He didn’t know I was already drawn in. You don’t get to help a ghost everyday of the week.
“Okay, Claude, what’s your plan?”
“It’s so simple. When you dropped anchor, it smashed right through the windshield of my boat. All you gotta do is haul it up with your winch, go on board and get the ring.”
“Claude, your boat has been down there rotting all of this time. It might not make the trip to the surface. If it breaks off, it would be a million to one shot that I could hook it again, and one more thing. Where exactly is the ring?”
He held up his left hand and wiggled his ring finger. “It’s still on my finger with my body.”
Now we were entering the ridiculous zone. “Let me get this straight. You want me to haul up your rotting boat, go onboard while suspended by my anchor, and retrieve your wedding ring from your body?”
“Yeah! You got it.”
“Forget it.”
He sprung off the deck. “Come on, Joe, you touch slimy fish don’t you?”
“Yeah?”
“Well? What’s the difference? Besides, there’s no body down there anymore, it’s just a skeleton, that’s all.”
I was certain he wasn’t going to give up, so I gave in. “All right, all right! We’d better hurry though, the sun’s going down.”
I had to work quickly. Not only was it getting late, I was dying for a drink, and my stomach must have thought I had abandoned it. Spider and I hadn’t eaten in two days now. I was getting weaker, while Spider was just lying around, panting furiously.
I rigged some lights and hung them from the bow. The orange-red sun was getting ready to kiss the blue water and would soon be gone from sight.
“I wish I could help you, Joe. Isn’t there anything I can do?”
“Yes! You can go down to your boat and make sure it doesn’t get caught on anything.”
He saluted me, “You got it skipper.” He dove into the water without making a splash.
I started the winch which ran smoothly until it had the full weight of Claude’s boat. My boat pulled directly over his, then the bow began lowering towards the water. I had my knife at the ready to cut the line at the first sign of being pulled under.
The winch growled and strained under the heavy load, but the bow finally stabilized about four inches above the water. The winch was still turning which meant only one thing. Claude’s boat was on the way up. I looked towards the stern just in time to see both my empty cooler and Spider sliding towards the front. I could hear splashing from the motors as they were lifted out of the water.
High scalloped clouds were changing from crimson to dark purple as the sun slipped under the horizon. Darkness was speeding towards us from the east and would be upon us soon.
I looked at the line coming off the winch and figured the boat to be about forty feet from the surface.
Claude re-appeared shouting. You’re doing it, man, you’re doing it. She’s all clear and on the way up. I’m finally gonna be free of this place.”
I peered into the dark blue water and saw a blurry white object rising toward me. My confidence was dashed, just as I thought everything was going fine. The smell of burning rubber filled the air. Smoke began to rise from the electric motor which powered the winch, and before I could turn it off, it came to a stop, while shooting sparks across the bow. I turned off the power and stared at the smoking mess. Although it was clearly finished, it still held the load.
Darkness pressed in from every direction now and my lights penetrated the dark water and illuminated the ghostly shape of Claude’s barnacle encrusted boat.
“There she is, Joe. The Dorothy Mae.”
“Who’s Dorothy?”
“She’s my wife.” He answered with a sense of pride in his voice.
My boat doesn’t have a name. I wasn’t as lucky as Claude to have someone who meant so much.
“I’m going to check the depth finder to see how deep she is.”
Claude didn’t seem to hear me; he just kept gazing at the Dorothy Mae.
The boat was hanging vertically, and a quick check of the depth finder, showed the bow to be in twenty feet of water, and the stern another fifteen feet further.
Since we were no longer anchored to the wreck, we were drifting into ever deepening water with each passing minute. I went down below and grabbed my snorkel gear and my underwater flashlight. I snorkel every chance I get and am a pretty good free diver.
By the time I was ready to get wet; we had drifted into three-hundred feet of water, with no sign of leveling off. The dark water looked both frightening and inviting. My lips and tongue were as dry as newspaper, and I wished I could dive in and take a drink, but I’m sure that much saltwater would kill me for sure.
“Good luck, Joe” said Claude with genuine encouragement in his voice.
I nodded and then jumped into the open arms of the sea. Spider barked at me as I readied myself for my descent. I’m sure in his way, he was urging me to come back, but I was determined to see this through.
I took a dozen shallow breaths to oxygenate my blood, then took one long deep breath. I pulled myself down the anchor line into the silent alien world. The cool water refreshed me and awakened my senses. It has been said that when you are in the open ocean, there is a shark just sixty feet from you. My flashlight only penetrated about eight feet into the underwater darkness; I wondered how many sets of eyes were watching me.
As I drew closer, I could see the boat was a small cuddy-cabin type. I began my search in the cramped cabin area; it was only large enough for two people to lie down in. No standing room at all.
My anchor had lodged itself in the thin fiberglass ceiling above the bunks. The flashlight’s beam spooked a hitchhiking crab out of its dark hiding place and swam out the broken window frame. No sign of Claude yet, but I had to return to the surface for fresh air, my lungs were aching!
When I broke the surface, Claude and Spider were sitting together on the bow looking down at me. Spider continued to urge me back on board with his barking, while Claude pleaded with me to continue my search.
On the way back down, I felt the line pop and saw the anchor slip about an inch. Time was running out, a feeling of dread swept over me when I reached the back of the ruined boat. Could I become the next victim of Claude’s unlucky boat? There was no time to dwell on such things; I had to continue with my search. After a quick sweep of the back half of the boat, it was clear that Claude’s body was no longer on the boat. It must have fallen out when the boat went vertical, but then I saw it. The anchor line that Claude spoke of was still tied off at the bow; I followed it with my eyes as it made its way down the length of the vessel and then disappeared into the murky depths below. I pulled it gently, and was relieved to feel weight upon it.
I had to retreat to the surface for more air, and on my return dive, I went straight for the anchor line. I pulled it up as quickly as I could; it felt about as heavy as a full suitcase, but then it got caught on something at the stern. I planted my feet firmly on the crusty transom and gave it one big pull. I will never forget the sight of that anchor with Claude’s skeleton attached, for as long as I live. It sailed over the back of the boat and landed right on top of me. I would have screamed if I could, for there we were, face to face. It was ice cold, and rough to the touch, black with randomly attached green barnacles. The empty eye sockets seemed to stare right into my soul, but the urgency of my mission drove me beyond fright. I pushed it off me then grabbed the left hand that was frozen in a fist. There it was the wedding ring which represented the ticket that would get me and Claude out of here.
As I pried the ring finger open, a grey shape flew out of the darkness and slammed right into me, nearly knocking out of the boat. Fortunately, sharks do not posses good eye sight. I quickly went back to my task, but I knew that shark was still out there, and he’d be back soon. I guessed him to be about ten feet long; easily big enough to snap off a leg with one bite.
As I struggled with the ring, the boat suddenly surged downward. My anchor was breaking loose and I had to move fast. I dragged the skeleton by the ring finger to my anchor line and took hold just as it broke free. My anchor line shot upwards since it was now free of Claude’s boat, which was now on its way back to the bottom with the shark following right behind.
I held on as tightly as I could when Claude’s deadly anchor line snatched the skeleton from my grasp. Meanwhile, the finger broke off in my hand, but I still had the ring.
I pulled myself to the surface to an anxious Claude.
“Did you get it?” He asked with eyes wide.
I climbed aboard and then held out my open palm, the ring and the finger bone were still together. I pulled the finger from the ring and threw it back into the water. He reached out to the ring, but sighed when he was unable to touch it. He looked me right in the eye. “It’s finally over, I just wish I could be there when you give it to Dorothy.”
“I don’t understand, now that you’re free of this place, why don’t you come with me. You are free aren’t you?”
“I can’t go, look at me. I’m changing, I feel like I’m being pulled to another place, a better place. Look up there!”
Claude pointed to a kaleidoscopic area in a small puffy white cloud that hovered overhead. It was completely radiant and cast beams of rainbow light down to him. He absorbed the beams of light and smiled. “It feels good, like a velvet cloth being wrapped around me.” He looked up for a moment as if was communicating with the luminous cloud.
“Yes, but may I have just a moment longer? I want to say goodbye. Thank you.”
His gaze returned to me, he was glowing a soft golden color now.
“I don’t have much time, and I’m not sure what’s next, but I do know that I will always love Dorothy. Let her know that when you see her, and ask her to please forgive me. Tell her I want her to let me go, I’m going to a better place, and she deserves to go on with her life. I want what’s best for her.”
He turned around and walked off the back of the boat into mid-air, then turned back to me one last time. “Thanks for everything, Joe; I would have been here forever if it weren’t for you. Of all the friends I’ve ever had, you have been the best. I’ll never forget you. If there’s any way I can help you, I will.”
He looked up to the swirling colorful cloud. “I’m ready now.”
His image grew brighter, almost blinding, but not harsh. He lost all human form and rose like a blue-white fireball into the kaleidoscope. A second later, the bluish-white ball shot from the top of the cloud and joined the stars above it. Claude had finally found his place in the heavens.
Meanwhile, I felt a great emptiness. Between Claude and me, it seemed he was the lucky one; his life had gone full circle while mine just floundered. I only knew him for two days, but during that time, I’ve never felt more alive.
I started the boat, and hauled the anchor up by hand. The moon slowly rose from the sea; I’ve never seen it so big, like an orange hot-air balloon. I held my arms out at my sides as far as I could, and it was still not enough to touch the edges of it.
I checked my watch; it was two-thirty a.m. Spider was lying on the deck panting.
“Come here buddy.” I tried to call him to my side, but he didn’t bother to move, he just looked at me with those big eyes of his and yawned. I knew just how he felt. I pointed the bow towards land, then got up to cruising speed.
The moon grew brighter as it rose higher, lighting my way across the dark open ocean. The water sparkled like diamonds as the boat cut through it. The cool air blew through my stiff hair, my stomach cramped from the saltwater. My lips were cracked and parched; the trip into the water was taking its toll on me. I was exhausted, but I pressed on, determined not to give in.
About an hour later I looked up to find the same cloud over me, and Claude’s star out ahead of it. I followed it, and as I thought of how thirsty I was, a gentle rain began to fall. I held my head back and allowed the sweet water to wash over my sunburned face. The water was sweet as sugar, and wonderfully clean to the touch. I opened my mouth and let the sweet rain pour in. Spider leapt to his feet and began lapping up the water as it collected on the deck. From that moment on, I knew everything was going to be alright now.
Way out in front of me, I thought I saw something, and as I strained my eyes, I realized that I saw something that lifted my spirits nearly as high as Claude’s. It was the soft orange glow of lights which marked the coastline, while Claude’s star hung directly over them. Later, I could see the green and red blinking lights of the buoy line that marked the entrance into Port Canaveral.
The life saving rain abruptly stopped, and when I looked up at the cloud which provided me with such pleasant relief, it suddenly dissipated. Looking back from the port, I watched Claude’s star move overhead and then settle just below the moon.
It was five-thirty when I docked my boat. I watched with interest as the fishermen prepared their boats, and wondered what sort of day awaited them.
“Two days later and here I am. Now! If you would like to call the authorities and have me taken away, please feel free to do so. I wouldn’t blame you one bit, but I swear every word of it is true.”
She gazes right into my eyes, and kisses me on the cheek. “Thank you, Joe, there is no doubt in my mind that you were with Claude. It makes me feel happy for him and happy for me too. To know he still loves me after all of these years, and he doesn’t blame me for his accident. You have no idea of how it has been, blaming myself, I still do a little bit, but I feel like a weight has been lifted from me.”
She looks around the dark living room and then the kitchen. She turns to me and puts on a big smile. The change it makes on her face is dramatic. Her eyes brighten like I’ve never seen before and she is quite pretty. I take a chance and tell her straight up.
“Do you know how pretty you are when you smile?”
She blushes and bashfully turns away. “How can you say that? I’m not wearing a lick of makeup.”
“You don’t need any, believe me, but there is one thing you should consider.”
“What would that be?”
I point to the heavy drapes and curtains which hang over every window in the place. “You should open all of these drapes and windows and let some fresh air and light into this cute little house of yours. I’ll even help if you like?”
She bites down on her index finger and pivots back and forth and then nods in agreement. “Yes, yes, let do it. This house has been dark for far too long. Why don’t you start in the kitchen while I open up the living-room.”
“That’s a deal.” I march into the kitchen and throw open the heavy curtains. Blinding yellow light rushes in, illuminating everything instantly. I open the window and a cool breeze instantly blows in. Meanwhile, Dorothy is struggling with the heavy drapes which remain steadfast in their duty.
I step next to her and grab a handful of the heavy material. “Well, are you ready?”
She nods. “Yes!”
“One, two, three!”
We pull in opposite directions so hard; the drapes and the rod fall to the floor in a heap. The light enters the room like a runaway freight train, and the breeze blows the cover of a magazine open to reveal an ad for the Cocoa Beach Pier.
We both look at it at the same moment and share the same thought.
“It’s a sign!” We say it at the same time and look into each other’s eyes. “Let’s finish what we started.” Dorothy says.
We run through the house opening shades and drapes while laughing like children, even Spider gets into the act chasing and barking at us. When we finish we sit down in the kitchen and have a cold drink. The entire mood of the house as well as Dorothy has been changed. She’s light and fresh, just like the house. The transformation is contagious, I now feel as though I am ready to re-enter the world of the living. No more monotony for me. This is my chance, and I’m ready to take it. My heart is pounding like a bass drum, but here goes.
“Dorothy, would you like to go to the beach tonight? I can show you Claude’s star if you like.”
She sits there silently for a moment while she thinks it over. “It was odd when the magazine opened to that page, wasn’t it?”
“It wasn’t odd; I think it was meant to be.” I’m getting brave now.
“You’re right, Joe, let’s do it. I haven’t been to the beach in ages.”
“Then it’s settled. We’ll go right after sunset. Meanwhile, I’m hungry, how about you?”
“I could eat. As a matter of fact, why don’t I make dinner for us? I haven’t cooked for two in a long time. It’s the least I can do after all you’ve been through.”
“As a matter of fact, I haven’t had a home cooked meal prepared for me in years. Can I help?”
“No, you have a seat on the couch and I’ll call you when it’s ready.”
She makes a beautiful fried chicken dinner with mashed potatoes and carrots. The entire house smells delicious, and not a scrap is wasted, since chicken is me and Spider’s favorite meal.
When we finish, I help with the dishes, an intimate way to get close to someone without getting too intimate. I don’t want to move too fast and scare her away, but I don’t want her to think I’m not interested either.
Twilight is upon us as we get in the car and head for the beach. After the ten minute drive we pull into a convenient parking space and use the weather beaten stairs that cross over the sandy sea wall. We stroll between the grassy dunes on our way to the place where the surf kisses the sand. Tiny sandpipers dash along the surfs edge looking for a tasty treat. I enjoy watching their little feet as they move in high speed probing the salty froth as it moves in and out.
The first stars are just coming into view as we pick a spot nearby the Cocoa Beach Pier. The live music drifts along the evening breeze. I can’t tell what song is playing, but it is slow and dreamlike, just like this moment. I unhook Spider’s leash and let him play near the water’s edge while Dorothy sits on the soft warm sand. It seems that the more I gaze at her, the more beautiful she becomes, but dare I tell her?
“I haven’t been alone with a woman in over seven years, and I have to tell you, I’m a little nervous.”
She slips her arm through mine and rests her head on my shoulder. “You don’t have to be nervous with me, Joe. I can’t explain it, but I feel like we’ve known each other for years.”
I take her hand in mine and we both gaze into the heavens, until I finally see it. There, shining as brightly as it did the first time I saw it, is Claude’s star.
I point it out to Dorothy and a feeling of warmth a familiarity sweeps over us. Tears well up in her eyes, yet she giggles and smiles. “It’s him, I can feel him all around us and he’s happy.”
We watch as the star moves away and joins the other celestial bodies as they put on their nightly show for all of us here on earth. Meanwhile the music and the comfortable mood is more then I can bare.
I stand and extend a hand out to her. “Dorothy, will you dance with me, here under the stars?”
She raises her arm and I pull her to her feet. “I thought you might never ask.”
She’s light and graceful, her body feels like a perfect fit as I hold her close to me.
“I think I’m falling for you, Joe.”
Her words fill me with joy and open the door for me to tell her. “You don’t know how happy that makes me, because I’ve fallen for you.”
The sound of the surf as it gently falls to the sand remind me of how an encounter and release of a trapped soul, has allowed the lives of two lost people to begin life anew. For this I will be ever grateful to Claude. I look up to the starry sky and wish him well.







I close the book and I am genuinely happy for that couple. To think that an encounter with a ghost could turn out to be a good thing is remarkable. Maybe one day I’ll meet up with a ghost and turn my life around.
I should probably check on Lester, I hope he has my car nearly finished. As I am about to leave the room, I discover an odd thing among all of these vehicles and boats.
It’s a single shoe, but not an ordinary shoe, this one has been chewed up pretty good, yet here it is sitting on a pedestal with a book just like the other’s resting in a music stand in front of it.
I pick up the glossy book and read the title :








Joe and Junior’s Lucky Day

“Joe! What the hell do you think you’re doin’?”
“What’s it look like I’m doin’, Junior? I’m tyin’ his shoes.”
“I can see that, but why are you doin’ it, he’s dead.”
“That’s because, Carmella, wants him dressed before the boss comes home. If he comes home and finds Frankie dead, and naked, he’s gonna know Carmella was seeing him behind the bosses back. Now gimme a hand will ya?”
“Okay, Joe. Say, why are we doin’ this any how? We work for the boss, we don’t work for his wife.”
“Look, stupid. She’s giving us five-grand to do this for her. What’s a matter wit you? Don’t you need money?”
“Yeah, sure, I need money. I just lost five-hundred at the track - hey, who you callin’ stupid. You don’t even know how to tie shoelaces.”
“Look, Junior, you just remember who’s the brains here. Now watch me. You take the two ends, cross them, fold one end over the other, then pull both ends down tight, see? Then you do the same thing again, but this time you make a loop in one hand, take the loose end, and wrap it around till you make a bow. After you make the bow you pull it down tight. Then you loop it around again.”
“That’s not how you tie a shoelace. No wonder you wear loafers. Gimme me a crack at it.”
“Get away from that shoe, you moron.”
“Gimme a minute here, I’ll show you how to tie a shoe.”
“I said get away from that shoe.”
“Hey, Joe, let go. Your gonna pull his foot off you big lug. Let go!”
“You let go.”
“Now look what happened. The shoe went out the window.”
“Go down there and get it.”
“I’m not goin’ nowhere. Rex is down there, and he don’t like me so much.”
“Look! He’s a dog. Just give him a couple a cookies or something, then you can get the shoe.”
“He’s not just a dog, he’s a psycho German shepherd, and he looks pretty mad. Uh oh, he just grabbed the shoe and took off with it.”
“Come on, Junior, we gotta get down there fast before he buries it or something. Hurry up!”
“I’m goin’ as fast as I can. What are we gonna to tell Carmella?”
“We ain’t gonna tell her nothin’. I want that five-grand. Wait a minute. She just went into the bathroom, and there goes the shower. Perfect! Let’s go.”
“Joe, take a look out the kitchen door while I grab this box of cookies.”
“I don’t see nothin’, there’s no tellin’ where that dog is.”
“That’s okay, I got the cookies, lets go get the shoe so’s we can get out of here.”
“All right, I’m gonna open the door, but you gotta go out first.”
“What for?”
“Cause you got the cookies you genius.”
“Okay, I’m ready. Open it.”
“There you go, now be careful. Remember, five-grand’s on the line.”
“Okay, Joe. Here Rex, here boy, I got some yummy cookies for you. All you gotta do is gimme the shoe. Come on boy.”
“Go out there a little further.”
“You come out here with me, I don’t trust you. You might lock me out.”
“Okay, you big chicken, let’s go. Here Rex, we got somethin’ for you.”
“Ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff. Ruff ruff ruff.”
“Let’s get out of here, Junior.”
“Oh no, the door’s locked. Run!”
“He’s gettin’ closer, throw the cookies at him.”
“That’s great, Joe. Now he has the cookies and the shoe. Whadda we gonna do now?”
“Look, while he’s busy eatin’ the cookies, we’ll go around the other side of the house and grab the shoe.”
“Okay, but let’s hurry up. He’ll be done in no time.”
“Right, let’s go. Come on, keep up. There it is, by the fence. Go get it, Junior, I’ll keep an eye on the dog.”
“I got it.”
“Look out! Here he comes. Let’s get over the fence before it’s too late.”
“Ruff ruff ruff ruff ruff. Ruff ruff ruff.”
“That was a close one, Joe.”
“You ain’t kiddin’. Take a look at this.”
“Wow! He tore your back pocket off. A half inch closer and you’d be gettin’ your butt sewed back together.”
“Ha ha, very funny. Now let’s get back inside.”
“What were you two doing outside?”
“Carmella! Uh, me and Junior went to check on Rex. Yeah, we heard him barkin’ his head off.”
“So what was he barking at?”
“Who?”
“Rex! What’s the matter with you?”
“Oh yeah, he was barkin’ at a cat, that’s all.”
“Then get back to work, we’re running out of time.”
“Okay, Carmella. Come on, Junior.”
“Man, I’m gettin’ tired of climbing up and down these stairs.”
“Say, where’d you put the shoe?”
“I stuck it down my... Hey - where’s Frankie?”
“I don’t know, but listen the shower’s runnin’. Let’s go see. Frankie! You’re alive.”
“Hey, Joe, Junior, what are you guys doing here?”
“Carmella called me. She said you were dead, so I picked up Junior to give me a hand dressin you, before the boss got home.”
“Well I’m not dead, but I do sleep like that when I’m really tired. I’ve been on a roll at the casino, and I haven’t slept for the past two days. I don’t want Carmella to find out, so I’m going to give you guys five-grand to keep your mouths shut. You got it?”
“Yeah, sure, Frankie, me and Junior will just be on our way then.”
“Good, here you go, five-grand.”
“Thanks, Frankie, we’ll see ya later. Junior, give him his shoe.”
“Here you go. See ya.”
“Let’s get down stairs and pick up the other five-grand from Carmella.”
“Okay, Joe, but let’s hurry up.”
“What for?”
“Hey! What the hell happened to my shoe?”
“That’s what for.”
“Bye, Carmella, pleasure doin’ business with ya.”
“Bye, boys. Good work.”
“Hey! What about my shoe? Hey!”
As I look around I wonder about the other items in here and what stories they have to tell. The door opens and Lester finally comes in, still wiping his hands with his red rag.
“Well? Whadda you think of my collection?”
“I have to tell you, Lester, this is the most amazing collection I’ve ever seem. I like the stories that go with them. It sort of gives you a guided tour, but there is one thing I have to ask you about.”
“What’s that?”
“Why is the main character in every story named Joe?”
“Whadda you talkin about?” He picks up the book from in front of the big boat and opens it. “You see! All the stories are about Lester!”
He leafs through the book and shows it to me, and sure enough, every “Joe” had been replaced with Lester.
“Let me have a look at that.”
He hands me the book and the “Lester’s” have been changed back to “Joe”!
“So the books change the name of the character, depending on who reads it?”
“Now you’re gettin’ it.”
He takes the book from me and returns it to the stand. “Your car’s ready, lets go outside and check it out.”
We pass through the narrow doorway and I take one last look back at the amazing collection.
“Come on.” He prompts me. “I’m ready to go home.”
We step out side into the shady work area to find my car purring like a kitten, windows rolled up and my air freshener that hangs from my mirror swinging in the air. I open the door and I’m greeted by a blast of ice cold air. A smile from ear to ear is plastered on my face. No longer will my car be a rolling oven. Now I can drive like a civilized human being.
I turn to Lester who is drinking down a soda and eating a candy bar. “How much do I owe you?”
My heart starts thumping as he begins to calculate the bill. I have visions of large numbers being added together from the top of the page to the bottom. He tears it off and hands it to me, and I am pleasantly surprised.
“That’s all?”
“Joe, it was only a belt.”
I happily hand him his money, shake hands and get in my nice cold car. So cold in fact, that I actually had to turn it down a bit. As I backed away from Lester’s shop I secretly wished that something else would go wrong with my car. Not something expensive, but just enough so I can get back in that room and enjoy more of those interesting stories.