The Cypress Trap

Chapter 11

Owen didn’t pull back on the throttle until he was in sight of the boat ramp on the horizon. When he got back to the inlet he slowed the boat. The craft settled into the water at the last moment and, its bow pushing a rolling wave of water out front of it, scraped hard against the muddy bank. 

Owen and Darryl leapt out of the boat. Rayanne followed and found the ramp empty and quiet. No teenagers.

“Dropp’n F!” Owen screamed. “Where’s my truck?”

Owen ran to the dirt patch where an oil leak had stained the spot where his truck had been parked. Rayanne ran to the tree stump where she had hidden her purse and cooler. They were gone.

“My purse is gone,” she said.

“Dropp’n F! They stole the truck!” Owen screamed, then turned to Rayanne. “You left the keys and your purse here? They were watching you.”

“I’m sorry, Owen.”

Darryl stepped between Owen and Rayanne. “Layoff her. She didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“They stole my truck.” Owen threw up his arms. “Call 911. Get the police out here.”

“I can’t.” Rayanne shrugged. “My phone was in my purse.”

Owen turned to Darryl. Darryl shrugged.

“Sorry, Bro. My cell was in your truck. Where’s yours?”

“Mine broke.”

“What are we going to do?”

Owen approached Rayanne. “This is your fault! How could you be so stupid?”

“I’m sorry, Owen.”

“No – No, I don’t accept it.” Owen turned away from her then flipped back around. “You’re always riding me and you go and do something like this!”

“I told you we shouldn’t have come back out here.” She waved her arms at him, her voice rising. “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to get the hell away from me!”

“Fine. Fine, Owen. I will get away from you.” Turning sharply on her heel, she walked toward the tree line. Owen watched her a moment, then yelled again.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m leaving.”  She continued walking, not bothering to turn around.

“Get back over here, Rayanne.” He ran after her, reached for her.

“Don’t touch me!” She pushed him away as he yelled at her. 

Some infinite sadness. Some haunting regret fluttered its shadow across her face. Abruptly, crisply, she turned her head and murmured, “I’m done.” She barely heard it herself over Owen’s yelling. “I’m just done with you.”

 Owen stopped yelling. “What?”

Rayanne twisted the wedding ring on her left hand. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“What are you saing?” Owen held up his hands. “You want a divorce?”

“Yes, Owen. I’m done.” She stopped walking for a moment, thinking, then turned back to him. “I can’t take any more of this. I can’t take any more of you.”

“I can’t take any more of you either.”

“Fine. It’s settled then.” She turned again and walked away from him. Owen caught up with her.

“You’re serious? We’re really doing this.”

Rayanne stopped. “Owen, you’re impossible. If you would communicate like an adult rather than throw temper tantrums---“