The Gulf and the Gift by Rick Beck    The Gulf and the Gift
Part Six of The Gulf Series
by Rick Beck
Chapter Twenty-Three
"Business As Usual"

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The Cove at Sunset
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Young Adult
Drama

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On Tuesday, after another long cool friendly shower, they agreed a stop at Mama's kitchen was in order. Nourishment to keep up their strength was important to both of them. They hadn't been able to stop making love until sometime the night before, when they both fell asleep before they could go another round. They knew tonight would roll around soon. They wanted to be ready. They didn't think there would be much sleeping once it came. If they got enough nourishment, there might not be any sleep at all.

Ivan was ready to go to work after eggs and bacon, hot cakes and sausage, and enough coffee to float the Sea Lab right there in Mama's kitchen, but no matter how much coffee they drank, Mama wouldn't stand for that.

Going to work seemed like the thing to do.

"Time for me to go relieve Tag. He has to be expecting me to show up one day soon. We've done all the damage we can do here. You'll know where to find me if you need me, babe."

"I think I'll tag along with you. I haven't said hello to Taggart this week. I've stopped by on most days to offer moral support. He's got to be wondering why he hasn't seen either one of us since Sunday when I left for Tampa."

"Tag knows perfectly well why he hasn't seen either of us. He's quite a perceptive guy and smarter than he lets on," Ivan said.

"I suppose. I need to get my reports done before Harry gets home, but they'll wait for another hour. I'll go with you to the shop."

Clay and Ivan were ready to face a new day, whatever day it was. They were able to retire to neutral corners for the sake of getting some work done that didn't involve their nether regions.

Besides, they drank the last of Mama's coffee.

"To the Cove Dive, Surf & Bait Shop, James. I'm not doing any good around here," Ivan announced. "Unless you think we need another shower."

"My skin is getting wrinkled, I've spent so much time in the Gulf and in the shower," Clay said.

"To the Dive Shop it is. Don't spare the horses, James. Let's go before I change my mind."

"Who the hell is James?" Clay asked.

"My imaginary chauffeur. You don't have an imaginary chauffeur?"

"I am my imaginary chauffeur, Buster. Give me a kiss before Mama comes back. I can't wait until we get to the car. I'll go in with you to back up whatever lie you tell Taggart."

Clay and Ivan were standing when Mama came back from dumping the dish water on her garden. She came back with two scrumptious looking tomatoes in the dish pan she'd emptied.

"Thank you, Mama. It was all delicious. We'll be home for dinner," Clay said, kissing his mother's cheek.

"Thank you, Mama. You're a gifted artist when it comes to food."

Mama blushed.

"My seafood chowder for supper. Corn bread and corn on the cob," Mama said as the boys went toward the front door.

Clay parked the Buick behind the shop and leaned to kiss Ivan, who leaned to kiss Clay. They needed to stop holding hands to get out of the car, and they did, but they held hands to walk to the front door.

It wasn't quite noon when the bell over the door tinkled, and Clay and Ivan came in as Tag looked up .

Tag was leaning on the counter reading the Rolling Stone.

"What are you reading?" Ivan asked.

Tag looked up with a big smile when he saw Ivan standing there.

"I heard rumors you were back in town. What am I reading? The usual. Rolling Stone. I must keep up on the propaganda."

"Not even a where the hell have you been for three days? You've been home for two days and you're just now bothering to come see if the Dive Shop is still open?"

"If I asked you that, boss, you might tell me, and my virginal ears aren't ready for that kind of shock yet. Just say you were busy. I'll take your word for it."

"I came along to back up whatever story he told you. I feel like a fifth wheel, since he doesn't have to make anything up," Clay said. "Since I'm here, I will make a fresh pot of coffee for you, Taggart."

"Thank you. The coffee is old, and I'll listen if he wants to make something up. I'll even smile and nod like I believe him. I couldn't be sure he was home until I see him in the flesh. I don't mind telling you, as morose as Clayton has been for the past few weeks, I wasn't absolutely sure you'd be coming back, Boss."

"Spending a lot of time with my lover, were you, Tag?"

"I've known Clay forever. He's like a brother to me," Tag said. "You ever kiss your brother, Ivan?"

"You'd be surprised what I've done with my brother, but that was then, this is now, as in recent behavior, Tag."

"If you'd like to make a pot of coffee, this one has been sitting there since I ran the trash this morning. I can't understand that either. I can remember needing to make two and three more pots each day."

"By the way, you're off trash detail, soldier. In fact, you're off duty period. Take all the time off you need. I owe you big time. I'm surprised you and the shop are still here. I wondered how you'd keep it going all alone."

"Not alone. Uncle Jim and Amos have been taking out the Gulf tour and the deep sea fishing boats. Luckily, they both can adjust their schedules to get it done. I stayed here to take care of campers. I kind of figured you guys might need some private time to adapt to Ivan being home. I didn't expect you to show up today. Takes a while to say hello to someone you love and who has been gone so long."

"I'd blush, Taggart, if I didn't know you so well," Clay said.

By the time Ivan went to sit behind the gigantic mahogany desk, Tag came around the counter and met him with a hug.

"I wasn't sure you were still alive until Sunday," Tag said. "Welcome home, Boss. I'd turn over the keys to you, but you have a set already."

"As you can see, I am alive, and be careful with all the touchy feely stuff. I have a lover wandering around here somewhere. He's extremely jealous, because I'm such a remarkable specimen of the human male organism."

"The truth is you've been gone too long, and I've had to work every day that you were gone. What do you have to say for yourself, and where the hell have you been all this time?"

"A discussion we'll have plenty of time to have, once I feel like I'm back in the saddle again, but thank you, Tag. I had no real doubt the shop would be open and functioning just like when I'm here."

"You're welcome," Tag said. "I can run it by myself, if I must."

"Go home. Stay home for as long as you like. You'll get your pay, such that it is," Ivan said, opening the top drawer of his desk and closing it quickly. "My word, you taken up bank robbing?"

Ivan opened the drawer ever so slowly to look at the evidence.

"I was supposed to take that to the bank yesterday," Clay said. "I think you kept me busy all day yesterday, not to mention all night."

"As if you had nothing to do with it, babe, and it wasn't all night. We fell asleep, unless I'm dreaming this."

"I feel like an order of fried clams," Tag said. "Now that relief has finally arrived."

"You don't look a thing like an order of friend clams, Taggart."

"Sounds like you've been in the Sahara Desert serving in the Foreign Legion, and not at a plush beach resort on the Gulf of Mexico, where food and drink are abundant," Ivan said. "But, since it's you, I'll spring for an order of clams and fries."

"Just to clear the air, that desk full of money is minus the orders of fried clams I had quite often," Taggart said.

"You didn't take your pay out of the collection?" Ivan asked.

"No, if I'd taken my pay, there wouldn't be any money. I did need to be able to make change for the customers."

"I went for the clams and fries some days, while you were gone," Clay said. "I didn't dip into the drawer, however."

"You're spoiling the help, love. One mustn't pamper the help. They'll come to expect it. Do we have any orange soda in the cooler?"

"We do. The soda man came yesterday. You'd have been able to say hello if you bothered to come to work."

"Ah yes, Monday the soda man comes. Today is the snack cake man, and tomorrow the dry goods man will be here. I'll be running the trash from now on," Ivan said.

"I'll help," Clay said. "If you're getting up, I am too. I can't imagine being in that big bed alone any longer."

"You don't want to sleep in, babe? I can cover it alone. I doubt Tag found anyone willing to get up at O dark thirty."

"I want to do whatever it is you do, stud. Besides, we have a kid floating around out there somewhere, and he'll be home soon. I think he loves doing the trash for some reason. Then, we can do a quickie in the morning before you go pick Dylan up, and I'll sleep in."

"When the hell have we done anything quick?" Ivan asked.

"That time when we were getting going on the deck of the Vilnius II. Your father got up because he heard noises coming from the deck. We moved pretty fast that morning."

"I do not want to hear any more. You two stop right there, and about those clams you were ready to go get?"

"Call JK's. Tell him it's me and I'll be right over for three orders of fried clams, fries, and throw in some hush puppies for good measure."

"We just ate Mama out of house and home. You can't be hungry, Ivan?"

"It's JK's fried clams, James. Who can turn down his clams?"

"Who's James," Tag asked mystified.

"You don't want to know, Taggart. I think he fell on his head while he was gone. Just humor him for the time being. If he doesn't get over it, we'll bring in professional help," Clay said.

Tag laughed before picking up the phone and dialing JK's.

"I hear them frying now, Tag. Tell him I'm on the way. Ask how much. May as well use up some of this cash," Ivan said, opening the drawer. "But after you eat, I want you to go home and stay there until you feel like coming to work. Then, we're going to discuss a new arrangement I thought up while I was gone, partner."

"New arrangement? I'm not your partner. Popov is your partner."

"When I paid Popov off last year, he turned back 25% of the Cove Dive, Surf, & Bait Shop, because he didn't do anything but lend me money, and 25% was plenty after I paid him off. I'm giving you the 25% he turned back. You are my partner, Partner."

"I don't know what to say," Tag said. "You don't have to do that. All I did was my job, same as when you're here, Boss."

"But I wasn't here, and I can see by my top drawer, you're as honest as the day is long. I couldn't have a better partner, Tag. When I hired you, I hired you because you were Twila's kid, and I know how good a woman your mama is. Her son is just as good in my book. The shop is still here, because you kept it operating for me. I'm not giving you a gift, you've earned a percentage of the profits. Thank you, Tag."

"You're welcome," Tag said, not knowing what to say, and not expecting to be given part of the business he knew how to run because he'd been there since the doors first opened.

Ivan went to get the fried clams, and Clay went with him. He bought three orders, figuring Tag would eat two, and he and Clay could nibbled on what Tag didn't eat. There were fries and hush puppies that came with all those clams, and for the next hour they munched and drank the shop's soda supply.

"Well, I'm going home, Boss. You hold down the fort."

"Take some time off. I've got the shop covered, Tag."

It was like he'd never been away. Things were casual in the cove, and whenever a campsite came open, it was immediately filled by someone on the waiting list. The Cove Campgrounds was always full, even in the heat of July, which became August a few days later.

Ivan was surprised by the campers he recognized as soon as they came in to register. The repeat business was astounding. While the campgrounds stayed full, there was a routine established. It worked for Clay, who did catch up on his paperwork, and Ivan, as well as Tag, who didn't take too much time off.

On Wednesday Clay and Ivan collected the trash as the morning sky lightened and the new day began. Clay drove the trash buggy, although it was a little on the wobbly side compared to the Buick. They simply didn't make beach buggies the way they once did.

After drinking coffee and holding hands for a while, Clay went to the Conservancy to get some work done. Ivan did hold down the fort. He dreamed up the Cove Campgrounds, and he liked being there.

When Ivan looked up, after hearing the tinkling of the bell, he saw it wasn't Annabel Lee.

Tag returned to work shortly after Clay left for the Conservancy.

"I told you to take some time off," Ivan complained.

"I did. I was off all afternoon yesterday. I was going stir crazy at my house. I needed to get out of there by this morning. When I got into the car, I didn't have anywhere to go, so I came here," Tag explained. "I belong here, Boss. I appreciate you giving me time off, but I belong here. Can't we go back to the old schedule. It worked fine for me before you went away. I had plenty of time off then. You do the trash. You know how you love getting up while it's still dark. You do that and I'll be here at eight to nine and I'll stay late."

"Have it your way, Tag. I did miss you and our chats. Clay wants to help with the trash until Dylan is home. We're still getting reacquainted. It's nice to be home, Tag."

The schedule went back to the way Tag suggested. Before Ivan went to dinner at the Conservancy house, he made sure Tag didn't have anything to do.

Ivan was glad to be home and able to get back to work. He had more ideas and he wanted to set up a miniature golf course beside JK's Kitchen. The kids would love it in the evening, and the family just might decide to eat at JK's before or after they played miniature golf.

JK's prices were reasonable for working stiffs. The food was great. The old fisherman knew his way around seafood. There was a line to get in at dinnertime, while the campgrounds stayed full. People loved the Cove Campgrounds. Even on the hottest days, that little section of beach stayed surprisingly cool. Except on the hottest days, sleeping was comfortable. If it became too hot during the day, there was relief a few feet away with water, water all around.

A miniature golf course would give diners something to do while waiting to eat, or after they ate and wanted to keep moving. To walk off all those wonderful calories, there was the golf course.

Ivan was thinking about a Ferris wheel that would go in the lot across from JK's and between the highway and the Fish Warehouse. He didn't want a gigantic Ferris wheel that would give people a wonderful view of the Gulf. He'd charge a quarter to play Goofy Golf. The Ferris wheel would be free and part of the camper's experience.

Ivan never stopped planning, and he had to consider creating more campsites. There was almost a half mile of forest between the cove and the Sanibel Island Conservancy.

People waited for a campsite to come open at the Cove Campgrounds. When he got home, there was a page of names and phone numbers. He'd try not to cut down too many trees, and he'd offer rustic sites with water and electricity. He'd keep the three wilderness sites, for those who wanted to rough it. He'd start with five new rustic sites and add more if needed. These campers would have parking just below the sites he added.

Ivan told Tag, you're a partner, you do what you want with hours. I will need to increase your pay. I'd pay you what I pay myself, only I don't take any pay. I suppose you'd need more than that."

Tag didn't mind more pay. He didn't argue. He didn't mind working, and he was looking forward to taking out the Gulf tour boat each day. He liked how the Gulf of Mexico excited campers.

Clay left the Conservancy at six, swung by to pick up Ivan, and they'd go home to shower and walk to the Conservancy house for dinner. This was partly to exercise and partly to be able to swim on their way back to Ivan's, which became a habit they both enjoyed.

They enjoyed all the time they shared, and they shared a lot of it. Before Ivan was taken away from him, Clay was all about work. He was on a mission from God, and he intended to save the oceans and the creatures in it. He would still do that, except he'd do it when he wasn't busy doing something with his man.

The oceans had been there since the dawn of time. The Gulf of Mexico had been there at least that long. Man had been fouling the world's waterways since they saw water the first time and thought it was a perfect place to dump their garbage and junk.

It was a bad idea when they started doing it, and with billions of people clogging the earth, the problem became worse by the year. Clay wanted to have a hand in stopping this stupidity, but he knew water was too convenient for most people not to use it to dump whatever it was they no longer wanted and were tired of looking at.

As for Clay and Ivan, swimming on the way back to Ivan's gave them more exercise and a way to be together they hadn't taken advantage of before.

The Gulf was almost always a perfect temperature. The exercise had them feeling less stuffed, after stuffing themselves on Mama's table. As they lingered on the beach between swims, there were other things to occupy them, which meant another dive into the Gulf to rinse off the sand. It was another battle that couldn't be won, as long as they kept dallying together on the beach.

It was the dives into the Gulf that meant showering after swimming was a necessity. They could rinse off the sand by running back into the Gulf, but the Gulf was extremely salty.

If you didn't rinse it off, salt appeared in nooks and crannies as a white substance on the skin. Showering took care of that problem, not to mention several other problems that were likely to pop up when these two were in the shower together.

Being an environmentalist meant it was easy for Clay to explain the need for more people to shower together. Not to mention how showering together promoted closer relationships.


Send Rick an email at quillswritersrealm@yahoo.com

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