Chapter 4 4:30PM
Wave after wave. One small cloud at a time would roll over and drown Key West, interspersed with small breaks of 95 percent humidity. Reid wasn’t absorbing it. 95 degrees with 95 percent humidity couldn’t faze Reid’s vivid short term memory. Stunned, the solitary word creeping up in his mind, floating in and out, coming to rest on his frontal lobe, defining his state of being.
Reid numbly went about putting his clothes back on, the soaked shirt giving him trouble over his sweaty, wet back. He was operating on a euphoric high as if he was skimming the surface of the standing water as he started to walk. His feet felt nothing, his body less.
It should’ve been perfect. Reid didn’t even know her name. Sometimes plans go just the way you want them. Planets align, stars fall harmlessly over the horizon, Rum Runners are a perfect blend. But what hadn’t occurred to him was what alcohol and euphoric adrenaline would do to his mind. The chemicals hyper-extended his thoughts.
While the buzz, natural and man-made, was ruining his efforts, he couldn’t drown her out. Not that it was wanted. His mind wanted to find her, something for which his planning had not accounted.
Reid cut back through the Tiki Lounge, catching the eye of the bartenderette, while clipping along at a drunkard’s light speed. He reached Duval and took a right onto the sidewalk. The sidewalk gave way to a gutter full of stagnant warm water, waiting to match the height of the riser by filling up with the next wave.
Key West mid-afternoon
The top of his bell curve wobbled. Too rounded to sit and enjoy euphoria, Reid began sliding as his first healthy alcohol buzz ebbed. He actually checked to make sure it was okay to cross Duval, momentarily thinking he was visiting Chicago on Michigan Avenue on a tepid weekend afternoon. His feet dropped into the man-made pond. Beer bottle shards punished his soles as the downslide of the bell curve hit him at the same time. Reid fell to the curb, cursing all drunk tourists en masse, shocking happy vacation families out of their idyllic state of Key Shui, watching parent’s hands mask munchkin’s ears.
Are you okay?
Reid saw an angel, kinky blonde hair rolling off her tanned face lying across her shoulders, the streetlight forming a Byzantine obulesque around her head.
Just stepped on some fucking glass.
Don’t you have shoes?
I did. Yeah. I did. But by now, maybe not.
Is it bad?
No, I can buy another pair.
Your feet. I can take you to a doctor. I can temporarily shutter this shack.
No need. Read the rest of this page »
