When Cleo woke up, the boat was rocking slightly with the rising tide. She wasn’t ready to wake up yet, so she kept her eyes closed and rolled her head back and forth on the pillow and thought of the baby inside her rolling back and forth, too, rocking, rocking, rock-a-bye baby. She held another pillow clasped tight against her belly. This second one was made of foam rubber and it felt smooth and yielding like flesh. Sometimes, in a foggy moment, she believed it was real flesh, her own real baby. But usually she knew it wasn’t, that her real baby was deep down inside her, very tiny, hardly bigger than a grain of sugar.
Once she tied the pillow around her waist inside her dress and went downtown, walking along the streets and into the stores. People looked at her oddly.
Some were pitying: “Why, you poor child, you’re scarcely more than a child yourself. How far gone are you?”
“Quite,” Cleo said solemnly. “Quite far gone.”
Some were contemptuous. “Don’t they teach about contraceptives in school? Look at her. Probably on welfare. That brat of hers will probably be on welfare, too. And we’ll be picking up the bills.”
One woman reached out and touched Cleo on the stomach.
Cleo drew back, surprised and frightened. “What did you do that for?”
“For luck. Didn’t you ever hear that?”
“No.”
“Whenever you see a woman big with child you touch her on the stomach for luck.”
She went back to the motel near the beach and told Roger about the woman who touched the baby for luck, only it wasn’t the baby.
“Why did you do a thing like that?” he said, turning red with anger. “People will think you’re crazy.”
“But there really is a baby deep inside. And you’re going to be the father and I’m going to be the mother. You promised, Roger. That very first day when I came to you and told you what happened with Ted and me, you said you would take care of me. You said you would see to it that Hilton wouldn’t take the baby away and have me fixed like he did our cat. You promised, Roger.”
“Yes.”
“And after this one, we’ll have some more. Boy, girl, boy, girl, or two boys and two girls, whichever you think is best. It wouldn’t be fair to have just one child. It would always be lonely, the way I am.”
“What if we can’t make it, Cleo, if things don’t work out?”
“You’re always telling me that people can work anything out if they really try, that people can make things work out. You told me that.”
“Yes.”
“You weren’t lying?”
“I didn’t intend to lie, Cleo. Perhaps I only spoke too soon, too optimistically.”
She began to cry then, and Roger held her in his arms, trying to soothe her, stroking her hair, brushing her tears away with his mouth.
“Come inside, Roger,” she said. “Come in and visit our baby. Come inside.”
“Not now.”
“Why not?”
“The dog,” he said. “The dog wants out. I have to go and walk him.”
“Oh, I’m sick of that dog. He’s always interfering like this. He’s not my friend anymore . . . Will you come back soon?”
“Yes.”
Roger was gone a long time. When he came back he told her he’d arranged to have the dog returned to the Jaspers. He was very pale and smelled of liquor.
“Are you going to visit the baby now, Roger?”
“I want to.”
They lay down again and she clasped her legs around his and held him tight against her. She could feel him struggling to get away and pretty soon he began to cry.
“God forgive me. I’m sorry, Cleo. Sorry, sorry, sorry.”
Roger always said things three times when he really meant them, so that was the night she found out that things sometimes didn’t work out no matter how hard people tried.
This time when Roger left he took his clothes with him and that was the end of the marriage.
She phoned Ted at the house the next morning and told him a sort of lie. She said Hilton had kicked her out just the way he had kicked Ted out and she was staying at a motel because she had nowhere to go. She asked him to help her find a place to live. He said he’d be right down, though he sounded rather peculiar.
She waited for him outside the motel.
His first words were, “That story you gave me on the phone was a lot of bull, wasn’t it?”
“A little,” she said. “Not a whole lot.”
“So what actually happened?”
“I ran away. I ran away because they kicked you out and I didn’t think it was fair.”
“Why’d you do that?”
“Because I like you.”
“Oh, come off it, kid.” But he sounded flattered. “You shouldn’t have run away. You know you can’t look after yourself. What do you intend to do?”
“I was going to get married.”
“What changed your mind?”
“I found out he was already married.”
“Hang in there. He might divorce her.”
“It’s not a her.”
“So why did you drag me into this?”
“I don’t know.”
She did know, though she hadn’t known for long. When she telephoned him for help she had only a vague idea in her mind, but now she was perfectly sure. Ted had nice features, he laughed easily, he played games well, he surfed and skied, and he could teach all these things to a son the way a good father should.
They walked along the waterfront. Ted told her his mother had given him enough money to live on for the summer, and that if his father hadn’t relented by next fall she intended to sell some bonds to finance his senior year in college. Cleo asked him where he was going for the summer. He wasn’t certain.
“Aspen, maybe,” he said. “It’s not as lively as it is in the winter but there’s still plenty of action if you look for it.”
“I was in Catalina once.” She recalled the trip vividly because it had been the only real experience in her life, with no Hilton or Frieda around, no Mrs. Holbrook or counselors, just the waves and the sea birds and a pleasant little man who ran the boat. She even remembered his name, Manny Ocho, because there weren’t many names in her life to remember. She saw the little man once in a while because on her free afternoons she sometimes took a bus down to the harbor and looked for the boat. If it was there she waved to the skipper or whoever was on board. But usually it was gone and the space where it was supposed to be was empty. She felt left out, like a little girl not invited to a party.
She said, “Do you think I’d like Aspen?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“I’ve got a thousand dollars.”
Ted laughed. “That’s about four days’ worth in Aspen.”
This was a shock. She thought a person could live for a whole year on a thousand dollars. “Where is Aspen?”
“In the mountains in Colorado.”
“Is it healthful?”
“In some ways, I guess. In others, no.”
“I mean, does it have a healthful climate? I need a healthful climate.”
“Look, kid, the most healthful climate for you is right here. You’d better call my parents and tell them you’ll be home pretty soon. Will you do that?”
“If you want me to, Ted.”
“Listen, what I want has nothing to do with anything. It’s simple logic. You know what logic is, common sense.”
“If you’re driving alone someplace and I wanted to go to the very same place, wouldn’t it be common sense to take me along?”
“No,” he said. “No, no.”
“Why do men always say things three times? Why not two or four?”
“Okay, well make it four. No.”
“I didn’t really ask anyway. I just said, wouldn’t it be common sense?”
“Listen, you wanted me to help you find an apartment or someplace to live. I can drive you around and we’ll look for vacancy signs. And that’ll be the end of it. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. But let’s keep walking. It’s such a neat day and you and I haven’t ever really talked before.”
“All right. We’ll walk and talk. But don’t start getting any funny ideas. You and I are going our separate ways.”
She gazed up at him wistfully. “But Aspen sounds so pretty.”
“It’s not that pretty. Besides, I may not go there. It’s the first name that occurred to me, is all. I may go to Borneo.”
“I never heard of Borneo. Does it have a healthful climate?”
“Jeez,” Ted said. “Let’s walk.”
“But does it have a healthful climate?”
“It’s a jungle infested with giant snakes and rodents.”
“Then why are you going there?”
“To get away from people who ask dumb questions.”
“I have to ask dumb questions,” she said. “I’m dumb, aren’t I?”
“Come on, come on, come on.”
She didn’t move.
“Now what’s the matter?”
“You did it again, Ted.”
“Did what?”
“Said something three times, instead of two or four.”
Ted said, “Move it, kid,” and gave her a little push. They began walking out toward the breakwater, past the Coast Guard headquarters, the marine accessories store and yacht brokers’ offices, a fish market, and finally the breakwater itself. The tide was low and a small group of children were picking up mussels off the rocks on the sea side. On the other side, between two rows of marinas, a western grebe was diving for dinner. It came up with a fish in its beak and maneuvered it around until the fish could be swallowed headfirst. The bird’s long thin neck bulged for a moment or two. Cleo didn’t like to see creatures eating other creatures, so she closed her eyes and clung to Ted’s arm to help keep her balance.
When she opened her eyes again, there was the Spindrift, sky-blue and white, with dark blue sail covers. At first she thought there was no one on deck; then she saw Manny Ocho about three quarters of the way up the mainmast, inspecting some rigging.
She called to him and waved. “Manny, it’s me, Cleo.”
He waved back. “Hey, Cleo, why you not in school?”
“I’m on vacation.”
“Pretty soon, I’m on vacation, too.”
“Where are you going?”
“Ensenada, see my wife and kids, make sure everything’s okey doke. Who’s your friend?”
“Ted.”
“Want to come aboard?”
“Oh, yes, I’d love to.”
“Better go the long way round. Too far to jump, too dirty to swim.”
They walked back to the entrance ramp of the marina, with Cleo pulling Ted by the hand to hurry him along.
“Who the hell wants to go on a boat?” he said. “I thought I was supposed to help you find an apartment.”
“That can wait. I still have the room at the motel where Roger and I were going to spend our honeymoon.”
“Has it occurred to you that I might have affairs of my own to settle?”
“Oh, Ted, you don’t really want to go to Borneo, do you? Maybe Manny might let us ride along with him to Ensenada. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
“I doubt it.”
“I bet it’s a lot nicer than Borneo,” Cleo said. “I bet it’s not infected with snakes.”
When they reached the Spindrift the gangplank was down, and they went on board as Manny Ocho slid down from the mast on a rope like a circus performer.
“I show off,” he said, examining the palms of his hands. “Hurts like hell. Cleo, you looking good, happy. This your young man?”
“She’s my aunt,” Ted said.
“Your aunt, ho, ho. A joke, no?”
“It’s no joke.”
“You’re a big boy to have such a cute little aunt. Me, I got nine, ten aunts, all old and fat and ugly.”
Cleo giggled, hiding her face against Ted’s sleeve. He didn’t seem to mind. She really was cute.
Manny showed them around the Spindrift with great pride. In a sense it belonged more to him than to Whitfield, who merely held the owner’s papers and couldn’t have taken the boat out of the harbor by himself.
The captain’s quarters occupied the entire forward cabin. It was spacious and luxuriously furnished, but its teak paneling was marred by Whitfield’s collection of pinups, some of them signed, and its thick, red wool carpeting bore the stains of too many spilled drinks. A television set that projected its picture on a large screen was turned on to a baseball game, and a crewman was sitting in the captain’s swivel chair, watching the game and sipping Coke out of a can.
Manny explained the crewman. “Mr. Whitfield, he at his place in Palm Springs, not expected for a couple more days. Maybe sooner, maybe longer. I think he looking for a new chick.”
“I wish Donny could get away from school and come down here,” Cleo said. “We could have a party. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
Manny laughed. “Aunts not supposed to like parties. And why you want Donny?”
“You need a lot of people to have a real party and I hardly know any.”
“Donny not a real people. He a pig.”
“He gives me chocolate bars and imitates Mrs. Holbrook and makes me laugh.”
Manny moved his mouth around as if he intended to spit in the ocean. Then he remembered he was below deck and he swallowed instead.
“Besides,” Cleo added, “if we were having a party and Mr. Whitfield suddenly appeared, it would be okay because Donny would be here . . . Don’t you think so, Ted?”
Ted didn’t even hear the question. He was busy examining the pictures on the wall with the air of a connoisseur.
“Okey doke,” Manny said, and showed her how to open the red leather case where the phone was concealed. Then he and Ted went to see the boat’s navigation room.
It took about five minutes and considerable lying to reach Donny at Holbrook Hall.
“Hey, Donny, it’s me.”
“Who’s me?”
“Cleo. Guess what. I’m on the Spindrift.”
“What are you doing there?”
“I’m with Ted. You remember Ted, who picks me up at school sometimes. He’s the one that drives the car you like, the kind your dad’s going to buy you if you ever get off probation.”
“That’ll be in about a million years,” Donny said bitterly. “Maybe more.”
“Oh, don’t be so gloomy. Come on down and we’ll celebrate.”
“Celebrate what?”
“I’m getting married.”
“Why?”
“Because of the baby.”
“No kidding, you’re going to have a real baby?”
She didn’t like the question. “Of course it’s real, dummy. And I’m sailing to Ensenada on my honeymoon. You can come along if you want to.”
“Sure I want to. A lot of good that does. You know how they watch me around this joint, like I was public enemy numero uno.”
“Dream up something. Like the laundry truck. Remember when you stole the laundry truck?”
“I got caught.”
“That was just bad luck, hitting the tree,” Cleo said. “Why don’t you try again?”
“I’ll think about it.”
He didn’t have to think about it very long. That was the morning Aragon left his car keys in the ignition.
The party had all the elements of success, beginning with the people: Manny Ocho and the crewmen about to visit their families for the first time in weeks, Cleo ready for her honeymoon, Donny, who’d finally escaped from Holbrook Hall and didn’t intend to go back—“If dear old dad shows up we’ll throw him overboard”—and a footloose young man who’d been kicked out of his house. In addition, the Spindrift carried plenty of booze, and one of the crewmen, Velasco, had purchased a quantity of hashish from a lower State Street bar, using money he had collected from the others on board.
The party began with lunch: guacamole prepared by Velasco and served with corn chips, and beluga caviar which Whitfield kept in a supposedly foolproof safe. None of them actually liked caviar but it had such an impressive price they felt duty bound to eat it. Cleo tried to pretend it was black tapioca but Velasco kept talking about “feesh eggs. Nearly three hundred dollars a pound for feesh eggs,” and Ted sang a song about virgin sturgeon needing no urging. Ocho sprinkled his share with Tabasco sauce and rolled it up in a tortilla.
When the others had finished eating, Donny scooped up everything that was left on their plates and piled it on his own—guacamole, corn chips, caviar—until it looked like a heap of dog vomit. Eventually he had to go on deck to throw up. Cleo went with him, and being very suggestible, she threw up, too.
Then she and Donny sat side by side in the bow, watching the gulls quarreling and listening to the music coming from the cabin, Velasco playing the harmonica and Ted singing dirty fraternity songs. Cleo couldn’t make out the words of all the songs because the cabin was tightly closed to prevent the odor of hashish from reaching the wrong noses. Donny was sweating so much his hair was wet and water rolled down from his forehead onto his cheeks like tears.
“Your face is very red,” Cleo said.
“What do I care? I can’t see it.”
“Is my face red?”
“I dunno. I can’t see that either.”
This was such a hilarious joke that Donny doubled up with laughter. Cleo wasn’t amused. Throwing up had made her feel quite sober.
“Donny,” she said. “Do you ever have foggy moments?”
“Foggy? Naw. I get flashes, great big bright white flashes. I see things never been seen before. It’s a blast, man.”
“Why do you call me man?”
“It’s just an expression. Besides, you got no boobs.”
“I’m going to grow some when the baby comes.”
“Naw. You’re built like a man.”
“Oh, I am not. Look.”
Cleo took off her T-shirt.
“Pimples,” Donny said. “Just a couple of pimples.”
“Roger liked them.”
“He would. He’s gay, stupid.” Donny looked at her sharply. “Don’t tell me you ever made it with that creep.”
“Practically. We were even supposed to be married, but suddenly it wasn’t such a good idea. I’m going to marry Ted instead.”
“When?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t told him yet.”
“Oh, wow. You really are a kook. I thought you were related to him.”
“We’re only sort of related. Anyway, he was away at school most of the time and I was at home so we hardly knew each other so we’re practically strangers. He’s the father.”
“Father?”
“Of my baby.” She giggled. “Me and Ted, we made it, right down the hall from where Hilton was sleeping. Only it turned out he wasn’t sleeping. He came charging in and made a horrible fuss.”
Donny threw up again over the railing. This seemed to give him extra insight into the situation. “You can’t have the kid. There’s no such thing as being sort of related. If you and Ted are related, the kid will be even more half-witted than you are.”
“I’m not half-witted,” Cleo said obstinately. “And I also got boobs.”
“You should have an abortion.”
“Well, I won’t, so there.”
“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Wait’ll the kid comes out with two heads and one leg . . . Oh, for Christ’s sake, don’t start crying. I’m just trying to get you to face facts. If Ted doesn’t want to marry you he won’t, and you can’t force him.” Donny had one of his bright white flashes. “Unless he’s stoned. That’s it. We can get him stoned and drag him to a preacher.”
“We don’t need a preacher,” Cleo said. “I saw this television movie where as soon as the boat left the dock the captain began marrying two people.”
“My old man wouldn’t go for that. He’s against marriage.”
“Then how about Manny? Or you?”
“Me?” The idea had instant appeal to Donny but he refused at first to admit it. “I couldn’t do that. I’m not the captain.”
“You’re the owner’s son, you could just make yourself the captain. You could proclaim it. You got rights, Donny. As soon as the boat leaves the dock you can say, ‘I proclaim myself captain.’”
“‘I proclaim myself captain.’ Hey, I like that.” Donny stood up straight and assumed a Napoleonic pose. “I proclaim myself captain.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” Cleo said.
The party ended early, with everyone going to bed wherever they lost consciousness.
Festivities were resumed the following morning when Ted and Velasco went ashore for fresh supplies. They didn’t bother with caviar or more avocados for guacamole; they went directly to the bar on lower State Street where Velasco had purchased the hashish. It was closed, so they made a buy from a man standing outside a pawnshop and then returned to the boat.
Throughout the day Cleo tried to persuade Manny Ocho to cast off without waiting for the arrival of Donny’s father. Ocho, who despised Whitfield, would have liked to oblige, but he had too strong a sense of survival. Jobs like his didn’t come along very often. Rich men were getting stingier, learning to skipper their own craft and picking up unpaid crews here and there, mostly teenagers and restless young men like Ted who wanted travel and adventure more than wages.
That night Ocho had a telephone call from Palm Springs. Whitfield said he would drive up the next morning, check in at his condo for an hour or so, then come aboard ready to sail.
Ocho broke the news to the others that this was to be the last night of the party. They cheered themselves up by opening a case of Johnny Walker and starting a series of toasts: to the Presidents of the United States and Mexico, the Los Angeles Dodgers, the man who invented scotch, and the Spindrift, “the greatest ketch ever caught.” This was Ted’s contribution.
“When you catch a ketch,” he said. “The ketch is caught.”
Donny laughed, but neither Cleo nor the three Mexicans understood the pun, even when Ted repeated it with emphasis and gestures.
“When you catch a ketch, the ketch is caught.”
“Aw, the hell,” Velasco said, and proposed a toast of his own, to Señora Pinkass and her girls of Tijuana.
The final toast was proposed by Ocho to Whitfield, or rather to “his money, which keeps us all afloat.”
But the party lacked the festive spirit of the previous day and night. The imminent arrival of Whitfield cast a pall over the deck as thick as a summer fog. In addition, the stuff that Ted and Velasco had purchased from the man outside the pawnshop turned out not to be hashish but ordinary marijuana mixed with tea leaves.
They smoked it anyway, of course, and eventually Velasco played his harmonica, though Ted declined to sing. He was pretty confused by this time and wanted to go ashore. But Cleo sat on his lap and Donny brought him another tumbler full of Johnny Walker.
“Come on, Ted,” Cleo said. “You’ll spoil the party if you don’t sing.”
“I don’t remember the words.”
“Sure you do. What about that one, ‘Dirty Gertie from Bizerte’?”
“Madame,” he said with great dignity, “I am not accepting any requests from the audience.”
“Not even from me?”
“And who are you?”
“Me. Cleo.”
“Aw, leave him alone,” Donny said. “He’s got a lousy voice anyway.”
Donny remained the soberest of the partygoers. He dreaded meeting his father and trying to explain how he’d gotten away from Holbrook Hall. He might be able to convince him that Mrs. Holbrook had given him special permission to go to Ensenada on the Spindrift. But then his father might remember that the school wasn’t allowed to do anything like that without an investigation and report by the probation department and a lot of other crap. No, words weren’t going to work, none that he’d thought of so far.
At six o’clock Manny Ocho turned on the radio to get the news and the weather report. It was then that Cleo found out about Roger Lennard’s death. Roger Lennard, thirty-three, had been found dead, possibly a victim of foul play. A description was given of Lennard’s visitor, who had been heard quarreling with him. Cleo knew at once it had to be Hilton and she phoned the police and told them. Then she went back to sit on Ted’s lap again.
But there was no lap. Ted had passed out on a couch and was lying on his back with his mouth open, snoring. Cleo listened to him for a few minutes, frowning. She wasn’t sure she wanted a husband who snored; it might keep her and the baby awake.
Manny Ocho and the two crewmen watched an old movie on television which Cleo had seen half a dozen times before. She went up to join Donny, who was sitting on the bowsprit, brooding.
“Do you snore, Donny?”
“You ask the stupidest questions. How the hell would I know?”
“You don’t have to shout.”
“You don’t have to listen. Go away and leave me alone.”
“I have nowhere to go. Ted’s asleep and the others are watching a movie with a lot of cowboys which I don’t like in the first place.”
It was dark by this time and everything on board was wet, even Cleo’s hair. She shivered with cold and sadness.
“Poor Roger,” she said. “He wouldn’t be dead if it wasn’t for me. Does that make me a sort of murderer?”
“You did the poor slob a favor.”
“Maybe they’ll put me on probation like they did you.”
“Lay off, will you? I’m trying to think.”
“I hate to be alone.”
“You’re not alone—you got the baby. So why don’t you and the kid go below and have a nice heart-to-heart talk?”
“You can be real nasty, Donny.”
“Bug off.”
She watched the rest of the movie with Ocho and the crewmen. Then all four of them went to bed after a final nightcap.
Donny sat on the bowsprit for a long time trying to straighten out his head. He feared his father’s power but he wanted the same thing for himself. He despised Whitfield’s collection of young women, yet he lusted after every one of them. He hated the sound of his father’s voice, but he wanted to hear it.
He watched a lone star trying to break through the overcast. When it was no longer visible Donny went below to the captain’s cabin and took the phone out of the red leather case and called the house in Palm Springs.
It was eleven o’clock. Donny let the phone ring a dozen times in case his father was drunk or in bed with some chick or asleep.
Eventually Whitfield answered and he didn’t sound drunk or sleepy. “Who the hell’s this?”
“Donny.”
“Donny? What are you doing up so late?”
“I couldn’t sleep. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you.”
Whitfield was immediately suspicious. “Listen, son. You know the school has a limit on spending money.”
“I don’t want any money.”
“Well, that’s a switch. Don’t tell me you simply wanted to hear my voice.”
This was so close to the truth that Donny couldn’t speak for a minute. No sound could get past the sudden lump in his throat.
“Son? What’s the matter, son?”
“Nothing.”
“How’s school going?”
“Fine. I’m even taking stuff like—ah, Latin.”
“Latin? That’s terrific. Amo, amas, amat, right?”
“Listen, Dad, I heard the Spindrift is going to Ensenada.”
“Now where did you hear—?”
“I’d like to go along. The school will give me special permission because I’m doing so well in my studies like, you know, Latin, I’m working real hard.”
“Yes. Well, you realize I’d like to take you, son, but the fact is I’ve invited other company.”
“You wouldn’t have to tell them I was your son. I could pretend to be one of the crew.”
“You’re putting me in a bind, son. I’d certainly like to reward you for your change in attitude and behavior but I honestly can’t. This is very special company, if you know what I mean.”
“Sure. It’s okay.”
“Donny, you remember that BMW you wanted me to buy you as soon as you get your driver’s license back? I’ll get one for you, how about that?”
“Thanks.”
“Now Donny, it’s obvious that you’re disappointed. But be patient. Wait a few more years until you’re off probation and you and I will take the Spindrift all around the world. Tahiti, Bora Bora, Fiji. How’s that for a deal?”
“Screw you,” Donny said and hung up. By the time he got off probation he’d be an old man.
He went to bed alone in the captain’s quarters. Getting up at dawn the next day he showered and dressed for the new role he was about to assume. The clothes came from his father’s mahogany wardrobe.
The white tailored slacks were too small, so he wore his own jeans, threadbare at the knees and seat. The navy-blue blazer didn’t come close to buttoning but he put it on anyway. The captain’s hat was too large, so he stuffed some toilet tissue in the back to make it fit. Then he opened one of the drawers of the rolltop desk and took out the two guns his father always kept there, a Smith & Wesson .22 and a German Luger. Donny used his limited knowledge of firearms, gained during a short session at a military academy, to make sure the guns were loaded and the safeties in order. Then he dropped the .22 into the pocket of the blazer and tucked the Luger in the waistband of his jeans. Already he felt like a new person, and the image in the mirror beside the wardrobe reaffirmed the feeling. It was a captain who stared back at him, a commander, a leader of men.
He went back to the galley.
Velasco was at the stove, mixing up a batch of huevos rancheros in a large iron frying pan. “Hey, Donny. You looking good all dressed up.”
“I am your new captain,” Donny said.
“By golly, no kidding. You hear that, Gomez? We got a new captain.”
Gomez, who had gone back to sleep with his head on the table, was not impressed. Donny kicked him on the butt and Gomez woke up with a moan of pain.
“Salute me, you bastard. Salute your new captain.”
“What the hell, by golly,” Velasco said. “What you doing, Donny?”
“Call me captain and salute me.”
“Maybe later. The eggs, they burn if I don’t stir.”
“Screw the eggs.”
Donny went over and pulled the iron frying pan off the stove and dumped its contents on the floor. The mixture oozed red like a fresh kill.
“Hey, Donny, what the hell, Jesus Christ, what you doing?”
“Salute me, pachuco.”
“Not pachuco. Last night you and me, all of us, amigos. Amigos forever.”
“Forever just ended,” Donny said. “You got that?”
“Sure, sure.”
“Mix up another batch of eggs and serve them to me in my quarters.”
“Okay, Donny.”
“You don’t say ‘okay’ to a captain. Say it right, dammit.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
“That’s better.”
He went in search of Cleo and found her in one of the guest cabins, lying on a bunk with a blanket pulled up to her chin. The outlines of her thin body could hardly be seen under the blanket, so she appeared to be a severed head.
“Cleo, wake up.”
“How can I wake up when I’m not asleep?”
“Then open your eyes.”
She opened her eyes and saw Donny looking terribly funny in an oversized hat. “What are you all dressed up like that for?”
“I was thinking over what you said last night, about how I got rights, so I’m proclaiming myself captain.”
“That’s nice.”
“Being as I’m now captain, I can marry you.”
“I thought I was going to marry Ted.”
“Sure you are. But I’m going to be like the minister as soon as we leave shore.”
Cleo threw off the blanket and sat up. “Then this is my wedding day.”
“Yeah. You got anything to wear besides those crummy jeans?”
“No.”
“Come on and we’ll search through my dad’s— that is, my quarters and see if some chick left a fancy robe, you know, something flimsy.”
Ted was asleep on the opposite bunk, lying on his stomach with his arms at his sides and his head twisted to one side. His mouth was open and he was making snorting and whistling sounds.
They both watched him for a minute. Then Donny said, “Are you sure you want to marry that?”
“I guess so. I mean, he looks better when he’s awake.”
“Give me your shoelaces.”
“Why should I?”
“Follow orders.”
“But my shoes are the only decent thing I have on. They’re practically new from Drawford’s.”
“I need the laces to tie his hands in case he wakes up and tries to mutiny.” Donny showed her the Luger he had tucked in his waistband and the .22 in his pocket. “There’ll be no mutiny on my ship.”
“Where did you get those?”
“From my dad’s— from my quarters.”
“Are you going to shoot somebody?”
“Maybe. If I have to.”
“Even me?”
“We’ll see. Give me your shoelaces.”
She took the laces out of her shoes and Donny tied Ted’s hands behind his back. At one point Ted’s snoring changed pitch and rhythm as if he was about to wake up, but he didn’t. Cleo watched in silence, deriving some satisfaction from the fact that Ted didn’t look like a bridegroom any more than she looked like a bride.
She followed Donny back to the captain’s quarters, where they had breakfast served by a mute and sullen Velasco. The change in Velasco and in Donny made Cleo uneasy.
“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” she said when Velasco had left. “Maybe we don’t have all those rights Roger said people had.”
“We got rights same as everybody else. Now we have to make plans. You know how to use a gun?”
“Point it at somebody and press the trigger.”
“No. First you fix the safety.” He gave her the .22 and showed her how to do it. “There. Now you’re ready to shoot someone.”
“What if I don’t really want to?”
“You obey orders. On a ship the captain is God.”
“You don’t look like God to me. He doesn’t wear a hat.”
“How do you know? Nobody’s ever seen him. Maybe he looks exactly like me, fat as a pig.”
“Well, I bet when you pass people on the street they don’t say, ‘There goes God.’”
“Oh, cut that crap and listen. The crew might try to jump ship or sound an alarm. It’s up to you to keep them quiet by holding the gun on them.”
“What if they won’t keep quiet?”
“You shoot them.”
“I don’t think I’m going to like that part. I’ve never shot anyone.”
“You won’t have to. It’s nothing but a threat, see? If they try to pull anything, you shoot a hole in the floor to warn them.”
“That might make the boat leak.”
“It won’t make the boat leak, stupid,” Donny said. “Now there’s one more thing you got to do. I could have saved us a lot of trouble if I’d decided to take over the ship last night. We’d be far at sea by this time. But I didn’t, so here we are, no use crying.”
“You can’t anyway,” Cleo said reasonably. “God never cried.”
“Oh, can the God bit and let me think a minute.” He pushed the cap back from his forehead and the toilet paper padding fell out on the floor. His face was very red and all screwed up like a fretful baby’s. “Now here’s the problem. When my dad drives up from Palm Springs he usually leaves very early to avoid the desert heat, so he may be arriving at his condo any minute. If he should look out the window and see the Spindrift missing, he’ll call the Coast Guard and they’ll send the cutter after us right away. So we have to buy time, an hour at least, more if we can get it.”
“I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we wait for him and invite him to come along?”
“You loony, don’t you know the first thing he’d do? Send for the cops to take me back to that goddamn school. Yes, and you, too. You got that? You, too.”
“I don’t want to go back. I want to get married.”
“Then cooperate. As soon as he arrives he’ll check in at his condo. It’s on the beach and you can see it from the bridge through binoculars. I’ll stand watch, and the minute he arrives I want you to make a call to the condo. I’ll give you the number.”
“What am I supposed to say?”
“Tell him that you’re Mrs. Holbrook’s secretary. Then you ask him to come to Holbrook Hall in order to discuss his son’s curriculum.”
“Curliculum. What’s that mean?”
“Never mind what it means. Just say it right. Cur-ri-culum.”
“Curriculum. Okay, then what?”
“Then he goes to the school and I order the crew to cast off.”
“What if the crew won’t listen to you?”
“They’ll listen.” Donny patted the Luger in his waistband and laughed. “We’re all amigos, all of us. Amigos forever.”
Manny Ocho knocked on the door and entered without waiting for permission. Though he had a well-deserved hangover, he was freshly shaved and uniformed.
“Hey, Donny, what’s going on? What you say to my crew? And what you doing wearing your father’s clothes?”
“They’re my clothes. I’m your new captain. Be ready to cast off when I say the word.”
“You don’t give me orders.”
“I give you orders.” Donny took the Luger out of his waistband. “And you obey them.”
“You crazy boy, Donny. You mixed up in the cabeza.”
“Don’t bother rolling your eyes at Cleo for help. She’s on my side and she has a gun, too. How do you like that?”
“It’s bad,” Manny said. “Very bad.”
“So don’t make it worse by trying anything funny. You stay down here with Cleo while I go up on the bridge. Cleo will entertain you. She does a great striptease. She has nothing much to show, but she shows it anyway.”
“This very bad, Donny.”
“I’m not Donny. I’m your captain.”
After Donny left, Cleo picked up the .22 from the table and began clicking the safety catch off and on for practice. She forgot about Ocho until he spoke to her in the voice he used to shout orders to his crew:
“Stop that.”
Cleo was so surprised by his tone that she almost dropped the gun. “I’m not doing anything.”
“Maybe by accident.”
“No. Donny showed me how to use it.”
“You going to use it?”
“Not really. I mean, I guess not unless Donny wants me to.”
“You reaching for big trouble, Cleo,” Ocho said. “This Donny, he a bad boy, you a nice little girl. You stay nice, you stay away from him.”
“I can’t. I want to get married.”
“You going to marry Donny?”
“No. It’s—well, it’s like this.”
She tried to reconstruct the movie she’d seen where the captain married two people as soon as the boat left the dock. But Ocho kept shaking his head and muttering to himself.
Up on the bridge Donny kept the binoculars focused on his father’s condominium on the beach. The binoculars were too heavy to allow continual observation, so he raised them every three or four minutes on the lookout for his father’s silver-grey Cadillac. He spotted it shortly before ten o’clock, parked in its slot beside the condo. There was no sign of his father or his companion, if any.
He hurried down to the cabin where Ocho and Cleo had turned on the television set and were watching a children’s cartoon, Ocho from the captain’s swivel chair, Cleo from the table with the gun in front of her.
Ocho switched off the television set and stood up. “Hey, Donny, you listen to me.”
“You got nothing I want to hear,” Donny said. “Cleo, make that call now.”
“I can’t remember the number.”
“Jeez, I’ve told you twice: 9694192. Now have you got it?”
“I guess so.”
“You remember what to say?”
“Sure. I’m the secretary and then that business about Donny’s curliculum.”
“Cur-ri-cu-lum.”
“Okay, don’t scream. Curriculum.”
“You listen now, Donny,” Ocho said again. “This Cleo, she a nice little girl, you leave her alone, you put her ashore.”
Donny turned to Cleo. “You want to go ashore, kid?”
“No, I don’t.”
“In fact, you invited me here, didn’t you? You phoned Holbrook Hall and told me to come down. We were going to have a party, right?”
“Yes.”
“So you’re not such a nice little girl after all, are you?”
“I didn’t mean any harm, Donny.”
“I want Manny clued in on what actually happened. You started the whole damn thing, didn’t you?”
“Sort of.”
“You hear that, Manny? You’re not a hero trying to rescue a poor, innocent girl. She’s none of those things: not poor, not innocent, not a girl. She’s a rich woman, five years older than I am. So I’m the one you ought to feel sorry for.”
“I do,” Ocho said. “I feel very sorry for you, Donny.”
“Then get ready to cast off. As soon as my father leaves his condo we’re moving. We’re moving.”
Ocho shook his head. “I got my family to think of, my job—”
“You got your own hide to think of first.” Donny patted the Luger in his waistband. It was beginning to feel uncomfortable poking into his stomach, so he transferred the gun to his coat pocket. “Look at it this way. It’s your hide against my hide and I like my hide better. Isn’t that reasonable?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you’ll spell it out to the crew?”
“Yes, sir.”
Donny returned to the bridge to watch the condo for any further signs of activity. As soon as he saw the silver Cadillac leave its parking slot he called Ocho, and the two of them went to the navigation room.
The engine wouldn’t start.
“Good,” Ocho said. “Stiff. Not used for a whole month.”
“Goddamn it, you’re supposed to keep the thing ready to go at any time.”
“You goddamn it yourself. I keep it good. I keep it the best.”
“Then start it the best.”
On the second attempt the engine turned over, but almost immediately Donny reached out and switched it off.
“The phone’s ringing. Answer it.”
“What you want me to say?”
“Just answer it.”
The call was from the harbormaster’s office and they both knew trouble was coming. That it came in the form of Aragon was the only surprise.
“Well, well,” Donny said when he jerked open the door and Aragon almost fell into the cabin. “Look who’s dropped in, my old pal that leaves his car keys in the ignition.”