Sunshine Skyway

By Niles Reddick

We didn't fall into Tampa Bay and die like the thirty-five others had when the freighter hit one of the concrete support pylons and pieces of concrete and steel plummeted into the dark waters below along with vehicles and a bus full, but we saw the remnants when we started up the temporary metal bridge in our VW bus, our tires whining loudly as if they didn't want to climb almost forty stories above the bay any more than we did. My siblings and I jumped in the floorboard as if avoiding the view would make it disappear like the monsters in our closets and under our bunk beds at night.

“Keep your eyes straight ahead and quit looking at the chunks of bridge and ship in the bay,” my mom demanded of my dad. “Did you hear me?”

“Why don't you shut the hell up,” he barked back. “I'm trying to concentrate. The damned wind could blow us off in this van. It's happened before.”

I whispered to my siblings: “Ya’ll better pray. Keep it up. Maybe we’ll make it.” I’d seen Jaws and knew sharks like him and many other creatures were just waiting on the full course of our McMillan family. It didn't matter who would be the appetizer, main course, or desert; it was a fate I didn't want or deserve. I hadn't even been kissed yet by Rebecca who had pigtails and freckles and sat in front of me in seventh grade pre-algebra. I'd sent spitballs in the air to the back of her head in fifth grade, spent sixth grade trying to improve upon my bad reputation, and had come to have fantasies about us making out behind the dumpster at recess. I needed more time.

“Slow down, for God sakes!”

“I'm under the limit and cars are riding my ass. This bus don’t have a lot of power. I’m just hoping the son-of-a-bitch doesn’t cut off and roll backwards.”

The bridge was only about four miles long, and the few minutes it took seemed like hours. When the tires on the metal touched concrete and felt smooth again, mom thanked God, asked if we were alright, and said she was hot. She told dad to open his window vent and she opened hers and we smelled the salt in the air as we drove on to our beach side hotel in Sarasota where the clear Gulf waters, shells, sand, and girls in bikinis made for a wonderful view. The girls looked way better than Rebecca in pre-algebra and took my mind off the Sunshine Skyway Bridge until we headed home to Virginia a week later.

THE END

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