three ladies with no tulley

three ladies with no tulley

fiction
edward w pritchard


Steamy and clammy down at the beach, the first day of fishing season began at midnight. My girl Martinique called me wanting special attention being slightly peculiar because of the tides.

Heavens no, my girl, its the first night of fishing season, tonight the Tulley's run. I'll take my dingy to Swenson's marina and buy bait and Old Baily and drink and fish all night with me mates. In the morning I will bring you fresh Tulley enough for three days.

No, no shouted Martinique into the phone. I'll call Randy O'Sullivan or Barney Crayford. I need you tonight. Come timely to me.

Laugh did I. See you in the morning I exclaimed. All the men of the village will be at sea tonight. The Tulley's will run. The wait will be good for you, old horse. I see you in the morning.

About two AM on a dark and stormy sea, instigator Barney Crayford rowed along side my boat. Barney says for all to hear, he sees Martinique over at Shatterstown tavern at ten PM sizing up the college boys down from New Jersey. Barney says then at 11:30  Martinique is over at Busby's drinking double banana shooters with two sorority girls, philosophy majors both, from Connecticut. Later Barney tells, he saw Martinique with those two lasses walking arm in arm in the hotel district.

I beat it up and down the coast, North to Atlantic City and South to Ocean side looking for M.

Imagine, what could three ladies do at the shore with no Tulley for the night?