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“Your husband sounds like a smart man,” Rafe replied. “This is the life out here. We’ve got a beautiful ocean behind us, I’ve got a cute new pal in my arms, and unfortunately, I have a job that I’m about to be late for. You have a great day.”

“You too,” she said.

Rafe looked back at her as he reached the parking lot, but she’d gone back to feeding the birds. Now, that was the life. That old man had a beautiful woman still by his side late into their older years. There she was, driving hours away from home for him, so she could feed birds while he enjoyed the ocean. That was a good woman, and he wondered if he’d ever have anything like it.

I’ve got a bird.

As he thought it, he remembered that an English friend of his used to call women birds. He’d talk about how he, “took this bird out last night and had to graft all night just so he could stick it on.”

Rafe had felt like he needed a British slang interpreter whenever they’d gone surfing. He laughed and gently touched the top of the bird’s head. The seagull chirped as he set it down gently on the passenger seat of his Jeep. If it could fly, which for some reason it hadn’t even attempted to since he’d first seen it on the beach, it could have launched itself into the air and flown away from the topless vehicle. After putting his surfboar

d in the backseat, he sat and turned the key in the ignition. He looked down at his new friend and wondered if anyone had a seagull as a pet. He laughed at the thought.

“Yeah, we’ll sit and watch movies together,” he said aloud.

Truth was, he’d never had a pet. Not as an adult anyway. He’d had a dog once as a kid, but when it suddenly died, it had shattered his heart in a million pieces and he’d promised himself he’d be friendly to animals, but he’d never again own one. Not only because he was afraid to lose a friend, but because he felt no spirit should be caged. It saddened him whenever he saw a dog inside a house. He couldn’t help transporting his thoughts to the dog’s mind, thinking what it must be like when the owners left the house and it was forced to stay alone, in quiet solitude, licking his balls and peering through window blinds for any movement outside that might serve as temporary entertainment. Yet, he knew it was necessary to take care of these animals, so he felt no ill-will toward their owners. It saddened him…that’s all.

“What’s your name, bro?” he asked the seagull as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward his new workplace.

He had a change of clothes in a duffle bag in the backseat. Queensland’s Department of Agriculture and Fisheries now housed a small unit aimed specifically at monitoring the shark population around its shores. Having the most experience with sharks, Keelan Kane was the obvious choice to run the unit. Being located in a building separate from the rest of the department offered agents a much more relaxed atmosphere. Kane was all business, but he seemed to understand that his best officers and his best partners were the ones who truly valued the nautical lifestyle and anyone who did wasn’t likely to show up to work in formal attire. So, the uniform was khaki shorts and polo with the unit logo on it. Ironically, the logo was that of a shark fin with a small school of fish to each side of the unit’s initials. Shark Safety Unit. Rafe had almost laughed when he’d first heard the name. It sounded childish in his opinion. Too simple. It was like something a group of kids would call themselves when playing at the pool and pretending a dangerous predator lurked beneath the calm chlorine-saturated surface.

“Freeze! SSU, you shark scumbags!” he could imagine a young boy yelling as he pointed a Nerf water gun at his friends.

“Come and get me, copper!” they’d reply as they ducked under and swam to safety.

My mind is a ridiculous place.

When Rafe arrived at the SSU building, he threw his Jeep into park and came around to pick up his injured new friend.

“Petey,” he said as he picked it up. “You look like a Petey to me. How do you like that name?”

The bird chirped.

“Petey the Brawler,” he added. “Because you took one nasty kick to the face and shrugged it off like ‘Fuck you, punk. Try that again.’”

He laughed and carried Petey inside.

Becca was waiting for him with a cup of coffee. The older silver-haired woman who owned her age and sported a sexy, mature attitude, was infatuated with him. Either that or she thought of him like a son. He could never tell for sure. Her semi-flirtatious ways were so subtle he wasn’t sure they existed. Nevertheless, she was always there for him and had accepted him with open arms. Beanie, Squid, and Hightail had met her once and all three had said something about hooking up with her. The thought had crossed Rafe’s mind a time or two, but it would have killed their working relationship.

“I come bearing a gift,” he said.

“You are a gift,” she replied. “What might you have brought with you that could make the day any more pleasant?”

He held Petey up and the seagull fluttered its wings almost as if dusting off its jacket to make a good impression.

“You brought me a…a bird,” she said. “Could you be any sweeter?”

Her sarcasm wasn’t lost on him.

“Well, the shark I originally had was too damn heavy to carry back to the jeep.”

“Let’s have a look at him,” she said as she took the bird and carried him over to a metal table.

She set him down and the seagull squawked its disapproval.

“Cold,” she said. “I know, hon.”

“You’re in good hands,” Rafe said as he left the two and went to find the grand master.

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