by Paul Carr
A pelican flew down and perched on a timber nearby. Prince Alfred jumped down from the chair, skipped over to the rail, and sat, so he could get a closer look.
The girl looked past Sam toward the dock. “Mom. Over here,” she called.
Sam turned and saw a woman standing next to the gangway. She was very attractive, with long black hair and lips like ripe plums.
“This is the man who found Beamer.”
The woman smiled, stepped aboard, and reached out her hand. “Hello, I’m Natalie.”
Sam shook her hand and said, “Sam Mackenzie.”
“I can’t thank you enough for watching Beamer. He looked very well-fed.”
“You’re welcome; I’m glad I could help.” Sam glanced at Prince Alfred, smiled, and considered telling them how the dog had saved his life, maybe twice, but decided that might be too much of a story to tell.
They talked for a couple of minutes and Sam offered them drinks, but Natalie said they had to be going.
“I could use a soda,” the girl said and stepped over and sat down on the deck next to the dog.
Sam told Natalie to have a seat, went inside, and brought back two colas. “I brought two, in case you change your mind.”
“Okay, why not.”
They sat in silence for several seconds, and Natalie said, “Well, I’m glad to know why he’s been moping around. He just wanted to see you.”
Sam thought about Amy’s misty eyes when he had told her about Jack letting the girl take the dog from the beach.
“I know someone else who would like to see him, too, if you don’t mind leaving a number.”
She looked at Sam and smiled, like it might be a come-on line, but also like she might not mind him calling her.
“Sure. Beamer’s a good judge of character.”
She pulled a card from her purse and handed it to Sam. The card indicated she worked for a local law firm as an attorney.
“This is my cell number. When I’m not at work, I spend a lot of time taking Christi to her swim class and other activities. I’m a single parent.”
Sam glanced at the card again and wondered how it might be, dating an attorney. His lifestyle might scare her off, but maybe not, and she might even help him out of a legal jam someday. Then the image of Carling floated behind his eyes and the dream faded.
Natalie and Christie left a couple minutes later and Sam went with them to the dock and watched them walk away. Prince Alfred seemed to be perfectly happy to go with them, investigating a skipping mullet along the way. Christi stood on tiptoes to whisper something in her mother’s ear and then turned and grinned at Sam. Natalie seemed embarrassed, but smiled and waved. Prince Alfred turned for one last look and barked.
Sam sauntered back to the deck and leaned on the rail. He called J.T. and told him about Prince Alfred.
“No kidding. Man, that’s great news. That’ll make Amy’s day. She’s mentioned that dog about ten times since the night you told us what happened.”
They talked another minute or so, and Sam ended the call and looked out over the water. The pelican had flown away some time after the dog left. Clouds, like white castles, floated in the sky, and a jet glided overhead on its approach to Miami International. Gulls squawked nearby, fighting over crumbs of bread. Notes from an old rock song drifted on a warm breeze.
He wondered if he could get used to this sort of thing all the time. No more guns, no more close calls, and no more stress. That sounded pretty good. Of course, someone from his past might show up occasionally, and he might have to deal with them. But he could manage that.
If careful with his money, he could live several years on what he had stashed away. Just piddle around the boat, drink some beer, do some fishing, and watch the sunsets. He might start it off by taking a cruise. Maybe go over to Freeport, then down to Nassau, and swing back by the Keys. What could be bad about that? People worked thirty or forty years to get there, and he had a front-row seat.
Just watching those sunsets.
Day after day.
Sam thought about it a few more minutes, got another beer and ambled down the dock to see Jack Craft about that job.
