Read The Heat Islands: A Doc Ford Novel for Free Online

reluctant student.
    Ford said. "Ah."
    "She was there, but I've known her since college. She still lives in Cambridge; teaches at the university—the one I went up to visit last month. Clear to Boston on a plane." Tomlinson had returned after a week, his behavior even more esoteric and preoccupied than usual—which was saying something for Tomlinson.
    "The one who wanted to marry you, you mean?"
    "Not marry me, just use me," Tomlinson said miserably. "That's right—she's the one. I'd forgotten. Now she shows up on my doorstep—what the hell's got into women?"
    "That's quite a thing to forget."
    "I was busy with the Zen retreat. You should have come. Very ... cleansing. About fourteen of us in a little room. Did a short sesshin—about two hours of meditation."
    "Two hours of sitting on the floor," Ford said. "And I missed it."
    "A good group. No breakthroughs, but a nice stillness; a nice clarity. Dr. Rocky Kaplan- sensei was the guest. Very damn spiritual. Then I went to Line Drive and used the pitching machine." Tomlinson was swinging an imaginary bat, head down, throwing his hands. "Finally got my stroke back. Really beat piss out of the ball."
    Dr. Rocky Kaplan- sensei ? Ford was tempted to ask, but didn't want to risk a lengthy explanation. Instead, he said, "I'm going to the marina for a beer. You have time?"
    "You? A beer? Sure. I never understood why you quit in the first place."
    Ford said, "Let me get some clothes and we'll go." Tomlinson followed him up into the house, talking right along, saying Ford was starting to look a little gaunt; a little flushed; concerned until he heard about the workout with Dewey Nye: four-mile run, mile swim in the bay, plus the other stuff.
    Tomlinson said, "I thought she had a boyfriend. What's-his-name, the rich kid."
    Ford said, "As of yesterday, she doesn't. As of today, she still doesn't. I just want to get back into shape, and she's helping. Besides, I'm at least ten, twelve years older than her. And she's pushy."
    "You were always running, swimming—everything before you met her."
    Ford said. "So?"
    Nodding, smiling, twisting his hair with his fingers, Tomlinson said, "Three months ago. maybe less, you meet this pretty woman—on a golf course or something, right? Dewey."
    "She was golfing, I was fishing one of the lakes, trying to get a baby tarpon. Right. 'Bout three months."
    "Within a week of meeting her, you quit drinking beer. You never drank more than three a day, but you gave it up. Every night, I sit there on my boat, I look over here, and you're doing pull-ups. You're doing sit-ups. Now you take a breath. I can see your ribs. You've lost weight. There's a reason. And you're letting your hair grow longer. High time, I might add."
    Ford owned five shirts, three pairs of long pants, and a half dozen sets of T-shirts and shorts. He said, "All this logic, Tomlinson—doesn't it make you thirsty?" as he searched through the neat stack of clothes.
    He selected faded gray shorts and a blue denim shirt washed until it felt like silk, then slid on a pair of worn leather sandals from Guatemala as he said, "I quit beer because it was getting to feel like a habit. And I work out because I feel like crap if I don't. There are all kinds of ways the human body adapts to its role in an industrialized society—none good. So I choose not to adapt. A conscious decision."
    "Industrialized society— right. Human adaptation." Tomlinson was shaking his head, accepting none of it, making Ford grin when he said, "Plumage, man. That's what you're doing. Brightening up the colors. Toning up the package for a mating display. And I've seen the way that girl looks at you."
    "Oh, Lordy."
    Tomlinson said, "If you ever need to borrow this pretty shirt of mine—"
    Ford said. "I know, I know."
     
    On the docks. Captain Nels was saying. "That jerk, that's who won the tarpon tournament. Captain Goof. The psycho liar. You know the guy. Everybody's buddy." Captain Nels was hosing out his boat,