Chapter 1
Alan Thorpe’s throat was dry. He stood watching as the horizon bled upward a sort of magenta color commonly found on half a dozen postcards sold in the various shops in an around Mallory Square. The humidity was stifling and the no see-ums had already coated the front side of his Tommy Bahama shirt which was pasted to his backside like a second skin. The shoreline was virtually deserted except for a few stragglers at the far eastern end. Alan wasn’t certain if they were tourists or simply homeless. Key West was hardly the ideal beach lover’s paradise. Everyone who came, likely came to drink and bounce up and down Duval street. Alan couldn’t help but wish how much he’d rather be spending his time amongst the locals, or “Conchs” as they’re commonly referred to. In Key West, there exist two different kinds of Conchs. There are those who are native to the keys and then there are the freshwater variety which consisted of mainlanders who had come to the keys and had opted to stay. Alan Thorpe was neither of these. What he was, was, at once, a prominent corporate law attorney from New York’s lower Manhattan district. A man of recognition, a man with considerable ties, and a man who, like many before him, had come to Florida because of a certain lackadaisical approach to bankruptcy laws. None of that made any difference to the people he’d been down here dealing with however, and it was beginning to look more and more like he was going to have to call upon some of those considerable ties.
“Christ it’s hotter than hell. I could go for a couple of cold ones; maybe some goddamn bug spray too. I’m getting murdered over here.”
The stranger at his side elicited no reply aside from a sly smirk. He was rather short in stature and Alan had noted at how bronzed his skin was. He wore a pair of faded cut-offs and equally worn flip flops and ironically, a yellowed Green Parrot shirt that read “no sniveling”. Alan thought for a moment that maybe he didn’t understand English. That certainly wasn’t going to do much in the way of easing his nerves. Nor would it aid in this current operation.
“Comprende’ cerveza? Es muy caliente.”
Alan began swatting furiously at the back of his neck, arms and legs. “Fucking wetbacks” he thought to himself. He wasn’t sure but he thought he heard a chuckle coming from the man at his right.
“First things first Mr. Thorpe. There will be plenty of time for you to indulge your pleasures. The boat will be along shortly where it will be anchored and you will wade out to it. The man aboard will take you where it is you wish to go. You do of course have the money.”
It wasn’t so much a question as a statement of fact. It had caught Alan completely off guard and brought about a brief nauseous ness like a swift kick to the groin.
“Yeah, yeah, I got the money. Non-sequential hundreds. The southernmost five million on this goddamn island. It’s in the trunk of that Mercedes over there.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, like a hitchhiker, to the southernmost Mercedes; the only car on the street. Down here on the southern tip that looked out to Cuba, everything was considered the southernmost of the U.S.
♦ ♦ ♦
Joel Benson was just finishing up the driveway when his neighbor John strolled over.
“Lucky bastard; bet you’re glad you won’t be shoveling that shit for a good week. You didn’t get that snow blower fixed yet?”
“Lucky? If I was lucky I wouldn’t be out here with a shovel I can tell you that. Snow blower’s in the shop, I’ll pick it up when we get back.”
“Sorry about that. I’d have sent my nephew Ryan over if I knew it was still on the fritz. He cleared ours this mornin’. What time you guys flying out? You need me to drive you and Lori out there?”
“Flight leaves at a quarter after six tomorrow morning. We’re gonna drive and leave the car at the park -n- fly lot; cheaper than parking at the airport. You know they raised the rates over there again?”
“Yeah, I heard that. Figures, they’ve gotta fund all that tearing up they’re doing over there. Six AM flight eh’, damn that’s early Joel. Probably better I’m not driving you, I’m a deadbeat till about nine.”
“Yeah, it’s early alright. I figure Lor and I can get some sleep on the plane. It’s about a four and half hour direct flight. Funny thing is, we had to do a little searching to find that flight. All the charter carriers had outbound flights around dinner time. I don’t know what that’s all about, it seems to be a new trend. You know the adage, lose the first day, lose the last day when you’re traveling…”
“Well shit, I should say so. You fly outta here at six PM and by the time you’re checking into your hotel it’s damn near midnight.”
“Exactly. I figure it’s worth an extra forty bucks to have the luxury of being checked into the hotel and lounging on the beach sipping some rum punch by noon. We get there earlier, chances are we’ll get a better room too.”
“Good point. Course you don’t spend but a wink in there anyhow now do ya?”
“Not if I can help it. It’s going to take all seven days to get the chill outta these bones.”
“Well you two have a blast. Looks like you’ve already been working on that tan. I’ll send Ryan over if we get any snow while you’re gone. Here’s twenty bucks. Bring me back a bottle of rum if you’ve got the room for it.”
“Keep it. My treat for you sending Ryan over. Besides, for twenty bucks I could bring you back about five bottles. I tell you when we were in St. Thomas last year they had a bottle of Cruzan for four bucks?”
As John was pocketing the twenty, “Figures. No wonder everyone in the islands are smiling. Hell I’d be smiling too with a four dollar bottle of rum in one hand and a multi million dollar yacht at anchor in some turquoise bay.” As he crossed the street back to his place he hollered back to Joel, “Be sure and have one for me and Bev will ya?”
“That’s one a day right?”
Joel finished shoveling the last of the walkway leading up the deck. He put the shovel back in the garage and brushed off his pants then headed into the house where Lori was still going through a vast selection of outfits laid out on the living room floor. Joel couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. She did this every year; packing enough clothes to last an entire summer. He was certain she’d be asking him any minute if he either had extra room in his suitcase or if he thought she should bring another suitcase.
“Honey, should I bring my tan sandals or my white ones?”
Joel knew this was unsafe territory, no matter how he sliced or diced it, chances were she’d end up bringing both. “Whatever pair will go best with your outfits.”
“Maybe I’ll just bring them both. Do you have room for my toiletry bag in your suitcase?”
Joel knew it was too late. He’d been defeated. It’d go much easier if he just went along with it from here. “I’m bringing my big suitcase because my snorkel gear won’t fit in the smaller one but yeah, I’ve got some extra room.”
“Oh. You’re bringing your large suitcase? Well, maybe I’ll just bring my large one too.”
At this point Joel couldn’t help himself and bust out laughing.
“What!? I’m over packing again aren’t I?”
“I didn’t say anything. I’m just laughing. You do whatever you want.”
“Well maybe I’ll just bring the tan ones.”
“Whatever you want to do. I’ve got some extra room in my suitcase. Are we all set otherwise?”
“Yeah. I just have to finish packing. You can unload the dishwasher but other than that, everything else should be all set. I put all the travel docs and the traveler’s checks in my purse. Oh yeah, I’ll put your passport in there too.”
“Okay, I’ll go unload the dishwasher then I’m going to take a shower unless you’re going to take one.”
“No, go ahead. I took one when I got home from work. I’m going to finish this up and I’m going to bed to read. I bought a new book for vacation and I thought I’d read the first couple of chapters. Don’t wake me when you come to bed.”
“Sounds good. Sleep tight. I love you.” Joel bent down and gave her a kiss. “Don’t forget to pack your Dramamine.”
“That was the first thing I packed.”
Chapter 2
Still sweating profusely and swatting at apparently nothing at all, Alan thought he heard the roar of twin diesel engines off in the distance. He let out an audible sigh as the silhouette against the fiery sun came around the point into view, the black image on the horizon getting larger and the roar of the engines louder, as it made it’s way closer to shore. Then suddenly everything was still. While not opposed to being on the water, Alan was not a huge fan of being in it. Despite the fact, he was anxious to get some relief from the heat and humidity as much as he was eager to get away from here and onto the boat. His nerves were borderline shot and the sooner he could wrap things up with the short statured man and his two companions, the better. He kicked off his loafers, throwing them, his wallet and cell phone into a dry bag, curled his toes into the cool sand, and then slowly proceeded to wade out as the short statured man called out to him.
“It was a pleasure doing business with you Mr. Thorpe. We’ll be in touch. I do hope you enjoy your accommodations. And please, do say hello to Carlinton for us won’t you.”
“Carlinton?”
“The gentleman aboard the boat Mr. Thorpe.”
“Oh yeah yeah..him. Yeah, I’ll do that.”
The water was halfway up to Alan’s knees as he trudged forward into the open water. The boat didn’t appear to be too far out and it was Alan’s thinking that he’d reach the boat without getting in too far over his head. He figured the dry bag would provide some buoyancy and with any luck, the guy aboard the boat would throw him a line. With so much commotion at the docks, between tourists and local fisherman, it was Alan’s suggestion that the transaction go down like this to avoid any unnecessary attention to himself. Certainly there were quite a number of people he could think of who would not be too keen on a supposedly bankrupt man paying five million in cash for an 80 foot Hatteras. With the water now at Alan’s chest, the boat seemed a little farther out than he thought it had been when he was standing on shore. With about another twenty five yards to go, and losing traction on the ocean floor, he grabbed onto the dry bag and began to swim. As he came up to the rear platform he noticed the U.S. and British flags flapping in the salty breeze as the man they called Carlinton grabbed his dry bag and offered a hand; helping Alan aboard.
“Good evening Mr. Thorpe and welcome aboard. My name is Carlinton. I’ll be pulling up anchor and directing us southeast at twenty knots. Once we get around the point and a bit further out we’ll cruise to thirty five.”
Alan wasn’t positive on the accent but he guessed as much that the guy was a native of the islands. Which island he wasn’t sure but definitely Caribbean. Accepting a plush towel, he dried himself off and proceeded through the sliding door towards the interior of the boat. The interior, as Alan expected, was exquisitely crafted and designed to his specifications. As he sized up the accommodations, Carlinton directed him towards the master suite and bathroom.
“She is indeed a beauty. You have very good taste Mr. Thorpe and I offer my compliments on the sky lounge. The detail is remarkable. I thank you for the opportunity to come aboard and be of service. The master suite and bathroom, as you know, are right through there. I gather you will want to freshen up.”
“I think the swim from shore took care of most of the dirt.” Looking around, “It’s amazing what you can get for five million isn’t it. You seem like a good guy Carlinton. I’d like to keep you on board for a while. Been around boats long?”
“My entire life. I was born on a boat of the coast of Belize.”
Alan wouldn’t have guessed Belize. “Well then. Looks like you’ll have no problem piloting this beast. Let’s get her turned around then. I think a shower and a scotch would fix me right up. You a scotch man Carlinton?”
“Rum’s my vice Sir.”
“Well there’s nothing wrong with that. You can call me Alan.”
“Alan it is. Excuse me then won’t you. If you’re hungry, I have some fresh snapper I can prepare once we are out on the open water.”
“That sounds like a plan.”
After a shower, fresh change of clothes, and a tour of the remainder of the cabin and galley; stopping at the bar to pour two glasses of Appleton rum, Alan made his way up the staircase to the fly bridge, stopping momentarily to assess the décor of the sky lounge, where Carlinton was at the wheel.
Alan Thorpe’s throat was dry. He stood watching as the horizon bled upward a sort of magenta color commonly found on half a dozen postcards sold in the various shops in an around Mallory Square. The humidity was stifling and the no see-ums had already coated the front side of his Tommy Bahama shirt which was pasted to his backside like a second skin. The shoreline was virtually deserted except for a few stragglers at the far eastern end. Alan wasn’t certain if they were tourists or simply homeless. Key West was hardly the ideal beach lover’s paradise. Everyone who came, likely came to drink and bounce up and down Duval street. Alan couldn’t help but wish how much he’d rather be spending his time amongst the locals, or “Conchs” as they’re commonly referred to. In Key West, there exist two different kinds of Conchs. There are those who are native to the keys and then there are the freshwater variety which consisted of mainlanders who had come to the keys and had opted to stay. Alan Thorpe was neither of these. What he was, was, at once, a prominent corporate law attorney from New York’s lower Manhattan district. A man of recognition, a man with considerable ties, and a man who, like many before him, had come to Florida because of a certain lackadaisical approach to bankruptcy laws. None of that made any difference to the people he’d been down here dealing with however, and it was beginning to look more and more like he was going to have to call upon some of those considerable ties.
“Christ it’s hotter than hell. I could go for a couple of cold ones; maybe some goddamn bug spray too. I’m getting murdered over here.”
The stranger at his side elicited no reply aside from a sly smirk. He was rather short in stature and Alan had noted at how bronzed his skin was. He wore a pair of faded cut-offs and equally worn flip flops and ironically, a yellowed Green Parrot shirt that read “no sniveling”. Alan thought for a moment that maybe he didn’t understand English. That certainly wasn’t going to do much in the way of easing his nerves. Nor would it aid in this current operation.
“Comprende’ cerveza? Es muy caliente.”
Alan began swatting furiously at the back of his neck, arms and legs. “Fucking wetbacks” he thought to himself. He wasn’t sure but he thought he heard a chuckle coming from the man at his right.
“First things first Mr. Thorpe. There will be plenty of time for you to indulge your pleasures. The boat will be along shortly where it will be anchored and you will wade out to it. The man aboard will take you where it is you wish to go. You do of course have the money.”
It wasn’t so much a question as a statement of fact. It had caught Alan completely off guard and brought about a brief nauseous ness like a swift kick to the groin.
“Yeah, yeah, I got the money. Non-sequential hundreds. The southernmost five million on this goddamn island. It’s in the trunk of that Mercedes over there.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, like a hitchhiker, to the southernmost Mercedes; the only car on the street. Down here on the southern tip that looked out to Cuba, everything was considered the southernmost of the U.S.
♦ ♦ ♦
Joel Benson was just finishing up the driveway when his neighbor John strolled over.
“Lucky bastard; bet you’re glad you won’t be shoveling that shit for a good week. You didn’t get that snow blower fixed yet?”
“Lucky? If I was lucky I wouldn’t be out here with a shovel I can tell you that. Snow blower’s in the shop, I’ll pick it up when we get back.”
“Sorry about that. I’d have sent my nephew Ryan over if I knew it was still on the fritz. He cleared ours this mornin’. What time you guys flying out? You need me to drive you and Lori out there?”
“Flight leaves at a quarter after six tomorrow morning. We’re gonna drive and leave the car at the park -n- fly lot; cheaper than parking at the airport. You know they raised the rates over there again?”
“Yeah, I heard that. Figures, they’ve gotta fund all that tearing up they’re doing over there. Six AM flight eh’, damn that’s early Joel. Probably better I’m not driving you, I’m a deadbeat till about nine.”
“Yeah, it’s early alright. I figure Lor and I can get some sleep on the plane. It’s about a four and half hour direct flight. Funny thing is, we had to do a little searching to find that flight. All the charter carriers had outbound flights around dinner time. I don’t know what that’s all about, it seems to be a new trend. You know the adage, lose the first day, lose the last day when you’re traveling…”
“Well shit, I should say so. You fly outta here at six PM and by the time you’re checking into your hotel it’s damn near midnight.”
“Exactly. I figure it’s worth an extra forty bucks to have the luxury of being checked into the hotel and lounging on the beach sipping some rum punch by noon. We get there earlier, chances are we’ll get a better room too.”
“Good point. Course you don’t spend but a wink in there anyhow now do ya?”
“Not if I can help it. It’s going to take all seven days to get the chill outta these bones.”
“Well you two have a blast. Looks like you’ve already been working on that tan. I’ll send Ryan over if we get any snow while you’re gone. Here’s twenty bucks. Bring me back a bottle of rum if you’ve got the room for it.”
“Keep it. My treat for you sending Ryan over. Besides, for twenty bucks I could bring you back about five bottles. I tell you when we were in St. Thomas last year they had a bottle of Cruzan for four bucks?”
As John was pocketing the twenty, “Figures. No wonder everyone in the islands are smiling. Hell I’d be smiling too with a four dollar bottle of rum in one hand and a multi million dollar yacht at anchor in some turquoise bay.” As he crossed the street back to his place he hollered back to Joel, “Be sure and have one for me and Bev will ya?”
“That’s one a day right?”
Joel finished shoveling the last of the walkway leading up the deck. He put the shovel back in the garage and brushed off his pants then headed into the house where Lori was still going through a vast selection of outfits laid out on the living room floor. Joel couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. She did this every year; packing enough clothes to last an entire summer. He was certain she’d be asking him any minute if he either had extra room in his suitcase or if he thought she should bring another suitcase.
“Honey, should I bring my tan sandals or my white ones?”
Joel knew this was unsafe territory, no matter how he sliced or diced it, chances were she’d end up bringing both. “Whatever pair will go best with your outfits.”
“Maybe I’ll just bring them both. Do you have room for my toiletry bag in your suitcase?”
Joel knew it was too late. He’d been defeated. It’d go much easier if he just went along with it from here. “I’m bringing my big suitcase because my snorkel gear won’t fit in the smaller one but yeah, I’ve got some extra room.”
“Oh. You’re bringing your large suitcase? Well, maybe I’ll just bring my large one too.”
At this point Joel couldn’t help himself and bust out laughing.
“What!? I’m over packing again aren’t I?”
“I didn’t say anything. I’m just laughing. You do whatever you want.”
“Well maybe I’ll just bring the tan ones.”
“Whatever you want to do. I’ve got some extra room in my suitcase. Are we all set otherwise?”
“Yeah. I just have to finish packing. You can unload the dishwasher but other than that, everything else should be all set. I put all the travel docs and the traveler’s checks in my purse. Oh yeah, I’ll put your passport in there too.”
“Okay, I’ll go unload the dishwasher then I’m going to take a shower unless you’re going to take one.”
“No, go ahead. I took one when I got home from work. I’m going to finish this up and I’m going to bed to read. I bought a new book for vacation and I thought I’d read the first couple of chapters. Don’t wake me when you come to bed.”
“Sounds good. Sleep tight. I love you.” Joel bent down and gave her a kiss. “Don’t forget to pack your Dramamine.”
“That was the first thing I packed.”
Chapter 2
Still sweating profusely and swatting at apparently nothing at all, Alan thought he heard the roar of twin diesel engines off in the distance. He let out an audible sigh as the silhouette against the fiery sun came around the point into view, the black image on the horizon getting larger and the roar of the engines louder, as it made it’s way closer to shore. Then suddenly everything was still. While not opposed to being on the water, Alan was not a huge fan of being in it. Despite the fact, he was anxious to get some relief from the heat and humidity as much as he was eager to get away from here and onto the boat. His nerves were borderline shot and the sooner he could wrap things up with the short statured man and his two companions, the better. He kicked off his loafers, throwing them, his wallet and cell phone into a dry bag, curled his toes into the cool sand, and then slowly proceeded to wade out as the short statured man called out to him.
“It was a pleasure doing business with you Mr. Thorpe. We’ll be in touch. I do hope you enjoy your accommodations. And please, do say hello to Carlinton for us won’t you.”
“Carlinton?”
“The gentleman aboard the boat Mr. Thorpe.”
“Oh yeah yeah..him. Yeah, I’ll do that.”
The water was halfway up to Alan’s knees as he trudged forward into the open water. The boat didn’t appear to be too far out and it was Alan’s thinking that he’d reach the boat without getting in too far over his head. He figured the dry bag would provide some buoyancy and with any luck, the guy aboard the boat would throw him a line. With so much commotion at the docks, between tourists and local fisherman, it was Alan’s suggestion that the transaction go down like this to avoid any unnecessary attention to himself. Certainly there were quite a number of people he could think of who would not be too keen on a supposedly bankrupt man paying five million in cash for an 80 foot Hatteras. With the water now at Alan’s chest, the boat seemed a little farther out than he thought it had been when he was standing on shore. With about another twenty five yards to go, and losing traction on the ocean floor, he grabbed onto the dry bag and began to swim. As he came up to the rear platform he noticed the U.S. and British flags flapping in the salty breeze as the man they called Carlinton grabbed his dry bag and offered a hand; helping Alan aboard.
“Good evening Mr. Thorpe and welcome aboard. My name is Carlinton. I’ll be pulling up anchor and directing us southeast at twenty knots. Once we get around the point and a bit further out we’ll cruise to thirty five.”
Alan wasn’t positive on the accent but he guessed as much that the guy was a native of the islands. Which island he wasn’t sure but definitely Caribbean. Accepting a plush towel, he dried himself off and proceeded through the sliding door towards the interior of the boat. The interior, as Alan expected, was exquisitely crafted and designed to his specifications. As he sized up the accommodations, Carlinton directed him towards the master suite and bathroom.
“She is indeed a beauty. You have very good taste Mr. Thorpe and I offer my compliments on the sky lounge. The detail is remarkable. I thank you for the opportunity to come aboard and be of service. The master suite and bathroom, as you know, are right through there. I gather you will want to freshen up.”
“I think the swim from shore took care of most of the dirt.” Looking around, “It’s amazing what you can get for five million isn’t it. You seem like a good guy Carlinton. I’d like to keep you on board for a while. Been around boats long?”
“My entire life. I was born on a boat of the coast of Belize.”
Alan wouldn’t have guessed Belize. “Well then. Looks like you’ll have no problem piloting this beast. Let’s get her turned around then. I think a shower and a scotch would fix me right up. You a scotch man Carlinton?”
“Rum’s my vice Sir.”
“Well there’s nothing wrong with that. You can call me Alan.”
“Alan it is. Excuse me then won’t you. If you’re hungry, I have some fresh snapper I can prepare once we are out on the open water.”
“That sounds like a plan.”
After a shower, fresh change of clothes, and a tour of the remainder of the cabin and galley; stopping at the bar to pour two glasses of Appleton rum, Alan made his way up the staircase to the fly bridge, stopping momentarily to assess the décor of the sky lounge, where Carlinton was at the wheel.
No comments:
Post a Comment