Mango Crush

by Bill H Myers

  I scooted closer to the bed and asked, “Bob, you ready to go home?”

  This time the whimper was louder and stronger.

  But I still wasn't sure that it was him. So I said, “Bob, are you hungry?”

  He'd heard me say the same thing many times before, and it always had him come running. This time, he poked his head from under the couch and said, “Meow,” then started purring.

  I reached over and stroked his head. He leaned in closer so I could do his ears and back. While I was rubbing him, I checked to see if there were any broken bones or dried blood.

  I didn't find any obvious injuries, but I'd for sure take him to the vet for a full checkup after I got him home.

  From behind me, Haywood's wife asked, “Is that your cat? Are you going to take him with you?”

  I turned to her and said, “Yes ma'am. It's my cat. He's going back home with me.”

  “Good. Glad to see him go.”

  I offered her the reward money, but instead of taking it, she pointed to the van in the driveway and said, “The best reward would be for you to take that van with you.

  “My husband surprised me with it, saying it would be my daily driver. He expected me to be happy about it, but I wasn't. As soon as I opened the door, I knew there was a cat in it. I started sneezing, and my throat started burning. I had to get away from it. I'm allergic to cats.

  “But that's not all. The van's too big for me, too hard to park and uses too much gas. I don't want anything like it.

  “What I really wanted was a sports car. Something like the one you rode up in.”

  She went over to look at the Miata and Taylor followed. I stayed in the van with Bob.

  I could see the two women talking, nodding their heads in agreement about something. They shook hands, and I watched as Taylor gave her the keys to the Miata.

  She walked over to me and said, “I just traded my car for this van. I needed something bigger, and she wanted something smaller, so we agreed to trade.

  “She's got the title, and I have mine. We're going to sign them, and the deal will be done.

  “I don't know how her husband will feel when he sees she's traded for the Miata, but she said it's what she wanted and since the cars are worth about the same, she was willing to trade even.

  “What do you think?”

  At that point, all I could think about was getting Bob home. Getting him there in the van would be a whole lot easier than in the Miata. So I said, “Sounds like a good deal to me. You were looking for something bigger, and now you've got it. Take me home.”

  After she put everything from her Miata into the back of the van, she climbed up into the captain’s seat and started the motor.

  The doors locked automatically, and the air conditioner started blowing. Warm air at first, but soon after, cold.

  She adjusted her seat and mirrors and said, “You ready to go?”

  I was.

  Bob had come out from underneath the couch while the two women were doing the car deal, but had headed back to safety when Taylor came to tell me the van was hers.

  He hid under the couch most of the way through the stop-and-go traffic of Punta Gorda and Port Charlotte. But when we hit the smooth pavement of Englewood Road, he came up front and hopped up into my lap.

  He sat there and gave himself a good cleaning, purring loudly.

  When we turned onto Manasota Beach Road, about five miles from the house, Taylor turned to me and asked, “You know, don't you? You figured it out?”

  I was pretty sure I knew what she was talking about, but, just in case, I said, “Tell me about it.”

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  “It was an accident. I had just dropped Chip off at the airport, and he'd made me mad by telling me there was nothing between us. I was just his driver, a way for him to get to the airport and back when he was in town.

  “He told me to get his car washed and take it back to his place. He treated me like I was one of his staff, nothing more.

  “I decided to show him. I hopped in his Corvette and took off. I was planning on driving it all day until it ran out of gas.

  “When I got to the straightaway at Jacaranda, I floored it, and it took off. Next thing I knew I was in the woods, on the other side of your motorhome. The airbags had exploded, and I was covered with white powder.

  “I wasn't sure what had happened, but I knew I needed to get away. I climbed out the window and took off walking.

  “Then I got an Uber to take me home.”

  She turned to me with tears in her eyes and said, “I really didn't mean to hit you. It was an accident. I should have told you sooner, but I just couldn't. You had helped me fend off Chance and offered me a job when I'd lost mine. I needed the money and was afraid if I told you, you'd call the cops. I'm so sorry.”

  I didn't know what to say after hearing her confession. I was already peeved off about her supposed rehearsal on the beach with Chance. She had sold out for money and left me hanging.

  She'd done the same thing with the wreck. She knew from the first day we'd met that I was in the motorhome she'd destroyed. But she'd said nothing. In fact, she'd led me on trying to frame Chance.

  As I thought about it, a question came to mind. “So the car keys you found on the beach that night, you really didn't find them, did you? You had them with you all the time.”

  She nodded but said nothing. She pulled her van into the driveway of the beach house where I was staying and killed the motor. She started to get out, but I said, “Stay here. I'll get the money I owe you. Then we're done.”

  I picked up Bob and carried him inside. I took him into my bedroom and gently set him on the bed.

  Then I went to my safe, grabbed the money I owed Taylor.

  When I went back outside, she was gone. She had driven away before I could pay her off.

  Back inside, with Bob in my lap, I called Abby.

  When she answered, I said, “I found him.”

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  The next day, Abby got in from Atlantic City. The first words out of her mouth were, “Where is he?”

  She didn't ask how I was feeling or tell me she'd missed me. She only wanted to know about Bob.

  In the day and a half that he'd been back, he'd settled right in. He had already claimed my bed as his own and would hop up onto it, snuggle up against my pillow and nap. Sometimes, I'd nap with him, and he would purr when I did.

  I led Abby into the bedroom, and as soon as Bob felt her presence, he sat up in the bed and made his way over to the edge so she could pet him.

  While she was busy with him, I asked, “So how was Atlantic City?”

  She smiled and said, “I did all right. Made enough to cover all my expenses with a little left over.”

  I knew she probably had done more than just all right. Last time I was in a casino with her, she had won almost thirty thousand dollars in less than twenty minutes.

  I figured she had probably done as well in Atlantic City. But if she didn't want to tell me how much she'd made, I wasn't going to ask. I was just happy she was back.

  She tapped the bed and said, “I'm tired. Come take a nap with me and Bob.”

  And I did.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  The next morning, Abby wanted me to go into town with her to take care of a few things. She said Bob needed his sleep and wouldn't miss us if we were gone for an hour or two.

  I didn't want to leave him, but Abby was probably right. He'd sleep most of the day.

  We made five stops that day. One at each of the animal shelters we'd visited earlier in the week.

  At each one, Abby donated five thousand dollars, all in cash.

  At the last shelter, the one on Dearborn Street in Englewood, she made the same donation and then adopted the kitten that looked like a miniature Bob. He cried when she'd picked him up, but he soon cuddled into her arms.

  When we started to leave, she handed me the car keys and said, “You drive.”

 
When we got back to the beach house, Abby introduced Bob to the kitten. At first, he shied away, but the kitten wouldn't leave him alone. He followed Bob everywhere he went.

  If Bob lay down to rest, the kitten would lay down beside him. If Bob went to the litter box, the kitten would follow.

  After a while, Bob decided the kitten wasn't so bad. It gave him someone to play with and it wasn't long before we'd find them snuggled up together, with both of them purring.

  That evening, while we were eating dinner, Abby said, “I have a friend in Cedar Key. He's found something you might be interested in.”

  “What he'd find. Gold coins? Buried Treasure?”

  She shook her head. “No, nothing like that. It's a motorhome.

  “One of the people staying in the same park where my friend is wants to sell his motorhome. My friend knew about how you lost yours and thought you might be interested in it.

  “It's the same make and model as your old one, except it's twelve years newer and two feet longer. And it has three slide outs instead of just one.

  “Unlike your old motorhome, the one up there has a wall-to-wall bedroom with a queen bed. It's private and plenty of room for two people.”

  It sounded interesting, so I asked, “When can we go see it?”

  Abby shook her head. “We can’t. We've got a cat and a kitten here we need to take care of.

  "But I figured you'd probably want the one they are selling, so I told them you'd buy it. They're bringing it down tomorrow. All you'll need is a check for forty thousand dollars. If you don’t want it after you see it, I'll buy it. I think I can make money selling it.”

  Two days later, Bob and I moved into our new home. I used the insurance money plus some of my own to pay for the motorhome Abby had found. It was much newer and nicer than my old one. And I didn't mind paying the ten-thousand-dollar difference.

  After Bob and I settled in, we were soon ready for our next adventure.

  Abby's boss still wanted us to go to St. Augustine. The trip would be a good shakedown cruise for the new-to-me motorhome and a way for Bob and me to get back to the life we loved.

  To make it more interesting, Abby planned to go with us. But with two conditions. She was bringing little Buddy along, her new kitten.

  And she wasn't going to sleep on the couch.

  I'd already decided I wouldn't be sleeping on it either.

  It was looking like it could be an interesting trip.

  Author’s Notes

  Most of the locations in this book are real, but none of the characters are, except for Mango Bob.

  If you plan to visit Florida and want to avoid the crowds while staying on pristine beaches, consider visiting the Venice and Englewood area.

  Located about halfway between Sarasota and Fort Myers, it's a place where you can enjoy the laid-back atmosphere while spending your days on the beaches searching for shells and sharks’ teeth.

  In the evenings, you can visit the seven-hundred-foot Venice fishing pier to watch the sun set over the gulf then eat at one of the many local restaurants.

  There's plenty to do in the area, but if you want to avoid the snowbird traffic, make Englewood your destination.

  While in the area, look for a motorhome with a big orange tabby cat sitting on the dash. It might be Mango Bob.

  Finally, if you like this book, please post a positive review on Amazon. Good reviews keep me motivated to create new volumes of the adventures of Mango Bob and Walker.

  As always, thanks for your support.

  Bill Myers

  The adventure continues . . .

  If you liked Mango Crush, please post a review at Amazon, and let your friends know about the Mango Bob series.

  Other books in the Mango Bob series include:

  Mango Bob

  Mango Lucky

  Mango Bay

  Mango Glades

  Mango Key

  Mango Blues

  Mango Digger

  You can find photos, maps, and more from the Mango Bob adventures at http://www.mangobob.com

  Stay in touch with Mango Bob and Walker on Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/MangoBob-197177127009774/