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Show 63, Jeffries, Islamorada [Section 2] coast under the noon sun. "I'm going to be twenty-three! Dorian are you even, have you heard a word I've--" "Diamond, it's not my fault time passes. . ." "Yes it is!" "Wax up that rocket-car!" The Old-Timer was crowing and waving and coming at him across a row of sapodillas. Dory threw the rag into the sawgrass, at this hour of the morning there was no way to keep the car out of the sun, another half-finished job. "Well you can always go inside and grade some papers." "Nuts to that. It's Saturday. I'm gonna drive this Chevrolet down to Key West and kill some time." Foolish old man in coveralls. Rossmore was making a rocking motion, a pumping motion, and he pointed out at the highway. "Once I made that trip-on a handcar," he said. "Look, would you take me with you?" His arm swung northeast, and he bargained, "We'll circle the islands in your club car, here, and there's things as I'll tell you. . ." An hour later, two small figures stood at the edge of Sexton Cove, looking up at the bottom of peninsular Florida. |