Kathy Priebe's Writing On A Blank Page

Baxter's Bay

(This was once titled Smuggler's Bay- Baxter's Bay came up in 
conversations and stuck.) 



Rodney nervously attacked his right fingernail with his teeth while he quietly sat and watched out over the ocean. This time, he swore, would be his last. He had enough money to last him the rest of his life. It was time to hand over the drug operation to someone



He never really wanted to do this in the first place. It just happened. His parents dying during hurricane Andrew, left the secluded cove without protection and the bad guys moved in. He was ripe for the picking. Sure, he had inherited the house. Well, him and Jan something, a half sister he vaguely remembered. Rodney sighed and started chewing on the next fingernail.


Then he blew through all that money left by his old man. He remembered he didn't know what to do next. He wasn't trained for anything. And Lord knows, he sure didn't want to work for a living! He should have invested it like his lawyer suggested. His lawyer,

Ha! Now there's a joke. If it wasn't for his lawyer....if, if, if..... Well, he was up to his eyeballs in it now.


That was twelve years ago and at least a dozen or more "bosses" have come and gone. Each one a little more nastier than the last. It was time to get out. To retire. He would gladly give up this piece of property to get out alive. It was a small price to pay for his life.


Rodney snapped to attention as he heard the quiet hum of the smuggler's boat engine. This latest boss made him nervous, he peered out into the inky darkness, trying to see if he could make out the small craft that would come ashore. His head snapped to the

Right as a rustle in the bushes caught his attention. "Hello?"




He let out a nervous chuckle as he caught a glance of the row boat.


He waded out into the water to help bring the smaller craft in. The headman smacked Rodney's hand away from the rope and nodded to one of his men, who promptly hopped into the water and took the rope. "You got the product?" The guy growled.


"Yeah" It came out a squeak and Rodney cleared his throat. "Yes." He spoke more clearly and firm "Up on the beach there." He nodded over his shoulder. "You got the cash?" Rodney asked, trying to act as tough as the guy.


The man sneered and looked past Rodney to the two large duffle bags sitting  in the sand just out of reach of the incoming waves, nodded and turned to sit back down.


"Wait! What are you doing?" Rodney started to bend forward to grab the boat.


A hand shot from behind Rodney and clamped a foul smelling rag over his mouth and nose. He fought back the best he knew how, fighting for his life and before he past out, he knew, today would be his last. Rodney slumped against the man with the rag.


"Grab those duffle bags." Growled from another boat that rowed into sight. "And get rid of him out in the channel.

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K.Priebe 1998

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