Rafe sat down to the remaining half of a pecan pie and dug in. This was his breakfast dessert having already finished off a couple of fried eggs, a can of hash, and a couple of Miller tall boys. At seventeen his metabolism provided an ever burning furnace into which he was happy to throw as much alcohol, sugar, starch, and meat as he could. He had a big day ahead and needed plenty of fuel.
As he finished his pie, the phone rang.
“Hello.” he answered
“Rafe, Billy. You about ready?”
“Yo Billy. Yeah man, I’m all set. I’ll wait for you out front.” he replied
“Okay man, be there in about ten.”
Rafe held a soft case with a thirty thirty rifle inside as he waited at the end of his suburban driveway, watching the neighbors exit their homes and drive away on their way to work. He was glad that he didn’t have to do that every day. It was July between his junior and senior years of high school and all he had on his mind was having fun and girls. Today was going to be a fun day the thought to himself. Tampa Bay had been in the grips of a red tide outbreak for the past week, which had caused large fish kills. Everywhere you went there were rotting fish floating in the waters or littering the local beaches. Lately, sharks had been congregating in the bay to feed on the dead fish and local rednecks had decided that it would be fun to gather in boats and on bridges to shoot at them. Generally rednecks consider gathering anywhere and shooting at anything to be great fun, but the fact that sharks were involved made the proposition irresistible.
Rafe soon spotted Billy in his sixty eight Chrysler cruising down the street toward him. The car’s exterior, a mixture of dark green, primer gray, and rust colored bondo, belied its mechanical integrity. The car was in tip top shape mechanically, and very fast.
Rafe jumped in and they were off to the marina to board Billy’s boat. It was an eighteen foot Boston Whaler with a flattened hull profile which made it especially good for exploring the shallow waters around Tampa Bay. They got out to open water and Rafe shouted to Billy “Hey, where do you want to try first?”
“I’m thinking man. If we go to one of the popular spots there will probably be hundreds of yahoos out there, drunk and shootin’ blind. Could be dangerous.”
“I think you’re right. I heard the highway patrol was arrested a bunch of idiots out on the Howard Franckland bridge last night. On the bridge! Jesus!”
The Howard Franckland was the busiest bridge across Tampa Bay between Tampa and St. Pete and had no breakdown lanes. Not the safest place to stop and get out of your car. But shit, these were sharks!
“Hey man, you can always count on a bunch of crackers to do something stupid. Especially if it looks like fun!” Rafe yelled over the sound of the outboards
“I was thinking maybe we could head out off of Tierra Verde, around Egmont Key. Maybe the channel traffic and the currents will keep some of the knuckleheads at bay. Waddya think?” asked Billy
“Sounds like a plan man. Hey, want a tall one?” he asked, handing a Miller over
As the boat plowed through the surf, the bow rising and slamming down on the water’s surface, Rafe couldn’t have been more at peace. He felt completely free. No school, only a part time job and beautiful weather. He could feel himself getting amped up in preparation for the fun ahead. Hell, it was such a nice day that if they couldn’t find a good spot for shark shooting they could just drop some lines and do some fishing.
Soon they arrived off of the coast of Egmont key in the main shipping channel into Tampa Bay. In the old days, ships pilots used to live on the little island with their families. There had also been a military base with barracks and gun emplacements during the Civil war. Now the island was used by the Boy Scouts for weekend camping excursions and by partiers and boaters as a place to go. The channel around the island is one of the most shark populated spots in the Eastern Hemisphere.
Rafe noticed that there were a lot of dead, rotting fish in the water, though the population was not as dense as it was in other area waters, due to the strength of the current here. Nevertheless, there were plenty of dorsal fins slicing through the water around them. There were also more boats in the area than Rafe had ever see there before. He thought to himself that a lot of lawns must be getting shaggy in Pinellas County because it appeared that most of the self-employed lawn service proprietors were currently floating around him. There were guys trying to gaff sharks, some had thrown lines in trying to catch them, and every now and then some bozo pulled out a nine millimeter and took a couple of pot shots to no apparent effect.
Billy cut the motors and they drifted for a while, observing the action around them and planning their strategy.
“What do you think Rafe? These shooters are making me nervous. I don’t fancy getting shot out here.”
“I’m right with you man. Look around and see if you can find an area with sharks that would position ourselves facing open water without a bunch of these guys around us.” said Rafe
After a few minutes Billy tapped Rafe on the shoulder and pointed toward Tampa Bay. “If we go past the boats that way we’ll still be seeing sharks with nothing in front of us. Most of these guys seem to be pointed at the island.” he said
“I think you’re right Billy let’s try over there.” Rafe responded
Billy started the engines and eased the boat through the crowds of boats in the direction he had pointed out. Soon the boats began to thin and they reached open water and cut the engines. Sure enough, there were sharks here, probably headed back toward the island where the fish kill was heavier.
They spent the next two hours shooting at sharks, hitting a few but not killing them apparently since most of the animal was underwater. Nevertheless, they had a lot of fun. Afterward they headed for marina, stopping on the way to fish for a couple of hours. All in all, a fun day.
Later that night Rafe was having a few beers at Chill’s when Billy walked in.
“Hey man, what’s up?”
“Rafe, hey, have you seen the news this evening?” he asked
“No, I haven’t watched any tv. Why?”
“Well it may be nothing, but I’ve got a bad feeling. There’s a guy got shot today on the Howard Franckland.” he said
“Well shit! You knew it had to happen sooner or later with all those assholes out there shooting sharks, most of them drunk. What was it an accident or a fight?” Rafe inquired
“Well that’s just it. Neither. Some guy was driving and crashed his car. When they went to get him out of the car, they found a bullet in his head. He’d been shot!” said Billy
“Well, like I said, them boys out there drunk and shooting at sharks it was boun….”
“NO man! There wasn’t anybody ON the bridge shooting! They interviewed all the witnesses and nobody saw anybody on the bridge!” Billy exclaimed
“Well what do they think, the goddamned invisible man shot him?” asked Rafe
“No…...they think that maybe somebody shooting somewhere else might have shot him.”
“What? HOW?” Rafe asked shaking his head
“The detective on tv was saying how bullets can ricochet pretty easily off of water. Especially with a rifle. He mentioned that there were actually a lot of reported cases around the country of people found in car crashes with bullet wounds with no apparent cause. A lot of these have been investigated and its been found that someone was shooting, sometimes up to a mile away, and they’ve been able to match the bullets to the guns.” said Billy nervously
“Did they mention what kind of slug it was?” asked Rafe
“Yeah, they did . It was a thirty thirty.” he replied
Rafe felt a chill run down his spine and suddenly felt queasy. What should he do? A thirty thirty was a fairly common hunting gauge, there were probably hundreds of them in the area. What were the odds?
“What are you gonna do Rafe?” asked Billy
“I’m not sure Billy, I’m thinking. This is has kind of thrown me, you know? I mean I’m not the only guy around with a thirty thirty man. It could have been anyone, right?”
Billy sipped at his beer for a long minute and turned to Rafe.
“It’s not up to me to tell you what to do Rafe. But there’s one easy way to find out if it was your gun. Call the police and have them check it. I don’t know how much trouble you’d be in if it was your gun. You’re my friend and I care about you, but I want you to do what’s right. How you decide to handle it is your decision, but if the police ask me if I know anybody with a thirty thirty that was out there today, I’m not gonna lie about it. I just want to you know that.”
“Aw hell Billy I wouldn’t want to put you in that position.” he replied
The rest of the evening was a rather subdued affair and ended earlier than it normally would have.
At ten the next morning the doorbell rang. Rafe answered it and let Det. Ron Dawson in and invited him into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. He then asked his mother and father to join them.
After introductions had been made he told his story. His father was mad the way fathers get mad when they know their sons have done something stupid with no ill intentions and might be in trouble. Mild anger blanketed by concern. His mom was beside herself and fighting back tears as she assured Det. Dawson that Rafe was a good boy and had never been in any trouble.
Det. Dawson asked Rafe for his rifle, wrapped it in plastic and tagged it, gave Rafe a receipt for it, and assured them all that he would be in touch as soon as the tests were completed.
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