single women normally run in pairs, so a wingman was essential. “You get synergistic effects from teamwork: mass firepower; different sensors looking in different places; and better self-protection.” For Rex, everything related to the kill—always striking first, leaving Ryan to pick-up the “sister ship”—one of his many code phrases. With his target acquired, Rex announced “YOYO,” meaning, You’re On Your Own. Ryan’s underdeveloped social skills and reserved personality made Rex shine which he used to his full advantage.
Ryan strutted into the den, eager to share his good news with Rex. “You won’t believe this! Did I ever tell you about Keri Hart?”
Sprawled out on the sofa, half-way through his first beer, Rex said. “Not sure.”
“Hang on.” Ryan rushed off to his bedroom, returning with a picture. “Check it out.”
“Gnarly, dude! This girl looks like she’s in high school. Who's that punk with her?” He brought the picture closer to his face. “Is that you ?” He laughed. “You look like you’re twelve!” He handed it back to Ryan. “Dude, you can do better than that.”
“You don’t understand.” Ryan stared at the picture.
“Let me see her again.” Rex looked at the photo for a minute. “I guess…put a few years on her…it’s possible. Got a better picture?” He took a gulp from his can of beer, followed by an unrestrained belch.
“No, that’s it. I haven’t seen her since we split up back in high school.”
“Hey, dude, you'd better be careful. No telling what she looks like now. She could be bald, bucktoothed, and the size of a baby whale—a real swamp donkey.”
“You’re crazy. I’m sure she’s drop-dead gorgeous.”
“Not worth the chance. Too many babes out there for you to waste your time thinking about some woman you might not be able to recognize on a beach full of sea lions. Yo, mate, let me grab my harpoon.”
“Funny. I thought I might try to contact her,” Ryan said.
“Man, what am I going to do with you? I hope I don’t have to rescue you from yourself. Really, dude, I think you’re headed for the rocks.”
“Can’t hurt to write her a letter.”
“Just remember, the Rexter tried to warn you.” Rex picked up the TV remote and started surfing.
Ryan took the photo back to his room, returned with his letter to Keri and dropped it on top of a stack of outgoing mail by the door. “I’m going for a jog. You want to come?”
“I’m noodled. I need to fuel up for tonight. You are going out tonight, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I’ll go.”
“Awesome! I’m afraid to leave you home alone with that picture. I’d have to hide all the lube.” He chuckled. “No telling what you might do.”
“Funny.”
“Yo! Dude! Before you go, how ‘bout grabbing me a brew.”
Ryan detoured back to the kitchen, pulled a can of beer from the fridge and handed it to Rex. “Enjoy.”
“S’later, brah,” Rex said.
* * *
When Ryan closed the door, Rex popped up off the sofa and headed for the stack of outgoing mail by the front door. He grabbed the envelope addressed to Keri Hart. With a sharp knife, he surgically opened it, slipped the letter out, and studied it. “Ryan…Ryan. Dude, I can’t let you do it to yourself. If you get mixed up with this chick, I’ll lose my wingman.”
He took the letter to his bedroom and rolled a fresh piece of paper into his typewriter. Trying to duplicate Ryan’s handwriting would be too risky. With a small bit of doctoring, he spun-out a letter guaranteed to get the job done. “Don’t worry, dude, I got your back.”
The letter read:
Friday , May 13 , 1983
Keri ,
It’s been a long time . I learned from mom you're living in Florida . She tells me you're a flight attendant . Sounds exciting . I also hope to be hired by the airlines once I complete my commitment to the Navy . Probably next summer .
Have you met anyone special ? I’m sure , by now , you have . I met a wonderful woman here in
Ryan strutted into the den, eager to share his good news with Rex. “You won’t believe this! Did I ever tell you about Keri Hart?”
Sprawled out on the sofa, half-way through his first beer, Rex said. “Not sure.”
“Hang on.” Ryan rushed off to his bedroom, returning with a picture. “Check it out.”
“Gnarly, dude! This girl looks like she’s in high school. Who's that punk with her?” He brought the picture closer to his face. “Is that you ?” He laughed. “You look like you’re twelve!” He handed it back to Ryan. “Dude, you can do better than that.”
“You don’t understand.” Ryan stared at the picture.
“Let me see her again.” Rex looked at the photo for a minute. “I guess…put a few years on her…it’s possible. Got a better picture?” He took a gulp from his can of beer, followed by an unrestrained belch.
“No, that’s it. I haven’t seen her since we split up back in high school.”
“Hey, dude, you'd better be careful. No telling what she looks like now. She could be bald, bucktoothed, and the size of a baby whale—a real swamp donkey.”
“You’re crazy. I’m sure she’s drop-dead gorgeous.”
“Not worth the chance. Too many babes out there for you to waste your time thinking about some woman you might not be able to recognize on a beach full of sea lions. Yo, mate, let me grab my harpoon.”
“Funny. I thought I might try to contact her,” Ryan said.
“Man, what am I going to do with you? I hope I don’t have to rescue you from yourself. Really, dude, I think you’re headed for the rocks.”
“Can’t hurt to write her a letter.”
“Just remember, the Rexter tried to warn you.” Rex picked up the TV remote and started surfing.
Ryan took the photo back to his room, returned with his letter to Keri and dropped it on top of a stack of outgoing mail by the door. “I’m going for a jog. You want to come?”
“I’m noodled. I need to fuel up for tonight. You are going out tonight, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I’ll go.”
“Awesome! I’m afraid to leave you home alone with that picture. I’d have to hide all the lube.” He chuckled. “No telling what you might do.”
“Funny.”
“Yo! Dude! Before you go, how ‘bout grabbing me a brew.”
Ryan detoured back to the kitchen, pulled a can of beer from the fridge and handed it to Rex. “Enjoy.”
“S’later, brah,” Rex said.
* * *
When Ryan closed the door, Rex popped up off the sofa and headed for the stack of outgoing mail by the front door. He grabbed the envelope addressed to Keri Hart. With a sharp knife, he surgically opened it, slipped the letter out, and studied it. “Ryan…Ryan. Dude, I can’t let you do it to yourself. If you get mixed up with this chick, I’ll lose my wingman.”
He took the letter to his bedroom and rolled a fresh piece of paper into his typewriter. Trying to duplicate Ryan’s handwriting would be too risky. With a small bit of doctoring, he spun-out a letter guaranteed to get the job done. “Don’t worry, dude, I got your back.”
The letter read:
Friday , May 13 , 1983
Keri ,
It’s been a long time . I learned from mom you're living in Florida . She tells me you're a flight attendant . Sounds exciting . I also hope to be hired by the airlines once I complete my commitment to the Navy . Probably next summer .
Have you met anyone special ? I’m sure , by now , you have . I met a wonderful woman here in
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