Blindsided

A Charlie Flanigan Mystery Short Story

Matt Day

This is a work of fiction.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. In the event a

real name or place is used, it is used fictitiously.

Copyright © 2015 by Clean Sweep Publishing. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or

retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Illustrations by Diana Tateo, http://myebooknow.com/

This series of books is dedicated to the fine people of Daytona Beach Florida, both past and present, who served as an inspiration for these stories.

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Thank you for purchasing this Charlie Flanigan Mystery story, we really hope that you enjoy it.

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Chapter 1

One spring morning, 1951, Daytona Beach, Florida…

With a groan Charlie Flanigan rolled over, scrunching his face up as the sunlight crept through a

gap in the bedroom curtains. He scrubbed a hand over his face, recognizing that he was in

desperate need of a shave before he started the day.

He heard the hinges on the bedroom door creak and listened carefully to the pitter patter of little

feet as they crossed the wooden floor. “Daddy?” came the whispered voice of his daughter,

bringing a smile to his face.

Opening one eye, he met the blue-eyed gaze of his four-year old Sarah, and couldn’t help but

push himself up a little more to smile at her, “Hello, sunshine. How’s my girl?”

“Good. Daddy, mommy said we could take a walk on the beach before breakfast. You need to

get up!” Sarah reached out and pulled on his arm, trying to hurry him up.

Charlie chuckled and dutifully left his bed. “Mommy said, huh?”

“Yes. Hurry!”

“I’m hurrying. Why don’t you go find your bucket and shovel? Maybe we can make a quick

sandcastle this morning.”

“Yay!” Sarah turned and dashed from the room, hollering through the two-bedroom bungalow

style house, “Mommy! Daddy’s awake! I’m going to find my bucket!”

Charlie headed for the bathroom, needing to wash his face and attempt to wake up. His daughter

had an abundance of energy that just never seemed to dwindle. Splashing some water on his face,

he brushed his teeth and then looked up to see his wife Mary Lou standing in the doorway.

Giving her a tender smile, he winked at her, “Good morning.”

Mary Lou smiled back, “She’s a little rambunctious this morning. I’ve already made her wait

over an hour before I would let her wake you up. You got in kind of late last night.”

Charlie looked at his wife, seeing no condemnation in her eyes or in her voice, and pushed his

own twinges of guilt aside. He’d been spending several evenings a week down at one of several

bars, drinking and trying to come to terms with his life now that the war was over and he was a

lowly civilian again.

He never brought his drinking home with him, having too much respect for his lovely wife, and

his impressionable daughter, and did his best to sober up some before leaving the bars and

heading home. He almost always succeeded.

“Sorry about that. How about I don’t go out this evening? We could feed Sarah an early dinner

and then you and I could spend some quality time together?”

Mary Lou smiled, “That sounds like a great idea! Sarah and I can go to the market later and

I’ll pick up some fresh fish for dinner.”

“Wonderful!” Charlie ran a quick comb through his hair and then turned, “Let me throw some

clothes on, grab my shoes, and I’m ready.”

Mary Lou nodded, “We’ll meet you outside then.”

Charlie donned one of his favorite Hawaiian print shirts with a bright blue background, pink

flamingos, and bright yellow pineapples scattered here and there. He grabbed a hat and plunked

it down on his head before heading towards the back door. Sarah was eagerly waiting for him,

her favorite yellow plastic bucket held tightly in one hand, while a plastic shovel was clasped in

the other.

“Daddy, are you ready?” she asked, vibrating with excess energy.

“Sure, sweetheart. Let’s go.”

Charlie took her bucket and shovel, placing them in one hand, while clasping her little hand in

the other. Mary Lou took Sarah’s other hand and they started out. The Flanigan house was only

a few blocks from the public beach, as well as the marina and docks where Charlie kept both his

boat and his seaplane. Moving inland, the house was perfectly situated near shops, Charlie’s

office, the post office, and several other frequently visited places. It was the perfect place to live

with his wife and daughter!

The small family spent well over an hour scouring the wet beach, the tide having receded only an

hour or so earlier, and then the task of building a sandcastle commenced. Charlie made sure they

began far enough up the beach so that the incoming waves wouldn’t carry it out to sea

prematurely. Something that had happened a few times in the past and had led to one very upset

little girl. He was more careful now, not liking to see his child in tears or upset.

After about an hour, Sarah threw down her shovel and stood up, declaring, “I’m hungry!”

Charlie grinned at her, “You are? Shall we head home and maybe we can convince mommy to

make us pancakes?” He grinned up at his wife who was already smiling and nodding her head.

“Yay! I want mine to look like a mouse!”

Mary Lou laughed, “Well, you will have to help me then.”

“Okay,” Sarah agreed, her pigtails waving like little flags atop her head. She scurried around,

retrieving her bucket and shovel before looking down at the half-finished sand castle with a

frown. “What about our castle?”

“We can come back and finish it later. There aren’t too many people out this early. Let’s go get

some breakfast and then we’ll come finish your castle before lunch,” Charlie suggested.

“Can we have a picnic too?” Sarah asked, never missing an opportunity to spend time at the

beach.

Mary Lou laughed, “Let’s see about some breakfast before we starting thinking about lunch.”

When she saw the beginnings of a frown start, she reached out and took one of her hands, “I

think a picnic sounds doable as well.”

“Yippee! Daddy, can you come to our picnic?” Sarah asked, giving her bucket to Charlie before

taking his hand and swinging both of her arms.

Her parents took the subtle hint and swung her feet off the ground, sharing a warm smile

between themselves. Charlie smiled all the way back home. Things had been a little rocky when

he’d first come home from the war, having been away for quite some time and never having had

the chance to watch his little girl grow up from her infancy. But it was days like today that gave

him hope things were on the right track.

Yes, things were definitely looking up for the Flanigan family, and Charlie looked forward to

many more years of watching Sarah grow up. Mary Lou and he were getting along almost as

well as they had before he left for the war, and his business was steadily picking up. The sun was

shining, and life was almost perfect!

Chapter 2

Returning home, Mary Lou quickly rinsed Sarah’s feet off and then took her inside the house to

start breakfast. Charlie washed the sand form his own feet and then set about rinsing the sand

from their shoes, and Sarah’s bucket and shovel. He also gave the beach chairs a quick rinse, and

then set them in the sunshine to dry.

Once done, he placed everything on the wire rack outside the back door, and then set above

rinsing the sand off the concrete patio. Mary Lou and Sarah were notorious for coming outside

barefoot, and his wife was also emphatic about keeping the sand outside, and not on her clean

floors!

“Breakfast’s ready,” came her call from the kitchen window a few moments later.

Charlie stored the hose and then headed inside. He kissed Sarah on the top of her head as he

walked around the table and took his own seat. Mary Lou placed a plate piled high with pancakes

in the middle of the table, and was just about to sit down herself, when the phone rang.

Charlie made an attempt to get up, but Mary Lou wave him back down and said, “I’ll get it.

Could you help Sarah fix her pancake?”

“Sure.” Charlie picked up the syrup container and poured some over the mouse face pancake that

sat on Sarah’s plate. Mary Lou had used raisins for eyes, a chocolate chip for the nose, and a thin

piece of licorice for the mouth. “Your pancake looks very cute, Sarah.”

“Thanks. Mommy used licorice for his mouth. See?” Sarah asked, holding up the thin piece of

candy before taking a bite of it.

“I see.” Charlie raised his head and listened as Mary Lou answered the phone.

"Hello."

"Hello, is this the Flanigan residence?"

"Why yes it is. This is Mrs. Flanigan, how can I help you?"

"This is Brad Mutchler. Charlie, err, Mr. Flanigan flew my family and I to Abaco in the Bahamas

last week. Is he home? I really need to speak to him." The sense of urgency in the voice put a

worried look on Mary Lou’s face.

“Hold on, he’s right here.” Mary Lou placed the phone down on the counter and then turned to

Charlie, “It’s Brad Mutchler. He’s calling from the Bahamas?”

Charlie nodded his head, remembering the young family he had shuttled out to the islands not

quite a week ago.

"Hello Mr. Mutchler, this is Charlie. How's everything going?"

"Not too well I'm afraid.” There was a pause on the phone line and then the voice continued,

“Our daughter Cindy has fallen ill, and the folks at the local clinic here are not quite sure what to

make of it. They've recommended that we get her back to the states as soon as possible. She

appears to be declining quite rapidly.” There was another pause, but before Charlie could talk,

Brad continued, “And that's the reason for my call. I know it’s awfully short notice, but would it

be possible for you to fly over and pick us up? We would greatly appreciate it."

"I'm so sorry to hear about Cindy, Mr. Mutchler. Of course, I'd be more than happy to come get

you and your family. Let me work out some details and then get back with you. Give me a phone

number there where I can either reach you or leave you a message."

"Oh thank you so much Mr. Flanigan, you don't know how much this means to us."

"No problem Mr. Mutchler. And please, just call me Charlie. I'll talk to you soon."

Charlie hung up the phone, his mind racing to process what he had just learned and already

making a list of the things that needed to happen in order to meet Mr. Mutchler’s request. He was

more than happy to make an emergency run to the Bahamas. But there was one major problem.

His beloved Grumman seaplane, "the Goose", was at the mechanic's for scheduled maintenance.

The maintenance hangar wasn't too far away, only about a fifteen minute drive, and Charlie

decided to head there directly to check on the status of "the Goose" firsthand.

“Is there an emergency?” Mary Lou asked as Charlie reclaimed his seat at the table.

He nodded, “Yes. The family I flew over to the Bahamas last week have a young daughter. She’s

fallen ill and the medical staff at the local clinic are suggesting that she return to the states

immediately. They need me to come pick them up today.”

“Oh, I can’t imagine what those poor parents must be going through. Of course you have to go

pick them up. But, isn’t your plane in the shop?”

“Yes,” Charlie nodded, finishing his breakfast and washing it down with the last of his coffee.

Mary Lou had cooked him a couple of eggs, knowing that his blood sugar couldn’t handle a

breakfast of only pancakes. Charlie had been diagnosed as a Type I Diabetic while in the

military, and lately his blood sugar had been nice and stable. He appreciated the fact that his wife

cared enough about him to help him eat healthy and in a way designed to help him with his

diabetes. Just another item he could be thankful for!

“I’m going to head over to the shop and see what’s up.” Leaning down, he kissed Sarah on the

forehead, “Sugar, daddy has to go to work, but maybe mommy can help you finish your sand

castle.”

“Sure I can. We’ll even make some sandwiches to take with us so we can have that picnic.”

“Okay,” Sarah said, not overly upset with the change in her father’s plans, because she was still

getting a second trip to the beach and a picnic. All was good from her perspective.

“What will you do if the plane’s not ready?” Mary Lou asked, following Charlie to the doorway.

“Borrow one, I guess. I’ll figure something out. I’d want someone to do the same for us if that

little girl out there was Sarah.”

Mary Lou kissed him goodbye and then watched him drive off in their 1950 Chevrolet Bel Air.

She turned to see Sarah stuffing the last bite of pancake into her mouth. “Why don’t you go wash

up while I do the dishes? You can help me put the clothes out to dry and then we’ll see about

making ourselves a picnic to take to the beach.

“Okay, mommy.” Sarah skipped off down the hallway and Mary Lou began cleaning up the

breakfast dishes. As she dried the last of the plates, she stopped to listen to Sarah chattering away

to her beloved dolls. Smiling, she looked out the window at the sunshine and marveled at how

quickly life had changed.

When Charlie had first come home from the service, things had been very tense and

uncomfortable in their household. He’d had so many adjustments to make, as had she. He’d been

meeting his daughter for the first time, and she’d had to learn how to help him cope with his

diabetes.

She thought back to their earlier trip to the beach and smiled. Sarah had her father’s eyes, and

they sparkled like diamonds when she was happy. Mary Lou could remember many times in the

past when she’d seen that same merriment sparkling in Charlie’s eyes as he teased her. He was

an amazing man, and she was glad that he seemed to be adjusting more to civilian life.

Life had thrown them a few curve balls, but they were doing fine now. Things were looking up

and she had great hopes for their future.

Chapter 3

Charlie entered the airplane mechanic’s hanger and held back a groan of frustration. He was just

inside the hangar, and he already knew the answer to his question in regards to his beloved plane.

The entire left Pratt and Whitney engine lay partially disassembled on the floor, and the rest of

his seaplane sat parked nearby. There was no way that this bird was flying today!

Charlie walked back outside and stood there pondering for a few moments what to do next.

There was no way he was going to let the Mutchlers down at this point, but he was going to have

to come up with a plan other than flying his own bird over to get them.

He began to formulate a mental list of the seaplanes in the local area. A few years earlier, and

there would have been an abundance of such craft in the Daytona Beach area, but now there were

only a few still around. Charlie made a couple of calls, but didn't have any luck locating an

available seaplane. They were either already spoken for, being serviced, or no longer in the area.

Finally, he decided to give an old acquaintance, Rob McCoy, a call. The McCoy family had a

long and colorful presence in the Daytona Beach area. Rob's uncle, Bill McCoy, had made a

name for himself during the prohibition as a famous "rum runner." He had declared himself an

“honest lawbreaker,” smuggling alcohol in from the Bahamas and delivering it up and down the

eastern seaboard.

Bill McCoy had managed to avoid becoming involved with organized crime, and had prided

himself on selling clean merchandise, not the watered down stuff sold by other bootleggers.

After spending several months in a New Jersey prison after being caught, he’d returned to the

Daytona Beach area and started building boats along with his brother, Rob’s father.

Rob and Charlie had attended high school together, and had even played baseball together,

although Charlie hadn't seen much of him the last few years. Charlie had recently noticed a de

Havilland Beaver seaplane docked at the McCoy family shipyard up in Holly Hill, and he

wondered what the story was in regards to that aircraft. As he placed the call, he hoped that

maybe Rob could shed some light on the status of the plane, and tell him whom he needed to

speak with in regards to possibly borrowing it for the afternoon.

After what seemed an incredibly long time, Charlie was able to reach Rob on the phone.

“Rob, Charlie Flanigan here.”

“Charlie! How have you been?”

“Good, good. Hey, I was wondering what you could tell me about that Beaver seaplane docked

at the shipyard up in Holly Hill.”

“Well, what do you want to know about her? I brought her down from Canada a few months

back. She runs out really smooth.”

“That’s good to hear. Well, I’m in a bind and wondering if you could help me out. One of my

charter flights last week was to take a family over to Abaco. The father called this morning, and

his daughter is very ill and he has been advised to bring her back to the states as soon as possible.

Now, normally, this wouldn’t be a problem, but my seaplane in in the shop for her yearly

maintenance, and as of twenty minutes ago, the left engine is sitting in the hangar in lots of

pieces.”

“Wow! So what can I do to help?”

“I hate to ask, but I was wondering if there was any way I could borrow the Beaver for a quick

jaunt over to pick up the family this afternoon.”

“Hey, no problem! Charlie, come on up and get her,” Rob replied without hesitation.

“Thanks, Rob.”

“Don’t mention it. She’s not scheduled to go out for a couple of days, and she’s already gassed

up and ready to go.”

“Rob, that is more than I could have asked for. I know that my client will be thankful as well. I

need to make a few more arrangements, but I’ll be up there within the hour.”

Charlie was so grateful! He quickly drove back home, gathered up his belongings for the trip,

and asked Mary Lou to drive him up to Holly Hill. She had been in the kitchen when he arrived

back home making a picnic lunch for her and Sarah to share, and had readily agreed to take him

up to the shipyard before she and Sarah headed back to the beach.

They currently only had one vehicle, and while Charlie could have driven himself up and left the

car in the parking lot, he hated leaving Mary Lou without a means of transportation. Once they

reached the shipyard, he kissed Sarah, and then Mary Lou, “I love you both very much.”

“We love you too, Daddy. Hurry home,” Sarah told him, blowing him another big kiss from the

backseat.

Charlie pretended to catch her kiss and stuff it in the pocket of his Hawaiian shirt before he

slipped out of the car, “I’ll see you both real soon. Have fun at the beach!”

“We will. I’ll say a prayer for the little girl and for your trip. Be safe and I’ll have dinner waiting

when you get back home.”

Charlie watched her drive away and then heard his name being called, “Charlie!”

Turning around, he saw Rob standing at the gated entryway of the shipyard’s marina. “Hey, Rob.

Thanks again.”

“Don’t mention it. I thought I’d come down and give you a few pointers on this particular type of

seaplane. You fly a Grumman, right?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“The controls of the Beaver are very similar, so you should have no problems at all. There is an

auxiliary fuel tank on this plane, but I don’t imagine you’ll need that on such a short flight.”

Charlie seated himself in the plane, a white plane with a bright yellow stripe running down her

sides. The single-engine fixed wing plane was not all that much different form his beloved

“Goose”, but he was appreciative of Rob’s quick tutorial nonetheless.

Ten minutes later, he was taxiing out into the main channel of the Halifax River. Saying his

customary silent prayer, he pulled back on the throttle and began moving across the surface of

the water. One of the main differences between his plane and this one was the shorter distance

needed for takeoff. In no time at all, the Beaver lifted off the surface of the water and Charlie

headed out to sea. He kept his altitude fairly low for a few minutes while he familiarized himself

with the various controls, moments later smiling as he gained confidence in his ability to keep

the small aircraft airborne.

As Charlie flew farther away from the mainland, the clear sky began to fill with thick, dark storm

clouds. Seeing no way to escape the storm, Charlie gripped the steering wheel tightly and headed

into the middle of the storm. There was lightning and lots of rain, and the wind gusts kept him on

his toes as he attempted to correct his course accurately.

As the storm worsened, Charlie tried to keep his mind off another storm he’d been in. Unlike the

present storm, he’d not been fighting weather and Mother Nature, but mortar shells and artillery

fire. He’d been behind enemy lines with his cargo plane, dropping some much needed supplies to

the American troops, when his plane had become severely damaged as he attempted to fly out of

the area.

Charlie had managed to navigate his way back to the ocean, but his plane had suffered too many

injuries to maintain flight. Charlie had been forced to parachute out over the ocean with only

minutes to spare before his plane went down. He recalled the terrifying moment when he had

jumped out of the plane, that brief moment when he’d wondered if he’d live to see his wife and

new daughter again.

And then his parachute had opened, and he’d been jerked upwards sharply before floating slowly

back down to the ocean below. Unfortunately, a storm was brewing off the coast of France, and

the waves and winds had come up quite a bit. As he approached the surface of the ocean, his

parachute was captured by a gust of cooler air, partially collapsing the chute and sending him

plummeting the remaining fifty feet or so into the frigid waters.

Luckily, he’d been able to radio command his approximate location, and he’d spotted a ship

heading his direction as he’d floated down. He was only in the water for an hour before a rescue

lifeboat found him and pulled him to safety. Much to his dismay, his ordeal hadn’t ended there

though.

He’d landed wrong, tearing both ligaments and muscles, and dislocating his right shoulder. Due

to the severity of the injury, he’d not been cleared to fly solo any longer. That one simple act had

forever impacted his life!

A flash of lightning to his right brought him back to the present, and he studiously maintained his

heading, hoping the storm clouds would abate soon. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly,

his knuckles going white as his memories plagued him.

Just as he was starting to come up with a plan for survival, should he be forced to ditch the plane,

the skies started to clear and all he could see in front of him was blue sky. As the seaplane left

behind the storm, Charlie heaved a sigh of relief and began to think about the Mutchlers and their

little girl.

Chapter 4

Early afternoon, Abaco Island, Marsh Harbour…

Charlie approached the Marsh Harbour, the largest city on this particular island in the Abaco

chain, and after gaining permission from the radio tower, began his descent. He taxied to the

nearest pier and completed his post-flight checklist before exiting the plane.

One of the island locals had already secured the pontoons to the wooden pier, and he smiled at

the young man as he headed for the beach and parking lot beyond. He wasn’t surprised to see

Brad Mutchler waiting anxiously for his arrival.

After gaining Rob’s permission to borrow the Beaver, he’d contacted Mr. Mutchler and given

him his approximate arrival time. Charlie glanced at his wristwatch and realized the storm had

slowed him down, as he was more than thirty minutes behind schedule.

Based on the size of the storm cell, they would more than likely encounter it on their way back to

the states, which would cause yet another delay. Shrugging his shoulders, he rolled his neck as

he drew near the worried father.

“Mr. Mutchler.”

“Charlie, please – call me Brad. I was beginning to worry you might not make it in.”

“Sorry about that. I ran into a spot of weather, but here I am.”

“Well, I’m glad. Come on, I’ll take you over to the clinic. I really don’t know what’s wrong with

Cindy, but her mother and I are very worried about her.”

Charlie nodded in sympathy, “Having a four-year old at home, I can well understand that. Let’s

go have a looksee at your young princess.”

Charlie followed alongside Brad as they walked the quarter mile to the local clinic. It was staffed

by local nurses and one doctor, and while they were capable of handling most minor accidents

and basic illnesses, the more complex injuries and life-threatening illnesses were beyond the

scope of their abilities.

Charlie entered the clinic behind Brad, his eyes being drawn immediately to the white draped

bed where Cindy Mutchler lay in obvious pain. The local physician, Dr. Bouvier, met Charlie

and shook his hand.

Brad joined his wife at his daughter’s bedside, gently taking a damp cloth and wiping the sweat

from her brow as he murmured soothing words of comfort to her. Their other two children sat

nervously by, watching their older sister as she writhed upon the bed in pain.

Charlie took the small window of opportunity to talk to the doctor alone and asked about her

symptoms.

“The young lady is very sick. Nausea. Vomiting. Her head – it hurts. Bad.”

Charlie was glad that he’d spent so much time going back and forth to the islands and conversing

with the locals. Dr. Bouvier’s accent was very pronounced, and his English was spotty and

difficult to understand at times.

Sensing Brad approaching behind him, he turned and waited until the man was within a few feet

of his position before asking, “What kind of activities have you all done in the last few days?

Has she had contact with anyone who appeared to be sick?”

Brad shook his head, "I've been thinking about that. There's really nothing that stands out. We

went sailing, did some snorkeling. Ate lunch and dinner - nothing unusual."

"I see," replied Charlie, his mind running through a variety of scenarios, none of which seemed

plausible given what Mr. Mutchler had just said. Looking at the little girl, his mind took a

different route, "How about lunch and dinner? Do you remember what Cindy ate?"

“Well, let’s see…”

The conversation continued, with Brad Mutchler and his wife going back over each meal that

had been eaten since their arrival upon the island. Eventually, they came to dinner two nights

previously. Cindy had been the only one to eat fresh red snapper and suddenly Charlie had a

feeling he knew what was causing the little girls’ illness. Ciguatera!

A horrible illness that could be life-threatening if proper medical support wasn’t obtained. The

food-borne illness was caused by eating certain types of reef fish, normally fish that preyed upon

other, smaller reef fish who consumed algae and coral as part of the daily diet. The

contaminated fish remained contaminated, even when it had been cooked at a high temperature,

causing anyone who dared to consume it to become very sick.

Because the small organism that caused the illness couldn’t be seen by the naked eye, nor could

it be smelled or tasted, unsuspecting humans didn’t realize they’d eaten the contaminated fish

until it was too late. Humans like little Cindy Mutchler who was extremely ill if the pallor of her

skin was anything to go by.

“Dr. Bouvier, I believe you were correct in recommending Cindy be transported back to the

states as soon as possible. Hopefully we can get her back quickly and the physicians there can

help ease her suffering while her body fights off this illness.”

“Charlie, do you have any idea of what might be wrong with her?” Brad asked, never taking his

eyes off his sick little girl.

“I think she probably ate some bad fish the other night.”

“What?! How do we cure her?” Mrs. Mutchler asked, having heard their conversation.

“As far as I know, there’s not really a cure per se, but the medical staff back at the hospital

should be able to help alleviate some of her symptoms while her body recovers. I do think we

should get headed back as soon as possible.”

Brad nodded his head, “We’re already packed and ready to go.”

“Good. Dr. Bouvier, could you possibly help us get everything back to the marina?” Charlie

asked, looking at the mound of luggage and hoping everything and everyone was going to fit

inside the much smaller Beaver. His Goose had plenty of room for luggage and passengers, but

the borrowed Beaver was much more limited in space. It was going to be tight!

Dr. Bouvier pulled his car around to the front of the clinic and Charlie and Brad loaded the

luggage. While Mrs. Mutchler shepherded her other two children into the back of the vehicle,

Brad picked up his little girl and placed her upon her mother’s lap in the backseat. He climbed in

next to her, leaving Charlie to ride in the passenger seat next to Dr. Bouvier.

“Thank you,” he murmured to the native physician.

Dr. Bouvier nodded, “You get her to a hospital right away.”

“I will. When we get close enough, I’ll have an ambulance sent out to take her directly to the

local hospital just as soon as we land.”

“Good. Nice family.”

Charlie smiled and then nodded, silently thanking God for his own daughter’s health. He hoped

she and Mary Lou were having a nice time at the beach and that Sarah wasn’t causing her mother

too much stress. Sarah was a handful of energy, and often Charlie would come home for dinner

to find Mary Lou completely wore out from trying to keep up with their daughter.

“Charlie, I’m going to get Cindy and her mother settled into the plane along with the other

children. Can you and Dr. Bouvier handle the luggage?”

Charlie nodded and watched as Brad gently picked his daughter up and headed towards the

seaplane. Dr. Bouvier helped with the luggage, and by the time Brad had his wife and daughter

secured in one of the vacant seats, and had helped fasten the seatbelts of his other children,

Charlie was shoving the last piece of luggage in place.

It was definitely a tight fit, and he was secretly pleased that the Mutchler’s didn’t have more

children. There wasn’t room for even a loaf of bread in the back of the plane now!

Charlie climbed into the pilot’s seat, wishing there was some way to check their weight before he

attempted a takeoff, but that was not a luxury he had at this juncture. He went through his pre-

flight checklist, silently praying they weren’t overweight.

As he was finishing his final check, one of the uniformed locals approached the plane and

gestured for him to exit the plane.

“Where does dis plane go?” the older man asked in his broken English.

“Back to Florida in the United States.”

“I saw Dr. Bouvier. What is wrong with passengers?”

Charlie barely resisted rolling his eyes in response to the question. “The little girl is sick. She ate

some bad fish a few nights ago and needs medical attention.”

“Why doesn’t Dr. Bouvier treat her here?”

Charlie sighed, “Because she needs a hospital. Don’t worry; they were very happy with their stay

on your island. They will not be saying anything negative about their time here.” Tourism dollars

were finally starting to trickle down, and some of the locals worried about negative publicity

keeping Americans from visiting and bringing their money along with them. Any hint that a

visitor might leave their island unhappy was cause for concern and questioning.

“Sir, I really do need to get this plane in the air before the little girl becomes even more sick.”

The man nodded his head and then took a step back, “Of course. Wish your passengers a safe

journey home and we hope they come visit us again in the near future.”

Charlie smiled and nodded, “I’m sure they will.”

Chapter 5

Charlie didn’t wait for the man to respond; he simply turned his back and climbed back into the

plane.

“What was that all about?” Brad questioned as Charlie started the propellers and prepared to taxi

out into the smooth waters of the harbor.

“They are afraid you will go back home and complain about their island. They’ve grown used to

the flow of tourist dollars and are afraid you and I have the power to change that.”

“That’s nonsense. I hope you told them so,” Brad offered.

“I did. Now, buckle up and we’ll be on our way. Your little girl needs a doctor and I know just

who to call.”

Charlie checked his pre-flight list one last time, not wanting to take any chances in the strange

plane. After signaling to the young man waiting on the dock to remove the ropes from the

pontoons, he started moving away from the wooden platform and out into the open water of the

small inlet.

“Everyone buckled up tight?” he called back into the small cabin.

“Yes, sir.”

“Yes.”

“We’re ready to go home, Mr. Flanigan.”

Charlie smiled and then pushed the throttle forward, increasing the planes speed across the

smooth surface of the ocean and amazed at how little space was needed for this particular

seaplane design to become airborne. His Goose needed at least twice the distance before she

could safely take off.

As they reached their cruising altitude, Charlie picked up the radio and contacted the tower in

Daytona Beach.

“Go ahead, Charlie. What’s up?” asked the man currently manning the radio tower.

“Is this Antonio?”

“Sure is. You don’t usually radio in this far out. Is there a problem?”

“I’m bringing back a young lady who is need of some medical intervention. I have my suspicions

and was wondering if you could get the emergency room on the phone and relay my questions?”

“Are you talking about Halifax hospital?”

“That’s the one. See if you can get one of their emergency room physicians on the line.”

“Will do. Give me a few minutes.”

Charlie waited for Antonio to come back on the radio, keeping his eye on the storm clouds that

lie directly in their path. As before, there was no chance of going around the storm cell, it was

simply too big and they didn’t have that kind of time!

Charlie left the radio signal open, knowing that Antonio would come back on the line when he

could.

“Charlie, I have a Dr. Jameson on the phone. What would you like me to tell him?”

“Tell him I have a ten-year old female, she ate fresh red snapper two nights ago, and now has

nausea, vomiting, body aches and a rather nasty headache.”

“Hang on.”

“Charlie?”

“I’m here.”

“The doctor says it’s imperative that you get her to the hospital as soon as you land in Daytona.

He thinks she’s been poisoned by the fish she ate.”

“That’s what I was thinking as well. I don’t mind telling you, she’s a pretty sick little girl.”

“Copy. Can I send an ambulance to get her when you land?”

“That would be great. I’m going to be landing in my usual spot along the Halifax River. Have the

ambulance meet us there.” He’d take care of getting Rob’s plane back up to Holly Hill once

Cindy Mutchler was taken care of.

“Estimated arrival time?” Antonio asked.

“Within the hour. We’ve got quite a storm directly in front of us.”

“I see that. Be advised the current radar shows the storm cell is abating slightly to the south. If

you change your heading by 5 degrees for the next twenty minutes, that should take you out of

the worst of it.”

“Thanks. Making course adjustment now. Get that ambulance on its way.”

“Will do. Be safe. Tower out.”

Charlie looked over to see Brad watching him with a worried look upon his face. Giving him a

comforting smile, he offered, “She’s going to be fine. Dr. Jameson is a good guy and knows

what he’s doing. He’ll have everything ready when you get to the hospital with your daughter.”

Brad gave him a weak grin, “Thank you for doing this. She’s been so ill, and it’s hard to watch

your child suffer and know there’s nothing you can do to help them.”

As he steered the plane into the gathering storm clouds, keeping an eye on his controls as the

light from the sun was completely obliterated by the dark clouds. Turning on the outside lights,

he tried not to allow the memories that had assailed him on the earlier flight rise to the surface.

Five minutes after entering the storm cell, the plane sputtered and he looked down to see the fuel

gauge registering empty! He tapped the gauge, unbelieving what his eyes were telling him. Rob

had said the plane was fully fueled up and even had a second auxiliary tank. That should have

been more than enough fuel to make the trip over and back.

He scanned the other controls, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw another fuel gauge off to

his right, showing it was completely full. He looked around for some switch that would tell the

engine to change where it was drawing its fuel from, but no such switch was visible.

Before he could panic, he picked up the radio and called the tower once again.

Chapter 6

“This is tower control in Daytona Beach.”

“Charlie Flanigan again.”

“Yes, Charlie. Is there another problem?”

“Yes, I need you to give Rob McCoy a call up in Holly Hill. I borrowed his Beaver this morning,

and it has a secondary fuel tank, but I can’t figure out how to switch them over. I have maybe

two or three minutes left on this tank, and then we’re going to be completely out of fuel on the

current tank.”

“Hang on.”

Charlie felt the engine sputter once again and offered up a silent prayer the tower would be

successful in phoning Rob.

“Charlie? Rob says there is a black toggle switch on the left hand side of the panel, down

towards the bottom. It’s not identified, but it’s also off by itself.”

Charlie looked around the left side of the control panel, his eyes straining to see in the relative

darkness of the cabin. Finally, he found a single toggle switch, “Got it. Do I just flip it?”

“That’s what he said.”

“Great.” Charlie flipped the switch, grimacing as the plane shuddered and stalled once again,

before seeming to gain its second breath and then evening out. “That seems to have fixed the

problem. Thanks tower.”

“No problem. Have a great rest of your flight. Tower out.”

“Everything okay?” Brad murmured for Charlie’s ears only.

“Yes. Everything’s fine. I just needed to switch the fuel tanks over, but we’re fine now.”

“Good.”

Charlie was grateful for the course adjustment Antonio had suggested a few minutes later. The

winds were even stronger than the first time he’d flown through the storm, and the lightning was

definitely worse farther north.

After a tense twenty minutes, the small seaplane finally emerged from the clouds and Charlie

was pleased to see the Florida coastline in the distance. “Almost home folks. Sit tight. We should

be on the ground in another twenty minutes or so. You hanging in there, Cindy?”

A weak voice answered, “Yes, sir. I don’t feel all that well though.”

“I know that, sweetheart. There are going to be some medical people at the marina when we land

to help take care of you and getting you feeling good again.”

“Thank you,” murmured Brad as he turned his head and smiled at his daughter.

Charlie used his flaps to slow his speed, and as he’d done numerous times before, set the

seaplane down gently on the calm surface of the Halifax River. He quickly taxied the plane over

to his berth, and then eased it into place.

“Sit tight for a minute while I get the pontoons secured.” Charlie exited the plane, deftly putting

the heavy ropes around the pontoons and then pulling them tight. Once the plane was secure, he

stepped to the front of the plane and waved to the emergency personnel who were patiently

waiting at the top of the dock.

Once he saw them start heading towards the plane, he opened the back door of the plane and

began removing luggage. Once a pathway was cleared, he assisted the young two children out of

the plane and then stepped back so that Brad could help his wife and ill daughter out as well.

Charlie loaded up their luggage onto a rolling cart while the ambulance personnel evaluated

Cindy briefly and started an IV of fluids. They then strapped her to a rolling gurney and took her

back to their waiting ambulance. Mrs. Mutchler accompanied her sick daughter, as Brad gathered

up his remaining two children and headed for the parking lot with their luggage.

Before leaving Charlie and the plane, he clasped Charlie’s hand tightly, “I know I’ve already

said it, but it bears repeating. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. I don’t know

what I would have done if you hadn’t been able to come get us today.”

“No thanks are needed. I hope your daughter makes a speedy recovery.”

Brad shook his hand one last time and then headed to where a taxi was currently waiting. Charlie

turned back to the borrowed plane and completed his post-flight checklist. A few minutes later

he headed towards the parking lot himself.

The taxi carrying Brad Mutchler and his family was just pulling away, and that’s when Charlie

noticed his brother Stephen leaning against his vehicle. Stephen made no effort to approach him;

he simply waited for Charlie to cross the short distance.

"Hey Stephen, how are you doing today? I just now noticed you standing there."

"Hey Charlie. I overheard that man telling the taxi driver his story. That was quite an effort on

your part to get that girl back to town so quickly.”

Charlie looked at his brother, picking up on something unusual, but not quite sure what it was.

“Why are you here? Is everything okay at home?”

"Charlie, there's something I want to talk to you about."

"Sure Stephen, what's up?"

Stephen shook his head, "Let's head back to your house. I think it'll be better if I talk to you

there."

Charlie could hear the somberness in Stephen’s voice, and he gave him a narrowed eye look as

they crossed the street and headed for his small house. As they approached the small bungalow

style home, he noticed his car was parked at the curb, but no lights had been turned on inside yet.

As he pushed open the back door, he noticed the smell of dinner cooking was also missing, as

was the exuberant welcome he normally received from Sarah. Something was off, but he wasn’t

sure what it was.

As Charlie dropped his bag off in the kitchen, he turned to Stephen and asked, “So, what did you

want to talk to me about?”

Stephen ignored him, heading for the living room and taking a seat on the couch. “Charlie, come

sit down.”

Charlie did as he was asked, but alarms bells were starting to go off in his head. “Stephen, what’s

going on?”

Stephen sat there for a few moments in silence and then he began to speak in a quiet, yet pain-

filled voice, "Charlie, this pains me very much, but there's something I need to tell you. We lost

Mary Lou and Sarah today."

Chapter 7

The air left the room. Charlie sat there stunned, not fully comprehending what Stephen had just

said. "What do you mean we lost them? I don't understand, Stephen."

Stephen’s eye’s filled with tears, but before he could explain himself, their parents knocked on

the back door and entered the small house. Charlie took one look at his mother and knew

something horrible had happened. His mother, Erin, had been crying, and her eyes were filled

with a deeper sorrow than Charlie could ever remember seeing in them before.

Turning back to Stephen, he leveled him with a hard stare, “What’s happened? How did we lose

Mary Lou and Sarah?”

"Charlie, both Mary Lou and Sarah were hit by a car this afternoon. Mary Lou died instantly, and

Sarah died later at the hospital. I am so sorry to have to tell you this. There are no words..."

Charlie stopped listening, even though his eyes registered his brother was still talking. His Mary

Lou had been killed? And Sarah had died at the hospital?

“Honey, we’re so very sorry,” his mother offered, wrapping an arm around his shoulders in an

act of comfort. She was openly crying at this time, as were his father and brother.

Charlie looked at each of them, the finality of their words finally reaching him and the emotions

bursting forth as he began to cry, his shoulders shaking as his body was wracked in sorrow.

“Mary Lou…”

“She’s gone, Charlie. The emergency personnel said she died instantly.”

“How?” he stuttered out, still having a hard time believing that the beautiful wife and daughter

he’d spent the morning with were gone. It didn’t seem possible that while he’d been off helping

to save another man’s daughter, his own wife and daughter could be taken away from him!

“They were hit by a vehicle crossing the street on their way back from the beach.” Stephen

paused and then softly added, “The driver was drunk.”

“What?!” Charlie asked, anger helping him push back the sorrow.

“The driver was drunk. He passed out behind the wheel after hitting them, and the police found

him still sitting in his car when they arrived on the scene. He didn’t even try to deny it.”

“Where is he now?” Charlie asked, anger causing him to fist his hands and seriously think about

finding the man and making him pay for his actions.

“The police have him in custody.”

“I need…I…,” Charlie broke off, knowing there was probably something he needed to do, but

unable to focus his mind.

Charlie pushed himself up from the couch and slammed his way out the backyard. He felt like

screaming and hitting things. He looked at the toys scattered across the back patio, and the

flowers that were just beginning to bloom. Everywhere he looked, he saw his wife and daughter!

How can they just be gone?!

His family members followed him outside, his mother trying to wrap him in a hug, but Charlie

was angry and getting angrier as each minute passed.

“Why don’t you come home with us this evening?” his father offered.

“Yes, Charlie. Come home with us tonight.” His mother gave him a soft smile, but Charlie

wasn’t in the frame of mind to return it.

Steeling his spine, he looked them in the eyes, “Thank you for coming to tell me. I…I know I

need to…”

Erin Flanigan shook her head, “You don’t need to do anything right now, but give yourself time

to grieve. Your father and I will gladly help with the funeral arrangements.”

“Fine. I think I just want to be alone for a while.” Charlie didn’t wait for anyone to agree with

him, he re-entered the house through the back door, pulling the shades as he attempted to shut

out the cruel world beyond.

His parents watched his retreat and his mother made to follow him, but Stephen stopped them

both. “I’ll go. If you could speak to the hospital and begin the funeral arrangements, I know

Charlie would really appreciate.”

“I need to talk to him…”

“No, Erin. Let Stephen go. Charlie’s hurting, and I would imagine he’s already looking for a

bottle to help drown out the pain.”

“That’s not the answer,” she told both her husband and her son.

“We know that, but he doesn’t need to hear that from his mother right now.”

Stephen thought about that for a minute and then shook his head, “No. Not from his mother, but

he’s definitely going to hear about it from me! I’m going back in there and I’ll keep an eye on

him.”

“Are you sure son?”

“Yes. Go on home and let me know if you need anything from me or Charlie. I’ll make sure he

makes it to the funeral on time.”

Erin hugged her other son, “He’s lucky to have you for a brother. Call if you need us.”

“I will. You know I will.”

Chapter 8

Stephen entered the house, shutting the door and turning on lights as he went looking for his

brother. He found him, a bottle of Scotch clasped in his hands, standing in the doorway to

Sarah’s bedroom.

Charlie had tears running unchecked down his cheeks, and when he heard Stephen approach, he

took a drink of the alcohol, daring Stephen to challenge his actions.

“I thought I told you I wanted to be alone?” Charlie asked in a surly voice.

“You did. I just didn’t listen,” Stephen informed him, leaning against the hallway wall and

watching Charlie without expression.

“Well, listen now. Leave! I want to be alone!”

Stephen shook his head, “Not going to happen, so you might as well get used to it.”

Charlie cursed low under his breath, causing Stephen to raise his eyebrows. Charlie and Stephen

had been raised by their God-fearing momma, and cursing and crude language hadn’t been

tolerated. As adults, they had adhered to the rules they’d grown up with, and neither man was

given to using coarse language. Except in times of extreme stress, it would seem!

“It’s not fair!”

“No. It surely isn’t,” Stephen agreed.

“I might as well tell you I plan on drinking until I pass out.”

Stephen had already surmised as much, “Well then, I suggest we head back into the living room

so that you don’t wind up spending the night on the floor when you collapse. I’m not lifting your

sorry carcass off the floor.” The comment had been an attempt at trying to dissuade Charlie from

following through on his actions, but when he headed for the couch and plopped down on it with

the bottle still clasped in his hands, Stephen realized his brother was set on this particular course.

Stephen wasn’t one to drown his sorrows in alcohol, and prior to going off to war; Charlie hadn’t

been like that either. It hadn’t escaped Stephen’s attention that Charlie had been resorting to

alcohol as a means of coping with his return to civilian life. He didn’t agree with that, but he also

knew that now was not the time to debate the issue with his brother.

Charlie was hurting, and if the alcohol helped dull that pain, even temporarily, Stephen was

willing to allow it. For now!

*****

Two days later, Stephen helped a hung over Charlie from the passenger seat of his vehicle and

walked beside him as they crossed the damp grass of the cemetery. Erin had taken care of the

funeral arrangements, arranging for a small graveside service in lieu of a larger funeral mass

proceeding.

The Flanigans had been very concerned that Charlie was trying to drink away reality, but

Stephen had assured them a wake-up call was coming. He just wanted to wait until after the

funeral was over before he delivered it.

For the last two days, Charlie had remained partially drunk at all times, only stopping to eat

when Stephen threatened to take his bottle away. He’d been badgered into showering this

morning, and Stephen had laid out his best suit, but Charlie had scoffed at the uptight outfit,

instead donning his wife’s favorite Hawaiian shirt – an ivory shirt with beautiful flowers

embroidered along the sleeves, collar, and hem.

It was tame compared to his other shirts, but it had been Mary Lou’s favorite – and he knew that

after today, he would never wear it again. In fact, he’d already decided as he’d left his home, that

he would be packing all of his wife’s and daughter’s belongings away after the funeral. He just

couldn’t bear to see reminders of them everywhere – every day for the rest of his life!

As the funeral proceedings ended, Charlie couldn’t bring himself to toss dirt on the caskets of his

beloved wife and daughter. Instead, he pulled two red roses from one of the arrangements,

tossing them into the gravesites as tears blurred his vision.

“Goodbye my love. I will miss you forever,” he told his wife.

When he came to his daughter’s gravesite, all he could do was stand at the edge and let the tears

flow. There were no words to tell his four-year old little girl how much he was going to miss

seeing her grow up. How much he was going to miss hearing her laughter ring out through the

house….

His shoulders shaking, he allowed his brother to lead him away from the grave and drive him

home. He looked out the window as they made the short drive back to his house, the tears having

dried up and his resolve taking its place.

Grabbing some empty boxes from the storage shed, he began in Sarah’s bedroom. Tossing

everything into boxes and then taping them up and taking them out to the shed. He continued to

do so, until everything in her bedroom had been removed.

When he ran out of boxes, Stephen showed what a good brother he was and went out and found

more. He didn’t even think about drinking while he was loading the boxes, anger was driving

him onward.

When all of their belongings had been removed from the house, including the pictures that had

once adorned the walls and mantle, he settled on the couch and reached for the half-full bottle of

Scotch sitting there.

“Before you start drinking, I have something you might want to take a look at.”

Charlie shook his head, “There’s nothing you could show me that would keep me from drinking

this.” He held up the bottle so there was no mistake about what he was doing.

“I’ll take that risk. Read this.” Stephen handed him a manila folder.

Charlie opened it and immediately realized he was looking at a copy of the police report that had

been taken after the accident. He read about the location of the scene, and the officer’s initial

findings upon arriving at the scene.

When he came to the part about the officer finding his dead wife, he couldn’t stop the tears as

they began to flow. He read about how they had transported his daughter to the hospital, and how

the doctors there had tried to save her, but she had died on the operating table two hours later.

Then he came to the arrest and interrogation of the driver. He was a fifty-two year old man from

St. Augustine, a small coastal town north of Daytona Beach. Charlie read his complete

confession, including the man’s own confession that he had spent the night before and morning

drinking in an attempt to escape from the reality of his life.

The similarity to his own actions wasn’t lost on Charlie and he found himself crying for more

than the loss of his family. “God, Stephen, this could be me in this report!” he cried in remorse.

Charlie couldn’t even count the times he’d gone to the bar and gotten drunk and then driven

himself home. It could have easily been him behind the wheel of that car. It could have been him

that had destroyed someone else’s life.

Stephen saw the change come over his brother and sat down next to him on the couch. He

wrapped an arm around his shoulder, feeling his own tears begin as Charlie turned into his

embrace and sobbed into his shoulder. He cried for the loss of his wife. He cried for the loss of

his daughter. He cried for the loss of his self-control and the destructive force of alcohol he had

allowed to take over his life.

“Stephen, you have to help me. Please. Help me figure out a way to stop. I don’t want to be like

that man. I don’t want to destroy someone else’s life!” Charlie continued to sob out his sorrow,

the irony of his circumstances not being lost on him at all!

Stephen comforted him as best as he could, promising him he would do everything in his power

to help Charlie heal. Stephen had already begun researching various programs designed to help

people stop drinking. In fact, he had arranged for Charlie to meet with a man named Bob early

the next morning.

A new organization, dedicated to helping people recover from alcohol abuse had started a new

chapter in the Daytona Beach area, and they were already impacting people’s lives in huge ways.

Charlie had taken the first step, towards gaining control of the rest of life back, and Stephen was

committed to seeing him succeed. His brother deserved it!

Chapter 9

Two days later, Charlie’s house…

The phone rang and Charlie answered it, hoping it was Stephen calling to tell him when he was

coming to get him. With Stephen’s help, Charlie had joined a group called Alcoholics

Anonymous and had been attending meetings every day since the funeral. Stephen had offered to

attend the first few meetings with him, and Charlie had eagerly taken him up on his offer.

His sponsor was a man named Bob who was a recovering alcoholic himself, and had pulled no

punches when he’d first met Charlie. He’d sympathized with him over the loss of his family, but

had then reminded him that they had died – he had not!

“Hello?”

“Mr. Flanigan? Charlie?”

“Yes, this is Charlie. Who is this?”

“This is Brad Mutchler. I just wanted to let you know that the doctors expect Cindy to make a

full recovery and it’s all thanks to you. I debated about calling, and I know you’re probably

grieving for your own family, but I wanted you to know that your sacrifice in coming to get us

wasn’t wasted.”

Charlie swallowed back the tears that threatened to start again. He had a hard time being thankful

for anything these days, but he was glad that the Mutchler girl was going to be okay. “Thanks for

calling,” was all he could muster.

“We’re all very sorry about your wife and daughter. Please accept our condolences.”

“Thank you,” Charlie managed to whisper.

“That’s all I called for. Our prayers are with you.”

Charlie hung up the phone, there being nothing else to say. The Mutchler girl was going to be

fine. His own wife and daughter would never be fine again. But as his new sponsor had reminded

him the afternoon before, there was no guarantee that his wife and child would have survived if

Charlie had been there with them.

There were no guarantees in this life. One had to play the hand they were dealt to the best of

their ability. And the trials of life were designed to make one stronger and wiser in the long run.

Charlie knew he had a lot of work to do, and he was determined to not become another name in

another police report. He was going to gain control of his life and then find some way to begin to

understand how God figured in all of this.

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