The North Line by Matt Riordan

Author:Matt Riordan [Riordan, Matt]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hyperion Avenue
Published: 2024-03-06T00:00:00+00:00

EIGHTEEN

Cole was mixing baked beans with canned spaghetti when Adam returned.

“That’s maybe not your number one skill,” said Adam.

“It’s hot, brown, and edible,” said Cole, “and there’s enough here for you too.”

Adam examined the empty cans. He didn’t recognize the West Coast brand names, house brands for supermarket chains he had never seen. Cole said he’d found them in the container. Their bottle of Tabasco was the large food-service size, but it had separated so that it was clear on top and the bottom portion was the color of rust. Adam shook it until it was a uniform color and used it to coax the steaming mix to edibility.

Cole finished and wiped his bowl clean with a paper towel. “Well,” he said, “I’m not hungry anymore.”

Wrenches and wads of oil-stained paper towels were strewn about the deck where Cole had been working. Adam kicked some tools out of the way and sat down. Cole reached into a duffel bag on the deck and fished out two beers. The cans had expanded on both ends so that they were football-shaped.

“Found these in the container too,” said Cole. “Looks like they’ve wintered over. Maybe more than once. And they’re warm.”

Adam looked his over. “How can I refuse?”

Cole cracked his and sipped. “I had a few earlier. They didn’t blind me, and there’s plenty.” He gestured at the shipping container just off the stern. “Something to be said for that.”

They drank for more than an hour. Then it was well past ten, though the sun stayed high. It still felt unnatural, like there was something stuck in the gears somewhere.

When Nash returned, he popped open a beer and brought it to his lips. “Christ,” he said, and threw the can over the side. “You fuckers are going to smoke out your livers with that shit.” He produced a bag of the Thunderfuck. Adam had learned to treat it carefully, and a few shallow drags were enough to dramatically improve the flavor of the skunky beer. He was soon lost in his thoughts, in the look of the sky and the smell of the ocean, and then he realized Nash was talking to him. Something about the hydraulics and somebody he knew that had worked on the Nerka last year.

“Bronson,” said Nash. “Cole, you know Bronson?”

“Yeah,” said Cole. “I know him. He’s sober maybe one day in five.”

Nash considered this. “That’s fair enough. But you catch him sober and he’s a good man to have around.”

“He knows what he’s doing,” Cole conceded, “but I can outwork him.”

“You outwork everybody. Anyway, I just saw him in town and he was close to sober. He says the hydraulics on here are squirrelly. We want to be sure the fucking hydraulics are working before we get out there with our dicks in our hands, sitting on a net full of fish we can’t get back in the boat.” Nash pointed at Adam and Cole. “You two cocksuckers are just the guys to fix it.” Adam was swallowing beer just then and when he laughed it came out of his mouth in a foam.

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