The Chief, and the assault by the Tinker Mackerel
Me and Chief Vin Carlone go way back in this town. He was a cop, I was a teacher, our sons hung out and played guitars. Vin Jr. was a student of mine. Moreover, we both play guitars, have dogs, and do some scribbling. So today in the damp drizzle, I was telling him about a new book of mine up at Island Bound, and we got to yakking about technical writing stuff: points of view, objectivity, subjectivity, and the merits of writing literary non-fiction as opposed to fiction.
Our conversation, was a good one as far as ferry parking lot conversation goes with the Chief. Ya know, it wasn't about crime; it was a good chat. So we're doing the yada yada thing, and suddenly I hear a swooshing sound from above. Then, I hear a whoooomp. Turns out that some gulls were having a Battle Royale with 4, yes I said 4, Tinker Mackeral. The gulls failed—after tearing apart the out gunned aquatic creatures they were trying to gobble down the gaping maw of their gullets—to keep the fish in their mouths. After dropping said fish, they were coming in hot, and all hit the Chief's car in unison; missing me and Dave Alpers by inches. We were noting the slop on Vin's car, as I got a butler to sweep up the deceased Tinkers. "There is a story here, right Joe," laughed the Chief.
"You bet this will be fodder for a story, Chief."
"What angle will you take," he said.
"I'll figure it out," I replied.
As the Chief was backing his car onto the boat, I noticed that besides the mound of gooey slime from this aerial assault, there was also a very small fish on his hood. I told him to let it stay there if anyone doubts the veracity of this story. It would be evidence.
Just another day in Paradise, folks.