Blue Castaway
By Rod Mertes
Copyright 2006
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events of locales is completely coincidental. They were all born in the mind of the author.
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CHAPTER ONE
THE RENDEZVOUS
Paul Porter’s sweaty, naked body pulled against the white bed linen as he sat slowly. He reached for a pack of cigarettes on a bedside table, put two between his lips and lit them. He passed one of them to Shannon, the red-headed woman to his left, smiled and said, “Whew!! You sure as hell didn’t learn that on the Internet!”
Shannon replied with a mischievous smile and inhaled deeply on her cigarette. The two sat quietly, each surveying the room décor and enjoying the afterglow of their encounter. The sounds of passing vehicles on the adjacent highway were barely filtered by the thin walls.
The faded, blue window curtains had been joined in the center with a safety pin and were missing several hooks along the curtain track. A narrow beam of sunlight shot through a gap just above the pin, proving to be the only bright spot on the shabby, white wall to Paul’s right.
There was a solitary painting glued to the wall above a small, four-drawer dresser. The scene depicted a small pond, littered with dead trees and numerous branches. The glass covering the scene was cracked in one corner and was coated with a thick, yellow film of nicotine.
The only other adornment was a dead air conditioner, mounted in the wall beneath the curtains. There was a rusty stain in the beige carpet below, indicating that it worked at some time.
Paul finished his cigarette, and casually crushed the remains in the ashtray. He gave Shannon a light kiss on the lips, turned and slid his legs over the side of the bed. He sighed and said reluctantly, “I have to get going.”
“What’s the rush, there’s still an hour before checkout,” said Shannon in a voice as soft as cotton. She put her cigarette out in the ashtray on her side of the bed and peeled the sweaty sheet back. She slid toward Paul, wrapped her arms around him and pressed her breasts into his back. She massaged his chest, while she slid her lips across his shoulders.
“I’ve gotta be somewhere in an hour and I still have a stop to make,” he answered as he wiped some sweat from his brow and headed for the shower.
Shannon looked to the bathroom, smiled and said, “I’d join you but you’d never make your appointment!”
Paul lathered his head and body with the tiny, complimentary bar of soap provided by the motel and rinsed as well as he could under the trickling warm water. He leaned against the mildewed, white tiles and held his head under the water. He tried to place the bar back into the soap dish, but was off the mark. When he turned to rinse his back, his left foot located the missing soap and he came crashing down. His right elbow smashed against the spout and ripped open a sizeable scab. He grimaced, clasped the wound with his left hand and rose slowly. As he watched the blood flow from his arm to the drain, his mind drifted to another time…another place.
He began thinking of his fishing trip to Florida and blood, lots and lots of blood, being washed from a boat deck.
He and his two best friends, Kevin Jennings and LJ Lancaster, were at Paul’s apartment drinking beer and watching a basketball game on Paul’s wide screen television. After the game, they channel surfed and settled on a movie about some guys hunting sharks in the ocean waters off the coast of Florida. None of their previous fishing expeditions had taken them beyond lakes or ponds. When they saw the ocean fishermen baiting a hook with a fish that was larger than any they had ever landed, they decided it was time to turn in their oars and go after a real fish.
They coordinated their vacations, headed to Florida and chartered a private fishing boat to go after sharks. They loaded more beer aboard the boat than fishing gear and headed out for open water. They threw chum out in several different areas recommended by the boat’s captain and drank beer as they waited for the gray monsters to appear. Sun blistering hours passed with no success. Then they stopped near Montclair Reef and lethargically repeated the chum process. Their efforts were finally rewarded and a huge shark locked onto one of the hooks. Paul and Kevin worked in tandem to maneuver the creature close to the boat. Then Kevin broke away and left Paul to struggle with the heavy, saltwater fishing rod. The steel hook held firmly in the shark’s mouth and brought it close enough to the boat for Kevin to lash at the thrashing beast with a rusty harpoon. LJ rushed forward, produced a .357 magnum handgun and fired wildly into the shark’s mid-section until he was out of ammunition.
The water surrounding the shark quickly shifted from a slightly choppy blue to a foamy red. Once aboard the boat, the mutilated shark whipped its tail from side to side and made a last, feeble attempt to bite something…anything. Kevin jabbed at it savagely with his harpoon, while Paul grabbed a steel club and battered the shark’s head. The shark’s gills went still and its lifeless body lay motionless on the deck. Paul didn’t like the way one of the eyes was looking at him, so he used his club to beat the eye and surrounding area until it was totally indistinguishable. The three friends smiled, stood side by side, each with one foot on the shark’s body and posed proudly as the captain took several pictures.
Kevin and LJ went to the cooler for a beer, while Paul used the steel club to bang one of the shark’s teeth out as a souvenir. His first attempts resulted in mere fragments, so he used his hunting knife to dig one out. The captain had a beer and a few laughs with the triumphant warriors before they pushed the shark back into the sea. Afterwards, he washed the bloody deck and plotted the return course. Paul’s blood streamed down the drain much the same way the shark’s blood flowed over the side of the boat. The bathtub blood was significantly different in only one important way…it was Paul’s blood.
He was jerked back to reality when the warm water dwindled away and was replaced with a shocking cold spray. He chuckled as he got out of the shower and muttered to himself about that being the first time he was ever in a hotel or motel that ran out of hot water. He dried off, wrapped several layers of toilet paper around his elbow and dressed quickly. Shannon stared amorously as he looked around the room to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything.
She stood and moved to the end of the bed, mere inches from Paul. Her exquisite form was tantalizing and inviting. It took every ounce of self-control to keep his clothes on and his hands at a safe distance.
She began to caress his face lightly with her soft, slender fingers and looked longingly into his eyes. The single ray of sunlight that had slipped through the window curtains made her eyes sparkle like diamonds. “You’re truly a handsome man, Mr. Porter. You have a powerful jaw and very kissable lips.”
Shannon glided forward and pressed her lips tenderly against his. She smiled seduc-tively, and her eyes narrowed. Every part of Paul’s body was aroused and ready for renewed action. He thought about throwing her back on the bed and sexually ravishing her body once more. He was tempted alright…so tempted. He returned the smile and realized that he had to go at that moment, or he’d never be able to leave.
He ran his hands midway down her arms and gently eased her away from him. Then he walked rapi
dly to the nightstand and snatched up his wristwatch. “I really have to go. When will you be back to Tupelo?” he asked as he fastened the leather watchband.
Shannon lit a cigarette, exhaled forcefully and replied, “I’ll be covering my St. Louis territory for at least the next three weeks. It’ll be close to a month before I hit Mississippi again. When I return, I’ll only be here for two or three days and then I’ll be flying to Louisiana for a week.”
Paul looked at her thoughtfully, headed for the door and said, “Actually, that’ll work well for me. I have several commitments coming up that will keep me busy for about the same amount of time.” He put his hand on the doorknob and continued, “Gotta go. Stay sexy!”
Shannon followed him to the door, kissed him affectionately and said, “I’ll call you when I get back into town.”
Paul smiled as he opened the door and walked outside. The stifling heat and humidity of the July morning were almost suffocating, like a mythical creature pouncing on its prey and sucking the breath from its lungs. By the time he made it to the air conditioning of his black pickup truck, he was already dripping in sweat.
Shannon watched through the curtains until he started the engine and drove away. She finished her cigarette, sat on the edge of the bed and dialed a long distance telephone number. The phone rang several times before a panting male voice responded with a dry, “Hello.”
“Hi, Sweetheart. Are you okay? It sounds like you need oxygen!”
“Hey, baby. It’s great to hear your voice. I was outside mowing and came in to get a drink of ice tea. I had no sooner gone back out and closed the door when I heard the phone ring.” Todd, her husband, paused to catch his breath and then continued, “So, how did the final meeting go yesterday?”
“Same old boring shit. That’s why I didn’t bother calling,” she replied flatly. “My flight should be landing there at four o’clock this afternoon. Would you like me to catch a cab?”
Todd glanced at the flight number written on a slip of paper taped to a kitchen cabinet and said, “No need, sweetie. I’ll be able to pick you up.”
“Okay, then. I’ll see you there. Love you.”
“Love you, too,” he replied as they hung up. He poured another glass of cold tea, gulped it and went back outside to finish mowing. He looked across his lawn and saw his neighbor watering rows of assorted flowers she had planted underneath her bedroom windows. She saw Todd looking her way and turned the water off. She dropped the hose and walked over to greet Todd.
“Hey, Yolanda. Your flowers are looking great.” He looked back at his sparsely populated flower bed and smiled. “You certainly have the magic touch. We need you to come over here and work your charms.”
“Thanks, Todd. Your flowers would be doing much better if you and Shannon had more time to devote to them. They don’t need any charms, just a little fertilizer and some daily watering.”
Yolanda adjusted her sun hat and asked, “When is Shannon due back?”
“She’ll be home in a couple of hours. I’m going to finish the lawn, run a few errands and then swing by the airport to pick her up.”
“This was one of her quickest trips in months. She wasn’t gone nearly as long as she usually is,” said Yolanda.
“You’re right. It was a very short junket this go-around.”
“It’s fortunate you guys don’t have any children. It would be so much more difficult and harder on everyone,” offered Yolanda.
Todd nodded, bent over and removed the air filter on his lawn mower.
“When does Shannon have to leave again? It would be nice if she could stay home and get some rest. Those business trips must take a lot out of her.”
“You’re right about the trips. They do take a lot out of her. She never seems to be able to get a good night’s sleep in hotel beds and always comes home exhausted. Thankfully, she won’t have to leave for some time. All of her appointments for the next three weeks or so are going to be within the St. Louis area. She should be home every night.”
Todd examined the air filter and tapped it on his concrete driveway. He looked at the residue and then put the filter back in the mower.
“Tell Shannon to stop by after she gets settled.”
“I’ll do that, Yolanda,” he said as he donned his work gloves.
Yolanda dragged the hose over to a seedling and began spraying a fine mist around the base of the trunk. Todd waved goodbye, yanked on the starter cord and fired up his mower.
Back at the hotel, Shannon settled the bill and drove her rental car to a nearby diner. She ordered a salad and diet drink from a server that was in such a good mood, that it was almost scary. She was seated in a booth facing the door and waiting for her order to arrive, when a strikingly handsome man of medium build entered. His brown hair was cut in a military style and his short-sleeved shirt exposed well-developed biceps and forearms. His jeans were a snug fit and clearly defined every inch from the waist down. Shannon stared at the man’s statuesque physique and initially thought that it was Paul. If that’s not Paul, it sure as hell could be his twin, she thought as she started feeling aroused.
The man stood by the entrance and faced the parking lot. He was apparently waiting for someone else to arrive. He turned his head in Shannon’s direction and smiled at her. When she saw his face, she decided that the man’s features weren’t close enough to be Paul’s twin. He could, however, easily pass as Paul’s brother.
Shannon returned the smile and fidgeted slightly. She wanted a reflective surface to check her appearance, but couldn’t find any close by. When she glanced back at the stranger, he had turned his attention to another man walking across the parking lot.
“What a hunk! I wonder if you’re like Paul in every respect,” she said in a whisper as she drooled over the man at the door. The thought of a romantic interlude with the stranger excited and intrigued her. Shannon loved men. She wasn’t sure why she had a hard time limiting herself to just one. Maybe it was the excitement of new sex partners. Maybe it was the attention and gifts. It may have been all those things combined and more. She wasn’t really sure and spent little time thinking or worrying about it.
She looked around the diner and tried to think of a good introduction line. Striking up a conversation with Paul on their first encounter was easy. She met him in a Tupelo sports bar that was televising a professional baseball game on a wide-screen set. She had a working knowledge of the sport and chided in with others as they critiqued a bad call by an umpire.
Paul lived in Walls, Mississippi and had driven to Tupelo to help his brother repair the wooden fence running along his property line. Several sections had succumbed to nature’s persuasive forces and collapsed. Afterward, both men were dehydrated and physically drained from their exposure to a grueling ninety-six degree day. They went to the sports bar to relax and recover.
Shannon was a slender, sexy woman with an attractive face and had little problem holding any man’s interest. Conversation of any substance was rarely an essential ingredient. Such was the case with Paul.
The waiting man left the diner and met the approaching man just in front of a metal newspaper rack. They hugged briefly and kissed each other cordially on the lips. Shannon witnessed the affectionate encounter and immediately scrapped any further efforts to develop conversation topics.
She raised her eyebrows and looked at the approaching waitress. “Hmmm…he’s not exactly like Paul. I can’t speak for his brother though,” she said softly.
“Excuse me?” said the waitress.
Shannon smiled and said, “It’s nothing. I was just muttering to myself.”
CHAPTER TWO
MADAME NAVOISE