Mango Digger

by Bill H Myers

  It didn't take him long to find the site. A fifth wheel trailer, hooked to a dually pickup, was parked in it. The driver said, “That's a nice looking rig you got there. Thinking about getting something like it when I retire.”

  I tipped him a fiver and said, “We sure like it. It's a great way to travel.”

  He said, “Thanks,” and drove away. As soon as he was out of sight, we walked over to number twenty-seven, where our motorhome was parked.

  It was exactly as we had left it. No sign that anyone had tried to break in. No note on the windshield telling us to check with the office or a warning that our real names had been discovered and we were being kicked out. There was none of that. Everything looked normal.

  I unlocked the door and helped Abby up the steps. I followed her in and was reaching for the light switch when she stood on her tiptoes and kissed me on the lips. Then, without saying anything, she turned and walked to the back bedroom.

  I switched on the lights and saw that Bob was coming up front to see what was going on. Normally I would have asked him how his day had been, but I was too stunned by the kiss to say anything. My not asking didn't seem to bother him. He did his normal thing, came up and rubbed against my ankle and then took a seat on the couch.

  A few moments later, Abby came up front to join us. She had changed into a loose fitting white T-shirt over white cotton shorts with happy little pink rabbits on them. She moved to the couch, sat down beside Bob and asked, “You have anything to drink in here?”

  I did, a box of Chardonnay in the fridge. I didn't tell her about it, at least not right away because Devin had warned me not to let her drink.

  But Devin had lied about a lot of things. Maybe even about Abby having a drinking problem.

  Abby wasn't a child. Not by any measure. She was close to my own age and hadn't given me any reason to treat her as a child, so I said, “I've got some Chardonnay in the fridge. Would you like some?”

  She nodded. I got the wine out and filled her glass. When I handed it to her, she asked, “Aren't you going to join me?”

  I shook my head. “No. I have to drive in the morning. I don't want to do it with a hangover.”

  She looked disappointed with my answer, but it didn't stop her from taking a sip of her wine. She smiled and said, “Maybe you should change into something more comfortable.”

  I was still wearing jeans and the button up shirt she’d picked out for me. Not really the kind of thing I could relax in, especially since she had changed into something so casual. I pointed to the back and said, “I think I will change. And then you can tell me what happened back there in the casino.”

  She winked at me as I walked past her on my way to the bedroom. I didn't know what she had in mind, but I needed to stay sober. I didn't need things to get weird between us.

  Closing the door behind me, I pulled off my jeans and shirt and put on cargo shorts and a clean T-shirt. When I hung my jeans up in the closet, the envelope with Abby's winnings fell to the floor. I picked it up and put it in my pocket.

  Back up front, I saw she had nearly finished off her wine, but I didn't offer to refill her glass. Instead, I tossed the envelope full of cash onto the couch beside her and asked, “How'd you do it?”

  She looked up from Bob, who was still in her lap. “What do you mean?”

  “The roulette wheel. You picked the winning numbers twice in a row. How'd you do it?”

  She shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess.”

  I wasn't buying it. No one is that lucky. “There's more to it than luck. Tell me how you did it.”

  She rubbed her eyes with the hand she had been petting Bob with then held her wine glass out to me and said, “Refill it and maybe I'll tell you.”

  Instead of taking the glass, I crossed my arms and said, “No. First, tell me how you did it, and then I'll pour you another.”

  Her lips formed a pout as she thought about her answer. Then she said, “If I tell you, you'll think I'm weird. I don't want you to think that.”

  I laughed. “Abby, it's too late. I already think you're weird. But in a good way.”

  She saw me smile and nodded. “Okay, I'll tell you, but you're not going to believe me.”

  She continued, “Sometimes I can see the future. Not too far in the future and not like someone reading a crystal ball. It's just that if I look at something, I can sometimes see what's going to happen next.

  “That's the way it worked with the roulette wheel. On the first one, the number twenty-eight popped up in my head. So I bet on it. And it won.

  “When we moved to the second wheel, I got a blank. I don't know why, but it was like it was saying, “Don’t bet on me.”

  “When we moved over to the third wheel, I saw the number twenty-four right away and knew it would win. I bet on it, and it did.

  “That's all I can tell you. Sometimes I see things.”

  I nodded. Had I not seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed her, but after seeing her pick two winning numbers in a row, it was hard not to.

  “What about lottery numbers? Do you ever see the winning numbers before they're drawn?”

  She shook her head. “No, it doesn't work that way. I have to be physically close or have some personal connection for it to work. The lottery is too remote, too random.”

  What she said kind of made sense. But I had another question. “Since the roulette wheels were speaking to you, why didn't you stay and win more?”

  She held out her empty glass. “No more answers until you refill me.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  I'd been warned not to let Abby get drunk. But it was just wine, and I'd only poured her half a glass. I couldn't see how a bit more would hurt. I refilled her glass, being sure to stop about halfway.

  She took a sip, put the glass down and said, “The casino people, they always want to talk to you if you start winning too much. I learned that the hard way.

  “So what you have to do is win quickly and then leave. Don’t make a scene; don’t attract a crowd. Just win and leave. That’s what I was trying to do back there. Get out before we were noticed.

  “And we almost made it. If it hadn’t been for the clipboard lady, we would have. The security people watching the cameras must have alerted her. They do that with the big winners; they watch them as they move through the casino.

  “When it looks like a winner is getting ready to leave, they have a hostess step in. They’ll thank the winner and give them a reason to stay longer or to come back.

  “Some places are worse than others. This one wasn't bad. The lady was nice and didn't make us stay any longer than we wanted to. She even offered us a free suite.”

  I nodded. “So you told them we were the Mendozas. If you didn't want them to know who we were, why not make up another name? Something different?”

  Abby picked up her glass and took a sip before she answered. “It's your fault. You told them we were staying in the RV park. If I gave them a different name, they could look it up in the RV reservation system and know it was fake. That would look suspicious, a big winner using a fake name. So I gave them the same name we used when we checked in, the Mendozas.

  I nodded. She was pretty good at this. Like maybe it was how she made a living. I asked her about it. “So, you've dealt with casinos before?”

  She took another sip. “Yeah, a few times. Nothing regular. Just when I need to make some quick cash.”

  “You always win?”

  She shook her head. “No, not always. It looks too suspicious if you always win. Sometimes I lose or I keep my bets small so as not to draw attention.

  “Like I said, I don't do it very often. But when I do, I go in, win a couple of times and leave.”

  She had finished her wine and set it on the table beside the couch. Bob jumped off her lap and ran to the back bedroom. Being free of his weight, she picked up the envelope with her casino winnings and pulled out five one-hundred-dollar bills. She held them out to me. “Here's the hundred I owe
you, plus interest.”

  I didn't need the money. She probably knew that. She probably also knew I wouldn't take what she was offering. If she could see the future, she knew that before she pulled the money out.

  I shook my head. “You keep it. Maybe we'll need it later.”

  She didn't argue. She put the money back in the envelope and asked, “This couch fold out into a bed?”

  “Yeah, it does. You ready to sleep?”

  She yawned and said. “I am. You mind setting it up while I go back and get ready?”

  I smiled. “No, not at all. It'll be ready when you get back up here.”

  She nodded and went to the back.

  I was happy it looked like there would be no bedtime drama about who was sleeping where. I opened the overhead compartment, got the sheets and pillows out and set the couch up as a bed. I made sure everything looked comfy so when she came back up front she wouldn't complain about sleeping on the jackknife sofa.

  She spent a bit of time in the bathroom, washing her face and doing whatever else women do before they go to bed. When she came out, she said, “I'll see you in the morning.” And then, instead of coming up front and getting on the couch, she stepped into my bedroom and locked the door behind her.

  I wasn't sure what she was thinking. It was understood she was to sleep on the couch and I was going to sleep in my own bed. That's the way it worked in my motorhome, guests on the couch and me on my bed.

  I needed to explain it to her.

  I went back and tapped on the bedroom door. “Abby, I probably should have mentioned this earlier. You're on the couch tonight. Not me.”

  From the other side of the door, she said, “That's not the way I see it. I'm the guest, so I get the bed. You get the couch.”

  I tapped on the door again. “Abby, don't make this difficult. That's my bed in there. That's where I sleep. You're supposed to be on the couch.”

  I waited for her reply, but there was nothing but silence.

  I tried again. “Abby, the couch. That's where you're supposed to sleep.”

  This time, she replied. “Walker, I've seen the future. It shows me sleeping in this bed tonight and you on the couch. I can't change it. That's the way the future works.”

  I shook my head. She was using her so-called gift to tell me why I was wrong about where I'd be sleeping. It wasn't a fair fight. If she could see the future, she already knew the outcome. Even if she couldn't see the future, there wasn't much I could do to change the situation. She had locked the door and I wasn't getting in.

  It was clear I wasn't going to win this one. She'd claimed the bed, and she wasn't going to give it up. My only option was to sleep on the couch. So instead of fuming about it, I took care of my bathroom duties, went back up front, and settled in for the night.

  A couple of hours later, I woke to the sounds of Bob scratching on the bedroom door. He was on the outside, wanting in. I knew from past experience he wouldn't quit until the door was opened. He didn't care who was on the bed. He didn't care if she could see the future or not. All he knew was the bed is where he slept at night, and he wanted in.

  He worked on the door for five minutes, scratching and crying, making sure that whoever was in there knew he wasn’t going to go away.

  Eventually, Abby gave in and opened the door for him. As soon as she did, I heard him huff his displeasure about being locked out, followed by his footsteps as he ran for the bed. He was soon in his favorite spot, between the pillow and the window. Abby would have to make room for him, whether she liked it or not.

  This time, she didn't bother to close or lock the door. Maybe she knew that if she did, she'd have to get up and let Bob back out later on. He liked to use his litter box in the middle of the night and would make sure he got his way.

  I drifted off to sleep, wondering how much of the future Abby could really see.

  The next morning, when I woke, she was gone. The door to the bedroom was open and the bed nicely made. The bathroom door was open, and the room had been cleaned up as well. But Abby was nowhere to be found. She wasn't in the back or up front. It was clear that she was gone.

  I pulled on my shoes and went to the side door to check outside. The door was unlocked which meant she had gone out that way, and not locked it behind her. I grabbed my keys and headed out to look for her.

  Out in the parking lot I could see several of the other campers getting ready for the road. They were unhooking from shore power, cranking down their TV antennas, and raising their leveling jacks.

  They were doing what I should have been doing. Instead, I was standing in the parking lot, looking for the woman who had slept in my bed the night before.

  Chapter Fourteen

  She showed up ten minutes later wearing a white V-neck T-shirt tucked into cut-off jean shorts. Black Doc Martens on her feet, mirrored sunglasses hiding her eyes, and a large plastic bag slung over her shoulder.

  When she saw me, she said, “Glad to see you finally got up. Hope you're hungry because I brought breakfast.”

  I nodded. “You went back to the casino?”

  She smiled. “Yeah, I did. I woke up early. Didn't want to disturb you and didn't have anything else to do, so I went back up there.”

  I pointed at a white envelope sticking out of the bag she was carrying. “What's that?”

  “Everything we need to get the free suite when we come back. Plus coupons for free meals and shows.”

  She was proud of what she had gotten. But I had a question.

  “I thought you said they'd want to see my driver's license before they'd give you that stuff.”

  She smiled. “They did. That's why I took your wallet with me. I showed them your Mendoza license, and that's all they needed.”

  “Wait, you took my wallet?”

  “I had to. It was the only way I could get the freebies. Plus I needed some small bills to pay for breakfast. Hope you don't mind.”

  I did mind. She’d left without telling me where she was going. She took my wallet and showed my fake driver's license to casino security. I wasn't happy with any of it. But I had to be careful with what I said and how I said it. I didn't want to start the day out wrong by setting her off. So I calmly said, “You slept in my bed last night. You took my wallet this morning. You showed my driver's license to hotel security. And you used my money to buy breakfast? Am I missing anything?”

  She smiled. “No, that's pretty much it. You hungry?”

  I was. And even though she had done just about everything she could to make me mad, she'd come back with food. That was her saving grace. I couldn't stay mad if I wanted to eat.

  She'd bought the Grand Slam breakfast at one of the casino's cafes, one for her and one for me, eggs, sausage, grits and biscuits. No coffee, but that was okay. I had juice in the fridge.

  We set the food on the dinette and proceeded to chow down. Between bites, I asked a few questions.

  “They recognize you when you went in?”

  She shook her head. “No, new people on duty.”

  “You go back to the roulette wheel?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You win?”

  She tossed me my wallet. “Look inside.”

  I wasn't worried about her taking money out of my wallet. Not for breakfast or anything else. I didn't feel the need to check, so I didn't. I pushed the wallet away.

  But she persisted. “Go ahead, check it. I want you to.”

  I'd been down this road with her before. She didn't give up when she wanted to get her way and probably wouldn't give up this time either. I shrugged and opened the wallet.

  In addition to the three hundred dollars that had been there the night before, there was now another three hundred.

  I looked up at her. “You get lucky again?”

  She nodded.

  “At roulette?”

  She nodded again.

  “They stop you on the way out?”

  “Not this time. I only bet ten dollars. Won once and left.�
�

  I smiled. “Good.”

  When we finished eating, I asked, “You ready to get back on the road?”

  “Yeah, but I need to try Kat's phone again.”

  She punched in her number and listened as the call connected. As before, it went directly to voice mail. Kat wasn't answering.

  Abby put her phone down and cleaned off the table. She put the empty food containers in a plastic bag and said, “I'll take these out and put them in the trash while you get everything else ready.”

  While she was outside, I went to the back and topped off Bob's food and water bowls. The smell from his litter box was starting to grow. One more day and it'd be time to clean it out. It wasn't a job I was looking forward to, but it was one of the responsibilities of living with a cat.

  When Abby came back in, she asked, “We ready?”

  I pointed to the door. “Almost. I need to go out and unhook from shore power. If you need to do anything in the bathroom, now's the time.”

  I stepped outside and went around to the power pedestal and unhooked us. I rolled up the power cord and stowed it in the utility compartment. Then I did a quick walk around and checked the tires. I made sure we weren't leaving anything behind. People with motorhomes do that often—leave chairs, grills, other things they forget.

  I'd once left a woman behind.

  She had stepped out at a service station when I was on the other side pumping gas. I didn't see her get out and thought she was still inside when I pulled away. A few miles down the road she called and let me know that I'd left her. She was pretty upset. Being left behind at a gas station in the heat of the summer in the Everglades is never a pleasant experience.

  It had been my mistake. One that I vowed to never make again. And, yes, I went back and got her.

  After doing the walk-around outside, I went back inside. Abby had raised the shades and the sun streamed in, letting us know it was time to hit the road. Our destination was three hundred miles north, and we wanted to get there well before dark.

  I started the motorhome to let it warm up, but it didn't take the Ford V-10 long. Less than two minutes later, the gauges on the dash showed everything was in good shape. Oil pressure, water temp and amp meter right where they should be. No check engine lights, no problems. We were good to go.