Tears of Abraham

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR River of Grass

The boat the officer had promised waited in the water at Bayfront Park, guarded by a bored-looking MP. Henry stepped out of the car and walked to the boat while his companions got their gear ready.

The boat would not do. It was a nice boat, a thirty-foot open fisherman that would have been ideal for trolling in the Gulf Stream for marlin.

Henry groaned.

“Look,” he said to the young soldier. “This isn’t what we asked for. It’s an open-water boat.”

The guy shrugged. “Best we could do,” he said. “Look around. Do you see many boats? Everybody who could left already. You’re lucky to have this one.”

“It’s not going to get me where I need to go,” Henry said. “We’re headed south to Lake Surprise. Card Sound.” A thin bit of misdirection.

“Sorry, man.”

“How did you get here?” Henry said.

“What do you mean?”

“Did you walk? Did you fly? Did you teleport?”

“A car. There’s no need to be a jerk.”

“How much fuel have you got?”

“Full tank,” the man said.

“I’ll be taking that,” Henry replied. “You go on back to the base in our car.”

“Whatever, man.”

Henry drove west through the Redlands, past wide open fields where crops languished, brown and decaying. This would have been strawberry season. There was no one to work the fields and no water to irrigate them with.

The roads were mostly clear and ruler straight, and Henry kept the accelerator pegged. His chest was tight and he was frantic with worry. Carlos and Wallace tried to distract him with jokes and war stories, but Suzanne and Taylor filled his mind.

They entered Everglades National Park, blowing by the Anhinga ranger station at a hundred miles an hour.

The river of grass stretched for endless miles on all sides. It amazed Henry that an area as wild and huge could exist so close to the sprawling megatropolis of Miami. Brown and green saw grass danced in the gentle breeze, and hardwood hammocks rose in places like islands of green. Anhingas, curious-looking waterbirds with serpentine necks, perched at the edges of the water with wings stretched out, drying off in the winter sun. A few deer bounded through the tall grass. Alligators, looking like blown-out car tires, sunned themselves on the side of the road and sometimes in the middle of it, where Henry went around them.

Henry saw a few campers on the side of the road in different dry spots, tents bright and cheerful against the subdued tan and brown tones of the wilderness.

He prayed they could find a boat at Flamingo. If there were no boats, he would search for a canoe. It would be a long trip, but it was doable. He’d find a way.

“We’d better hope that major doesn’t come in this direction,” Carlos noted.

“He’s got no idea where we’re headed,” Henry said.

“Well, he’s not going to let it go, you can be sure of that.”

“I know it. I shouldn’t have done what I did.”

“We’ll be all right,” Wallace said. “He’ll wake up with a headache and a bad attitude. It’ll shake out in the end.”

Henry hoped Wallace was right. The major was the least of his worries.

They made excellent time. Not having the right boat was a blessing in disguise. Let’s see if our luck holds.

There were hundreds of people there, camping, a spontaneous community of folks who’d escaped the suburbs.

Teenagers played a game of touch football in the parking lot. Kids ran around with squirt guns and bathing suits. There was the smell of cooking fish mixed with the scent of the water.

A uniformed park ranger who looked like he was on the verge of forced retirement ambled toward the vehicle, waving at them and smiling.

“Howdy,” he said. “Military?”

“Yes sir,” Henry replied.

Carlos, Wallace, and McCoy opened the trunk and pulled out rucksacks loaded down with weapons and ammo.

“There’s nothing happening around here,” the ranger said, looking worried. “Everybody here is kind of minding their own business. Helping each other. We don’t need a bunch of shooting. Lot of kids, as you can see. Families.”

“I see that,” Henry replied. “We’re not going to be staying. I need your help. We need a flats boat. It’s very important.”

“We’re rationing fuel here,” the ranger said. “Started to pool our resources right away.”

“Like I said,” Henry said, keeping his voice calm, “Very important.”

“Where are you headed?”

“I’d prefer not to say. Please, we just need a boat.”

The ranger gave Henry a quiet stare, then nodded his head. “All right. I can give you a lift.”

“I appreciate that, but it’s better if you just lend me your boat.”

“Hmm.”

“Safer for you,” Henry said.

There was a crowd forming around them.

Henry lowered his voice. “People might get hurt. We need to be gone.”

“All right,” the ranger sighed. “I’m too old to put myself smack dab in the middle of whatever it is you’ve got yourselves into. I hope it’s worth it.”

“It is.”

“Boat’s got better than a half tank. That gonna be enough?”

“How far will that get me?”

“Fifty miles or so, give or take.”

“That’ll do. Thank you.”

The boat was a well-maintained Fish and Game craft, ideal for crossing into Hells Bay. Henry pulled away from the dock with a final wave at the ranger and was up on a plane in seconds. He was almost home.

He grinned into the wind as it whipped through his hair, and the sun was warm and good on his face.