Hoyt had been the first of us to see it. He’d gotten preferential treatment from Captain and crew alike. Yet he remained morose. In fact, the melancholy that had gripped him during that episode at Luckadoo’s had only deepened.
And there was something else now. He was stern both in manner and speech.
I wasn’t at all surprised when his face betrayed nothing upon surfacing. That same implacapable resolutness held firm. Sam’s prodding had been predictably fruitless.
I smiled as Sam and Chuck slipped gently beneath the current. As the last vestige of the comical goldfish colored pill that was our recent ferry disappeared I glanced at Schmidt.
He alternated between shaking his head and rubbing his temples.
“So what the hell do you suppose that was…?”
“I dunno…I was hoping he’d tell us…his ‘mystery’ schtick is beginning to annoy me.”
I shared that sentiment but then realized that it was equally likely that the captain chose theater in lieu of knowledge.
“I bet he doesn’t know either. I bet this is a pretty recent discovery.”
“Yea well he could at least be forthcoming enough to give us his guess.”
“Forthcoming isn’t his style.” Said a voice from behind.
I turned round. It was Lauren. She was sitting with her long bare legs tucked behind rummaging through some kit.
“Watcha lookin’ at.” Came a tone of mock challenge.
“You’re doin’ that on purpose.”
“Doin what…” The young matriarch said scrunching up a deeply tanned face that clashed with light blonde hair.
I approached and leaned on the opposite side of the white metal chest trying as hard as I could to twist my inflexible boozestiffened bones into the same sinuous pose that she was in.
I met her eyes and batted my own. “That.”
She smirked. “I dunno what you’re getting at…”
“Nobody sits like that.”
“Yeah well I do…” she said yawning as she stretched sensuously making sure that every curve was accentuated and her bra tested the limits of her LSU tank top.
“Stop flirting,” I said.
“Don’t compliment yourself.” She was on the ball.
“Alright dorks…” Schmidt joined us.
We were both annoyed that our little banter battle had ended.
A sentiment that I knew was shared cause Lauren now began teasing Schmidt.
“Hey, you can’t fault your friend for having good taste.” She said as she rose and walked to sit behind me with her arms draped over my shoulders.
She really was like a cat. It reminded me of when Chubs would try to make Sarah jealous by ignoring her ‘kitty kitties’ and sitting in my lap. Chubs knew who approved of his diet.
Likewise, I knew that she was now making eye contact with Schmidt. I could see that he was looking at her as she leaned in and gave me a quick friendly peck on the cheek.
Lucas made a mock retching sound. Though I knew that he was jealous. Our work rendered coed interactions few and far between. Female attention is supremely coveted by the sequestered man.
I think that aside from her inherent femininity she somehow picked up on our state. And seemed to find it supremely entertaining to exploit it.
“Alright kids…come on…focus….”
“On what?” Lauren asked really rubbing it in now by tracing her hands gently across my chest. Just like how Chubs would nuzzle up…though this was much nicer. It felt nice.
“On the fact that there’s an ancient LAX under the fuckin’ Pacific.”
“O that…” She said as she stood. I didn’t like that. It was like having your brother steal your cookie. I felt robbed when our bodies no longer made contact.
She twirled and raised her arms melodramatically in the air.
“The sun ain’t just for tanning.”
1.1 (Intro) The Sketch of Sam Monroe
1.2 The Cajun Prayer
Help a Hipster