orangetoughguy | log post II

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?

Well.

[Larry licks his lips and then stops to gauge their movement, how fast the boat is going and not stalling.]

You'd be trying harder to convince me. Or I could say I'd throw you in the water and if you flipped the fuck out, then I'd know you were telling the truth.

[That catches him off guard enough to nearly drop his cigarette.]

You don't gotta do that.

[Not because he's afraid of the sharks but because of the gators. Go figure.]

[There we go then. Larry beams, feeling like he got some kind of an answer out of it. So there's something in the water. Maybe.]

Easy, cowboy.

[He puts down is oar and rubs the back of his neck.]

We got oars and guns.

[Heaven help the critter that'd try to take a bite out of Freddy.]

I don't wanna have to shoot anything.

[Freddy shakes his head--bump. The boat gently rocks to the left, only once. Right away he stares at Larry.]

Real funny.

I didn't do that.

[Though he is more than willing to point the finger in Freddy's direction. What the fuck.]

[Ooookay. He's still staring at Larry but with more concern than accusation.]

Well I didn't fuckin' do it--

[BUMP. The kid's cigarette falls into the water as he pulls the oar out, ready to use it as a weapon.]

What the hell!

Sit still.

[Gun drawn, the old man will lean a bit to investigate. Not enough to tip the boat one way or the other.]

Don't see anything. So it can't be big. [Optimism talk, he'll do more of that, yes indeed. That is until another bump.]

But the oar in the water, we'll row away.

[Which shouldn't be a problem....hopefully.]

Keep calm.

[When Larry leans over the water stays perfectly placid. Misleading. Freddy does the same on his side but not a single ripple stirs...which only raises his own suspicion.]

Okay.

[He listens as Mr. Orange does to Mr. White, oar going back in slowly, carefully. Freddy gives the thing a solid but even paced row--SNAP. The kid almost loses his grip on the thing.]

Fuck! It's got the oar!

[SNAP SNAP SNAP SNAP SNAP.]

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