Free Two Thin Dimes by Caleb Alexander Page B

told her in between their laughter.
    She turned and stared at him over her shoulder. “How do we do it again? That was fun!”
    â€œWell, first we have to take this one off, and put it inside of the ice chest. Then we’ll have to bait the hook with another worm.”
    Tameer stood and removed the ten-inch bass from the hook. Displaying some of his athletic prowess, he leaped from the top of the boulder onto the ground, and placed the fish inside of their Styrofoam ice chest.
    Jamaica waved the empty fishing line in front of him. “You do the worm for me.”
    Tameer nodded and smiled. “Yeah, this time. But next time, I’ll show you how to do it. Deal?”
    Jamaica hesitated for several moments, and then relented. “Deal.”
    Peering out over the lake, Tameer removed his T-shirt, revealing his chiseled upper body, and bulging muscles. Jamaica blushed.
    â€œTameer, I’m sorry,” she told him. “You know, about how I acted.”
    He nodded. “It’s okay.”
    â€œI just had a bad experience with fish.” One big, black, slimy one in particular, she didn’t say out loud.
    â€œYeah?” Tameer lifted an eyebrow. “I thought you hadn’t been fishing before?”
    â€œI hadn’t,” she answered, adjusting her position on the hard rock. She could feel the jaggedness of the boulder against her derierre. “Actually, it’s sort of like a recurring nightmare. I have this dream where this big, shiny, black-and-white fish keeps licking me in the face.”
    Tameer laughed.
    Jamaica folded her arms. “It’s not funny! And you know what scares me? The more it licks me, the more I scream, and the more I scream, the more the crowd applauds.”
    â€œI thought that I had some weird dreams,” Tameer told her. He leaped back onto the boulder and positioned himself just behind her. “Are you ready?”
    â€œYeah.” Jamaica rose and maneuvered herself until once again she was seated between his legs. She leaned her head back against his muscular bare chest, as he wrapped his arms around her to grab the fishing pole.
    â€œOkay, we’re going to cast the line,” he said.
    Tameer carefully maneuvered the pole around his shoulder, and then sharply whipped it forward, sending the tightly wound line far into the blue-green waters of the lake.
    â€œWee, this is fun!” Jamaica shouted. She turned her head toward him. “So, who taught you how to fish?”
    â€œMy dad, when I was younger,” Tameer told her.
    â€œYeah? Seems like you two are close.”
    â€œWe were.” Tameer nodded sadly. “But mostly we fight now.”
    â€œWhy?” she asked.
    â€œMy mother left when I was a kid,” Tameer explained. “My father turned to the bottle, and over the years, he’s gotten deeper and deeper into it.”
    â€œThat’s awful,” Jamaica told him. She turned and faced the lake again. “Me, I remember only a few things about my father. He went away when I was young, and even when he was with us, he was a workaholic.”
    â€œSo, what happened to him?” Tameer asked.
    Jamaica leaned her head back against his chest once again, and closed her eyes. “Well, I haven’t told this to anyone before, and I can’t believe that I’m even telling you.”
    She opened her eyes and exhaled. “He’s in prison. He was an investor, and he supposedly laundered money, and sold a lot of bad bonds.”
    â€œWow, that’s heavy,” Tameer said softly. “So, you haven’t heard from him in a while?”
    â€œAll of the pictures that I have of him are old,” Jamaica said sadly. “My mother tells everyone that he died in an airplane crash.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œShe wants to protect us, and protect her good name.”
    â€œDo you know where he is?” Tameer asked.
    Jamaica nodded. “Sure.”
    â€œYou ever