The Further Adventures Of Orson Orsen Chandler (23 of50, 100 word post)

A plastic baggie hung on one of Jesus’ up-reaching arms. I snatched it, grabbed hold of Jesus and searched the water. Green eyes had disappeared. Discretion became the better part of curiosity and survival topped them all so I headed towards the undulating sunlight.
My eyeballs felt like they’d pop as I did the stroke they call the panicked butterfly. I breached the surface with a gasp and when my head stopped throbbing I examined the baggie--a note and another god damn key. I was ready for someone to get to the point. Maybe they had. The boat was gone.