Some Sailors Never Die by EA Comiskey - Book Tour + Giveaway
Excerpt
Richard never made it to the
sports bar. Halfway there, he bumped into Ed and Annie Santos.
“You should come play
shuffleboard with us!” Annie exclaimed.
He stuffed his hands in his
pockets. “Nah. Thanks, though. I don’t want to intrude.”
“Heh, heh, heh,” a chuckle
rumbled up and out of Ed’s barrel chest. “Ain’t no game going on there. Buncha
old farts sitting around the edges of the painted lines killing what’s left of
their livers and healthy skin cells.”
When you put it that way, it
sounded better than sitting alone in a dark bar. He agreed with a shrug. Annie
clapped her hands in delight and led them along, chattering like a tour guide.
Ed studied him while they walked.
“What?” Richard asked. Being
stared at was downright irritating.
“Why you always so grumpy?” Ed
asked.
“What?”
“You look like you swallowed a
sour pickle you forgot to chew. Why you so grumpy?”
Richard harrumphed. Who did the
big galoot think he was, getting into his personal business? “I ain’t grumpy.
Just don’t go around all day grinning like an idiot.”
Ed walked in long, loping steps
with his hands in his pockets. “You oughta smoke a joint. It’d calm you down.”
Richard’s blood pressure shot up.
“I don’t need drugs to calm down!”
A group of fat old women in
flower print bathing suits with matching skirts shot alarmed glances in their
direction and made a wide berth around them.
“Think maybe you do,” Ed replied
in his slow drawl. “You’re wound so tight your mainspring’s gonna pop. A hit on
a doobie’d do you good. Might save you from an ulcer.”
The exceptionally large breakfast
churned uncomfortably in Richard’s stomach. “You don’t know nothing about my
guts. Ain’t right to go assuming things about a man. All kinds of things about
me you don’t know. I’m fit as a fiddle and finer than frog’s hair, thank you
very much.”
Ed bellowed with laughter. “I
like you, man. Gotta get you a golden ticket.”
Richard stomped along and
wondered how big the freaking ship could be. How much farther were they going
to walk? Where was this stupid shuffleboard court and why was he headed there
with these weirdos anyway?
The big man kept talking, even
though no one had asked him to. “You see, I met a guy once. Told me about an
alien planet with purple clouds. Said that’s the real Heaven. Ain’t some
mystical dimension, just another planet on the other side of another galaxy.”
This observation provoked another round of rumbling chuckles. “Turns out,
according to this guy, we weren’t created by an old white dude with a long
beard, but a little green man from outer space.” He shrugged his wide, sloped
shoulders as if to say, who am I to question? “Little green man promised he’d
come back some day after we crawled up out of the muck and learned how to bang
two rocks together to make a fire. He’s gonna fly us away to his purple-cloud
planet, but not all of us. Just the ones smart enough to know what’s up. Gotta
have a ticket.”
Richard pressed his lips together
and refrained from comment. The man was obviously nutty as a squirrel turd.
“So, the guy asked me if I wanted
a golden ticket. I told him I surely did.” With a bit of grunting and huffing Ed
dug a battered brown wallet from the pocket of his ill-fitting short pants and
produced from it a yellow piece of paper with the words: This Golden Ticket
Implies Belief In The Great Supreme Ones And Their Ultimate Master Plan And
Entitles The Carrier To One Free Ride Aboard A Starship To The Planet Of Purple
Clouds And Pleasure. (No refunds, exchanges, or round-trip accommodations
provided.)
Richard read it and passed it
back. All by themselves, his eyes rolled. He couldn’t have stopped them if his
life had depended on it.
Of course, Ed chuckled at his
reaction. “It’s a load of crap, obviously. The guy who gave it to me was
crazier than an outhouse rat.” He tucked the ticket back into his wallet and
stuffed the whole thing into his pocket again. “Still, I don’t wanna take any
chances. I figure I’ll carry it with me. Just in case.”
“I just remembered. I’m supposed
to find Burke,” Richard lied.
Annie pointed ahead. “She’s right
there, dear.”
Burke caught his eye and gave a
little wave. She stood near the railing with her phone clutched in her hand.
“We’re going to get drunk next to
the shuffleboard court,” Annie told her once they’d gotten close enough to
speak without shouting.
Richard expected a comment about
healthy living, but Burke only nodded. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all
day.”
“That ain’t saying much,” Ed
said. “It ain’t even noon yet.”
“It’s five o’clock somewhere,”
Burke replied.
Ed gestured toward Burke and told
Richard, “I like her, too.”
Richard wondered how he’d ended
up on a boat surrounded by crazy people.
Two shuffleboard courts were
painted onto the wooden deck near the bow of the ship. No one played on either,
but a dozen or so old folks reclined in the cushioned chairs. Several of them
sipped drinks that held umbrellas, swords, or long colorful sticks. One fat man
with a thick mat of wiry white hair bristling from his chest snored peacefully.
Annie suggested they sit at one of the glass-topped tables. The moment their
backsides touched the thick-cushioned, high-backed chairs, Luca and Ike popped
up out of thin air, side-by-side, grinning at them like two sharks that had
jumped out of the water and landed on the ship by happy accident.
“Good morning! It is a beautiful
day, no? We have wonderful treats for you!” Luca clapped his bony hands in
front of his thin chest.
“Are we having a fabulous time?”
Ike asked.
“Oh, we are, yes,” Annie said,
pressing one hand across her heart.
“Where’s Mr. Kapcheck this morning?”
Ed chuckled.
“He’s resting in his room,” Burke
said. “I’m sure he’ll be out later.”
“May I bring you something to
drink?” Luca bounced on his toes as if on the verge of bursting from hopeful
expectation. No one had ever wanted to fetch drinks as badly as this young man
wanted to fetch drinks. He was the golden retriever of the high seas.
“I’ll have a mimosa, dear,” Annie
said.
“Excellent choice,” Luca replied.
Burke ordered a Bloody Mary. Ed
asked for scotch and soda.
Breakfast gurgled with all the
clatter of a backed-up sump pump in Richard’s gut. The last thing he needed was
hard liquor. “Can I get a glass of soda water with ice?”
Luca spread his long, lanky arms
wide. “Of course!”
“Really living the high life, eh,
Dick?” Ed jabbed him in the ribs with an elbow as pointy as a porcupine pecker.
Richard would have made a very
snappy retort, but Ike interrupted.
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