Rex awoke with a start. He reached for a tissue from the box on the bedside table to dab at his runny nose. Despite swallowing down the medicine and sleeping, he only felt worse.
Staring at the ceiling, he felt sorry for himself. His hand reached over to grab his cell. Maybe Viv called. One glance brought him upright in bed. I only have an hour to showtime. Must have forgotten to set my alarm.
Rex felt great pride about his timely way of going about business. He'd never missed a scheduled performance. In fact he'd never even been late. A well-disciplined mentalist, he didn't believe in leaving anything to chance. He planned ahead.
And don't forget what they told you in boot camp, he cautioned himself. "If you're not fifteen minutes early, you're ten minutes late." When he tried to explain why that didn’t make sense and do the math with the sergeant, he'd been severely reprimanded.
"Redondo, you need to have your butt in the chair fifteen minutes before the senior officer enters the room. Is that clear enough for you!"
Even the way he walked on stage had been carefully choreographed over the years. An entrance is everything, he'd told Viv. He knew the audience judged his first appearance, making up their minds then and there whether to believe that he was the real deal.
An hour was barely time enough for him to get ready. Just his makeup and getting dressed took some attention, no matter how familiar the routine. And he needed to go over his act to include the crystal ball. I mean the fortune globe, he corrected himself.
Shivering in the cold shower, he carefully planned what to do. Shaking himself off minutes later, he grabbed a towel, running it along his back to stop the water dribbling down his spine. Shivering, Rex realized, I may have an actual temperature. The doc claimed it was normal, but maybe since the nap…
His shoes polished and bow tie in place, Rex walked to his closet. Reaching inside, he used his code to open the safe. With the fortune globe in his pocket, he took a brief glance into the mirror and then stepped into the corridor.
Turning to the right, he nearly tripped over a wheeled hamper, which partially blocked the door. He moved around the hamper, thinking maybe they'd leave him a clean set of towels.
"Good evening, Mr. Redondo," Robert Redford greeted him at the end of the corridor. "I hope you're enjoying your cruise." Redford was dressed in an Aloha cruise uniform complete with cummerbund. Another reminder of the formal-wear evening planned by the cruise activities director.
"I don't have any hot water," Rex complained. "I meant to pick up the phone and tell maintenance but got waylaid and then I forgot. Until I stepped into the shower and nearly froze."
Self-pity came over him, his voice grumpy. I don't have the energy to play nice.
Redford adopted a concerned expression. "I'll look into that. Anything else?"
Rex shrugged and moved past. "I'm late, I'm late. For a very important date," he quoted the White Rabbit from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland under his breath.
Determined not to stop in the staff dining hall, he made his way toward the sliding doors on the other side of the room. A voice sounded muffled, so he pulled on his ear.
Despite not being able to hear well, he heard someone call his name. "I don't have time for conversation," he quickened his pace.
"Rex Redondo," came another call. Because he was basically a polite person, he finally stopped and looked around.
The Old Lady of the Sea waved from the far corner of the room. Her table was closest to the exit. He didn't like to be rude, especially to old ladies. And she obviously wanted to have a word with him.
"Come over, dear. I have news for you." She smiled.
His eyebrows rose. What's she doing in the staff dining room? Why isn't she eating with the rest of the passengers upstairs?
Can't think about that now, he reminded himself. I'm late and need to get backstage. But because he never left a lady in a lurch, he edged closer to her table.
"Can't talk right now," he hollered. When she looked surprised, he realized he'd spoken too loud. "Got a show," he added in a quieter voice.
"I'm not deaf," she told him, her mouth pursing in disapproval.
"I'll catch up with you afterward." He hurried away toward the elevators.
In the elevator, Rex touched his temple with his forefinger. Maybe it's the medicine, he thought. I can't hear well and I do feel dizzy.
Shaking his head to clear the spacey feeling, he reached into his trouser pocket to connect with his prop. Okay, fortune globe. I hope you've got the magic. I'm going to need a real vision for the show tonight.