Shipwrecked--Part Three

“Where am I?” Jack asked as they rolled through ton, passing tiny houses with perfect lawns and pastel colored cars.


“Baltimore, Maryland” Crybaby answered. “This is the hoity toity neighborhood here the squares live. Where do you need to go?”

“I crashed my ship and I need some wood for repairs,” he answered watching a group of kids spill out of an elementary school, laughing and skipping down the sidewalk.

“Okay, I’ll take you to see my uncle Belvedere. He’s a real swell guy, really knows how to fix stuff. Why he always fixes the cars that my grandma hustles,” Crybaby said.

Jack’s face softened, “Are you a pirate too?”

“Nah, I sing. But my buddies are into that, stealing and stuff.”

“Oh,” Jack said with a frown.

“Here we are. Turkey Point.”

A wide stretch of patchy dirt and grass banked around a small lake. There were dozens of cars parked in the gravel parking lot, dust covering the wheel wells and dirt on the rims.

Crybaby rolled on through, past a wide pavilion with young kids dancing on a small stage. Jack cringed at the music and grimaced with every long burst of saxophone.

They continued on through the park, passing ratty houses and tiny trailers. Crybaby slowed to a stop in front of an old sagging wooden house. The siding was rusted and the foundation crumbled in one corner. There were scratchy bushes and shrubs in what passed for a front yard, and miscellaneous tires, toys, and tacky garbage.

Jack wrinkled his nose at his surroundings, slowly climbing off the motorcycle. Crybaby marched on over to the front door and banged his fist on it, the flimsy screen door rapped against the wooden frame. An older woman in tan overalls, knee-high boots, and wild black hair burst outside. She fixed the duck shaped hat that squashed her hair down, as she stepped from the house.

“Who the…Crybaby! Boy where have you been? You’re worrying your grandma to death over here, being gone all the time,” she said, coming over.

“Sorry grandma. Uncle Belvedere around?”

“Yeah out back working on a truck,” she said. She chomped on her gum and smiled wildly through ruby red lips. “Uh, Crybaby? Who’s your friend?” she said, stopping him.

Crybaby beckoned over Jack who cautiously approached, gingerly stepping over the junk in the yard.

“This here’s Jack. I found him on the side of the road,” Crybaby joked.

Grandma came closer to Jack and peered up at him, her mouth in a wide open, toothy grin.

Jack wrinkled his nose, for once appalled by someone else’s breath besides his own.

“Pleasure,” Jack said, awkwardly sticking his hand in her face for a handshake.

She took a step back and shook his hand. “Good to meet you Jack. What were you doing on the side of the road?”

“Narrowly escaping an attack from a ferocious cat,” Jack said seriously.

Crybaby laughed, “A cat? Look who’s a sissy now?”

“Big kitty,” Jack said outstretching his arms in estimate of the animal’s size. “You have no idea.”

“C’mon Jack. Let’s go find you some lumber,” Crybaby said.

Jack dropped his arms and followed, muttering curse words to himself.

They went around to the back of the house, winding through a yard full of old cars, pieces of wood, and miscellaneous tools. A loud drilling was going on in a rusted old shed. Crybaby rapped on the door, and the drilling stopped.

“I’m coming!” A southern voice hollered at them from within. The door swung open and a tall thin man in a blue mechanic’s uniform stood before them. His face and hands were covered in black grease, and his stained red cap sagged to one side of his head.

“Uncle Belvedere, this is my pal Jack. He’s looking for some lumber,” Crybaby said, patting Jack on his shoulder.

“What kind of lumber? Uncle Belvedere asked looking from Jack to Crybaby.

Jack began his business voice, “My ship, the Black Pearl, crashed into some rocks and now I’ve got a rather large hole in the side.”

“Oh you want wood for a boat?”

“Ship,” Jack corrected.

Uncle Belvedere rubbed the back of his neck. I’m gonna have to order some. We don’t carry as much anymore, and I’m assuming you’ll need quite a bit. Might be a few days.”

“What? I haven’t the time to order some,” Jack complained.

“Well you can go into town and get the wood there but they’ll charge you an arm and 2 legs for it. You don’t strike me as the kind of guy to be into hobbling around with one arm for the rest of your life,” Uncle Belvedere said, folding his arms across his chest.

Jack huffed, “I need eight, two by four planks. Also the bolts and screws to fasten it all into place. How much are we talking here?”

Uncle Belvedere’s expression changed as he punched some numbers in his head. “I can give it all to you for 300 bucks.”

“What?! I don’t have that kind of money, I….” Jack looked in his coin purse, jingling around the few sad coins he kept for emergencies. Jack looked up ruefully and said, “I spent it all on rum.”

Crybaby lifted one corner of his mouth and shrugged, “I guess you’ll just have to get a job then Jack. C’mon Jack, I’ll show you around town.”

Jack sighed, zipped up his coin purse and trudged behind Crybaby to explore the wide world of employment.