He
decided that he’d rather the temporary annoyance of the branch than a sleepless night
of scratching bug bites. He picked up his pace, hacking at the mangroves on the edge
of Matecumbe Key to clear the way for the new dock and bridge ramps.
Gavin hated the relentless, coiling branches of the mangroves more than just about
anything, but he had assumed the duty of chopping them down when one of the men in
his unit had startedvomiting and couldn’t stop. Gavin had him taken to the doctor immediately in case
of contagion. Outbreaks of meningitis and parasitic infections weren’t uncommon in
the filthy camps. He knew, however, that the vet was probably dehydrated from drinking
too much beer and working too long in the hot sun. The men here lived hard and had
long suffered from postwar depression and unemployment. He wouldn’t begrudge them
a drink or two to make the pain go away, but he didn’t appreciate when it interfered
with their productivity.
A sudden shaking sound made him freeze with his machete aloft. He looked down around
his feet and didn’t see the dreaded source of the noise, but knew the rattlesnake
was nearby.
Bonefish was, of course, relentless in his beating now that Gavin needed stillness,
so he reached around and grabbed the branch with his free hand.
“Stop,” he hissed. “Rattler!”
Bonefish sucked in his breath and stopped beating.
Gavin slid his eyes over the ground beneath the mangrove and saw the snake, not three
feet away, coiled and shaking its tail. He felt a new layer of sweat edge out what
had already been there, and his shirt was now drenched. He didn’t want to make any
sudden movements and have the snake lunge at him, but he didn’t think he could get
a clean shot through the mangroves with the machete.
Gavin slowly lowered the machete to a better position to strike and took a step back.
The snake flinched, Bonefish yelped and ran, and the creature struck. Gavin jumped
back, narrowly missing the bite, and brought the machete down hard. In one clean stroke,
he severed the rattler’s head. Some of the men nearby clapped and whistled, and Gavin
felt a surge of pride until their commander, Colonel Ed Sheeran, walked over.
“Get your asses back to work and stop playing with animals,” said Sheeran.
Gavin wasn’t pleased to be reprimanded like a common vet, but had no energy for confrontation
and didn’t want to set a bad example for those under him. He nodded, kicked the dead
snake out of the way, and continued cutting the mangroves.
The great crane groaned as it lowered the keystone from the quarry at nearby Plantation
Key into the bridge piers.
Gavin was relieved to be on crane duty. He preferred operating the heavy machinery
to the manual labor involved in bridge building, but he also knew that doing the hard
labor made his men respect him. After the rattlesnake encounter, however, he felt
he’d earned the high seat for the day.
He kept an eye on Fred, a fellow World War I vet, until he signaled with his shaking
hands. Fred’s tremors had started sometime during the war and continued to plague
him almost two decades later. As the tremors worsened it was getting harder to find
work suitable for Fred, but Gavin was determined to keep him busy and on the job.
While he waited for Fred and the men below to help position the stone, he stared out
at the great blue-green expanse around him. A welcome breeze slipped through the crane’s
cabin, and Gavin reveled in a break from the mosquitoes. He imagined steering a boat
through the waves, anchoring in the dark blue, and fishing away a lazy afternoon with
a beautiful girl at his side.
He thought of the girl from the boxing match. Her deep, dark eyes. Her confidence.
The way she’d smiled at him after the fight.
“Murray!” yelled one of the guys below. “Stop dreaming and finish dropping this rock
so we can get some grub.”
“Sorry, Al. I was
decided that he’d rather the temporary annoyance of the branch than a sleepless night
of scratching bug bites. He picked up his pace, hacking at the mangroves on the edge
of Matecumbe Key to clear the way for the new dock and bridge ramps.
Gavin hated the relentless, coiling branches of the mangroves more than just about
anything, but he had assumed the duty of chopping them down when one of the men in
his unit had startedvomiting and couldn’t stop. Gavin had him taken to the doctor immediately in case
of contagion. Outbreaks of meningitis and parasitic infections weren’t uncommon in
the filthy camps. He knew, however, that the vet was probably dehydrated from drinking
too much beer and working too long in the hot sun. The men here lived hard and had
long suffered from postwar depression and unemployment. He wouldn’t begrudge them
a drink or two to make the pain go away, but he didn’t appreciate when it interfered
with their productivity.
A sudden shaking sound made him freeze with his machete aloft. He looked down around
his feet and didn’t see the dreaded source of the noise, but knew the rattlesnake
was nearby.
Bonefish was, of course, relentless in his beating now that Gavin needed stillness,
so he reached around and grabbed the branch with his free hand.
“Stop,” he hissed. “Rattler!”
Bonefish sucked in his breath and stopped beating.
Gavin slid his eyes over the ground beneath the mangrove and saw the snake, not three
feet away, coiled and shaking its tail. He felt a new layer of sweat edge out what
had already been there, and his shirt was now drenched. He didn’t want to make any
sudden movements and have the snake lunge at him, but he didn’t think he could get
a clean shot through the mangroves with the machete.
Gavin slowly lowered the machete to a better position to strike and took a step back.
The snake flinched, Bonefish yelped and ran, and the creature struck. Gavin jumped
back, narrowly missing the bite, and brought the machete down hard. In one clean stroke,
he severed the rattler’s head. Some of the men nearby clapped and whistled, and Gavin
felt a surge of pride until their commander, Colonel Ed Sheeran, walked over.
“Get your asses back to work and stop playing with animals,” said Sheeran.
Gavin wasn’t pleased to be reprimanded like a common vet, but had no energy for confrontation
and didn’t want to set a bad example for those under him. He nodded, kicked the dead
snake out of the way, and continued cutting the mangroves.
The great crane groaned as it lowered the keystone from the quarry at nearby Plantation
Key into the bridge piers.
Gavin was relieved to be on crane duty. He preferred operating the heavy machinery
to the manual labor involved in bridge building, but he also knew that doing the hard
labor made his men respect him. After the rattlesnake encounter, however, he felt
he’d earned the high seat for the day.
He kept an eye on Fred, a fellow World War I vet, until he signaled with his shaking
hands. Fred’s tremors had started sometime during the war and continued to plague
him almost two decades later. As the tremors worsened it was getting harder to find
work suitable for Fred, but Gavin was determined to keep him busy and on the job.
While he waited for Fred and the men below to help position the stone, he stared out
at the great blue-green expanse around him. A welcome breeze slipped through the crane’s
cabin, and Gavin reveled in a break from the mosquitoes. He imagined steering a boat
through the waves, anchoring in the dark blue, and fishing away a lazy afternoon with
a beautiful girl at his side.
He thought of the girl from the boxing match. Her deep, dark eyes. Her confidence.
The way she’d smiled at him after the fight.
“Murray!” yelled one of the guys below. “Stop dreaming and finish dropping this rock
so we can get some grub.”
“Sorry, Al. I was
Similar Books
