The Killing King of Gratis

Copyright © 2014 Jay Jackson
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author or publisher.

For Lori, and our family we share.

1. Skipper
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2. Meg and Peck
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3. Delroy
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4. Kero and Newt
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5. The Turtle Palace
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6. Tommy
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7. Millicent
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8. Johnnie
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9. The Cabal of Justice

10. The Muscle
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11. Newt’s Problem
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12. Cozette
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13. The Lean
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14. An Early Triple
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15. Meet the New Boss
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16. The Pool Hall
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17. Whatever it Takes
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18. The Buster Problem
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19. Althea

20. Other Channels
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21. Althea Kicks the Habit
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22. A Good Round
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23. Anna’s New Room
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24. Nowhere to Turn
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25. One More For Cozette
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26. Meg is Bored
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27. A New Plan
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28. Hellfire
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29. A Gentleman’s Agreement

30. Skipper Regroups
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31. Motte Does Well
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32. Merry
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33. A Jail Visit
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34. The Guessing Game
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35. Amy’s On Board
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36. Change in the Air
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37. Johnnie’s Predicament
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38. Fresca and Tums
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39. Dear Old Dad

40. Old Trucks
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41. Planning a Trip
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42. The Bull Shark
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43. The Lola
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44. Finding Meg
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45. The Announcement
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46. Amy Digs In
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47. The Pre-Party
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48. The Truck
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49. The Judge Is In

50. The Scariest Thing in the World
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51. The Searchers
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52. Plan B
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53. Down By the River
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54. Skipper Gets Ready
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55. Turtle Palace Redux
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56. Old Mr. Bobcat
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57. Delroy Takes a Ride

About JAY JACKSON

S
kipper stripped naked as he walked around the pool’s edge, a gin and tonic trembling in his hand. He finally tossed his boxers and, finishing his drink, jumped in and sank to the bottom. There he sat, hoping the cold water would clear his mind. Finally he surfaced, gasping for breath, as the sun began to peek over the Atlantic.

He spent the previous night in Gratis, a rarity on the weekend. He usually left as soon as he could on Friday afternoon, barely letting the clock hit five before speeding toward his home at East Beach on St. Simon’s Island, Georgia. It was less than two hours from work if he sped, and getting to the island as soon as possible was mandatory. He preferred dodging the waves breaking on the beach to dodging south Georgia rednecks in their pickup trucks.

He grew up in Gratis, leaving to go to school in Florida as soon as he could. He would still be there if it was up to him, but Skipper had to return. His father demanded it. Mother left her entire estate to his father knowing he would use it to control their son. It wasn’t the only time she let him down before her death, but it was by far the most disappointing.

Skipper got out of the water, poured himself another drink, and tried to plan the rest of the day. Maybe he would get a foursome together and play golf at the Hampton Club. The twelfth hole, on the marsh stretching to the sea, always calmed him. He might go to Brogen’s North after that, where he knew the bartender with the heaviest hand. Right now, though, the fog in his head wouldn’t let him plan anything.

The night before, and the woman at the center of it, was all he could think of. He stared at the waves as his mind parsed through each moment with her. The green seaweed poking out of the white foam on the beach winked at him. Skipper imagined that she followed him home and was just now floating in with the tide.

He saw her not two weeks before, sitting at Le Café in Gratis, presiding at a table overflowing with some of the town’s most prominent ladies. They giggled as she spoke and only ate when she turned her attention elsewhere. The assemblage was amazingly synchronized, a water ballet of junior high boys vying for the prettiest girl. Even as she sat with her entourage, smiling at their stories and laughing, Skipper knew she was miserable.
How could such a beautiful woman be happy in such a town?

She was trapped just like him, but at least he had his island to run to. She had nothing but her lunch ladies and whatever else she could wring from this small place.
That can’t be enough,
he thought, and then,
maybe I can help her leave
.
One of us should be free.

Those thoughts grew, strangling all others, and finally led him to last night and the hours they shared, hours that flew by. Maybe he should have been ashamed of what happened, or even scared. Instead, he trembled with excitement.

The morning sky brightened to dawn’s inky blue and Skipper slipped back into the pool, swimming to the side overlooking the ocean. He made sure the green he saw in the surf was only seaweed and then ran his hands along his naked body. He felt good and didn’t notice any cuts or bruises.
Not bad, considering.

Then he examined his hands. Dried blood still clung under his fingernails and around his cuticles, stubbornly resisting the pool water. He made a note to clean them thoroughly once inside, trying to remember where he put the bleach when he got home. He would have to do something with his clothes as well. They were a mess.

Well, Skip, let’s get this day started
, he thought, closing his eyes and shaking his head for focus. First would be the clean-up, and then a round of golf. He tried to look forward to taking money from the others in his foursome, but failed. All he could do was look back. That’s where she was, and he knew he wouldn’t see her again. He missed her already.

O
n the last day of school you could get away with murder. The teachers, some bleary eyed from celebrating their success at surviving another year, looked the other way at any student indiscretion. Nothing would delay their own vacations.

The children, taking their lead from the teachers, were louder and later than usual. Talking in class was allowed and running in the hallways was expected. Some of the eighth graders ditched the last two periods, sneaking away from teachers who wouldn’t look for them, not on this day.

Meg and Peck Jones attended the Gratis School, which housed grades one through four in one wing and grades five through eight in another. They were close and rode the bus together to and from school, only separating when they had to go to their respective wings. Meg always told Peck she loved him before leaving to go to her first class, saying “Love you, baby brother.” He would respond “I love you sister girl,” and watch her until she rounded the corner of the hallway, lost to him until the final bell and the bus ride home.

At thirteen she was a true beauty and as popular as a girl could be in junior high, if jealousy was a measure of popularity. Meg handled the popularity well, rarely getting snotty unless she had to. Early on she learned that a smile usually got her what she wanted, and smiling was easy.

Peck, on the other hand, was odd. He was a loner, not really caring what others thought of him, or at least not showing it. At nine he was skin, bones, and freckles, still housed in a little boy’s body refusing to grow up. He would be ten soon but was shorter than most in his grade. That was a tough predicament at his age, and so he spent most of his time lost in his own thoughts when Meg wasn’t around.

They lived on the Bird River, not far from where it seeped into the Crane’s Neck Swamp, which everyone called the Neck, outside of town with their mother, Anna. Father died when they were very young and mother was the only parent they knew. She worked at the bank and never remarried. Slight smile lines framed her mouth and eyes, remnants of earlier days with the children’s father.

This would be their last summer of childhood. Next year, with Meg in high school, things would be different. With high school came car dates, the freshman sorority, cheerleading and everything else. She couldn’t have dodged these things if she had wanted to, and she didn’t want to. Being popular was fun, even if girls were catty and boys were intimidated. She wasn’t dumb and knew a good thing when she saw it.

Peck knew things would change with his sister as well. She was his best friend, and soon the days of spending so much time together would be gone. He wasn’t sure what he would do when that happened. His happiest times were with her, especially floating down the Bird in their father’s old johnboat.

Their backyard sloped down to where they kept the boat tied to a post at the river’s edge. Its engine barely pushed it forward against the river’s current, but took them anywhere the water was deep enough once they were in the Neck. Anna didn’t like it, but they were too hard to fight when it came to their father’s boat. She hoped he rode with them.

The pair would putter down the Bird and make their way to the far reaches of the Neck. The cypress trees, fat on the bottom like old Baptists, stood watch as the reeds and black water swayed and churned in the johnboat’s wake. Live oaks, shading their way, spread their ancient arms over the islands dotting the swamp that stretched for thousands of acres around them.

Every summer they drifted into this world. They awoke to the endless sunrises, lifted out of bed by the smell of Anna’s cooking, and at night slept to the Neck’s never-ending chorus. Before long the rest of the world would get in the way, but not before they spent this last summer of childhood together. For a little longer they would have each other, and that would be almost enough. A little brother would still have his big sister to himself, and everything else could wait.

“
L
ook, Delroy, you’re a damn asshole, your family is out of control, and I don’t give a damn if everyone knows it.” This is what met Delroy Jones in his office the first Saturday morning of summer.

“Jack, keep it down. My head is killing me, and I can’t handle your mouth right now. What are you talking about?”

“Those two kids threw some muck on my boat last night, they woke up my dogs, and I’m about done with them.” He of course meant Meg and Peck, Delroy’s late brother’s children.

“How do you know they did it? Did you see them?”

“I didn’t have to see them. I know it was them, you know it was, and so does everyone else. I’m just flat tired of it, and they’re going to find themselves peppered with birdshot if they don’t stop.”

Jack North lived a half mile down the Bird from Meg and Peck, and never liked that they had the freedom to go where they pleased. He was a big outdoorsman who wanted the river for himself. He acted as if it belonged to him and complained if someone else was disturbing his fun. Although he wasn’t the kind of man to shoot children, Delroy didn’t appreciate the threat.

“Jack, when you see those two do something, call me. Until then, watch what you say about peppering anyone, especially those kids. If you have anything else to say to me this morning, you know where my office is.” At that Delroy hung up the phone and cracked open a coke to nurse his hangover. If Jack wasn’t a client he would have said more than that.

Delroy did Jack’s legal work, along with the work of many of the old families in Gratis. Being from one of those families, he had the advantage of getting the business of those he knew or was related to in one way or another. These people were his life blood. Even Jack North was related somewhere down the line.

Delroy kept an uneasy truce with himself. He didn’t like everyone he was related to, but never missed a church homecoming or some other get-together. Each of these was an opportunity to remind everyone that he was one of them and would be there when the need arose.

He didn’t plan to come back to Gratis. In law school he met his future wife, learned to enjoy Atlanta, and believed he would only come home for the occasional holiday and funeral. After prosecuting for a couple of years he joined a small firm and thought he would be in the city for good. One afternoon, though, taking a break from researching a big case for the managing partner, Delroy came home from work earlier than expected to surprise his bride. He did just that, walking in on her and that same partner in bed with their clothes sprawled across the floor.

After that he ran from the city as fast as he could, so fast that many of his friends didn’t know until they tried to call him and he wasn’t there. Some found him in Gratis and from there they eventually dropped off. Delroy left everything from that life behind. He couldn’t stand to remember and removed himself altogether. It was cowardice and he accepted it.