Thin Slice of Life

Chapter 02

The highway ahead shimmered in the morning heat and Charlie Sweetwater felt sweat pooling under his arms. Hot, humid air rushed through the open window, but the light had the slightest metallic edge that foretold the approach of autumn. His truck was a temperamental piece of crap and the A/C decided to quit working as soon as he hit the Chihuahuan Desert. Charlie and his brother used to call it the “Whore of Detroit” because they gave it all their money and it never loved them back. Years later, his brother had traded his interest in the truck for $75 and a pair of Tony Lama boots that needed new soles. But at least the radio still functioned. Right now a static-laden Tejano polka scratched its way through the speakers. Charlie sang along for a verse and a chorus and then began talking back to the radio in Spanish to keep himself awake. 1500 miles of broken Mexican highway and arid South Texas brush country had taken its toll. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and pushed the accelerator. Charlie hadn’t seen his hometown since his dad’s funeral almost five years ago. That time, his brother Johnny had tracked him down in Cuernavaca and delivered the unhappy news over the telephone. This time, however, he’d sounded a hell of a lot more upbeat. CHAPTER 02 16 02| There was only one phone at the Playa Escondida Resort, the remote tourist operation that Charlie ran on the Pacific coast, but he happened to hear it ringing as he passed by the office cabana on his way to the reef for some spear fishing. “Brother man!” Johnny shouted over the static. “I finally got through; I can’t believe it.” “Hey, hermano. How the heck are you?” “Terrific. Listen, I’ve got a proposition for you. How ‘bout you get your ass out of Old Mexico and drive up here and see me in Fulton for a few days. I want you to meet somebody.” Johnny always liked to get straight to the point. “You mean, like a girl?” asked Charlie, wondering if this time he’d be returning home for a wedding instead of a funeral. “I’d rather keep it a surprise. Give you something to ponder on the way up.” There was a pause on the line as Charlie thought it over. “Come on, bro,’” said Johnny, “I know you don’t have jack-shit going on down there in lotus land. Besides, you haven’t been back home in…I don’t know how long.” Johnny was right. He had nothing pressing on his agenda, unless reef diving counted as an obligation, and he had no good excuse for staying away from his hometown for as long as he had. His lengthy absence hadn’t been intentional; it had just become habit. “Okay, Johnny. Why the hell not?” Even through the static Charlie could hear his brother whooping on the other end of the line. “That’s what I wanted to hear, ‘mano! It’ll be worth the effort. I promise.” “But why can’t you tell me about this mystery chick? You’re not getting married are you?” “Have patience, little brother,” he said. “Listen, I know it’s a long drive so I’ll look for you ‘round the end of the week. I’m taking the boat out to the Gulf this afternoon—man, the shrimping has been outstanding lately—so if I’m not back in the harbor when you arrive, I’ll be there soon after. End of the week. Estamos bien?” Charlie laughed. “Yeah, we’re good.” “Great. I can’t wait to see ya.” “Oye, Johnny. You want me to bring you anything from Mexi…” but before he could finish his brother had hung up. 17 |02 — When Charlie finally reached the Fulton city limits he felt like a month of Judgment Days. But he recovered a little as he turned onto the familiar two-lane road that followed the edge of Aransas Bay. He was greeted by huddled stands of live oaks that bent in an arthritic pose away from the relentless Gulf winds, and by the pungent odor of decaying seaweed and dead fish that flavored the fresh sea air. Rickety wooden fishing piers, many still unrepaired since the last hurricane, jutted out from bait shacks that perched over the water (FRESH...