eleven

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There's a moment in every kid's life when you feel like anything's possible. When you feel like you've got the total mojo. You could, I don't know, free-climb El Capitan, land on Mars, or, uh... get elected president. The whole world's there for the taking if you've got the sack to go for it. And then, when you least expect it, some Kook shows up and tells you there's no eternal mystery. And then all that talk about free-climbing and Mars and the president... bullshit. Magic gets cancer and dies.

Right now is one of those moments.

What looked like the answer to all of our prayers is just the bare bones of the Royal Merchant. There isn't any gold. There is barely anything at all.

John B sighs. "It's not there. Look, just... just pull the drone up." Thunder keeps rumbling. "Shit."

"Look, we can do another pass. recharge the battery. We can... we can go back down," Pope offers.

"We've done it three times. There's nothing there," JJ says.

I yell at him, "Shut up!

"What? It's true!" JJ shouts back.

"The gold could be buried. We don't know," I offer.

"If it was there, it would've been found on the metal detector, okay? Somebody beat us to it," John B states.

JJ mutters under his breath, "Or it was never there."

I head home in need of a shower and a nap. I wake up as Sarah shakes me.

"I need your help," Sarah tells me.

"With what?" I ask.

"Just come on," Sarah says.

I follow her into Dad's office. John B is sitting on the couch. I turn to Sarah. "I can take care of it from here."

Sarah nods. "I figured it best you handle John B." She hands me some first aid stuff before leaving.

"What did you do, JB?" I ask.

"I was trying to get away from Cheryl and I kind of stole a bike and then crashed it," John B explains.

I laugh as I shake my head. "At least you didn't rob a bank. You didn't rob a bank right?" John B gives me a look. "Just making sure." I look down at his shirt and see blood. "You really did a number on yourself." John B smiles slightly. "Lift up your shirt."

"Okay." John B does as I say.

"That's gotta be disinfected." I put some rubbing alcohol on a gauze pad.

"Wait, is that rubbing alcohol?" John B asks.

"Yes. It's the only way to be safe. Okay, close your eyes. On the count of three." John B sighs. "Ready? One, two..."

"Two..." John B repeats.

I put the rubbing alcohol on the cut and he screams. I cover his mouth with my hand. "Shh! Are you kidding me? My God."

"Sorry," John B says.

"Never heard anyone whine like that before." I clean off the cut.

John B groans. "Stop." He hits my hand.

I look at him. "Excuse you."

"Sorry. Sorry," John B says.

I keep cleaning the cut. "I'll make you sorry."

"Who, uh... who's the dude on the wall?" John B asks.

"Oh, it's Denmark Tanny, founder of Tannyhill," I explain.

John B exhales. "Founder?"

I nod my head. "Mm-hm."

"So, how did a slave found a cotton plantation?" John B asks.

smooth seas//john bWhere stories live. Discover now