Page 19 of On the Line

Mateo looked over lazily. “George doesn’t talk to anybody but me. You know that.”

“Alright. Well,youtell him I can’t go fishing with you guys anymore.”

Mateo looked up from the hook in his hand, the line wrapped around his fingers as he wove an intricate knot. “Ooof,” he said. “No way man, that’s on you.”

I wanted to ask him how to best approach it, but his look was clear. He wanted nothing to do with it. “Which is why I asked for his number in the first place.” I chewed on my bottom lip. “I didn’t think it’d be smart to stop by his house right now,” I added, “with all the heat.”

He dug in his pocket and pulled out an old receipt, and with a stub pencil from his tackle box, he scribbled a number on the back. “Call from a pay phone, not your house. And don’t say anything stupid.” He passed the scrap of paper over to me.

“I won’t. Thanks man.” I scrunched it in one hand and pushed up from the camp chair, the aluminum tubes sinking a little more in the sand. “See you around.”

“Good luck with that, Slick,” he gave me a cautious look before turning back to knotting the fly in his lap.

I wasn’t looking forward to the call, but there was too much on the line. I had to win Ellie back.

Soft sand filled my flip flops. I left the beach for the crushed coral gravel lot, kicking one foot and then the other to dislodge the clumps caught between my toes. Trotting up to the largest of the rustic old fishing shacks, nervousness stirred in my gut.

An old man sat behind a bare wooden board that served as a counter. Nodding my chin toward the phone on the outside wall of the porch, I asked, “Can I use the pay phone?”

“Costs a quarter,” the man mumbled around a half-smoked cigar, puffs of sweet smoke punctuating every word.

“Do you have change?” I held up a $100 dollar bill, my allowance to myself for the week.

The old man sighed and hit a button on the ancient cash register flanked by an old coffee can filled with individually wrapped jerky, and a torn cardboard box of lead fishing lures. The register dinged and the drawer creaked open. “Here, just take a quarter. Pay me next time you’re here.”

“Thanks, I will, for sure.” As long as I survived the call I was about to make, he had my word.

The bell over the door jingled and I felt the blast of heat as I left the cool shade of the bait shop and stepped back into the thick humid air. We were only a month into spring according to the calendar but it already felt like the middle of summer in the Keys.

Dropping the quarter in the pay phone, I took a deep breath and punched in the number Mateo had written, squinting at the poor handwriting.Is that a 2 or a 7?I made a guess, hoping I wasn’t about to waste a quarter.

“Hello?” A gruff voice answered.

“George?” I asked tentatively.

There was silence on the line before he answered cautiously. “Who is this?”

I was one of a dozen or more local teens who stood lookout for his drops. I wasn’t surprised he didn’t know my voice.

“It’s Slick, Mateo’s buddy.”

“Hang on.” I heard rustling in the background. “Ok, Slick, Mateo’s friend. Why the hell are you calling me at home?”

Holed up in his bunker, I imagined his paranoia was rising as more and more crackdowns were reported in the daily papers. I cleared my throat, gathering courage. “I’ve been fishing for you for a while now, but I can’t do it anymore.”

He didn’t say anything for what felt like a full minute, and my nerves kicked into high gear until he finally spoke. “So you want to quit? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“I’m going to get out of town for a while.” It was a lie I was prepared to follow through on if I had to. I turned, cupping the phone to shield my voice even though there was no one around to hear. “People are killing each other, and I don’t want to be next,” I said, trying to keep calm. “I almost got caught in a drive-by at a club in Miami last month. And things are getting worse by the minute.” I didn’t tell him about Ellie and wanting a clean break so I could start a life with her.

“That’s why you shouldn’t leave the rock, It only snows in Miami. Down here, all we do is fish. Nobody gets hurt. And for that, I pay you very well.”

I tried not to sound as anxious as I felt. “You do, and I appreciate it, but I need out.” I shook my head like he could actually see me. “Johnny B might never come back. It’s not worth the risk. I’m only nineteen.”

“Calm down kid, I still need you. Do what I say and you won’t end up floating without a paddle in the Everglades.”

FUCK! Did he just threaten me?The worst case scenario I didn’t dare to imagine, was a distinct possibility.

I scrambled to figure out what to say. Ellie had no idea what it meant to work for a man like George. He seemed like everyone’s favorite uncle, until you crossed him. “George, I’m loyal to the bone. My lips are sealed. But I can’t keep this up. I need out.”

---