Free Tuna Tango by Steven Becker

started the engine, and took off. As soon as the truck was out of sight, he went into the building. “Kyle, he’s gone. Grab those bolt cutters and let’s do it.”
    He waited at the door for Kyle, who tripped crossing the threshold. Dick grabbed the cutters from him and went for the cooler door. 
    “Keep a look out.”
    The lock parted easily, the steel shank no match for the large cutters. Dick pulled it off, anxious to see what was inside. He opened the door and turned on the light. “Kyle! You gotta see this.” 
    Kyle stood next to him, looking at the floor. Sitting on a tarp was the largest fish they had ever seen. Both boys had grown up by Tampa Bay, and still fished its waters for redfish and snook, but the fish covered the entire floor. 
    “It’s a tuna.”
    “No shit, idiot. It’s a goddamn bluefin. They get like twenty bucks a pound for these.” Dick had two problems now. The first was it wouldn’t fit into the car. It was five feet long, and looked to be as wide. The second problem was that there was no way he was selling this to be ground up for a fish spread. Dirk would only give them maybe two or three bucks a pound. 
    If this fish weighed what he thought it did, and the math in his head was right, it was worth a pile of cash.
    “How are we gonna move this sucker?” Kyle asked.
    “OK. Give me a minute and let me think.” He pulled the pipe from his pocket and lit up. After two puffs he handed it to Kyle, who declined. “We got to move it and replace the lock. We’ve probably got till dark before whoever it belongs to comes looking for it. This is a felony fish, and no question, they’re not going to move it in daylight. Help me drag it to the edge. We’ll tie it down underwater. Then you can take the car and get another lock. That ought to put the dude off for a while, thinking he lost the key.”
    They both grabbed the tarp and pulled. Expecting more resistance, Kyle stumbled, as the tarp slid easily against the cold metal floor. Once outside, it was another matter as they tried to drag the fish to the seawall. The tarp tore on the gravel and they were stuck, the fish too slimy and heavy to lift by hand. Dick started pacing anxiously, desperate to find a way to move the behemoth before Will came back, or worse. Kyle went back into the building and returned a few minutes later with three pieces of pipe. 
    “What the fuck man?” Dick was getting really anxious now, and wanted another hit on the pipe, but there was no time. 
    “Relax. They built the pyramids like this. Seen it on the History Channel.” Kyle took a piece of pipe and, with Dick’s help, slid it under the fish. “It’ll roll now. I’ll push it and you get ready with the next piece. We can keep it moving if you stay one pipe ahead.”
    Dick nodded his head and waited with a section of pipe as Kyle started to push the fish. The slimy body tried to slide sideways across the smooth pipes, but other than having to direct the fish onto the pipes, it worked well. 
    “Now what?” he asked after the fish was at the seawall.
    Again Kyle went into the building. This time he came back with a dock line. He took the preformed loop and doubled it around itself, then set it over the fish’s tail. 
    “Saw that on TV too?” Dick asked.
    “Yup.” Kyle went into the water and tied the line to a pier under the building. Back on shore, they both struggled to push the fish over the seawall. It landed with a huge splash, and they looked around quickly to see if anyone were watching. Unobserved, they watched the fish roll under the building and out of sight.
    “Come on, I’ll clean this up. Take the old lock and get a new one just like it. There’s a hardware store down the street.” 
     
    ***
     
    Will was sure he passed Kyle as he drove down Gulf Boulevard toward the fish house, but he shrugged and turned his mind back to his own problems. He had used his best sales pitch on Lance when he called as soon as he left the job and