"Crash position! Crash position!" Andy yelled over the intercom as he cut the throttles back to flight idle, shoved the collective all the way down and glided the helicopter with nothing but air moving up through the blades to keep the helicopter from dropping like an anvil.

There was nothing special about deliberately cutting the throttles midair. Andy practiced autorotations regularly and not only was good at them, but he loved the excitement of landing a four-ton machine without the help of its engines. Another little trick he liked was to wait until he was thirty feet off the ground before pulling in power again and flying off, which was what he did now, and suddenly the helicopter was thundering into a high performance takeoff that shot it straight up into the night. At five hundred feet, Andy cut back the throttles again and smiled at Hammer as the warning bells began screaming again and he started down in yet another autorotation. He went through this perilous routine three more times for good measure, and was not at all surprised when he finally lowered the landing gear and set down that Smoke, Cuda, and Possum were ashen and doubled over in fetal positions, and Unique was on the floor, out cold.

"I'll get Smoke, you get the girl!" Andy yelled at Hammer as they flung open the back doors while the blades turned and rotorwash gusted like a gale. "Watch her! She's our slasher!"

Andy pointed his pistol at Smoke, who was dazed and had long since lost his gun. Andy yanked the monster out of the cabin and tossed him on the tarmac like a sack of rags while Hammer grabbed Unique. The sea of candles drifted around them in a circle as soldiers rushed over to see what the hell was going on.

"Pirates!" Andy announced to the stunned Islanders as he snapped handcuffs on Smoke's wrists and Hammer Flexcuffed Unique's ankles and her hands behind her back as she drifted in and out of consciousness and drooled.

"I'm sorry, " Andy said to the soldiers. "I had to violate your restricted areas because I was being held at gunpoint as I suppose you determined from the code I squawked. If you wouldn't mind helping me by grabbing that other pirate out of the back, the one who's throwing up in a bag? But leave the smaller fellow alone. His name is Jeremiah Little and he's an innocent hostage. We'll take him back to Virginia with us. "

"I know four-thirties. Want me to shut her down for ya?" one of the soldiers asked.

"Thanks, " Andy replied as Popeye covered Hammer's face with kisses, and Dr. Faux crept near and gave Hammer an insincere, patronizing pat on her black-leather-covered back.

"I don't know what happened, exactly, but I certainly am glad your dog is all right. Isn't it amazing how pets are like children? I know how much I love my cats. If you don't mind, " Dr. Faux said to Hammer, "I think it best I ride back to Virginia with you. I assume you're leaving right away?"

"Yass, cart him away!" commanded Reverend

Crockett. "We don't want neither contact with him ever. Warrant him!"

"No!" The island's entire population talked backward in unison, their voices rising above rotorwash and the chop-chopping of slowing blades. "Return him to the main!" they began to chant.

 

Well, race fans, what a night!

I suppose the bad news is there was no Tory Treasure, or at least not in the spot marked by the yellow buoy, which apparently had done nothing but drift with the bay's current until the water got shallower and the crab pot finally got snagged on eel grass about a mile off the Virginia shore. But what matters is the only treasure the Islanders cared about was Fonny Boy, and way to go, Officer Reggie, for singlehandedly catching the escaped inmates!

But how about our boy Donny? Now, I'm sorry to say I was caught up on a case last night and missed the race, but I watched TV and the endless replays of his Big Move when he was running side by side with No. 4 and an accident on Turn 4 took out the No. 33 Chevy and caused a seven-lap caution with a restart on lap 94. Darned if Donny didn't take advantage of a perilous situation by making his Big Move.

That's right, sports fans. You saw him get off the gas and get on the brakes, just like he's done before, and then he just bulleted past No. 4 on the outside of the back straightaway, and he stayed with it the rest of the race.

"I just dug deep inside me, " an exuberant Donny Brett said as he took a slug of champagne. "I just tried to enjoy it again and not worry so much about losing, you know? And I want to thank that cop who took the time to talk to me in my trailer. I don't know your name, but hey, thanks, man. And I want to tell everybody out there the same thing he told me. It's not about being good, it's about knowing when to make your move. "

And now it's time for me to make my Big Move and say to you, my faithful readers, that there's a time to speak and a time to be silent. I'm going to sign off now, and this will be my last essay. Maybe I'll be back one day, but I don't know. So much has happened lately and there is a lot for me to finish up and a lot to figure out.

I will continue to welcome your e-mails and appreciate all you do to enlighten me and make the world a better place. But if I don't answer you, please don't feel bad or think I don't care. Remember the Golden Rule, and that even the smallest life and everything on this earth has a story, if only we take time to listen.

Be careful out there!