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Story: Secrets in Calusa Cove
As a small child, she’d thought she wanted to work for Parks and Rec. Or maybe Fish and Wildlife. Now, she dreamed of being a photographer and journalist to see the world through a different lens than what she’d lived.
But she couldn’t leave her father.
Without her to cushion the blows, Calusa Cove would destroy him. It would eat him alive and spit out his bones.
Very few people liked her dad. Less respected him. They saw him as a crazy old man who believed in conspiracy theories.
They were right about that.
But he was also kind, loving…gentle. He knew his brain wasn’t quite right. He got that. But he also knew he still had one foot firmly planted in reality.
Only, you never really knew what you were getting when you talked to her old man. It was always a mishmash of both fantasy and reality.
“Daddy?”
“Yes, darling,” her father whispered.
“I’m sorry about what I said earlier today. I didn’t mean it.”
“I know, pumpkin. I know,” he said. “Forget about it.”
“So, what are we looking for?” She leaned against her dad’s arm and rested her head on his strong shoulder, the annoyance of being woken up on a school night long gone. Who cared about a stupid stats test? She wasn’t going to college. And no matter how much Ken pleaded, for as long as her dad had breath, she wasn’t leaving Calusa Cove.
As she stared at the lush trees hanging above while they took the last bend in Snake River, she wondered if she’d ever leave this place. What people thought of her didn’t matter. The call to the Everglades was stronger.
“I’ve always found it interesting that we’ve named almost every island back here but one, though at high tide, it’s not really an island, but a mush peninsula.” Her dad kissed her temple. “But it’s like Florida has dug its heels in and said,We’re not going to know. It’s the island with no name.”
“Well, then it kind of has a name.” She smiled. “No one comes back this far or down this way much. Not even on airboats.” She reached for her cell phone. No service, but she could snap pictures. “Though, Ken told me once he knew a few guys who came down from Fort Lauderdale through this section.”
It had taken them two hours to get to this spot, and they had hauled ass. But she absolutely enjoyed the ride. It hadn’t been too balmy—or too buggy.
Time with her dad always trumped the weird ways in which it happened.
“More people come back here than you think.” He touched her hand, lifting the spotlight toward the clearing. “Some avoid it because they don’t like to navigate through Snake River and Alligator Junction—especially at low tide—because too many boats have gotten plants and stuff caught in their engines.”
“But that’s why we have cages.”
Her dad laughed. “That’s for bigger debris, and we’ve had this conversation a million times.”
“I know.” She hugged his arm with her free hand. “Look at those eyes in the water over there. Got to be at least four gators just hanging out.”
“This is a prime location for them,” her dad said. “I knew a guy when I was in high school who came back here and wrestled three of them at once.”
“I remember.” Audra shivered. “Hector Mendoza. He died back here.”
“No. He disappeared,” her dad said, “on a night much like tonight about ten years ago. He told his wife he was going out early because he saw someone doing something fishy back here, and he never made it home. Some people believe he got eaten by an alligator. Others wonder if a swamp monster got him—or if he came face-to-face with Edgar Watson.”
She laughed. “I love that tale.”
“So do I, child.” Her dad nodded. “However, there are some who believe that Hector was murdered back here for what he thought he saw.”
She’d heard this a million times. “You’re the only one who believes that.” She glanced up. “Why are we out here?”
“I swear I saw something.” He pushed the lever and turned the boat toward the island with no name.
At night, everything looked different in the Everglades. During the day, it was rich in vegetation. Rich in beauty. One could get lost in the decadence of it all.
Once the sun dipped below the horizon, it was like stepping onto a horror set. Cue the music forPsycho.And yet, it was still the only place in the world she felt at home.
But she couldn’t leave her father.
Without her to cushion the blows, Calusa Cove would destroy him. It would eat him alive and spit out his bones.
Very few people liked her dad. Less respected him. They saw him as a crazy old man who believed in conspiracy theories.
They were right about that.
But he was also kind, loving…gentle. He knew his brain wasn’t quite right. He got that. But he also knew he still had one foot firmly planted in reality.
Only, you never really knew what you were getting when you talked to her old man. It was always a mishmash of both fantasy and reality.
“Daddy?”
“Yes, darling,” her father whispered.
“I’m sorry about what I said earlier today. I didn’t mean it.”
“I know, pumpkin. I know,” he said. “Forget about it.”
“So, what are we looking for?” She leaned against her dad’s arm and rested her head on his strong shoulder, the annoyance of being woken up on a school night long gone. Who cared about a stupid stats test? She wasn’t going to college. And no matter how much Ken pleaded, for as long as her dad had breath, she wasn’t leaving Calusa Cove.
As she stared at the lush trees hanging above while they took the last bend in Snake River, she wondered if she’d ever leave this place. What people thought of her didn’t matter. The call to the Everglades was stronger.
“I’ve always found it interesting that we’ve named almost every island back here but one, though at high tide, it’s not really an island, but a mush peninsula.” Her dad kissed her temple. “But it’s like Florida has dug its heels in and said,We’re not going to know. It’s the island with no name.”
“Well, then it kind of has a name.” She smiled. “No one comes back this far or down this way much. Not even on airboats.” She reached for her cell phone. No service, but she could snap pictures. “Though, Ken told me once he knew a few guys who came down from Fort Lauderdale through this section.”
It had taken them two hours to get to this spot, and they had hauled ass. But she absolutely enjoyed the ride. It hadn’t been too balmy—or too buggy.
Time with her dad always trumped the weird ways in which it happened.
“More people come back here than you think.” He touched her hand, lifting the spotlight toward the clearing. “Some avoid it because they don’t like to navigate through Snake River and Alligator Junction—especially at low tide—because too many boats have gotten plants and stuff caught in their engines.”
“But that’s why we have cages.”
Her dad laughed. “That’s for bigger debris, and we’ve had this conversation a million times.”
“I know.” She hugged his arm with her free hand. “Look at those eyes in the water over there. Got to be at least four gators just hanging out.”
“This is a prime location for them,” her dad said. “I knew a guy when I was in high school who came back here and wrestled three of them at once.”
“I remember.” Audra shivered. “Hector Mendoza. He died back here.”
“No. He disappeared,” her dad said, “on a night much like tonight about ten years ago. He told his wife he was going out early because he saw someone doing something fishy back here, and he never made it home. Some people believe he got eaten by an alligator. Others wonder if a swamp monster got him—or if he came face-to-face with Edgar Watson.”
She laughed. “I love that tale.”
“So do I, child.” Her dad nodded. “However, there are some who believe that Hector was murdered back here for what he thought he saw.”
She’d heard this a million times. “You’re the only one who believes that.” She glanced up. “Why are we out here?”
“I swear I saw something.” He pushed the lever and turned the boat toward the island with no name.
At night, everything looked different in the Everglades. During the day, it was rich in vegetation. Rich in beauty. One could get lost in the decadence of it all.
Once the sun dipped below the horizon, it was like stepping onto a horror set. Cue the music forPsycho.And yet, it was still the only place in the world she felt at home.
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