Oblivion

By MJ Donovan

Lisa has had a tough start in life. But all that changed when she found an ocean full of dead bodies and cash.
Now she’s been kidnapped and reunited with her estranged family, which she hasn’t seen since she was about five years old.

• Language: English
• Publisher: MJ Donovan
• Release date: Jul 11, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005697129

MJ Donovan

I was a nurse for many years and have travelled solo around Australia in ‘Bob’, my VW campervan for a couple of years while trying to cope with total burn out. On that journey I was shown a different side to the lucky country where women, some with children, a lot in their 50’s and over, who for a multitude of reasons, were living in cars, tents, and vans because they were unable to find affordable housing when working or couldn’t pay their utilities and rent on Newstart. Interestingly our bipartisan leaders had increased the retirement age for women and somehow this ignited a huge surge in the homelessness of this group. No wage parity, most had been stay at home mums, no or very little superannuation. Something to think about.I’m currently living in a small seaside community north of Brisbane. Formally from Perth and originally New Zealand. I write articles occasionally that have been published in the Island and Surrounds, a local community paper. I love poetry and frequent a zany Spoken Word monthly event that has very talented artists.I’m not sure where ‘There’s a Storm Brewing’ came from but I think it’s an interesting short story.

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1 Beach Walk to Oblivion

The Bungalow

The Fishing Shack

The Catamaran

Mainsails to Morocco

Chapter 2 Boat ride to Oblivion

The Shop

The Dinner

The Boat

The Wife

Chapter 3 Bush Walk to Oblivion

The Market Place

Second Time Around

Meknes

The Husband

Chapter 4 The Final Oblivion

The Graveside

The Mother

Shark Attack

The End?

Epilogue

Chapter 5 Bishop to Oblivion

The Rescue

Return to Chatstone

The Bishop

Porters Demise

Chapter 1

BEACH WALK TO OBLIVION

The Bungalow

Bang bang bang bang

Lisa awoke to the sound of persistent pounding on her front door.

Sheriff ’s department, open up Mrs. Cole.

Lisa sat up, blinking at the strong light pouring through her bungalow window. She could taste the sea on the light breeze, teasing her tongue which appeared to be stuck to the roof of her mouth.

Her fair hair was sticking up in all directions and her pale blue eyes were more than slightly bloodshot from an overindulgence in a good bottle (or two) of Chardonnay.

What the hell’s going on? She groggily tried to sit up, knocking the remains of the glass onto the hardwood floor.  I must’ve fallen asleep on the couch. What time is it?  Why is my head so sore? She lurched unsteadily to her feet and padded over to the foyer. She made it to the front door while trying to pat down her hair and straighten her clothes.   Raising her hand to her mouth, she felt the drool that had dried in the corner and the matted hair stuck fast to it. Oh gross. Licking her fingers, she tried to wipe it off while the banging on her front door set off a splitting crescendo in her head.

I'm coming, she moaned.  Give me a gosh -da rn minute.

She saw Sheriff Hawkins lounging on the porch swing when she finally opened up.  He was six foot two in his uniform and boots, an object of sheer masculinity, with dark black hair, and slate grey eyes that looked as stormy as the sea .

There were rumours that the new Sheriff had an ice habit and was being paid by the Cartel, as well as the County, whatever, he was very easy on the eye.  It was no wonder she felt a tingle somewhere south of the border.  He'd been the Sheriff for a few years now, taking over from her dad, Sheriff Russ Jones. Her old man had passed away at his fishing shack in the local national park.

No one knew that Russ was her biological father.  They hadn’t got to know each other very well in the short time they’d been re-united before his heart gave out. She was devastated by the loss but at least she still had her half brother in her life.  

Why Sheriff?  What's so bloody important that you feel the need to shatter my peace and quiet? Lisa grumbled, trying to get her tongue to work.

Shawn Hawkins liked living in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.  Especially in the winter months when the town returned to its smaller population.  The tourist industry was a financial boom to the community, especially in his line of work,  but made for a busy life.  He looked at Lisa's ruffled appearance complete with bed hair and smiled.

Well Ma'am,   I'm truly sorry to have woken you,  he said looking at his watch and noting it was past three in the afternoon. The stench of alcohol was oozing from her pores.

But we got an anonymous call from a low-life informer.  He seems to think that a certain drug cartel is  gonna send out an enforcer to take back what they believe is theirs, and, unfortunately, they have your details and location.  He couldn't stop himself staring with disgust at the silver trail of dried drool in the corner of her mouth that had travelled down her chin,  and onto the collar of her yellow sweatshirt.

Lisa was aware she didn’t look her best, but did he need to look down on her?  Who the hell did he think he was?  With one hand on her hip, standing tall, she pointed  at Sheriff Hawkins. Look, I handed that money over to the authorities, to your department in fact,  and no one claimed it, so now it's mine. Fair and square.

I ’m not disputing that, he drawled, but we need to take this threat seriously. He had turned his back to Lisa trying to keep the smirk off his face.  I need you to pack a bag and come with me to a safe house until we can figure out if this threat is real.  Our informant, unfortunately,  is usually accurate.   And until that time, you need to be protected.

You can stop laughing at me for a start.  How can this be happening?   I did what you and Deputy Carson said and handed the money in.  How did a drug cartel get my information?  How do they know who I am?  She felt like stamping her foot but managed to control herself and smiled instead.   ‘And who is going to protect you from me?’ She thought slyly, feeling that tingle again down low.

Well Ma'am, we're not sure at this stage, I guess the investigation will sort that out.  I'm gonna take you to an out of the way place  at Waccamaw National Wildlife Refuge.  It’s a peaceful spot just off the highway, no one will think to search for you there.

Oh,   OK, said Lisa.  Come on in and take a load off while I  pack a bag.  Turning, she stalked through the house to her en-suite, washing her face in cool water, then spayed some peppermint mouth wash on her tongue.  Looking in the mirror was a shock, it was no wonder the Sheriff had looked at her with such distaste.  Dark bags were under her eyes, her hair was a mess and there was slobber on her neck and sweatshirt. She quickly scrubbed and groomed herself into a semblance of order. How long do you think this is gonna last?" she called out.

Sheriff Hawkins was now lingering in the front room of the bungalow having checked out the rest of the house to make sure Lisa was alone. It was minimally furnished with touches of brightly coloured artwork on the walls, but with dead flowers in a vase  and dust on every surface.  He also noticed a wine glass had been knocked to the floor and the remnants of a  bottle of Chardonnay stood on the side table.  She was obviously a bit slack in the housekeeping department.  The place was a pigsty especially the kitchen, with take out boxes on the counters and dried up pizza in the fridge.

I'm hoping no more than a week or two,  Ma'am,   but I can't guarantee anything. I see you've been celebrating,  I hope you haven't spent all your new wealth at the liquor store?

Lisa stomped out of the bedroom and glared at the Sheriff. It would be difficult spending half a mil on Chardonnay but the way my head feels, I wouldn't be at all surprised. My God, she thought, how life changes so swiftly.   Six months ago, she was mourning the death of her dad,  working a dead-end job as a waitress at the Lakes Country Club in this small coastal town,  renting a pretty bungalow by the beach.  After a particularly long and tedious shift fending off drunk golfers and her horny married boss,  feeling low, maybe even a little depressed,  she took a long walk on the foreshore. The sand felt soft and damp between her toes, her swollen ankles luxuriating in the cool of the water, as she gazed in wonder at the sight of the full yellow harvest moon. 

The reason she continued working at the club was because the tips were great and her ex-husband was never gonna find his wallet to pay the alimony agreed upon at the dissolution of their so called marriage. Not that she was bitter.  Well, not much.  Daryl Cole and her ex-best girlfriend, Priscilla,  deserved a   long, STD filled life together. That would teach him for dumping her for a scrawny pole dancer.  The Ass-hole!

She was not sure why she found herself waist deep in the ocean but feeling blue and self medicating with cheap wine could lead to some odd behaviours, she supposed.  When something bumped her leg, she screamed and came out of her funk.  Lisa thought she was about to become the main meal for the local ‘ Jaws'   until she realised it was a heavy black plastic bag bumping against her leg. Oh great, she thought, some yachters have dumped their rubbish overboard.   How bloody typical. 

As another large wave hit her, she saw more plastic bags and inhaled a lung-full of diesel-tainted seawater as the tide came in.   An orange lifebuoy floated past, with what had once been a human-being melted to the burnt disc. It looked like the torn blackened stumps had been feasted upon by ocean predators. Whoever it was, had been burned beyond recognition. Oh my God, she thought, there's been a boating accident!

Lisa started to yell and wave her arms to draw attention, trying to get some help, when it suddenly dawned on her that most boating incidents off this coast were related to drug running mishaps.  These usually involved angry men with big guns, who were greedy and ruthless.  

Quickly scanning the ocean for any activity, Lisa grabbed as many of the large black bags as she could and sank down in the cold Atlantic water, trying to make herself as small as possible. After an agonising wait to see if anyone had responded to her yelling, she slowly made her way back to shore.  The bags were heavy so she floated them down to the pier and pushed them up onto the sand. It took her a couple of trips to get all the bags she could find.

She knew there would be some shopping carts over the road.  People used them to ferry their groceries home from the Shopping Complex all the time, and then abandoned them along the board-walk. Sure enough, she managed to grab one and pushed it back along the wooden boards towards the pier.  The wheels kept jamming in the gaps between the boards and she found in easier to drag the cart behind her.

She had a feeling that whatever was in those bags was going to change her life.  Her muscles were well defined from the daily workout of bringing cartons of beer and wine up from the cellar at the club, but it took all her strength to heft the sacks into the trolley and as quickly as she could,  wheel them back to the bungalow. Passing an empty shop front, she laughed as she caught her reflection in the window. She looked like a half drowned derelict bag lady. It was fortunate this was the off season and she met no obvious witnesses as she wheeled her bounty home.

Opening the bags was like a lotto dream come true.  She had never seen so much money. She counted and recounted the stacks of hundred dollar bills. Woohoo, she squealed in delight, ‘ I ’ve got five million buckeroos!"   

There were plastic wrapped piles littering the sofa, waiting to be wiped down and blow-dried.   All of a sudden she did a Scrooge McDuck and dived onto the slightly damp money, rolling around in it, until some of the plastic wrap came apart and hundred dollar bills stuck to her body. Laughing like a maniac, she shouted I'm rich, I'm rich.

Then Lisa remembered the debris and lifebuoy in the ocean and wondered how many had died for this drug money.   It was frightening.  What was she going to do?  After some thought and a perfect cup of Earl Grey to calm her soul Lisa decided she should hand in some of the money, just in case someone had seen her wheeling it home. They’d never know she had more and the Cartel would have to conclude that the rest had sunk to the depths along their yacht and crew. Who could she ask for help?  There was always Colin, she supposed, he was   the Deputy Sheriff and would know what to do and besides, they had a history together. 

Thinking of him brought back some very pleasant memories. She remembered how fabulous he looked in his county uniform.  He was average height, about 5'9’ with fair hair, sexy green eyes and had been so kind to her in her hysterical state, when she’d keyed her ex-husband’ s car.    He'd even dissuaded Daryl  from pressing charges, something to do with outstanding alimony. He was the sweetest young man she'd ever met and she was sure that as he'd developed a crush on her, she could manipulate him as needed. 

They'd spent some time together, usually when he was on the night shift.  He would call in to make sure she was doing all-right. One night after a few wines, things had gotten hot and heavy and their relationship became more intimate.  However, she thought,  I ’d better stop thinking about that or northing’s gonna get accomplished, she giggled.

Having decided on this plan of action, she hid most of the money behind her wardrobe until she could stash it in an off shore account. Phoning Colin on his mobile she excitedly told him of her find washed up on the beach.

Deputy Carson came over straight away after she called, wanting to know exactly where the money had washed up.   He then persuaded Lisa to hand the money over to the authorities for safe keeping until they could decide who it legally belonged to, advising her that if the money was not claimed, usually within three months,  it would be returned to the finder.

That was me!  And here I was, six months later, filthy rich but now having to go into hiding with the