Mango Key

by Bill H Myers

  She knew what I was thinking because she asked, “Walker, you thinking about that night?”

  I nodded but didn't say anything.

  She reached over and took my hand. “It was mean of me to do that. But you have to admit it was kind of funny.”

  I smiled and let go of her hand. “Sure, it was funny. And someday I'll get you back. Maybe sooner than you think.”

  She smiled. “You go ahead and try. It'll be interesting to see what you come up with.”

  She nodded toward the viewing platform. “Looks like quite a crowd over there.”

  She was right. Most of the visitors had followed the “Gator Viewing” signs and were now standing on the platform looking down at the large prehistoric lizards just below their feet.

  I really couldn't blame them. The viewing platform at Oasis is one of the best places in Florida to see alligators in the wild without having to pay an admission fee or having to worry about being attacked by one.

  Lori took my hand and said, “Come on, let's go look at them. You know you want to.”

  I did want to go look at the gators. But I didn't want her to know. So instead of leading the way, I held back and let her pull me down the path that led to the viewing platform.

  Halfway there, our progress was blocked by about thirty Japanese tourists. All had arm bands with the logo we'd seen on the side of the bus we had parked next to. The way they were bunched up, I figured they were listening to the tour guide telling them about the park.

  But as we got closer, I saw it wasn't the tour guide standing in front of the group. It was Buck. He was answering questions, signing autographs and posing for photos. Apparently someone in the tour group had recognized him. Word had spread that a famous Hollywood movie star was nearby and this was a chance to get his photo and autograph.

  We stood behind the crowd and watched as Buck entertained his audience. He smiled and joked and posed for photos. The group would laugh when he answered a question or spoke a well-known line from one of his movies. One lady asked him to hold her baby while she shot a photo and he obliged. He smiled and waved while she and the others held their cell phones to get close-up photos and videos.

  This continued for almost ten minutes until an older man wearing a blue blazer stepped up and thanked Buck for being so patient with his fans. The man turned to the group and announced the tour bus would be leaving in five minutes.

  Several people applauded politely as Buck took a bow. The group then moved away, excitedly talking about him and showing each other the photos they had taken with him.

  After the crowd had dispersed, Lori walked over to Buck and asked, “How about me? Can I get an autograph?”

  He smiled. “Sure, but you'll have to pay. The price is a turkey sandwich.”

  Lori nodded. “I can do that. Let's go back to the motorhome and I'll make one for you.”

  We got to the motorhome just in time to see the tour bus slowly backing out of its space. While we watched, several passengers opened their windows and shouted, “Buck! Buck! Buck!”

  He waved and they shot more photos. Since Lori and I were standing next to him, we'd probably be in some of the photos and would soon end up on Facebook pages all over the world standing next to the famous Buck Waverly. Maybe we'd get lucky and they'd edit our faces out before they posted them.

  After the tour bus pulled away, we went back inside the motorhome. Lori went to the fridge and got out the things she needed to make Buck's sandwich. I went over to help but she stopped me. “Just stand back and watch,” she said. “You'll see how to make a real turkey sandwich.”

  She was holding a knife so I didn't argue. I stepped back and stayed out of her way. I watched as she cut slices of bread from the loaf of fresh baked sour dough she'd bought at Publix. She spread mayonnaise then stacked on lettuce, Swiss cheese, sliced tomato, and smoked turkey. She sprinkled a dusting of black pepper on the turkey and put the sandwich on a plate. After slicing it diagonally she handed it to Buck.

  She made two more, one for me and one for her. While she was doing this I grabbed two bottles of tea and a Coke and moved to the table, where we sat and ate. Buck was the first to speak. “Lori, this is the best turkey sandwich I've had in a long time. Better than what I've been getting at home.”

  She smiled. “Don't you dare tell Polly that. That'll get you in trouble.”

  He shook his head. “It's not her sandwiches; it's the ones I make myself. They don't hold a candle to yours.”

  Lori smiled. “It's the sour dough bread that makes the difference. Try that next time, you'll see.”

  After we finished lunch, I checked the GPS and it showed we were about an hour from where we would be turning south then another hundred twenty-five miles to Key West.

  Assuming no traffic jams, we would reach Uncle Leo's campground around five.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Leaving Oasis behind, we got back on Alligator Alley and headed east toward Miami. Traffic wasn't bad and we made good time. As before, Lori sat up front in the passenger seat beside me, and Buck roamed in the back between the couch and the bedroom.

  When we reached Krome Avenue on the outskirts of Miami, I took a right and we headed south. We had traveled two hundred miles since leaving Englewood and used about half a tank of gas. I'd read that the closer you got to Key West the more things cost, including fuel, so I wanted to stop and top off the tanks before we reached the overseas highway.

  Sixteen miles down Krome Avenue, I found what I was looking for. A Walmart Super Center with a gas station. As with most Walmarts, the fueling lanes at the pumps were wide and easy to get into, important when you are driving a motorhome.

  The far right lane was open and I pulled into it. I got out on the driver's side, ran my card through the pump's reader, and started filling the tanks. The price of regular was ten cents more than it was back in Englewood, but probably a lot less than it would be in Key West.

  After topping off the tank and pulling the receipt, I climbed back into the motorhome. Buck had taken Lori's place in the passenger seat.

  “Where's Lori?” I asked.

  “She's in the back. I think on the bed.”

  I nodded. She was probably going to take a nap while we drove. I started the motorhome and eased away from the pumps. When traffic cleared I pulled back out onto Dixie Highway, and headed south.

  Five minutes later, just as we were leaving Homestead, my phone chimed with an incoming call. Normally I wouldn't have bothered answering while driving, but the caller ID said, “Lori Joy”.

  She was in the back on the bed and I was curious as to why she might be calling on her phone instead of just walking up front to talk, so I answered.

  Before I could say anything she said, “Walker, you know where I am?”

  “Yeah, back in the bedroom, right?”

  “No, I'm not in the bedroom. Guess again.”

  “In the bathroom?”

  “No Walker, I'm not in the bathroom. I'm standing in the Walmart parking lot.”

  “Are you sure? You're not in the motorhome?”

  “Walker, turn the motorhome around. Come back and get me. Now.”

  I put the phone against my chest and looked over at Buck. “Lori's on the phone. She says she's back at Walmart. She says we left her. Would you go to the back bedroom and make sure she's not there?”

  Buck unbuckled his seat belt and headed to the back. A moment later, he returned. “She's not back there. Not in the bathroom either. ”

  “You checked? Everywhere? Even the shower?”

  “Yes Walker, I checked, she's not in the motorhome.”

  I could hear her on the phone, calling out my name.

  “Walker, do you hear me? I'm in the Walmart parking lot. It's hot out here. Come back and get me. This is no joke.”

  This wasn't good. Leaving Lori behind wasn't going to make her happy. I slowed the motorhome and pulled over into an empty parking lot.

  “Lori, I'll be back as soon as I ca
n get this thing turned around. But how did we miss you? I thought you were in the motorhome.”

  “Walker, I don't want to talk about it now. Just come back and get me.”

  As soon as traffic cleared, I pulled the motorhome across the road and headed back toward Walmart.

  Buck shook his head. “You know she's going to be mad.”

  “Yeah Buck, I expect she will be. But you're the one who told me she was in the bedroom.”

  “I know, but you should have checked. When she gets in, you going to blame this on me?”

  I shook my head. “No, I'm not. It's my fault. I should have checked.”

  Up ahead, I could see the Walmart sign on our right. I slowed and took the exit that led me into the parking lot. Looking toward the fuel lanes I saw Lori. She waved to get my attention and I flashed the headlights so she knew I saw her.

  I pulled up close, put the motorhome in park and met her at the side door.

  “Lori, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to leave you behind. I thought you were in the bedroom. I wouldn't have left if I had known you weren't in here with us.”

  She looked at me, shook her head and climbed into the motorhome. She grabbed a paper towel from the kitchen, wiped the sweat off her face and plopped down on the couch.

  “You left me behind. And it was hot out there.”

  “Lori, I'm so sorry.”

  “You should be. You left me. I saw you drive away and you didn't even stop. If I hadn't called, you probably would have gone all the way to Key West without me.”

  She was right, I probably would have. That would have been really bad. I needed to show her how sorry I was. “Lori, can I get you anything? A bottle of water, a towel, anything?”

  She nodded. “A bottle of water would be good. And yeah, a towel to wipe away the sweat. I don't know if I mentioned it, but it was hot out there.”

  I grabbed a cold water from the fridge and handed it to her. While she sipped the water, I headed to the back and grabbed a clean towel from the bathroom cabinet. When I got back up front, Buck was sitting beside her holding her hand.

  She looked up at me and said, “Walker, you're off the hook. Buck told me what happened. He said you asked about me before you drove off and he told you I was in the back. You believed him so it's not totally your fault. But, next time, make sure I'm in here with you before you drive off.”

  Buck had stepped up and taken the bullet. But it was still my fault. I should have checked before driving off.

  “Lori, I promise I won't leave you behind again. But how did we not see you when you got out?”

  She took a sip of water. “You were pumping gas on the left side of the motorhome. Buck was in the bathroom and I went out the side door on the right. Neither of you noticed.

  “I went into the station to get a lottery ticket. When I came out, you were gone. If I hadn't had my phone with me, I would have really been stuck.”

  “Lori, I didn't mean to leave you behind. And I promise it won't happen again.”

  “It's okay, Walker. I know you didn't do it on purpose. And even if you did, you can't get rid of me that easily.”

  She put her water bottle down, got up off the couch and kissed me on the cheek. “Walker, here's a new rule. When we stop, you will always check to make sure I'm in the motorhome before you drive off. Got that?”

  I nodded. “Yes, I promise. From now on, I'll always check.”

  “Good. Now I'm going to go to the back to freshen up. Don't drive off until I come back up here.”

  As she headed to the back, I saw Buck doing his best to keep from laughing. He was the one who told me she was in the motorhome. It was his fault that we almost left her behind. But I wasn't going to hold it against him. I should have checked. Lesson learned.

  A few minutes later, Lori came back up front, smiling. She said, “I'm going call Polly and tell her that the two of you drove away and left me standing in the Walmart parking lot. She'll get a kick out of hearing that.”

  She sat down on the couch, buckled in and said, “Walker, take me to Key West.”

  With Lori safely in the motorhome and Buck in the passenger seat, everyone was accounted for. I put the motorhome in gear and called back to her, “We're getting ready to move. You ready?”

  From behind me she said, “All set. Drive on.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  After pulling out of the Homestead Walmart the second time in less than an hour, we got back on the Dixie Highway, aka US 1, and headed south toward Key West. Buck was still in the passenger seat beside me. Lori was behind me on the couch. After the excitement of leaving her behind had worn off, Buck had been quiet. It looked like he was napping. His eyes were closed and he was breathing slowly.

  Behind me, I heard Lori's phone ring. She answered and even though I didn't intend to listen in on her call, it was hard not to hear in the confined spaces of the motorhome.

  It went something like this.

  “Hey Polly.”

  “Yeah, we're still on the road. Just left Homestead.”

  “He's doing fine. He's up front in the passenger seat.”

  “Yeah, he told us about that. And you're okay with him spending the night with another woman?”

  I couldn't hear Polly's reply, but whatever it was it made Lori laugh. Buck heard the laugh and it brought him out of his nap. He looked back at Lori then turned to me. “They're laughing about one of us. I'm hoping it's you.”

  I nodded and continued to listen in on Lori's call. She was telling Polly about being left behind at Walmart.

  “I got out to get a snack and he drove off without me. They didn't even notice I was gone. I had to call them so they'd come back and get me.”

  Again, Lori laughed at something Polly said. Then she reached around my seat and punched me in the arm. It wasn't a hard punch but enough to get my attention. “Polly told me to do that. Said you deserved it for leaving me behind.”

  I couldn't argue with her about that. Leaving Lori behind was a mistake. One she wouldn't let me soon forget.

  Keeping one hand on the wheel, I rubbed my arm where Lori had punched me. “Tell Polly I've learned my lesson. I won't be leaving anyone behind from now on.”

  Lori continued her phone conversation for another minute then said, “I've got another call coming in. I've got to go.”

  She ended the call with Polly and took the incoming call. As before, I could hear her side of the conversation.

  “We're on our way. Just leaving Homestead. We should be there before dark.”

  “Good, I'll call you when we get there.”

  She ended the call.

  “That was my sister. She invited us to dinner tonight. She wants to meet both you and Buck. Is that okay?”

  I nodded. “Sounds good to me, I'm looking forward to meeting her. What about you, Buck?”

  He looked over at me. “Dinner with Lori's sister? I think I can do that. As long we aren't out too late. Did she say when we were going to get together?”

  From the back, Lori said, “Yeah, around seven.”

  “Good, that'll work for me.”

  For the next few miles we drove in silence as we made our way through the Southern Everglades. It was a peaceful drive, but I was wondering when we'd start to see water.

  I didn't have to wait long.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Thirty minutes after leaving Homestead, a sign on the side of the road announced we were traveling on the Overseas Highway. Soon after that, the road started to change. Instead of being bordered by the untamed mangroves of the Everglades, we started seeing hints we would soon be crossing over water.

  The first clue came as we approached a sign announcing Manatee Bay Marina. As we passed the sign, I looked off to our left and saw the marina with rows of boat slips filled with large pleasure boats. Just beyond the boats, a protected harbor with barrier islands in the distance.

  A mile beyond the marina, we crossed a long causeway with expansive bay views on both sides. The cau
seway connected with a bridge that took us over Lake Surprise and then into Key Largo. In Key Largo, the two-lane road turned into four lanes and many of the cars behind us moved over into the left lane and passed.

  I was glad they were able to get around because it looked like there weren't going to be many passing opportunities on the Overseas Highway. I didn't like holding up traffic any more than they liked being behind me.

  In Key Largo, I saw lots of small mom and pop type businesses on both sides of the road. Small cafes, bars, dive shops and glass bottom boat tours; the kind of businesses you expect to find in the Keys, owned by people who moved there to escape corporate America.

  But corporate America seemed to be getting a foothold. Some of the quaint old buildings had been bulldozed, the land under them flattened and blacktopped. Shiny new structures that seemed out of place in the Keys had been built. The small mom and pops were being replaced by the likes of Starbucks, Burger King, and Walgreens. If this trend continued, Key Largo would soon look and feel like a strip mall from mainland America.

  It would be a shame if that happened. Hopefully the locals would fight it trying to keep the Key Largo vibe alive and well.

  Leaving Key Largo behind, the four-lane road turned back into two lanes and we followed the long line of traffic heading south. Being Tuesday and not the weekend, traffic wasn't bad and most drivers seemed to understand that there was no use in getting impatient. There aren't many places to pass in the keys and you're not going to go any faster than the car in front of you. The best thing to do is just go with the flow and enjoy the view. That's what we did.

  The views definitely got better the further south we went. From Key Largo, we passed through a number of smaller towns, including Plantation Key, Windley Key and Islamorada. Like Key Largo, these small towns were filled with shops offering food, drink, and entertainment.

  Some of the shops looked inviting but we didn't stop. Parking was tight in front of most of these places and not a good fit for the motorhome. The motorhome did have some advantages though. Sitting up high, we had spectacular views as we crossed the bridges linking each of the keys.