Shark's Tooth

Patty opened her mouth and Blackbeard put his hand on her arm to slow her down.  Blackbeard grew up around here; his mom had been friends with Patty for years.  Growing up, Blackbeard lived with the certainty that his mom would know everything he did five minutes after he did it.  Southern men run around and do important things and run the world.  Southern women talk among themselves, know everything there is to know, and sit back and shake their heads in amazement as their men run around in circles until they wind up right back where the women knew they were going all along.

“Miss Patty,” he said, “how do you know he did it?”

“Isn’t that the way?  Big time tourist comes down here, fills small town girl’s head with big dreams, and dumps her?  Only this time, they really did dump her.  Isn’t that the way it happens?”

“Been known to happen.  You know anything to prove it?”

Patty stood up.  “That’s your job.  And I think you should go do it.”


The Nautilus house was a few miles down the road in Walton County.  They really should have had someone from the Walton County sheriff’s office with them when they went to the Nautilus house, but Blackbeard had a cousin who had a friend in the sheriff’s office, and he said it would be all right.  Or, Blackbeard’s cousin said he thought his friend would say it was all right, if he actually asked him.

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This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)