GONE FISHIN’
A BEACH SHORT
by
Lee Carey
_____
Copyright © 2010 by Lee Carey
SMASHWORDS EDITION
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GONE FISHIN’
Dave Coleman, a twenty-five-year-old laid off computer technician, loaded his battered Ford pickup and put Bluefield, West Virginia in his rearview mirror for a much needed week of relaxation. When asked by friends where he was going, he smiled and replied, “Fishin’.”
Dave arrived at Sandbridge Beach on Saturday afternoon and checked into the small, stilted oceanfront rental. From the deck, he gazed across the Atlantic and punched his mental ‘delete button’ and erased all negative thoughts from his head. “This is a perfect place to make plans for my future. The boundaries are limitless,” he said, releasing a long, satisfying sigh.
Within two hours, Dave was knee-deep in salt water, casting his bottom rig over cotton-topped waves. After landing several nice-sized spot, he decided on one more cast before taking a refreshment break. While waiting patiently for a nibble, he tightened the line to remove any slack. “I didn’t feel a bite, but something’s on,” he mumbled, reeling it in. As the wave crashed onto shore, he noticed a large zip-lock Baggie hanging from the bottom hook. “What in the world?”
He gazed into the bag and spotted a hot-pink cell phone and a folded slip of paper. “Looks like a message in a Baggie,” he chuckled, strolling back to his chair.
After opening a frosty-friendly adult beverage, he poured it into an insulated mug and took a long cooling swig. “Let’s see what little treasure I’ve snagged in the Atlantic.” With sand-covered fingers he opened the phone, noticing one bar of power remaining on the battery. “Wonder if there are any messages?” Then he unfolded the reddish white piece of paper. “Hey, looks like a Virginia lottery ticket.” After a detailed inspection, he noticed the date of the drawing was July 4th. “That’s today. I hope ‘whoever’ picked the right numbers.”
Dave returned to his rented cottage and relaxed on the deck, letting his trained fingers tap the cell’s buttons, quickly locating its owner’s phone number. He picked up his cell and dialed the number. The pink phone played a snappy instrumental as he waited for the message. “Sunny beach days to you. This is Sylvia. I’m unable to take your call cause I’m probably surfin’ or fishin’. Leave a message.”
Dave chuckled and closed his phone. “Nice voice. Wonder what Sylvia looks like?” he said, heading for the shower. “If she checks her missed calls maybe she’ll call my number back.”
As the hot day slipped into a humid evening, he decided on a seafood dinner at the Island Restaurant and Raw Bar on the corner. Dave put Sylvia’s pink phone into his pocket and walked north on Sandfiddler Road. Sylvia’s phone remained silent.
The attractive hostess seated Dave at a table beside a large window. He gazed over the sand dune and sipped a cold beer and removed the lottery ticket from his pocket. “Let’s see, 9-12-22-45-51-54. Maybe they’re Sylvia’s favorite numbers.”
After finishing a delicious meal of raw oysters and fried flounder, Dave asked Summer, the cute, blonde-haired waitress, what time the lottery drawing took place. She replied, “Eleven o’clock on Channel 10.” He thanked her and returned to his cottage, finding himself surrounded by a fantastic coastal fireworks show put on by locals. After a while, he glanced at his watch. “Only five minutes to find out if Sylvia’s luckier with picking numbers than hanging onto her phone.”
A large clear plastic box filled the screen as balls floated around inside. The young woman announced, “Tonight’s jackpot is 25 million. Good luck.” As each ball entered a tube, she read the number. “12. 51. 45.” Dave’s heart skipped a beat. “9. 22. And the mega ball is…54.” Blinking blurry eyes, Dave compared the yellow numbers flashing on the screen, to Sylvia’s ticket. Within a few seconds the reality of winning filled his head. The square piece of paper slipped from his fingers and floated down onto his sunburned foot. After taking a deep breath, he whispered, “This ticket’s a winner.”
* * * *
Peaceful sleep dodged Dave for two nights. He sat up in bed, blinking blurry eyes and watched the red orb emerge from the Atlantic. Ideas of what to do with the ‘found’ 25 million-dollar winning lottery ticket darted through his head like the seagulls slicing the blue horizon. “I’d better make a decision or I’ll go crazy,” he mumbled.
Dave carried his coffee to the coastline and walked south. As he strolled alongside the white-capped ocean, visions of the pink cell phone and Sylvia’s cheerful voice invaded his thoughts. He found a vacant stretch of beach and plopped down and watched waves crashing the shore. He released several deep sighs and sipped his coffee. Do I honestly deserve this money? Does finding something automatically qualify ownership?
While scooping a handful of white sand he let it slip slowly between his fingers and watched several dolphins riding the waves. “If I keep her money, how would it feel to spend it? Whenever I bought something – would I be haunted and robbed of the pleasure?”
Dave walked back toward the cottage, even more confused. With each thought, his rationalizations suddenly appeared with crystal-clear clarity. He watched a large seagull descend from the morning sky, swoop down, and snatch a crab from a smaller gull. The little bird squawked, taking off after the thief. “No matter how I view my ‘find’, in reality I’m stealing money from Sylvia,” he whispered, approaching the cottage.
As he entered the main room, his eyes quickly fell on Sylvia’s cell phone. As if drawn by a powerful magnet, he picked it up and turned it on. “If she’s called, I can either ignore or respond. It’s my decision.”
Suddenly three beeps sounded from the phone. The screen announced a ‘voice mail’. Dave knew without knowing Sylvia’s password he would not be able to retrieve the message. So, using his high-tech knowledge he scrolled to ‘Missed’ and highlighted the most recent call and hit the ‘send’ button. When a woman answered, Dave’s heart skipped a beat. “Yes, I’m Dave Coleman. I’m trying to get in touch with Sylvia. I found her cell phone on the beach.” The lady said she was a friend of Sylvia. He gave her his cell number and asked her to have Sylvia call.
With this part of his decision completed, he decided to pass the time fishing. Two hours later his phone chirped. In a nervous voice, Dave explained how he found her phone, leaving out the accompanying lottery ticket. They agreed to meet at the Island Restaurant around six o’clock. “She sounded mighty excited and grateful,” he said while re-baiting the hooks.
Dave arrived early and guzzled two ice-cold beers. Suddenly, the door squeaked opened. His eyes focused on an attractive young woman as she stepped inside. She stopped and gazed across the crowed dining room. Raising a trembling hand, he stood on legs of rubber. She noticed him and mouthed, “Dave?” He nodded.
Sylvia slowly sat across the table from him. In nervous fashion they went through introductions and small talk. Immediately Dave was attracted to her. Sylvia’s light brown, sun-streaked hair and large brown eyes captivated him. Her laughter and friendly personality were infectious. She sipped a glass of white wine as he described reeling in the bag containing her phone, again leaving out the other item.
Summer, the friendly waitress, approached the table and spoke to Sylvia. Dave realized they were friends as Sylvia excitedly told her about a large wave rolling onto the beach and taking her bag out to sea, and how Dave fished it in. Summer turned to Dave and smiled. “Hey, were you lucky with the lottery the other night? You know the big winner was from Virginia Beach, right?”
Before Dave could put a reply together, Sylvia frantically dove into her small shell-covered purse. “Wow, I forgot I had a ticket for the drawing. Anyone know the winning numbers?”
Summer replied, “The newspaper is in the office. I’ll go get it, Sylvia.”
As Summer walked away, Sylvia continued to dig through her purse. She shook her head and mumbled, “It won’t matter what the numbers are…I’ve lost my ticket.” She took a sip of wine and shot Dave a cute smile.
His heart pounded his chest like a jackhammer, his breathing quickened, and he felt sweat bubbling on his sunburned forehead. It’s showtime. He slowly removed the flimsy piece of paper worth 25 million dollars from his wallet. “Sylvia, here’s your lottery ticket.” She stared at him with wide-open brown eyes. He nodded and handed it to her. “It was in the bag with your phone.”
“Well, thank you, Dave. You’re a real gentleman. When Summer comes back I’ll check the numbers, but I’ve never won anything.”
A tension-releasing smile appeared on Dave’s face. “Sylvia, that ticket is the big winner. Congratulations.”
“Really?” she whispered. “Honest? Ah, you’re kidding me.”
Slowly shaking his head, he replied, “You are now a multi-millionaire, Sylvia.”
Breathing in quick spurts she scanned the ticket in silence for a long minute. When she looked up at him, she smiled and extended her hand. “Then so are you, Dave.”