Gathering Storm

by Sherilyn Decter

  “We were out in it yesterday and it seemed fine. And please call me Edith.”

  “Well, ma’am, as sure as God’s a possum, it’s going to need some attention. The electrical looks like it’s been patched together by some fella down the street. And the fuel filters could walk to town they’re so filthy. Your engines gotta breathe, ma’am.”

  “Edith.”

  “If it don’t get air it won’t run.”

  “Fine. I take your word for it.”

  “And your sea strainer is packed with seaweed, Miz Edith. You gotta clean it out at least once a month. All this is basic maintenance you should have been doing.”

  Darwin turns to leave, shaking his head and muttering, “I don’t know what dames are thinking, or not thinking, when they don’t do this stuff. Just common sense.”

  “Mr. McKenzie, I don’t think we’re finished here.” Edith’s arms are crossed and her foot is tapping. “We won’t need to use the Rex for a few days, and I want to get this place swept out and ready for business tonight. That’s the priority. Can you grab the broom, please?” The last word grates.

  “Nope, I’m going to head into town and see about a few repairs for the Rex. And then I thought I might do a bit of fishing off the dock. The boy says you got redfish there.”

  “I thought you were here to help. I need to get the barroom swept.”

  “Miz Edith, this is going to go a lot smoother if we get a better understanding here. Henry asked that I come and give you a hand. I don’t work for you. You or Leroy can sweep, but I’m the only one that can try and get the trawler running. So that’s what I’m going to do. And fishing’s mighty important to me. It lets me clear my head. I’ll be back shortly, hopefully with parts, and I expect that I’ll be working on the boat for most of the afternoon. Henry gave me instructions to clean-sweep more than floors.”

  Edith faces him, arms crossed, frowning.

  Darwin goes toe-to-toe. He plants his hat firmly on his head. “Now, I’ll let you get to your sweeping.”

  Through the barroom window, Edith keeps an eye on him as he heads up to the parking pad. His truck is parked beside hers. Dented and rusted, it’s seen better days, though it starts first time. She lets out an exasperated sigh.

  “Henry, what were you thinking? That man’s impossible. Stubborn as a mule.”

  Chapter 45

  E dith’s been staring at the Rex since before sunrise. Leroy brewed the coffee, then joined her. They watch the trawler tied to the dock—expertly.

  “Can I sleep on the boat, Miz Edith?”

  “No, Leroy. I can’t see where Mr. Darwin finds the space to lie down. I hardly think there’s room for two.”

  She inhales the strong brew. “Why don’t you run down there and tell him that the coffee’s ready?”

  Leroy heads down and then comes running back. “Miz Edith, Miz Edith. He’s not there.”

  “Who’s not there?” Darwin appears at the screen door with a cup of coffee.

  Edith jumps, spilling her coffee and cursing a blue streak.

  Darwin shakes his head at her then looks at Leroy.

  “What? He’s heard worse.” Edith rolls her eyes. “Leroy, get me a rag, will you?”

  “Sorry about scaring you, ma’am. Let myself in the back door, helped myself. Thought you’d hear me. Took off early this morning to talk to some of the fellas down at the pier about where to find a new boat.”

  Leroy has hopped to attention. Edith mops at the spilled coffee. “A new boat? What about the Rex?”

  “I think we may have to retire her from rum running, Miz Edith. I went over her from stem to stern and I’ll be able to get her running, but even with swapped out filters and a bit of a buff and polish, she’s not what you want.”

  Edith slowly nods. “She’ll never be a racehorse.”

  “Exactly. We need a faster boat, something more reliable if we’re going to outrun the pirates.”

  “And the Coast Guard,” Edith says.

  “I’m not too worried about them. It’s the pirates that are our real problem. It’s my neck out there, ma’am, and I’d just as soon be in a boat as fast as them that are hunting me rather than an old rust bucket like the Rex.”

  “You’ve just got here and already you’re the expert?”

  “I’ve a bit of experience in that regard. About the boat?”

  “I’m not sure now is the time for a new boat. We can probably get by a bit longer with the Rex.”

  Darwin snorts and crosses his arms. “Your decision, of course. But a faster boat is the right thing to do if you’re serious about all this. Now, it’s a different matter entirely if all you’re doing is playing at running a blind tiger. If this is just a nice little hobby you got for yourself.”

  If I’m serious about this? Her jaw aches from clenching it, something she’s done often enough since Darwin arrived. She stares at the Rex; a picture forms of empty shelves and a steadily decreasing balance in her bank account. Who the heck does he think he is?

  “This is not a hobby, just not quite as successful as I’d like it. I take Gator Joe’s very seriously, Mr. McKenzie. I have my money and my reputation wrapped up in this place.”

  “The way I see it, Miz Edith, you need to invest in a boat the same way you invested in the renovations to Gator’s. It’s just another cost of doing business. In fact, it IS your business. You can’t run a dry bar.”

  “So everyone keeps telling me. It’s not like I’m stupid, you know. I know I need liquor.” Edith folds her arms across her body. “Here I thought you were sleeping in, tired from the long drive yesterday, but you’ve really been lying awake plotting.”

  “It’s strange how common sense isn’t that common anymore. I’ll be out on the boat. Give me a shout when you decide you want to actually start running Gator’s.”

  Edith looks at his retreating back and then at her empty shelves. “Okay, I take your point. No booze, no customers. A faster boat. Where do we do that?”

  Darwin turns. “I’ll talk to a fella up the coast called Louis Nuta. I’ve worked with him before. He’s solid. He has a bunch of airplane engines he bought at the end of the war. Most of them are still on pallets.”

  “Shouldn’t we talk to somebody about a boat before we talk to Mr. Nuta about a motor?”

  “Not a motor, Miz Edith. An engine. Nuta sells engines. That’s a whole different thing. It’s like this. When you’re running rum, the boat is basically a powerful engine. It’s the most important thing, and we should get two by the way. The engines are surrounded by a shell of wood to keep them afloat. That shell’s the boat. Keeping the engines and cargo afloat is the boat’s only job. Once we nail down which engines we want, then we go find a boat.”

  “So how much does a plane engine cost?”

  “Five thousand dollars.”

  Edith squeaks.

  “And like I said, we’ll need two. But we can make our money back in a couple of trips. Especially if we do a bit of rum running on the side.”

  “Five thousand and we need two?” Edith’s doing quick math in her head and grimaces.

  “Pirates got two and we gotta be faster than them. If we’re not, we might as well surrender the booze and the money as soon as we see ‘em ‘cause they’ll be on us like flies on honey. A slow boat is no good to you.”

  “It’s a lot of money Darwin.”

  “You can’t get lard unless you boil the hog, Miz Edith. If you’re tight for money, we can do a bit of bootlegging to recover our costs. And you’ll have a full shed of your own.”

  Should I call Henry? Or even talk it over with Harley? He’d know how important a fast boat would be. Edith pauses. In her mind she’s back in the whiskey six car with Mickey, roaring down those back roads in a fast car with a load of bootleg liquor in the trunk. What am I doing? I know how important a fast boat is. And this is my business, not anybody else’s.

  “If we’re going to buy a new boat, I want one with a nicer cabin. The one on the Rex is bas
ically a cover over the wheel. It would be nice to be able to have a little kitchen.”

  “Galley.”

  “A galley. And a deck for sunbathing. I’ve seen them in Miami. We can find something there, I’m sure.”

  “No. Like I said before, we want minimal space for crew and maximum space for cargo. No fancy stuff.”

  “No galley?”

  “It’s not for joy rides and pleasure cruises around Biscayne Bay. It’s got a job to do, and so do I.”

  “What you’re telling me is that, on your word alone, and you’re a fella I just met, I need to spend ten thousand dollars on two airplane engines and a new boat. That’s a lot of trust, Darwin. Maybe I should think about this.”

  “I promised Henry that I’d do right by you. This is what you need to do. Choose to do it or not, but you’re wasting both our time if you’re not prepared to do what it takes to be successful.”

  Another impulsive decision to regret later, or relying on the experience of someone who knows what they’re talking about?

  “I see. Well, let’s do what needs to be done. Once we decide on the motors, we’ll find a boat.” Edith stands and starts toward her bedroom to fetch her hat. “Leroy, Mr. Darwin and I are going to see a man about a motor.”

  “Engine.”

  “A man about an engine. Can you man the fort here until we get back?” Leroy nods.

  “You don’t need to come along, Miz Edith. You don’t know anything about engines or boats. You stay here and sweep or enjoy your coffee or whatever it is you do. I can manage. I’ll make the arrangements and then you can pay them after.”

  “Excuse me? I’m not staying behind. My money, my boat.”

  “Of course. Didn’t think you’d be interested. It seems that it’s my job to smuggle it and your job to pour it.”

  “I may surprise you what I’m interested in, Mr. McKenzie. Now, first stop is the bank in Miami and then let’s go see that man about… an engine.”

  Leroy follows them up to the parking pad. Edith goes to get behind the wheel of her truck, but Darwin puts a hand on her arm. “We’ll take my truck and I’ll drive.”

  “Nonsense. I doubt whether your truck would get us into Coconut Grove, let alone into Miami. We’ll take my truck. It’s newer.”

  “Your truck looks like we have money to spend. We’ll take my truck.”

  Edith plants her feet firmly on the ground. “I’d be more comfortable in my truck.”

  “Comfort’s not the point, Miz Edith.” Darwin gets behind the wheel of his truck. “She’ll get us where we need to go. And she’ll save us money when we negotiate. In your truck we look like we’re made of money. You coming or staying?”

  Edith, cheeks bright red, stomps around and wrenches open the passenger door on Darwin’s truck. “Fine. Just remember, it’s because of a good business strategy, and has nothing to do with whether I can drive or not.” Sitting ramrod, she glares out the window as Leroy waves them goodbye.

  * * * *

  Louis Nuta rolls back the warehouse door. Inside, filtered sun makes its way through dirty windows. Edith sniffs the damp, earth floor. Crated engines of various sizes are lined up against the walls.

  Nuta leads Darwin over to one of the crates. Edith hurries to catch up.

  He pats the top of the crate and turns to Darwin. “The Liberty L-12. This here’s what most smugglers are using. Coast Guard ain’t got ‘em yet. You’ll want two. Whatever boat you buy, these babies will reach 25 mph fully loaded with liquor. Toss the load over the side and you’ll get it up to 45-50 mph. Nothing will be able to catch you.”

  Edith steps forward. “I didn’t know you could put an airplane engine in water.”

  Nuta looks at Darwin and rolls his eyes. “Water is bad, saltwater is worse, ma’am. Extensive mechanical changes are required to make this baby reliable in saltwater, but it’s worth it. Seawater causes quick cylinder wear, requiring upkeep beyond capabilities of most Coast Guard mechanics. That means you’ll have the faster boat and probably for a while.”

  “They’re hard to fix?” Edith asks.

  “Not any more than any other engine. It’s not a question of fixin’ ‘em. Rum runners ain’t any better than the Coast Guard at keeping Liberty engines running. They merely have the money to be able to replace them more often,” Nuta says, his back to Edith. “Rum runners run their boats wide open for hours at a time, which wrecks the engine.”

  “Can’t be helped,” Darwin says.

  “Part of the job,” Nuta says with a nod. “I’d recommend replacing the engines every three months.”

  “How much does it cost?” Edith asks.

  Nuta looks at Darwin. “Normally I sell ‘em for five thousand, but if you get two, I can give them to you at four grand each.”

  Darwin turns to Edith.

  If the house doesn’t sell soon, at least I’ll be able to earn the money back bootlegging. Edith nods. “We’ll take two.”

  Nuta says, “Plus modifications to the engines, plus modifications to the boat. But you’ll be uncatchable out on the water. Now, if you’re looking to up yer risk some, I’ve got cheaper motors.”

  Edith swallows. “If this is what we need, then this is what we’ll get.”

  Nuta looks from Darwin to Edith.

  “She’s the boss,” Darwin says.

  She holds out her hand. “I presume cash is okay?”

  Nuta shrugs. He shakes her hand, grinning. “Cash is king. A lady smuggler. Now I seen everything.”

  Edith and Darwin walk back to the truck. “Okay, we have two of Nuta’s engines. Now what?” she says, climbing into the passenger seat.

  “Now we see a man about a boat. Let me do the talking, okay?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “We’re not going to get a good price if he thinks we’re buying a boat. He’s got to be the one selling the boat.”

  “Ah, I understand.”

  “And you look like you got a couple of grand in that purse. Like I said, let me do the talking.”

  The cypress trees flash past on the way to the marina. Edith’s window is down and she lets the wind clear away her frustration with Darwin’s sass.

  “I was talking to a fella this morning at the marina. I think he has something we’d be interested in.”

  Floating at the dock in Coconut Grove is a fast, little ‘mosquito boat’. Edith recognizes the style. It’s similar to the boat Red Shannon was driving the first day I arrived in Miami. Hopefully, we’ll have better luck.

  Edith stands in the shade watching the men crawl over the boat and haggle. Darwin waves her over.

  “I’m going to take her on a shake-down cruise before we finalize this. Want to come?” Grinning and more excited than she thought she’d be, Edith hops aboard.

  Darwin fires up the motor. “I figure we can take out this motor and sell it to offset the cost of the Liberty engines.”

  “I like that idea. So, this is the one?”

  Darwin nods, hands on the wheel and heading out to open water.

  “What will we call her?” she asks.

  “I was thinking Marianne after my mother.”

  “Well, Darwin McKenzie. I didn’t peg you for a romantic man. That’s a lovely thing to do.”

  Darwin runs his hand along the wheel. “Ships are gals, Miz Edith, and a boy can always count on his ma.”

  Edith runs her hand along the gunnel. “I think she’s beautiful.”

  Darwin grunts. “She’ll do.”

  “What next?”

  “Next we scrape the hull. Leroy can polish the wood and brass.” Darwin looks up from admiring the hull and sees Edith’s expression. “If you can spare him.”

  When they dock the Marianne, Edith wanders off to the side while Darwin negotiates. “The engine’s rough and I don’t like the way the bilges look. I think I’ll keep looking.” He walks toward Edith. As he reaches her, the boat owner shouts a new price. Darwin looks at Edith, winks, and turns back to the owner. “Sold.”


  Edith returns to Gator Joe’s in the truck. Darwin runs the Marianne over to Nuta’s. Over the next week, he puts in a lot of time there. While Nuta is making the modifications to the airplane engines and getting them installed on the boat, Darwin makes changes to the Marianne, getting her ready for her new life as a smuggler’s boat.

  * * * *

  In the evening, as Darwin nurses his beer, Marianne’s modifications are a great topic of discussion at Gator’s. Everyone has advice, either firsthand, or knows a friend. Harley’s experience as a small-time rum runner and Billy’s mechanical ability come in handy. They have a lot of opinions on the matter and it makes for some interesting evenings. Over a cold beer or three, Darwin works his way into the small community at Gator’s.

  Many nights he silently thanks Henry for asking him to come to Gator Joe’s. There are new rivers, streams, and canals to fish in. Deep-water trophies beckon from out in Biscayne Bay. He’s working with a magnificent boat—if it were any faster, he’d catch up to tomorrow. New friends haven’t heard all his stories. Then there’s Gator’s itself. There’s promise here, and Darwin has a fisherman’s patience to wait it out.

  It’s an exciting day when he cruises the Marianne to the mooring close to the end of the dock in front of Gator’s. Leroy runs down to help tie her off. The Rex looks dismal, bobbing on the other side of the dock.

  Standing, watching them, Edith smiles. “I’ve got the bar, I’ve got a fast boat for smuggling, now all I need are thirsty customers.”

  Chapter 46

  T he wind whips the tops of the palm trees and the surf crashes onto the beach. The skies are leaden gray and the threatened downpour arrives early in the morning. The driving rain rattles the windowpanes at Gator Joe’s.

  Edith shouts into the telephone. “I’m sorry, Mae. I didn’t catch that last bit. This storm’s playing havoc with the reception.”

  “I asked where he came from.” Mae’s voice crackles down the line.

  “He’s a cousin of Henry Mercer. I’d had a bit of trouble out here and Henry thought I could use some help.”