nothinâ. Iâve always got âem on grass shrimp.â
âWell, why havenât you got shit this year?â
âTodayâs the day. Todayâs the day. We got lucky bro here,â announced Earl, patting Ed on the shoulder.
âShee-it! I been out with you damn near every weekend for the past two months, and we ainât caught shit on grass shrimp,â countered Donny, reaching for another shrimp.
âMud shrimp are the shitsâmessy, nasty, smelly bastards. You gotta wrap âem with string and shit. No thanks.â
âPus. Whatâs wrong with a little stink on your finger?â Donny laughed. âShit, you should smell my peter right now.â
Donny and Earl laughed out loud, as Ed chuckled halfheartedly. Donny finished baiting his hooks, cast his line, and plopped down in his chair. He then reached into the ice chest for a beer.
âYep, damn near wore it smooth last night.â
âYeah? I thought you looked a little more weathered than usual this morning.â
âShit, if you shot as much protein out the end of your pecker as I did last night, youâd be tired too,â roared Donny. âIt was wild.â
âYeah?â
âW-I-L-D, wild.â
âReally?â said Earl, showing both surprise and interest. âThatâs saying something, coming from you.â
âHey, they donât call me the El Sobrante Slammer for nothinâ. Swinginâ meat, thatâs me!â
Earl and Donny laughed.
âMeat-head, donât you mean?â muttered Ed.
âWhoa!â Earl cackled.
Donny eyed Ed for a moment and then took a swig of beer. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a pack of Marlboro 100âs. Putting the pack to his mouth, he drew a cigarette between his lips and lit it, exhaling a large plume of bluish smoke.
âEddy boy,â Earl continued, âyouâd be surprised at the tales Iâve heard out here on this bay. Olâ Donny here pulls these gals left and right, believe it or not. Iâll be damned if I know why.â
âCharm, boy, I keep tellinâ ya. Itâs all about the charm,â Donny asserted, flicking his ash.
Earl and Ed eyed at each other with slight grins.
âYa see,â continued Donny, âsure, Iâm an obnoxious prick. We all agree on that. But women love that shit. Tell it like it is, thatâs what I say. If I got me a boner goinâ, I say so. If I think some gal has got a nice round ass, I let her know it. Hell, you canât hit the ball if you donât swing the bat, and I been swinginâ my bat around this town for long time now!â
Donny and Earl both laughed.
âWell,â Ed piped in, âI hope youâre putting condoms, on that âbat,â cause Iâd hate to imagine you breeding.â
âOooh, good one there, Pee Wee,â Donny responded, taking a drag from his cigarette, followed by a pull from his beer. He then let loose a loud, wet, smoke-filled belch.
The sound resonated through Ed. He leaned back, smiled, and looked out across the water.
Chapter 18
W HO Y OU L AUGHING A T ?
T hey were fishing relatively close to the Pumphouse, probably less than fifty yards by Earlâs reckoning. He usually didnât like to fish too close to any type of structure. There was always the possibility that they would hook into a hog, as they called the larger sturgeon, and Earl didnât like to chance the fish wrapping the line around a piling on a long run. Today, however, he decided to fish in tight to allow his brother to get a good sense of being at the Pumphouse.
Earl had learned over the years how to read the water. Any seasoned fishermen could use the elements at hand to make a calculated decision on where and when to fish. In making his calculations, Earl knew how to figure in the tide, the temperature, the depth and color of the water, whether or not it had recently rained, the
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley