Silver Linings

anything in her entire life, and now she was planning to participate in grand theft.
    “Look, lady, we can do a deal,” the man said urgently.
    He was interrupted by sounds out on the beach. He turned quickly to look at the boat.
    Mattie risked a quick glance and saw Hugh appear from the jungle on the far side of the clearing. He was holding his gun trained on a short, wiry little man.
    “Mattie?” Hugh spoke quietly as he neared her hiding place. “It's okay. You can come out now. Hurry, babe. We've got to get moving.”
    “Uh, Hugh, we have a problem here.”
    “What the hell?” And then Hugh was close enough to see the still-life scene of woman-seated-on-jungle-floor with-gun-pointed-at-very-large-man.
    But it was the short, wiry man who burst into a stream of abuse which he promptly hurled at the huge man Mattie was holding at gunpoint.
    “Goddamn your sorry ass, Gibbs. I knew you were gonna try for my boat. I damn well knew it.” The small man spat viciously into the sand. “You always was a slimy son of a bitch.”
    “That boat is just as much mine as yours, Rosey,” the big man retorted sullenly. “I knew you'd be plannin' to sneak off in it this mornin'. Some pal you turned out to be. All that garbage about how we was gonna get out of here together today. It was all bull. Well, you ain't goin' nowhere without me, you hear me?”
    “Gentlemen, please,” Hugh said, “restrain yourselves. This is neither the time nor the place for an argument.”
    “Oh, yeah? Says who?” The small man named Rosey glared up at him. “You ain't any better than Gibbs, here. Worse. You're plannin' to steal my boat, too, ain't ya?”
    “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.” Hugh looked at Mattie, who was still sitting on the ground. “Come on, babe. I'll keep an eye on Mutt and Jeff here. Take the bags down to the boat and get in. I'll be right with you.”
    “Now, see here, mister, you can't just take off and leave us here.” Rosey's voice started to rise into a wail.
    “That boat's ours. We need it to get off this island until things cool down. No tellin' what's happenin' here on Purgatory. It's a goddamned revolution or somethin'. We'll get our throats slit if we hang around.”
    “Keep your voice down or I'll slit your throats myself and save the revolutionaries the work.”
    The new and strangely terrifying lack of emotion in Hugh's voice rather than the threat itself had an electrifying effect not only on Mattie but on Gibbs and Rosey. The two men stared open-mouthed at Hugh. It was clear they believed every word.
    Hugh flicked an impatient glance at Mattie, who was getting unsteadily to her feet. “I said move, babe.”
    Very conscious of the heavy weight of the gun in her hand, Mattie edged around the massive Gibbs and started toward the beach. As she passed Hugh she glanced uneasily up at his set face. She thought again about what they were about to do. She started to speak, found she could not, cleared her throat, and tried again.
    “Uh, Hugh, this is their boat.”
    “Jesus, Mattie. Not now, okay? We'll discuss the ethics of the situation later. When we're ten miles out at sea. Move .”
    “I just meant maybe we should take Mr. Gibbs and Mr. Rosey with us. After all, they probably want off this island as badly as we do. And it is their boat.”
    Rosey and Gibbs turned their heads instantly to stare at her. They looked startled at first, and then a gleam appeared in the short man's eyes.
    “I can see that you're a real lady, ma'am. Lord knows why you're hangin' around with this scum,” Rosey said, nodding in Hugh's direction. “But I want you to know I sincerely appreciate your thinkin' of us in our moment o' crisis. Poor old Gibbs and me will probably be gutted like a couple of fish by the locals, but I want you to know our last thoughts will be of you. We surely do thank you, ma'am.”
    “Hell,” said Hugh. “Mattie, will you do as you're told before the idiots who are running this two-bit coup decide to come down here to take a morning swim and find us all standing around chatting?”
    “Like Rosey said, it's real sweet o' you to think of us, ma'am,” Gibbs whispered forlornly. “When they're slicin' us up for fish bait or hangin' us in front o' the post office, you can bet your sweet little, uh, backside, we'll sure be thinkin' o' your kindness. Like an angel, you are, ma'am. Just like a pure little angel.”
    “Move, damn it,” Hugh snapped.
    Mattie bit her lip. “I don't see why