Billy Presser was not an imposing figure. Though over six foot tall with the physique of a runner, his posture was that of a man who had been abused by life. With his shoulders hunched forward encompassing his weary horned-rim bespectacled face, he seemed like a man bored with the idea of life itself. He was, however, contrary to appearance, a man who could find enough happiness to convince himself to continue forward.

Through the long and narrow path of his forty-year life, Billy had acquired a wife, previously married to his former boss, and inherited a now fifteen-year old son who resented him. He had worked for the same accounting firm in Ocala, Florida for eighteen years and lived in the same house for nearly as long. His vices were few and what occasional joy he felt came from his hobby, botanical drawing.

He began drawing when he was in college. Billy could remember the first sketch he ever drew. It was of a Nun Orchid, phaius tancarvilleae, which his roommate kept on the sill of their window in the dormitory. The drawing was detailed and accurate. Billy still smiled to himself when he remembered the praise he received from the friends who viewed it. He never pursued a career in art, but continued drawing flowers, especially orchids. He even entered his work into competitions, winning several over the course of his life. It was the promise of these few scattered moments of joy that kept him waking up in the mornings and kept him going on through the days.

One day, an unusual smile graced his face. Billy was exuberant, which in his case manifested itself in humming, a habit that annoyed his wife, Mia. She snapped at him to shut up, but on this rare occasion, he ignored her. He held the source of his joy tightly in his hand, a letter from the Botanical Artist Society, informing him that he had been awarded second place in its annual competition and inviting him to the awards ceremonies in Miami.

The weeks leading up to the awards became increasingly stressful. In his heart, Billy wanted to go alone, without the constant denigration and distain that Mia seemed to relish delivering and without the subtle contempt that her son, Morgan, was such a master at. Billy tried to make the convention sound as boring and unattractive as possible in the hope that his family would simply send him off alone, but this was not to be. It was almost as though his wife knew that letting him go alone would be a kindness of sorts, and kindness was an unacceptable option. Not only did she demand to accompany him with her son, but she also insisted on choosing the route of their journey.

Mia informed him that they would travel to Miami by way of Naples, an extremely wealthy community on Florida's western coast. When Billy asked why, she did not even give him the courtesy of an answer, replying only with that patronizing mantra, "Because I said so".

When the day set for departure finally arrived, Billy resigned himself to the situation. He had managed to convince himself that the weekend would be just as enjoyable in the company of his family as it would be alone. This delusion was quickly refuted. Any notion of a calm or even remotely satisfying weekend died within the first half hour of the drive. What he had imagined as a rewarding celebration of his dedication and talent as an artist became a denunciation of his character and a paean of his inadequacies, as soon as Mia opened her mouth.

The commencement of the initial siege began innocently enough. Billy was foolish enough to suggest that they might all have a good time.

"Miami is so over-rated...crowded and smelly," Mia said huffily. "Anyplace else on the coast would be better."

"But Honey, that's where the conference is," Billy said meekly.

"It's just your stupid art thing. It's not like you're a real artist. Your scribbles aren't worth anything. Look at Thomas Kinkade, now there's a real artist. He's a millionaire a hundred times over."

"Yeah, a dead alcoholic success story." Billy said bitterly, regretting his response as soon as it left his mouth.

This was all the provocation Mia needed, "Don't you get wise with me! If you spent half as much time trying to move up the ladder at your firm as you do wasting it on your scribbles, you'd be a partner by now. We'd have a nice car instead of this piece of crap. I have to put up with your failure. I'm the one who suffers...me and Morgan, just because you're a loser."

"Good burn, mom! You tell him." Morgan joined in.

"Be quiet Morgan," Billy snapped, "this is between your mom and me."

"Whatever." Morgan said while flipping Billy the bird from the back seat.

"Don't you dare tell my son to shut up!" Mia chimed in, "You have no say over him, he's mine, not yours. Just drive. Why I married you, I'll never know."

"Because God hates me for some reason," Billy thought to himself," because God hates me and death would be too easy."

An uncomfortable quiet followed for the next hour. Billy knew better than to say anything about anything. Mia glared out the side window, turning forward only to turn on the radio to tune it to The Okeechobee Evangelical Hour. Billy felt his anger rise. She knows how much I hate this bombastic babble. He clenched his jaw and tightened his grip on the wheel until his hands hurt, but didn't say a word.

It wasn't until they were twenty minutes outside of Naples that he finally spoke again. A full hour of hell-fire preachers and off-key singers had taken their toll. Billy felt drained and too exhausted to be angry. Whatever wrath he had felt at Mia's assault on his pride and self-worth had buried itself once more, deep within the lockbox of his soul.

Billy turned his head toward his wife. "Why did you want to come through Naples?"

A thin smile planted itself on Mia's lips, "We're going to visit Earl, of course."

"We're visiting Dad?" Morgan shouted loudly from behind Billy's seat. "Cool!"

It felt like someone had driven an ice-pick into Billy's brain. He went slack-jawed in disbelief. "Why the hell would you want to see Earl? He never calls you or Morgan...he hasn't contacted you in a year."

"That's because he hates you. We're visiting him and that's that. I want Morgan to see how a successful man lives. I should never have left him."

"He slept with every woman in the office! He got Stella pregnant while she was his assistant. He's a drunk."

"I can see now that he was a powerful man with needs," Mia said matter-of-factly. "Just because he had manly urges doesn't mean he didn't love me."

"He told you...in front of a dozen people...that he didn't love you. He called you a cow, for chrissakes!"

"Shut up!" Mia screeched. "You're jealous of his ambition and success. While you're were wasting your time scribbling, he was making a fortune."

"He's a crook, he's under indictment for stealing money from retirees."

Mia slapped Billy in the head, "I said shut up. Don't you dare badmouth Morgan's father in front of him. Earl is so much better than you and you can't stand it. So he took a little money, so what? Those crones don't need it."

Mia tried calming herself to no avail. "Now drive to his house and don't say another word!"

"I have no idea where he lives." Billy protested.

"Worthless," Mia muttered, as she dug through her purse. She retrieved a slip of paper and smiled. "I have his number. Let's get some lunch and I'll call him and get the address."

"KFC!" Morgan shouted. Billy hated chicken, but didn't say a word, choosing instead to pull off the highway and into the parking lot of the Colonel's restaurant in sullen silence.

Once inside, Morgan quickly ordered a large bucket of deep fried fowl which only he began to eat. Billy quietly ate some biscuits and mashed potatoes and Mia was on the phone, far too invested in her conversation to bother with food. After ten minutes she put away her phone and delicately picked up a drumstick, tearing at it with a look of smug satisfaction on her face. She addressed her son who was hungrily gnawing on his fourth piece of breast meat.

"Well," she said in a lilting tone, "good news, bad news. I spoke to his housekeeper," Mia reached over and cupped Morgan's hand, "He has a housekeeper...and a gardener! Anyway, he won't be back until Sunday," she cast a disdainful glance toward Billy, "so I suppose we can go to your little thing till then, but the good news is he just got divorced." She became almost giddy.  "I knew no one could measure up to me...or you, Morgan. We'll surprise him when he gets back!"

"He'll be surprised, all right," Billy muttered.

"I wasn't talking to you. When he takes me back, I'll take everything you have...not that you've got anything worthwhile, but you need a lesson on how to treat a woman."

"And when he doesn't take you back?"

"Don't be ridiculous, you bitter little man. You just think how miserable you'll be without me...think about it while drive we to Miami. Think about it hard!"

Billy smiled for the first time in hours.

Billy continued the drive in silence. He would not be baited into conversation and only replied to direct questions. It seemed a good strategy. His stomach was churning and the thought of having his entire existence questioned for the remainder of the weekend plunged him into despair. He tried pretending he was alone, but Morgan had purchased an additional bucket of chicken to take along and its thick oily smell filled the car, reminding him each minute of his abusive passengers.

"Don't ignore me," Mia snapped. "Answer my question."

Billy gave in, "What question?"

"How are we getting to Miami? What road?"

"I'm taking US 41, the Timiami Trail, it's a pretty drive."

"Really, William?" He hated it when she called him by his full name. "It's a two lane backwoods trail. I though you wanted to get to your little thing quickly."

"Too late now," he tried to sound matter-of-fact and not defensive, " and it goes right into Miami. It's a lovely drive. It's peaceful"

"It's a stupid choice is what it is. Well we're on it now...next time ask me before you make anymore stupid decisions."

"Yes, dear," he answered in a robot-like tone. In an attempt to gain support for his decision, he addressed Morgan, "There's lots of gators along this road, big ones too."

Morgan actually sat up with a rare expression of excitement rather than his usual look of distain, "Mom, can we stop to look at some alligators. I wanna feed them some KFC!"

Mia punched Billy's arm, "Now look what you've done! Even more of a delay, thank you very much. You've got the boy all worked up," She turned back toward her son, "All right dear, but only for a little while. There are bunches of nasty bugs in these swamps and we don't want you catching that Nile disease or anything." She turned back toward Billy and hissed like an angry cobra, "He better not get sick, William, you know how delicate he is...and you better find him some alligators!"

Billy's mind drifted to a peaceful place as he drove along the narrow corridor through the swamps, mangroves, and cypress. Mia and Morgan sat silently, not quite awake and not quite asleep. The window was rolled down and the car was warm and slightly humid.

Billy scanned the sides of the road, reveling in the variety of flora, both large and small, that burst from every square inch of the landscape. He imagined himself spending weeks sketching here and that thought affected him in an unexpected way. He became angry, then he sank into despair.

The weight of every wasted day of his life drove him deeper into depression. Billy realized that the single thing in his life that gave him a sense of pride had become so minimalized that it was now only an afterthought in an existence that cast no shadows. If he did not seize it now, it would disappear completely and forever. The wicked witch had stolen his soul.

After about an hour eastward, Billy decided to shift his attention to the ponds, marshes, and waterways along the road for signs of alligators. He'd seen one or two earlier, but he knew his promise of a behemoth was how he would be judged by Morgan, and by extension, Mia. He slowed down as he approached a deepwater pond surrounded by marshland and encompassed by cypress. There were even several mangrove trees growing near its edges with protruding roots that looked like the massive veins of a giant.

Billy pulled over. Mia was snoring and Morgan lay sprawled across the back seat. He exited the car, careful not to wake his passengers, and walked to the edge of the pond, where a large, dead tree laid on its side. Climbing up, he scanned the surface of the water. Then he saw them. Three alligators were sunning themselves at the far edge of the pond in the reeds and grasses common to this area. One of the three reptiles was massive, easily thirteen feet long. Billy smiled, knowing that for this task at least, he had met his wife's expectations. He continued looking across the pond. It was then that he saw it.

At first he thought is was a piece of scrap paper wedged on the trunk of a cypress. The tree itself was about twenty yards to his right, a few feet away from the pond and opposite from where the gators were resting. Something in his mind made him walk closer. The white papery mass changed appearance, now resembling an albino frog climbing up the bark. His heart raced. He approached to within a few feet.

It was a Ghost Orchid, one of the rarest of flowers. Like a man in a daze, he walked right up to the bloom, muddying his shoes in the process. All despair left him, replaced by a feeling of true joy. It was as though God had given him a gift for his suffering. He rushed back to the car to get his sketchpad.

He tried opening his trunk as quietly as possible. His caution proved futile, as the unmistakable sound of Mia and Morgan awakening broke the humid calm of the afternoon.

"What the hell is this? Where are we?" Mia screeched.

"Morgan's alligators." He reminded her.

Morgan jumped out of the back seat with his bucket of chicken. "Cool, where?"

Billy pointed to the slime covered pond, "Over there on the far left bank. There's three of them. One's really big. Be careful."

Morgan looked at Billy and sneered, "Whatever."

Mia grabbed Billy's arm, "There's a lot of bugs, couldn't you find a better spot?"

"It's a swamp dear, there are bugs everywhere."

"Are you trying to be funny? I'm going to watch Morgan, don't wander off."

Billy saw his chance, "I'll be right over there by that big tree. I found a flower, dendrophylax lindenii, an orchid I want to draw."

Mia thrust her hands outward, "Jesus, more scribbles after everything I told you? Go on, draw your pretty little flower, but when I want to leave, we leave, understood?"

"Yes, dear," Billy said weakly, realizing he could barely begin his drawing, let alone finish it in the time Mia would allow him. He walked over to the cypress tree and sat on a stump facing the flower, studying it carefully before pencil ever met paper.

By this time, Morgan had positioned himself at the edge of the water and began lobbing rocks at the three sunning gators. After being hit a few times, the three reptiles slowly eased themselves into the water and began slowly swimming across the pond's surface. The boy laughed with delight and opened the bucket of chicken. When the large alligator was about forty feet away, he threw a drumstick in a perfect arc directly in front of the creature's snout. The gator paused and then, with a speed belying its great girth, snapped the chicken down its gullet. Morgan began lobbing additional pieces of chicken to different spots in the pond, making the leviathan zig and zag all across the water's surface.

"Be careful sweetheart, those things are fast, don't let it get too close." Mia said loudly.

"I won't, mom. These things are pretty stupid. I only got a couple of pieces left. I'm getting bored anyway." He threw the last few pieces of chicken to the center of the pond and watched them disappear into the hungry yaws of the alligators. Morgan stepped back from the water and found a rock to sit on as the gators circled the center of the pond in frustration, looking for more meat to satisfy their hunger.

Mia walked over to Billy and grabbed his shoulder, pulling back on it and causing him to draw an errant line. He pushed her arm off him in frustration. Mia immediately slapped him very hard across the head. "Don't you ever lay a hand on me," she screamed, "now put away your crayons and take us to Miami."

"I need more time." Billy pleaded.

"It's not all about you. I'm so tired of you holding me back...wasting my time with this crap..." She  grabbed the sketchpad from Billy's hands. To his horror, she ripped his drawing out of the book and sneered at him, "Why don't you just take a photo like everyone else. Well this is done, I'm putting my foot down...no more useless scribbles!" She crumpled the drawing in her hand and tossed it to the center of the pond.

"Way to go," Morgan laughed loudly, "You tell him!"

Billy stared in disbelief at Mia. She walked away from him toward Morgan, who still sat near the water's edge. Billy watched as the large alligator swallowed the remnant of his drawing. He looked at the Ghost Orchid and a strange smile crossed his face as that lockbox deep within his soul opened, freeing the accumulated wrath of a decade.

The sun had just begun its descent into the horizon when Billy arrived at the hotel. He parked the car at the back of the structure and stood staring at the ocean, shielding his eyes against the golden brightness of the approaching dusk. Wispy lines of clouds stretched outward toward infinity, glowing a brilliant pink and gold. After a time he turned, grabbing the family luggage and keeping his sketchbook tucked under his arm as he headed into the hotel.

Billy saw the large posters announcing the botanical illustrators conference mounted on easels in the lobby. A few guests stood looking at them. He smiled broadly, seeing his own drawing proudly featured on the print. He approached the check-in desk and gave his name. The young woman at the desk looked up at him.

"You're one of the artists, aren't you?"

"I am," Billy answered proudly.

"The rose, right?"

"Yes, it's a Desert Rose, rosa stellata is the scientific name. It's very beautiful despite the fact it grows in a very hostile environment. You can't stop creation, no matter how much you try to stifle it." He looked at the girl as she continued to process his reservation, "Would you like to see the drawing I just finished?"

The girl looked up and smiled back, "Sure, I'd love to see it."

He opened his sketchpad and placed it in front of the clerk. She stared at it intensely, even lightly stroking the paper.

"That is sooo beautiful! I've never seen anything like it."

Billy picked up the pad and looked at it, "It's a Ghost Orchid, very rare...the only one I've ever seen...like a sign or a message, you know?"

She returned to her work as she answered, "I get that...the universe sends us signs all the time." She chuckled, "At least that's what my Mama tells me." She handed him his key-card, "This reservation is for three, will the rest of your party be joining you later?"

Billy turned and began walking toward the elevator, " No, I'm here alone. They decided to go swimming instead."

"It's their loss, they don't know what they're missing. I'm a Pisces, I like this kind of stuff, what's your wife?" the girl called after him.

Billy entered the elevator and answered only after the doors had closed.
"Lunch."