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Rising Water

Page 25

by Wayne Stinnett


  I’d taken her in my arms then and hugged her. She got it.

  A week after the storm, when Jimmy and I came in, exhausted and tired, Naomi was standing at the dock. She saw us, came over, and without a word, took Jimmy by the hand and led him down the docks toward the wrecked boat ramp.

  Rusty and Sidney approached and the three of us watched as they continued all the way out to the sea wall.

  “He’s a good and gentle soul,” Sidney had said. “My niece likes him and she’s worried.”

  Work continued through the rest of September and October. I talked to Savannah again, and she let me talk to Florence. The girl on the other end of the phone sounded a lot more grown up than her years. She told me that she and her mom would be in the Keys at the first of the year, and I should concentrate on just getting my life in order. Sage words from a teenager.

  We became numb to the daily grind. Mounds of debris reaching twenty feet or more were piled on both sides of US-1. Fleets of dump trucks moved back and forth on the Overseas Highway, hauling parts of peoples’ lives to the dumps far up on the mainland. Day by day, they had to go farther, as the amount of debris was overwhelming the landfills in South Florida.

  Then one Thursday in early November, as we were sitting out behind the bar eating lunch, Rusty looked over my shoulder and said, “What the…?”

  I turned and followed his gaze. Half a mile out, a large ship was coming into the bight. It was Ambrosia.

  My sat phone rang on the table at my elbow. I picked it up and saw that it was Sara. “What are you doing here?” I asked. “I’m at the Anchor and can see Ambrosia. Are you aboard?”

  “Yes,” she replied. I could hear her smiling. “We have supplies.”

  I stood and started walking toward the water, my friends following behind me. “We’re pretty much set on food and water,” I said, as I watched the massive anchor splash into the sea. “But we could always use some extra hands.”

  She laughed. “Well, we have those, too. But we didn’t bring much in the way of food and water. We’re loaded with construction people and enough building materials to build four modern houses. See you in a few minutes.”

  As I watched, a launch was quickly lowered and began speeding toward us, Jack Armstrong at the helm. Beside him was John Wilson, and in the bow, her smile visible from a hundred yards, was Sara.

  Jimmy stepped up beside me, Naomi holding his hand. Rusty and Sidney came up on my other side.

  “We should have a party, bro,” Rusty said. “Tomorrow’s the tenth, ya know.”

  “Oohrah,” I grunted softly.

  “Semper Fi,” Rusty acknowledged.

  The End

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  The Charity Styles Caribbean Thriller Series

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  Fallen Out

  Fallen Palm

  Fallen Hunter

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  Fallen Mangrove

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  Fallen Tide

  Fallen Angel

  Fallen Hero

  Rising Storm

  Rising Fury

  Rising Force

  Rising Charity

  Rising Water

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