Lionel and the Fishing Boat

Lionel sighed and twitched before her, jerking the back of his truck down to pull the bag forward. Sloppy work, sloppy work, he said. There were faces in both trucks looking out at her. She stayed up top that afternoon. The sky was changing color and looked like something yawning up out of a place it had been stuck. When she came out onto the stone ridge, it was night and the beach was empty. But then there was the sound, murmuring behind her of a truck riding the beach. It was pulling a dead weight behind it, a fishing boat, a hulking carriage wrecked and staved. Yes, she could hear their rum