Beach Reads: Short Stories from Bennett Bay: Stories from Bennett Bay, #0

By Stephen del Mar

Revised and updated Tenth Anniversary Edition. 

A collection of short stories running along the side of Stephen del Mar's Stories from Bennett Bay series.

The Broken Heart

Zach Thorensen came to Big Cypress County to renovate a classic cabin cruiser and enjoy a quiet retired life. But a hurricane and a message from the past waylaid him, giving him a chance to mend his broken heart. Will he take it?

The Demise of Bobby & Clyde

Bobby and Clyde are two young men in love. They are also running from the law in the midst of a hurricane and, unwisely, take refuge in Big Cypress County's most haunted house. Will they escape the law? Will they escape the house?

The Envelope

The economy was bad, like the Great Recession bad, and Tony Gallo's love, Lance, took a contracting job overseas to save the family's home. And IED took Lance from the world. Six months after his death, Tony gets Lance's last letter.

"Slay me," said the dragon.

Drake is a hot, blond college twink. It's his twenty-first birthday and he's ready to put the moves on his roommate, Flint. Unfortunately, they both have secrets and Steam, the leather bar in a rundown section of Bennett Bay isn't what it appears either. Do you know all the ways you can slay a dragon? Some are heartbreaking.

The Three of Us

It's the first week of college for Sam Richards and he's pretty sure he's made some bad choices. Rooming with his straight best friend that he's crushed on for years is at the top of the list. Then he finds Jeff—or maybe Jeff really found him, and then he loses Jeff. There is panic, that bit about actually jumping off of a bridge, and it's not even the weekend yet. Turns out a lot of a college education doesn't happen in the classroom.

A Night on Blood Isle

Storm and Sky are young twin boys on a sailing trip out to the Sweetwater Keys with their adopted family. As the sea fog surrounds them, the older boys tell campfire stories about cursed pirates. What they forget is there is a bit of truth in all legends.

Mondo

Tamás isn't having a good night. His friend is murdered, there's a big noisy bird that needs attending to, and he's having dreams of an attractive naked man that needs his help. But, that's life at the Cathouse—the hippest address in Bennett Bay. 

"Here Kitty," what do you have there?

Sherwood Forrester is a writer, one of those writers that get lost in his writing. One day, he realizes he may have lost other things as well.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bennett Bay Press
• Release date: May 7, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386293477

Book preview

Beach Reads

Stories on the Side: A Collection of Short Stories from Bennett Bay

Stephen del Mar

Introduction: 10 Anniversary Edition

TEN YEARS AGO, OR SO, I wrote three short stories (The Broken Heart, The Demise of Bobby and Clyde, and The Envelope) set in and around a fictional town on Florida’s Gulf Coast. They introduced characters who’d weave their way through the nine books planned in this series. They established the settings of Bennett Bay and Big Cypress County and revealed the themes of love, loss, and family that run through the series. And then the dragons showed up. I left the respectable Southern Literary tradition of ghost and haunted houses for dragons and faeries. Slay me, said the dragon. set up the tongue-in-cheek paranormal underbelly of the series and it took over.

The other stories in this collection aren’t as foundational as the first four but are part of the Bennett Bay world. Each story has a short note describing how it fits into the larger series. It’s been an interesting ten year ride. A lot happened personally and in the world that put my writing on hold, but I’m back along with the witches, dragons and faeries, Oh My.

Stephen del Mar,

Spring 2024.

The Broken Heart

Series Note: The Broken Heart, The Demise of Bobby & Clyde, and The Envelope all take place at the same time and happen about two years before the events in Dark Love, the first book in the Stories from Bennett Bay Series.

WINDSHIELD WIPERS BEAT out a furious rhythm, but Zach still couldn’t see anything past the front of his SUV.

He turned up the radio. It was time for his favorite radio show on the college station. Back in Minnesota, a lifetime ago, he and Rob had sung show tunes around the house when they did housework and cooked.

Techno rhythms faded on the radio. A young deep-voiced male, said, "That was Gazima followed by Korean Voodoo Dancer from the Korean Trance artist Moon5150. Some rare turn-of-the-century trance right here on Trance Town. This is Conquistador Radio 88.5, baby, ten-thousand milliwatts of community radio. The student radio service of Sterling University. I’m Squid and I’m handing it over to... Are you seriously going with that for your new on-air name?"

[DEAD AIR]

What’s wrong with Squid?

[DEAD AIR]

You know your mic’s off right? Okay, sorry about that folks—student radio you know. And... I’m not sure I can say this on air.

[DEAD AIR]

Really? The station manager okayed it?

"Alrighty then, live from Studio C, here’s Flaming Lube—formerly known as The Stewster, sliding in with the news and the Show Tunes Sing-A-Long Hour."

Another male voice, dripping with disdain, said, "Thank’s Mollusk for that intro."

Squid said, "Oh you burned me, you must be flaming!"

Don’t get wet going back to the dorm or, rather, fall in the bay.

Squid scoffed, Dorm? Hell, I’m hunkering down here with the rest of the staff. They’re evacuating my dorm. So what’s up with the hurricane?

Flaming Lube cleared his throat. Hurricane Bess has unexpectedly hooked to the east and the eye of the hurricane is now expected to hit land just north of Bennett Bay. Fortunately, Bess is only a Cat One storm, but expect dangerous winds, flooding, and storm surges. Check out Big Cypress County’s website for warnings and evacuation plans. He paused. The only other local story to note is the Sterling National Bank’s Old Town branch was robbed this afternoon. No word on the amount taken but one guard was killed. The County Sheriffs and the FBI have been called in to assist with the manhunt.

Squid cut in, They robbed a bank during a hurricane?

Maybe they thought it’d help them get away? And if they’re listening to Conquistador 88.5 and wondering what to do with all that extra cash, this is a reminder our pledge drive is coming up next week. And now show tunes you can sing-a-long with.

Wind slapped the truck to the right.

Shit! Zach said and turned the radio off.

Bear woofed.

Don’t need show tunes right now. It’s getting worse! Look the water’s almost to the road.

Bear grumbled, the way newfies did.

Damn!

A dark blur scrambled across the road.

Was that a gator?

Bear growled.

The road curved and he pumped the breaks. Ahead, off to the side, a pair of red lights blinked.

Oh hell. 

An old pick-up truck’s front end hung off the shoulder, dangling near the rising water.

Zach got out of his SUV and pushed through the wind to the truck. Rain forced its way under his plastic poncho. Might as well be naked, he thought. Through the unnatural gloom, he saw someone move. He pounded on the driver’s side window and the window lowered halfway.

Lightning revealed an old woman with a warm dark-brown face and cotton-white hair. She said, Wind blew me off the road. I’m stuck. Can you help?

He pushed back assessing the situation. Another flash of lightning. Ma’am, it doesn’t look good, he said as he stepped back to the pick-up. The river’s rising and I don’t have anything to tow you. I need to get you out of here.

Old brown eyes looked into his. She reached out and touched his face. Her hand warmed his chilled skin. Her eyes held him, searched him. We need to hurry, he thought, but didn’t say anything. Her touch calmed him— held him in place like an anchor. Another flash. Thunder.  She nodded, like she heard him, and tried to open the truck’s door. The wind slapped it shut. He pulled on it and held it as she slid out of the pick-up.

The wind tried to push her down. Zach let go of the door and grabbed her. He kept his arm tight around her waist, almost carrying her back to his SUV. He let her lean against the its body as he attempted to open the passenger-side door. It was big and heavy and the wind kept knocking it out of his hands. He got it open enough to wedge his body into the space, and then pushed against it with his back. Over the wind and thunder, he yelled I’ll help you in.

The woman inched forward. Zach lifted and pushed her up into the seat.  He was ready to let the door blow closed, when she suddenly exclaimed, My supplies!  In the back of the truck. I need them.

Really? He thought. Really?

She reached out and touched him again. Please, Son.

A thought came to him. Relax. Bend like the palm tree in the wind. That which bends will not break.

Zach shook his head. He turned and fought the blowing rain back to the old woman’s truck. It was cold and stinging. Bend like the palm? I’m nuts. I’m a fat old man from Minnesota and I’m dodging alligators and fighting a fucking hurricane all because I wanted to restore an old boat and retire somewhere warm!

Four cement blocks held down a blue tarp in the truck’s bed. The pooling rain pressed it down like shrink-wrap.  He pulled a block off the edge, yanked the tarp back, and then grabbed the half-dozen canvas shopping bags. The wind pushed him back to his SUV, where the rear hatch, somewhat sheltered from the wind, popped up easily.

The back seats were folded down to make room for the dog. He shouldered the dog back as he attempted to lick his face. Bear, move over. Make room.  He put the bags in and pushed the close button. Making his way around the leeward side of the vehicle, he opened the driver’s door and climbed up, took a breath, and then pulled the useless rain poncho over his head and tossed it in the back. His cold wet clothes stuck to him.  Feeling between the front seats, he grabbed an old towel and handed it to the woman. Sorry, ma’am, this is all I have.

The dash lights illuminated her face, a kind face. That’s fine, son. I do appreciate the kindness. By the way, my name is Lissa. Lissa Jackson.  She took the towel and dabbed her face. Somehow, she didn’t seem as wet as him. He took the towel back from her and dried himself as best as he could.

Zach smiled back at her. I’m Zachary Thorensen, but everyone calls me Zach. The horse in the back is Bear.

Bear gave a friendly, Woof.

Did you get your phone? Is there someone we can call about your truck? I’m afraid the river may take it.

My nephew. He’s with the Sheriff’s Department out in Cooter Crossing, but I don’t have one of those cell phones. He’s always after me to get one.

Zach smiled, remembering how his mother didn’t want one either. He pulled his phone out of the cubbyhole in the armrest, unlocked it, and handed it to her. Here you go. Just tap the phone icon and dial the number.

She punched in a phone number and held it to her ear. It’s me son... A man let me use his cell phone... I had a bit of trouble with the truck... Yes, I know there’s a hurricane. I’m out in it boy, and I’ve seen more of them than you have. I needed to go to town... That’s my business. Now I’m going to give you to Zach. I don’t like talking on these things. She handed it to him.

He didn’t expect that. He put the phone on speaker. Hello.

A strong young voice said, This is Deputy Jackson. What happened?

Well, I was driving along County 4, the Clear Springs cutoff, when I saw some taillights off the road. Your aunt is safe now, but the truck will need towing. It’s almost in the water now. The river’s rising pretty fast here.

Jackson sighed. Yes, that road tends to flood. Most of the locals know not to use it during high water.

Lissa said, You know it’s the most direct route back to the house.

But not the safest, Auntie. He paused for a moment. There were voices in the background. Are you okay?

Lissa nodded. Yes, son.

Jackson asked, Sir, would you mind taking her home? I can’t get away right now. There was a bank robbery and we have a manhunt in progress on top of the storm. I’ll put the truck on a tow list, but it may take until morning. We have bridges out and trees down everywhere.

Zach said, I’ll be happy to.

"Thank you. What’s your name?

I’m Zach Thorensen.

Okay. Where is the truck?

Lissa said, About a mile past the turnoff, right by that big ol’ live oak tree Old Man Sanders hit last year.

They heard someone yell, Jackson, Feds are on the line, in the background. He said, Just a moment. Then he said to someone in the room, My aunt had a wreck. Then back to them, Okay, could you give me a call when you get her home?

Zach said, Of course.

Okay, I’ve gotta go. Drive safely.

Zach put the phone back in the armrest. Lissa reached out and placed her hand on his arm. That was very nice of you.

Zach smiled. Well, we Minnesotans tend to be nice. Now we need get you home. Where do you live?

Just on up the road a ways. This side of Clear Springs. You know the town?

Yes, ma’am. 

Zach steered more by feel than anything. Everything was dark gray and blurred like a black and white watercolor painting that had a big glass of water poured on it. The wipers slapped back and forth on high, but only the yellow lines on the road were discernible.  The frequent flashes of lightning helped some. It was slow going, but they were safe. Twice he had to get out to clear branches off the road. He gave up trying to dry himself. He realized each time he got back in the truck that he wasn’t going to get dry and he couldn’t get any wetter.

Lissa hadn’t said much. She just sang and hummed under her breath. Zach couldn’t make anything of it, but it was strangely calming. It had an exotic rhythm, like something spicy from a tropical island. If he couldn’t have warm and dry, he’d take calm.

She stopped her humming and asked, So, do you have folk waiting for you?

He glanced at her. I’m sorry, what?

Do you have anyone waiting for you at home?  She touched his phone in the armrest. You should let them know you’re okay and will be late.

He drove for a moment not saying anything. He didn’t want to be rude. She couldn’t know this was a sore subject. No one. Not anymore. Just me and Bear.

I see, she said. They drove on in silence but for her humming, Bear’s panting, and the wind driving the rain against the truck.

About twenty minutes later, Lissa stopped humming and said, There should be a pink mailbox on your left soon. We’ll need to turn there.

Zach didn’t see the mailbox but the red reflectors did show up in the headlights. He slowed and made a left turn onto a muddy lane. The vehicle splashed and bounced through potholes. The drive veered to the right and the headlights illuminated a cozy pink house made of concrete block with jalousie windows and a carport on the left side. He nugged the SUV into the carport and parked. Relative silence. The rain no longer pounded on the truck. Bear woofed. Zach took out his phone and dialed the last number called. It went to voice mail. This is Zach Thorensen. We just pulled up to your aunt’s house. Everything’s fine.

Zach got out and went around the truck to help Lissa out. Bear woofed again. Wait your turn. Lissa went to unlock the door to the house and he opened the back of the truck. Bear jumped out and ambled into the rain. The newfie had no concept of wet and he had business to take care of. Zach grabbed the bags and watched the woman enter the dark house.

A light switch clicked several times. Oh Lord, the power’s out. You just wait there.

He heard a drawer slide open and its contents rummaged through. A lighter clicked and candlelight filled the room. Zach looked around at a compact kitchen.

You can put those on the table.

Zach said, I’m dripping. I shouldn’t come in.

Don’t be silly, Son. Besides the floor is terrazzo. A good Florida home is built to get wet. Just don’t slip.

He walked to the small kitchen table and put the bags down. Lissa took a saucer out of a cabinet and dripped some wax on it. She placed the candle’s base in the liquid wax then lit another one from the first.

Bear came to the open door and waited. Well, we should be off. Will you be okay?

Oh child, there’s no reason to go back out in that.  She opened a cabinet and pulled out two large towels. Here, you can dry him off with one of these. I’m going to light a few lamps, then fix us some dinner. Good thing the stove is gas.

Bear walked in and Zach closed the door. He knelt down and started rubbing the dog. Now you be good and try not to slobber on everything, okay? We’re guests here.

The dog’s large wet tongue ran over Zach’s face. Slobber hung from his beard. Zach looked down at the towel covered in black fur. Great. He took the other towel and wiped his face. Lissa came back into the kitchen carrying a blanket and a bundle of clothes.

Let’s fix up a place for Bear back in the washroom. Will that be okay, boy?

The dog wagged his tail and woofed. They followed her into the cramped utility room behind the kitchen. She placed the bundle clothes on the top of the washer and spread the blanket on the floor in front of the washer and dryer. She took a small bucket out of a cupboard and filled it with water. Bear lapped some of the water up then flopped down on the blanket. He drooled and was happy.

She said, There’s some of JJ’s things. They may be a bit tight, but at least they’re dry. Just hang your wet things on the drying rack over there.

Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother.

She reached out and touched his face again. Relax and just be. There is no reason to go anywhere. You heard JJ, it isn’t safe.

She started humming again, stepped out of the utility room, and then shut the door. Zach started peeling off his wet clothes.

The kitchen smelled of onion, celery, carrots, and garlic simmering in a big cast-iron skillet. An antique oil lamp sat in the middle of the table and a smaller one was on the windowsill casting light down on the stovetop. The warm glow and the aroma reminded him of his grandparent’s old farmhouse on the Iron Range in northern Minnesota. His grandmother collected antique lamps and loved to fill the house with lamplight on cold winter nights.

Lissa added chicken pieces to the skillet. I’ve made us some tea. The pot’s on the table.

She sprinkled some salt and pepper over the chicken, then placed a clear glass cover on the skillet, and lowered the flame a bit. Well, I had hoped to freeze most of the meat, but it’ll go bad with the power out. She wiped her hands on her apron and looked over at Zach. Oh my. She held her hand up to her face in an attempt to hide a smile.

Zach looked down. The t-shirt didn’t cover his ample belly and the sweat pants were stretched to the limit. Her nephew was obviously not a big man like him. He put his hand on his fuzzy stomach.

I look like Winnie the Pooh.

She said, Well, at least you’re dry and warm. Now sit and have some tea. It’ll be a while before the chicken’s done.

Zach sat down at the table and poured tea into a cup sitting on the table. The steaming liquid was a bright pink. What is this? he asked.

Oh that’s some herbal tea I make. Mostly roses, but I mix in a few other things from the garden. It’ll keep you warm and relaxed. At that moment, another barrage of thunder shook the house. Zach took a sip. It didn’t taste like anything he’d had before, but it wasn’t bad—kind of cinnamon and citrus and it smelled of roses. 

He looked around the room as he sipped his tea. It was an old country kitchen, painted in white with pink highlights. It had an open design with the doors from the cabinets removed so you could see all of the contents. Most of them were stacked with china of various colors and styles. One had a lot of herbs and spices. An iron rack hung on the wall next to the stove where skillets and pans hung. Zach liked this kitchen. He liked cooking and this was setup to do some serious home-style cooking. The refrigerator was an old pink model from the 1950s. He stood and walked over to it, taking his cup with him. He took another sip. The tea was addictive.

Magnets held a large photo of a young black man on the fridge. He was very handsome in his sheriff’s uniform. Zach leaned closer. He saw the boy had the same warm, brown eyes as Lissa. Is this your nephew?

She smiled. Yes. My pride and joy. Raised him since he was twelve. When he was a baby, his daddy, my little brother, died fighting in the desert for no good reason. Then his mother got the cancer. That boy’s had it hard and turned out better than he should have.

She took a sip of her tea. I just wish he had better taste.

Zach went back and sat down at the table. What do you mean?

Well, I know it is none of my business. He’s a grown man now, but he’s been cavorting with a no-account DeWitt boy from Blackwater.

Zach put his tea down. Cavorting? You mean dating? You don’t approve of him dating a man?

She looked into Zach’s eyes. Oh, I don’t care if he’s a man. I don’t approve of him because he’s a DeWitt. Nothing wrong with a man loving another man. Love is love. But you got to love the right one. And that man is going to break my boy’s heart. I just know it.

Zach took a sip of tea. Isn’t that part of growing up? Our hearts get broken? And then we move on.

She looked at him over her teacup. So moving on is easy, then?

Suddenly, he didn’t think they were talking about her nephew’s choice in boyfriends. She seemed to know too much about him. Like she could gaze right into his heart.

He felt a warm hand on his arm. Would you mind tending the fire in the living room? I need to look after dinner.

Zack nodded, refilled his cup and walked into the other room.

Dinner was over. Lissa and Zach sat in the living room sipping tea and watching the embers glow in the fireplace. Bear lay on the rug in front of the fire fast asleep. The storm continued outside. Zach sat on the couch and Lissa moved back and forth in a wicker rocker, singing softy. The tea, a good meal, and quiet company were working magic to relax him. He felt floaty. But the silence began to weigh on him. He didn’t want to be rude. Should I say something?

Lissa looked at him over her teacup. So, where are you from again?

He smiled. People around here were always asking him where he was from or what church he went to. Generally, he didn’t want to talk about his past or other people’s superstitions. But Lissa was different somehow...safe. Came down from up north, way up north. Duluth, Minnesota.

Why?

He shifted and put his cup on the end table. Oh, the normal reasons I guess. Time to retire. Was tired of the snow and cold. Just needed a change.

She sipped more tea. Why Clear Springs?  Most folk don’t know it unless they’re from here. Don’t even think we’re on the map.

Zach laughed. You’re not, had a hell of a time trying to find it. I was looking for a specific make of yacht, a Cypress-Craft cabin cruiser. My uncle had one. We’d cruise Lake Superior during the summer. There is a great cove by Split Rock Lighthouse that actually gets warm enough to swim in.

He took a sip of tea and smiled to himself as he remembered jumping into the cold water with his cousins.  He said, It was fun to wake up in the morning and dive into the icy water. I loved that boat. I dreamed about living on it all the time. Retirement time came and I wanted to make that happen. Unfortunately, he sold his boat years ago. They built them down here in Bennett Bay, but the company went bust in the ‘70s. They’re quite rare now.

She nodded. But you found one?

"Yeah. A guy whose father worked in the factory years ago had one in a barn here in Clear Springs. Needed a lot of work. It wasn’t finished, so I bought it. The guy let me park my camper next to the barn and I’ve been working on it. Pretty much done. I was going to launch it and take it down river to town and have the final work