Twenty-Six
Tuesday, March 23, 1:46 P.M. CST
Parrot Tree Marina
Thomas arrived back at the Aggressor to find Mel practicing his Vovinam forms. The Vietnamese martial art reminded Mel of his late wife, and as such had become almost a religion to him. Thomas watched silently until Mel finished his forms, plopped into a camping chair, and lit up a cigar, looking rather self-righteous about it.
Thomas shook his head and tossed his friend the bottle of blood pressure meds. “You know those can kill you, right?”
“You mean the meds or the cigar, son?” Mel laughed and blew out smoke. “This right here is a Cuban—Dewayne gave it to me. The meds keep me alive, but the cigars make life worth living. What if I wait to smoke it, but I die tomorrow? What a waste.”
Thomas plopped down near Mel. “If yo
