Pilate's Shadow by J Alexander Greenwood

Author:J Alexander Greenwood [Greenwood, J Alexander]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Caroline Street Press
Published: 2019-11-05T22:00:00+00:00

After gorging on yellowtail and clam strips, the pair enjoyed a beer in relative silence. Pilate glanced around the restaurant’s dining room, festooned with twinkling party lights hanging from the ceiling, fishing knick-knacks and pictures jamming the walls.

The waitress dropped the check on the table and collected plates. Pilate slid it in front of himself as Ron drained the last of his beer.

“Seen him lately?” Ron asked, eyes low, elbows on the table.

“No,” Pilate said, fishing a credit card from his wallet. “You?”

Ron nodded. “Yup, he was touching up the paint on the TenFortyEZ. I think he plans to start taking charters again real soon.”

“He okay?” Pilate asked.

“He’s full of piss and vinegar as usual, but moving awful slow. That Jamaican affair was pretty tough on him.”

“I know. It was..,…” he trailed off, his voice losing energy.

“The wife has him on a short leash,” Ron added.

Pilate nodded. The last words he had with Jordan were more perfunctory than usual, and not kind. He brought the TenFortyEZ back to her from Jamaica, and asked to see Taters, who had recently arrived back home to recuperate from the heart condition that Pilate’s last adventure had badly exacerbated. She told Pilate he was no longer welcome in their home, on their boat, or in their lives.

Pilate respected that, yet he missed his friend.

“You should call him,” Ron said, watching Pilate scrawl a tip and his signature on the check. “Jordan has probably cooled off by now.”

“Yeah, well I don’t think I’m allowed to,” Pilate said. “She said not to.”

“Who gives a shit? She your mother?” He rolled his head around on his shoulders, as if trying to work out a kink, then faced Pilate. “Look man, you didn’t drive all the way out here to buy me lunch because you missed me. For chrissake, you and I only know each other through Taters Malley.”

Pilate shook his head slowly, his eyes on a Christmas light bulb flickering above the table. “I just want to know if he’s alright.”

Ron stood up, crumpling a napkin at his place setting, shaking his head; large, heavy-lidded eyes pondering Pilate. “Makes me no difference, but life’s pretty short as it is, never mind having a bum ticker.”

Pilate looked up at Ron. “Is it that bad?”

He shrugged. “Could be. Could be not. I’m just sayin’ you gotta bury that hatchet. This is between you and him—not you and Jordan. Now, thanks for the lunch, amigo, but I gotta go see Rosarita about knocking the BBs off my neck.”

“What?” Pilate said, rising to his feet.

He pointed at this dome before putting his hat on. “She gives me a nice shave on my head and neck.”

“Oh,” Pilate said, extending a hand. “Thanks Ron. If uh, if you talk to him?”

Ron sighed, hands on his hips. “I ain’t your messenger service, JP, but tell you what, just this once, I’ll let him know you asked after him.” He nodded and winked.

“Thanks Ron, thanks a lot.”

Ron nodded, slipping a toothpick in his mouth and easing away from the table.

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