Mango Star: A Mango Bob Adventure by Myers Bill H

Author:Myers, Bill H
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-03-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty

After getting settled in our Fort Pickens campsite, Zoey had asked, “Now that we’re here, what do we do next?”

There were a lot of things we could have done. We could have walked across the street to the beach and dipped our toes into the gulf waters. Or we could have gone over to the bayside and watched the ships pass through Pensacola Harbor. Or we could have strolled over to Fort Pickens and toured the ruins.

We could have done any of that. But it wasn’t what I suggested. Instead, I said, “It’s hot outside and I know you didn’t sleep well last night, so maybe we should stay here and take a nap. Then, when it cools down, we can go out and explore. What do you think?”

Zoey smiled. “I think that's exactly what I was going to suggest. That it’s too hot to be outside and it’s a good time to catch up on sleep.”

So it was agreed. We would hit the beds. We closed all the shades; I locked the doors and turned the ceiling air onto low. It was still loud, but we were both so tired that it didn’t stop us from drifting off to sleep.

About two hours later, I woke to what sounded like military jets doing low passes over the campground. The roar from their engines overpowered the noisy air conditioner that was right above our beds.

I wanted to go out and see what was going on but didn’t want to wake Zoey. Still, if there were aerial dogfights going on overhead, I wanted to know if we’d been invaded.

I quietly rolled out of bed, grabbed my shoes and headed up front. I put them on, picked up my hat and sunglasses and reached for the door. Before I could open it, Zoey said, "Don’t go sneaking off without me.”

I hadn’t planned to go anywhere other than just a few steps from the RV, but if she was awake and wanted to go out with me, I could live with that.

She pulled on her shoes and ran her fingers through her hair in a vain attempt to corral her bedhead. She saw me smile. “Don’t stand there watching me. It’s creepy. Go on outside. I’ll be there in a minute.”

I’d been called a lot of names by a lot of women, but creepy wasn’t on the list. Now it was, put there by a woman I hardly knew while we were trying to evade the FBI and goons sent by her lookalike movie star cousin.

She could have called me worse. Maybe she would before the day was over.

I was standing outside, watching a tight formation of four jets performing synchronized maneuvers overhead. I had walked to the edge of our campsite, near the road, to get a better view. With my head tilted back and one hand shading my eyes, I could see they all had a blue paint scheme. I’d seen the jets perform before. I knew who they were.

A voice behind me said, “That’s the Blue Angels up there.

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