orangetoughguy | log post II

........ [.........]

No shit? You're bullshittin' me.

[The kid starts laughing. A lot. Look it's hard not to at the idea of Larry doing business in Florida with some guy who clearly has experienced rushing gators.]

That's fuckin' somethin' I gotta tell ya.

No shit. [Larry moves his cigarette to the other side of his mouth. Nice to see that someone thinks that this shit is funny. Bama didn't like no gators.]

I didn't see it myself, but the way he was talking about it. [Nods, smiling like an idiot because the kid's loving it so damn much.] The way he was talking it was bigger than that one. [He lifts his cigarette to point at an empty spot behind Freddy's head.]

[He's still laughing as if you couldn't tell, Dimick.]

Oh man that's worse than a fuckin' dog--what?

[Wait what?? Green eyes go wide, so wide you can almost call them doe-eyed. Freddy turns around to look.]

[Oh. He could. Larry is chuckling to himself now for another reason. And for a split second he almost feels guilty. Almost. The moment Freddy's head is turned he gives him a soft backhand to the back of his head.]

[Seeing nothing there he's about to turn back around and scowl at Larry when he feels the thump to the back of his head. Fff.]

Hah hah real funny.

Musta moved away too fast or something.

[Yeah, okay. Okay. He was foolin'. The only negative aspect about this little fishing trip is that they're for the most part out in the open. Because he'd like nothing more than to kiss and make up if Freddy's gonna take it so hard.]

[He points at Larry. The kid's not taking it hard, just taking it like a kid.]

You're really tryin' to rock the boat.

No I'm not.

[Now is a good time to reel in his line a little.]

I just thought I saw a gator. Figured it'd be worth telling you. [Shrug.] So where'd you hear this alligators don't stop for bullets shit?

[Is it from a comic book?]

Uh huh. [Freddy reclines again, pack of smokes out now so he can light one up.]

We had a guy visiting from New York once. [He doesn't need to say NYPD does he?] Talkin' about the sewers there, I'm pretty sure he was full of shit but it was a good story.

[Here, he'll let Freddy use his lighter then it's a peace pipe.]

I dunno how anything could survive down there. Alligators or turtles, even bums it's filthy in the subway.

The same way people survive in the river I guess.

[Which isn't much of an answer. He'll take that peace pipe thanks. Puff.]

This kinda water doesn't look too dirty.

[There is still that prospect of swimming in his head.]

I say we try peddling out someplace else. The fish aren't here.

[See how he's so eager to pick up his paddles? Larry just reels his line in and then reclines in the boat.]

[Freddy follows Larry's cue and reels his own line in before moving to sit next to him...so they don't paddle the boat in a circle. See the kid knows a little thing or two about semi-rural activities. Fresno was close enough to the mountains for it...or something.]

Where to?

[He asks around his cig while taking up an oar.]

I dunno. Let's try the next street.

[Arm to arm? Larry can watch Freddy's move. And they can be close. That's nice. Okay, he'll take up the other oar.

Dion and the Belmonts are wondering why over the radio.]

Maybe the gators kept em away.

[He could resist.]

If we're gonna talk about gators you know this place is a fuckin' island. What about sharks?

[Arm to arm. If Larry's got his blazer off and his sleeves rolled well, wouldn't that be a nice warming sight?]

All this can't be salt water.

[At least it don't smell like saltwater.]

You tell me if you see any fins.

[His sleeves are rolled up actually. Though for some reason he's keeping his white button up on. We all know he wears a shirt under that.

Row, row they go.]

Your buddy Billy never told you about bullsharks? They go up rivers.

[Eventually he's gonna have to take his own jacket off. Rowing's no walk in the park.]

Bullsharks?

[Dimick doesn't watch much PBS or the Discovery channel.]

Bullshit. They gotta stay in salt water or they die don't they? That's how fish work.

[Brown eyes watch one sleeve come off then the other. That's more like it.]

Hell if I know, I heard they go up the Mississippi as far as Illinois.

[He nods twice and yeah he's rolling his own sleeves up too, the lightweight flannel ones over his t-shirt. That's how Newendykes keep warm.]

...I watched some TV thing about the truth behind Jaws. That motherfucker, the great white? He's based on the little river guys.

Now that ain't right.

[Yeah. And there's some forearm too. For February it isn't so cold anymore. Curses for you. The snow'll be back. At least it'll be good for hockey.]

Little? Fuck. Stop jerking my chain.

[Larry's not no athletic swimmer. He can get by and tread water, all that shit but fuck. You need a bigger boat for that bullshit, harpoons, the whole nine yards. A shake of his head to rid the onslaught of possible shark preparations. Lawrence "Two Guns" Dimick afraid of terror on the ocean? No...]

On TV those things don't look even half the size of Jaws but that's how fuckin' big their reputation is.

[And Two Guns here ought to know sometimes reputation means everything.]

You know the Amity Lake part, on the tour they do at Universal? That guy could eat the shit out of a couple bullsharks, but outside of Hollywood you're gonna lose your leg to one of those guys before you ever see a great white. Jaws'll grab a seal and call it a day.

[Educational TV, this is what it does.]

Yeah, well. [Recover, recover, recover.] If they're so damn big how come not everybody knows about em?

[Yeah. He went there. Larry spits the rest of his cigarette into the river they drift on.]

I don't see no seals. No gators either so then there ain't no reason to come out this far.

Don't ask me I ain't a shark expert.

[Another shrug. Hah tit for tat there. Freddy gives Larry a sharp sly grin.]

What? Didn't catch all of the programming for that show?

[Jerk. Rowing this boat and maneuvering as they near the signal.]

You're makin' it up. [He hopes.]

[Hey Freddy's as good at this game as you are, Lawrence Dimick. Rowing on down the water lane green eyes just look up as innocently and kiddish as he can be.]

What if I'm not?

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject