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No reprisals? Recriminations?

Did he get his phone back?  Where’s Mara?


For a story that moved as slowly as a Leatherback on land, we finally reached the end.  I think.  This has to be uncomfortable space for our writer… What’s our next move?  I can hardly stand the suspense…

5 thoughts on “No reprisals? Recriminations?

  1. Based upon the rickety look of the support poles, the Trails should exit that beachside cabana very quickly. One bump from the turtle and the whole thing collapses.

    While Rusty may never get his phone back, he will always have adolescent memories of spending time with a girl way, way out of his pre-rookie league.

  2. So that’s it? Rusty’s big date with Mara ends up just a fading memory of a sweaty bus ride, hide and seek in the back alleys of some Mexican backwater town, and an inconclusive Go Fish game?

    And what happens to Professor Carter and his comely research assistant? Or to the stolen artifacts?

    Dare I bring up how Dirty might fit into all this, since we apparently began with his flight from Africa to the mean streets of Miami? Or is that just another loose end hanging limply in the humid air of a tropical evening?

    Frustrating is not the word for this . . . .

  3. And note that Allen has quickly passed over Mark’s explanation. It must have gone something like this (and explains why Mara isn’t around):

    “Well, honey, I was suspicious right from the start of Carter’s assistant, so I had Rusty and Mara follow her, thinking she would never suspect the kids. I knew that Jose, the van driver, was actually an undercover cop, too. So when I heard that the assistant handed the stolen artifacts to a man with a backpack, I came up with the idea to use Rusty’s phone as a tracker, so Mara could follow the crooks with her phone. When things were set, Dr. Carter and I drove in, along with more police. Rusty and Mara followed the crooks to their hideout and bravely faced them down, until I showed up and took care of the crooks. Isn’t that right, Rusty?
    (Rusty nods several times)

    “What’s that, dear? Of course I kept in contact with the kids, all the way! Right, Rusty? (Rusty nods again) It’s not like Dr. Carter and I just sat around his hut shooting the breeze! I was on top of the situation all the way! Which reminds me, what did YOU do today, Cherry? Say, I notice that your hair is mussed and your bright red lipstick is smudged. Did you run into a door again? What’s that, Cherry…the Pool Guy accidentally backed into you? Gee, that was some adventure, I bet!

    “Anyway…that’s right, Cherry, Rusty ended up leading the cops to the bad guy’s hideout!”

  4. Meanwhile, at Mara’s cabana…Dad got a different story:

    “Mara, you mean to tell me that this Mark Trail guy let you and that squirt kid of his go off—ON YOUR OWN—in the jungle, in a van driven by some creepy bald-headed guy? He didn’t touch you, did he? So you and the boy thought you’d play detectives and follow some criminals into a village who-knows-where, filled with who-knows-who, where you were chased and nearly abducted? Then you played cards with some motorcycle outlaw dude who said he was a cop?! He didn’t touch you, did he?

    “Honey, I’m going over there and pound Trail’s face into the sand, then we’re gonna sue him. Oh, what’s that, sweetie? No, the red marks on my face are probably…er…some blood splatter from getting too close to the butcher I watched earlier today when I walked to the market. You were sunning down at the beach, remember? Well, gotta go!”

  5. GOOD LORD! Doesn’t anybody see the giant turtle (Gamera?) crawling up the beach towards Mark’s hut, right next to the giant mounds of poop!? Somebody, somebody, please call Mark Trail!! Oh, if there was only a cell phone available…!

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