Read Online Off Season by Philip R. Craig - Free Book Online Page A

garden. Nash was carrying an empty basket. He had seen my truck out front, so he was not as surprised at seeing me as I was at seeing him.
    â€œYou have your bulletproof vest on today, Nash?”
    â€œNow, J.W., you know me. Never one to hold a grudge. I just came by to get some of Mimi’s good, green vegetables.”
    Mimi gave him a sharp look, but nodded. “I can use his money to pay you, J.W.”
    Nash gave me a large wink, and followed her. I stood up and stomped around to get the blood circulating in my legs, and wondered why Nash hadn’t just gone to the A & P for his veggies.
    The answer was not long in coming. I heard a shout of rage from Mimi, and looked up to see Nash, laughing, come running from the garden, his basket shedding brussels sprouts and greens. As he ran, his long legs striding high, he was tossing money over his shoulder, dollar bills that swirled in his wake like fall leaves behind a speeding car.
    I looked at Mimi. She had her skirts bunched up with one hand and a garden rake in the other, and she was running after Nash, red-faced and furious. But her short legs were no match for his long ones, and she was losing ground with every stride.
    â€œYah hoo!” shouted Nash, and then he was gone around the corner of the house. Before Mimi even got to me, I heard his truck’s engine roar into life, followed by the squeal of tires as he floorboarded it out of the yard.
    Mimi steamed to a halt beside me.
    â€œThat son of a bitch!” she cried, panting. “Did you hear what he said?”
    â€œNo. Calm down, now. He’s gone.”
    â€œAfter he got his basket full, he told me—oh, the nerve!—that he wanted my vegetables because they were the very best on the island . . .”
    â€œWhat’s wrong with that?”
    â€œBecause he’s gonna use ‘em to fatten up his rabbits, that’s what! He wanted me to know that I was really helping him out and that from now on every time he kills a rabbit for supper, he’ll include me in the blessing! That low-life creep! Can you imagine the nerve?” She threw the rake down so hard it bounced.
    I looked down at the rake, and didn’t say anything.
    â€œAnd don’t look like that! Don’t you dare laugh! Don’t you dare!” She kicked at the rake and ran around the corner of the house. She seemed to be crying.
    I walked back toward the garden and picked up the dollar bills that lay scattered beside the path. There were quite a few of them. Nash had paid well for his joke, I thought.
    I took the money to the front of the house, but Mimi wasn’t in sight. Inside, probably. I put the money in my shirt pocket and went back to work on the steps.
    I am not the finish carpenter that Manny Fonseca is, but I do all right as long as things don’t get more subtle than two by fours, so when the steps were finished, they were fine. I walked up and down them a few times, just to be sure, then put my tools back into the truck, cleaned up the site and knocked on the back door.
    Mimi, still a little red in the eyes, answered it, and I gave her the money. She thrust it back at me.
    â€œI don’t want to touch it. It’s yours. Oh, that man! I am going to get him! You just wait and see!”
    â€œNow, Mimi . . .”
    â€œDon’t you ‘now, Mimi’ me, you cannibal! You’re as bad as he is.”
    â€œNow, Mimi . . .”
    â€œYou want a cup of tea before you go?”
    â€œYou bet.”
    We went inside. Mimi already had a pot of tea going. Something made out of the leaves of the herbs in her garden. It was good. Not too bland, not too zingy. She pushed some cookies at me. I touched my shirt pocket. “This is really too much money for the work I did.”
    â€œKeep it! I won’t touch it! I saw Angie in church. She said she saw you this morning. She said you had woman problems. Do you?”
    â€œWell, thanks for the