"Can I come with you?" Alan asked, catching me before I headed out the door. It was the day after Christmas, and knowing that it'd be rude to ask any of Nick's deck hands to come out after spending only a day with their families, I nodded.

"You'll have to hurry and get dressed." I said, noting he was wearing a mixed match set of pajamas, "And dress for heat."

He nodded, smiling, and was barreling up the stairs.

In the three years that Nick and I had started our business, we'd gained another two boats, and now made triple what we were making when we'd started. We'd named the boats after our mates, for sintemental reasons. Meaning when Emily got a boat named after her, Angela was on my case to do the same... or she'd hurt me. The usual threat.

At first, there was a big controversy over what Nick and I had done. Many of the other fisherman were furious for expanding our little fortune, and for a while, we felt the same. Guilt showered us those first few weeks with the two new boats. And then we got our crews, which were a hundred percent, Dock yard drunks.

The jobs gave them liberation. The money gave them lives. At least, that's what Nick told me. He was sure that hiring a bunch of dock drunks would help us in the long run, and save us money. It wasn't about the money, I told him. And before I could scrap the idea, or at least my share, we saw what the jobs did for them.

Earl Rihneart, Sebastian Gale, and Antonio De Sentas, were the first crew we'd put together. And within only a month, they'd banded together to rent out a lease right next to the Delta Marina entrance. And two weeks later, disbanded, having enough to live separately. Most of that came from my advise to take out loans, build up credit, and with Nick as their boss, they were garounteed jobs. Something my consciousness could deal with.

My new crew was just me, Emmett Bronx, and Delius Nathaniel, who I just called D. It was less... middle-aged than Delius. They weren't unbearable to work with, but at times they'd push my buttons for a good laugh. Now, where I didn't know much about the men on Nick's crew, I knew mine like the back of my hand. D, was a construction worker, one of the men who actually built the bridge that connected Empire, LA, to Buras. He was turning forty-eight in February. His two kids were coming down from Edwards Air Force Base, for the occasion. He had good kids. I actually went to school with them. I just never remembered their names. I knew his sons name was something like James, or Jake... the others was a mystery.

Emmett, was only working with me to put himself through college so he could someday be an NFL coach. Which after listening to him talk during a game we'd listened too one day... I was sure he could make it. He had a great ability to envision how the field looked, with all of it's players lined up and ready to start. There was also a good man hiding under the football lingo, he was definitely a good drinking buddy, and one hell of an deck hand. I liked my crew.

This morning, however, I called them and said that me and Nick would be going in for a short morning. They appreciated the day off, but D was a little let down. Said he was ready to go about ten minutes before I even called. And laughing, he hung up after a "see you later".

This morning, it'd be just Nick and I... and Alan if he would ever hurry up.

"You coming?" I asked, my voice reverberated up the stairs, causing a stir in Alan's room. Which had been my room until I finally built up the courage to take my father's as my own. That was a very stressful move. Having to pack up all of my dads belongings... I couldn't get rid of them. So, I stored the important things of his, in the bottom of my side of the closet. His wrist watch that'd stopped, his wallet and the effects inside, a wedding ring that he'd once been given by my mom, and a few other nick knacks. The most important to me, was a book that he'd been holding when he... died. On the front of it's red velvet cover, were the words, Please God, Forgive Me.

Alan, finally emerged from his room. I'd already gone outside, but as soon as he'd opened the door, I hurried him to the Civic, where Nick had fallen asleep in the passenger seat. "Hurry up, we've got to shrimp boats. They always take forever too gas up."

******************************************************************************

The dredge line clanked as it pulled it's pregnant claws to the waters surface. The bright sun's light glistened and faded as it passed through the net full of oysters. Slowly it made it's way further up to the side of the boat, catching on the sorting table. Without any effort, Nick and I grasped the net links and flipped our catch onto our table.

"People eat those?" Alan asked. He was sitting on a giant mountain of Burlap sacks. We hadn't even gotten our first break, and just the thought of telling him how great oysters tasted... made me hungry.

"Yeah!" I said, a little too exuberant. Grabbing one off the table and popping it open, I scraped the oyster knife under the smooth, silver skin of the oyster, and handed it too him. "Try one."

He took it, skeptically. I thought he'd puke with the look he gave it. Nick looked over and laughed, getting back too work to stave off his tired mind. He'd been fighting sleep ever since he woke up at the dock. I knew he was having trouble, so I put on some slow rock over the speakers. Right now we were listening to Adams song, by Blink 182.

"Some people peal out the eye because of it's toughness." Nick said, peering through his peripheral at Alan. His eyes had been corrected automatically by his first change. Which meant no more glasses, unless his parents came around, and no more stigmatism. He was happy about it, to say the least.

Alan grimaced in the thought of this grey glob having an oyster... "I don't think I can do this." He said, poking it. I was on my twentieth oyster when he finally picked it up out of the half-shell. "This is so gross." He said, ripping off the eye, hoping that he was right in his assumption.

He held his breath, said a prayer, and then dropped the salty oyster in his open mouth. He didn't even have time to bite down before throwing himself over the railing to puke it up.

"You're supposed to bite into their stomachs. That's where the green stuff is." Nick laughed, not helping.

Alan puked even harder. "Oh, God." He said.

And as he turned, I popped an oyster open, scraped the bottom, and ate it right in front of him. He almost lost it again, calling me a jerk.

"Mike, is that a squall?" Nick asked, pointing out further into the Gulf of Mexico. To someone without a good sense of direction, like Nick, it would be really easy to get lost out in the Gulf.

As I looked out, I could see clouds swirling, they weren't ready to drop yet, which meant we had about an hour before we'd be in any real danger.

"Yeah, looks like it's a good five miles out." I said, raising my hand to block out the sun. When you fish for oysters, you drive in circles. It allows you to use the most of the lots that you payed good money for. "We should be fine though, winds blowing away from us."

"Is that like a tornado?" Alan asked, now sitting on the deck against the burlap mountain behind him.

"Kind of. In the sense that it's something to avoid at all costs."

"Then why aren't we going back in?"

"Cause we've got the wind on our side, and bills to pay." I said simply, getting back to work. We really didn't have any big bills. With the house payed off, along with the land that it stood on, all we really had left were the two car notes and the insurance for the boats. The boats, were payed off with the life insurance from my father. Something I was totally against at first... but after talking it over with Angela, we decided it to be a good idea. Nick was ecstatic.

"Hell yes." Nick agreed. He and Emily were saving up for a wedding that both of them were dying for.

Starting off where my thoughts led me, I decided to go along with my continued argument with Nick. The one he was always so desperate to avoid. "So when are you and Emily going to stop torturing each other and finally listen to your instincts?" I asked, careful of what I said around Alan. I didn't know what he was use to hearing with the old pack, so I kept it coy. Besides, he really needed time for his stomach to settle.

"Is there anything too eat?" Alan asked, interupting the glaring Nick that stood working on the other side of the table.

I pointed to the cabin and when he was away from us, closing the door behind him, Nick threw a small clam at me. "Why won't you let this go?" He asked, getting back to his work.

"Because it hurts me to see you so... anxious." I lied. I just wanted the constant tension between the two lovers to end. It bothered me to no end, and it never gave in. I was actually surprised to see their behavior during Christmas day. And I really wanted that back. That's not selfish. I told myself.

"Don't be an ass. Emily and I decided to wait until marriage. And that's the end of it."

Alan emerged from the quiet cabin, a can of Vienna sausages in hand. "Am I going to start school here?" He asked.

I had actually thought all morning of a good argument for Nick's situation, but Alan's question actually brought me to something else I wanted to get at today. His mother had sent me all of his paperwork, including his birth certificate, social security card, and a rather incomplete transcript of what she'd been home schooling him on. To be honest... I didn't know what I was going to do with it all!

"I'll have to figure something out, but yeah. I was going to try and set you up as soon as school started again."

He only nodded. He didn't want to go. That much was clear. He must've been on a guilt trip.

The day went on though. Through the sounds of a mixed CD and the thumps and cracks of our works progress, the day passed. We worked through the heat, the squall let us be, and we spent the day enjoying each others company, and then had lunch.

Alan mostly ate in silence. He'd ask the occasional question whenever someone looked at him. Probably a defense mechanism. I wrote it off as a sudden timid mood change. I really didn't know enough about my brother to read him. And so I had to ask. "What's wrong, Alan?"

"Nothing. Just thinking of life after school." He was telling the truth, but not all of it.

I eyed him for a few seconds, and he just stared down at his meager meal. Canned meat, and a few random snacks from my stash. Seeing as how he didn't like seafood, I just gave him what was left in my bag.

"Nick, can you give us a sec?"

"Sure." He said, grabbing his half-eaten burger and soda. He left quietly, but I knew he'd be able too hear through the thin glass, even with the speakers pounding out a more upbeat tune.

"It's not just that is it?" I asked. He didn't say anything. "If you're worried about the change, or not being able too see your mom for a while, or anything else, you know you can tell me, right?"

"I know. But it doesn't make it any easier."

"Come on. You can't say that." I argued. "Everything gets better over time."

He sighed, taking a handful of chips out of their bag and placing them on his plate. "Not when your mom has cancer."