CHAPTER 29

Danny Delveccio tossed the last of the garbage bags into the back of the Santa Rosa Island Authority pickup. He slapped the side door to let the driver know he was finished.

“See ya tomorrow, Andy.”

“Early, dude. Gonna be some killer waves.”

“Seven?”

In reply he got a thumbs-up.

Danny walked to his car, his legs tight from a day of surfing followed by the routine walk up the beach to pick up garbage. Walking in the sand had been hard to get used to, especially the burn in his calves. He remembered the first week he couldn’t even hold himself up on his board. Who knew picking up other people’s crap could be so physically draining.

He keyed open the trunk to his Impala. Everything he owned was back here. He didn’t worry about anyone stealing the car. To a thief it’d be worthless. The tires were bald, the engine had a chronic sputter, and it needed a paint job. But it was his transportation, his home, and his lifeline.

Danny grabbed a clean towel from the stash he had just washed at the laundromat. He’d shower, stop at the vending machine, then get some sleep. Andy had heard earlier that the hurricane was already in the Gulf, and as the resident expert of such things, he assured Danny that by morning the waves would be awesome.

He closed the trunk and that’s when he saw the guy standing beside him. Scared the crap out of Danny. He jumped but didn’t let on.

“Sorry,” the man said. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Mr. B said you usually get off work about this time. I thought you might be hungry.”

“Mr. B? Coney Island Canteen Mr. B?”

The man held out a container that smelled like heaven: melted cheese, onions, French fries.

“Yeah, I met you there earlier today, remember? I’m a salesman and Mr. B mentioned you do odd jobs for hire around the beach.”

Danny squinted but the man’s face remained partly shadowed. He supposed the guy looked familiar. How could he tell from the hundreds of faces he saw every day on the beach? But if he was a friend of Mr. B’s, he had to be cool.

“I wondered if you might help me load a couple of crates into my van.”

When Danny still hesitated, the guy held out the container again.

“Cheeseburger and fries plus an Andrew Jackson? Should only take about fifteen minutes.”

Danny’s mouth watered. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was. It beat anything he’d get in the vending machines.

“Can I eat first?”

“Sure.”

He accepted the container and popped it open. He hadn’t had a burger and fries in weeks, let alone one like this. And twenty dollars for fifteen minutes of work? Danny couldn’t believe his good fortune.