Caught (30 page)

Sit down, Ada, Patterson said. Just long enough for a little chat. I want to make you an offer. He raised his hand to the bartender and she came to the table with two beers and two glasses and they waited for her to wipe the table and lay down the coasters and place the beers.

I thought you might have died in that hurricane, Patterson said. I wished I’d had a chance to say something to you before you left.

We’re fine, Ada said.

Do you know that man is married? Patterson said. He suffers from mental illness. His wife and children are worried sick. He’s had breakdowns before. The stress here can destroy a man like Carter. My guess is you’re seeing symptoms of another nervous breakdown already.

Who are you? Ada asked. My God.

You could be a confidential informant, Patterson said. This is what I’m offering. You don’t appear in court. Nobody knows you said a thing. Your identity is never disclosed. I am a father too. I have a daughter your age. I think of your father. I’m telling you there’s a way out of this for you. This is an offer.

She stood up and gripped the back of her chair with both hands. She looked as if the chair were alive with a current or spirit and she were struggling to keep it from flying through the air and smashing against his skull. He saw the same girl who had been playing the piano that night at Hearn’s. The feral, grounded voltage of emotion.

Hear me out, he said. A rooster came through the door then, black and rust, a white speckled throat, an angry and inquisitive strut.

Maybe you’ve been coerced, Patterson said. Maybe you didn’t know the implications. You’re a young girl. Your whole life ahead of you. I want to tell you how moved I was listening to your music. I won’t lie; it was unsettling. You have a gift. Maybe you have a responsibility to it. I don’t know what you have.

The rooster stood still, its wattles a grotesque red, quivering and wrinkled.

Maybe nobody told you there were drugs, Patterson said. Perhaps the men hadn’t told you the whole story when you set out. You thought a vacation in Mexico. You didn’t know what was happening.

I knew, Ada said. Of course I knew. She became limp, her shoulders drooping, and she let go of the back of the chair and sank onto the seat.

If you don’t want to think about yourself, think about Carter. That man won’t last very long in prison.

Patterson kept talking. He told her it would be easy to cast her as an innocent bystander. He took a long drink of his beer.

Everyone involved will be going to jail for a very long time, Miss Anderson, he said. If you co-operate with us, things will be different for you. Carter, too. That’s a promise. Please, drink your beer.

No, thank you, she said.

Carter’s a very ill man, he said. Right now, if you co-operate, we see a much lighter sentence for Carter, and you go free. Maybe you go back with your father, pursue your career, forget all this ever happened. You’re just a kid here. Your whole life ahead. It’s really Hearn and Slaney we’re after. Or whatever you choose to call them. And believe me, they’re as good as caught already.

She put her elbows on the table and held her forehead with her hands. She stayed that way for a long moment. Then she looked up at him. How calculating and innocent. How reckless. He thought indomitable and tender. He didn’t know what to think. He had her. That’s what he thought.

All I’m asking: If Slaney decides to walk away, you let us know. If there’s a change of plans, you let us know. You make a phone call. If you’re blown off course, you let us know. You dock somewhere; you make a call. You get to a phone. You call us.

If you don’t want to do this for yourself, you do it for Carter. The bartender had come around the side of the bar with a broom. The bristles were neon pink nylon and she swished it at the rooster, ushering it toward the back door. It hop-skipped and swerved around a chair, through the door into the obliterating sunlight. They could hear it crowing outside.

A Visitor in the Night

Someone had come
into his room. He’d woken when the door closed. There was a bedside lamp and he switched it on. The lamp had a red shade and cast a glow.

Ada stood at the foot of his bed hugging her army surplus knapsack.

The room was doubled in the black glass of the window and spread on forever over the ocean. The white lines of surf from the beach below moved over her reflection.

She was digging in her knapsack and she tugged out the wrinkled bundle of a negligee. It was white, free-falling layers of gauze and lace, and there was a satin ribbon gathering the neck. She shook it out, holding one puffy sleeve between her finger and thumb. She flicked it twice to get rid of the wrinkles.

Are you drunk? Slaney asked. Where’s Carter?

Carter is drunk, she said. I want to sleep with you, David. I’m going to put on this nightgown and get in bed with you. I want you to hold me. Then I’m going back to bed with Carter and I don’t want to talk about it. Not ever.

You don’t need that nightgown, he said. But she went to the bathroom, and then stood in the doorway, wearing it. The gown fell to her knees and it was see-through. It floated around her naked body.

Do you like it? she asked. I was saving it for a special occasion.

I think this is pretty special, he said.

Ada lay down beside him. Slaney ran his hand over her belly and lifted the filmy gown up slowly so the ruffles and frills at the hem pooled over one hip and between her legs. He felt her ribs and the slope of her hip bone and he ran his knuckles over her nipples. He watched her breasts rise and fall. Then she moved her leg over him and they kissed. At first he hardly touched her, except to kiss. Then he touched her everywhere he could. He took his time.

He smeared up the gauzy veils of the gown and parted her legs and put his mouth on her and touched her with the tip of his tongue. It was like they had all the time in the world. She held his hair in her fists and twisted it. She was breathing short, shallow breaths and her thighs were trembling and she arched up into him and the sound she made when she came was a fast breath of surprise. Then she was straddling him and he held her ass with both hands and the nightgown tumbled in folds over his wrists and he lifted her down onto him and he was inside her. The bed smacked and smacked and he said, Let me see your face.

She tucked her hair behind her ears. She looked into his eyes. They looked at each other for a long time.

Then she braced herself with one hand flat against the wall over his head.

She looked as though someone were speaking to her and she had to listen very hard. Her eyes closed and she nodded now and then and she began to rock harder against him and faster.

Open your eyes, he said.

No.

Open them. I want to see your eyes, he said. Open them, come on, please. She opened her eyes but they fluttered and then they were closed tight, and there was a beautiful expression he hadn’t seen on her face before.

She was astonished or succumbing or, he realized, coming, maybe three times, maybe four. She spoke a few words and it was a phrase from a prayer.

Afterwards they lay side by side not touching at all. It was too hot to touch. He couldn’t handle the cotton bedsheet. She started to giggle.

What’s so funny? he said.

No, she said.

Tell me, he said. He ran the back of his finger over her breast, put his lips on the gauze over her nipple and felt the rough texture of it with his tongue. She was trembling, now, with giggles.

Tell me, he said. He rolled over on his elbow and looked at her. She was pressing her fingers to her eyes as if the laughter were leaking from there.

You won’t get away with it, she said. David. You are going to get caught. I came to tell you something. They’ll be waiting for you.

They can wait, he said. We won’t be there.

Where will we be? she asked.

Where they’ll least expect us.

The next morning
they hired a local guy to row them out to the boat. The man named Hernandez was on board already with several soldiers. They were all armed and standing at attention. Brophy was there already too and he introduced General Hernandez.

Carter was in high spirits; he liked the new sails.

Craftsmanship is superb, he said. He offered everyone a drink. The soldiers ignored him.

You have fuel and supplies, Hernandez said. No one will bother you in these waters.

Brophy nodded to Slaney and Slaney handed Hernandez the duffle bag with the forty grand. Three soldiers took the bag below deck to count the money and they all waited in the hot sun with their heads bowed, silent, as though in church. The soldiers came back up again with the duffle bag and nodded to Hernandez.

Everything is in order, gentlemen, Hernandez said. We will leave you now. I wish you a safe journey and good luck with your endeavours.

Very nice, Carter said. Thank you, sir. A pleasure doing business.

The soldiers disembarked, climbing into the two speedboats that were waiting below. Brophy was the last to go down the ladder. He wished them luck. He’d shaken hands with Carter and Ada.

You take care of that little girl you have there, Brophy told Carter. She’s a fine girl.

Slaney took Brophy’s hand in his and shook it firmly. He gripped Brophy’s elbow with his other hand. He held him there for a long moment.

Thanks, man, he said. Thanks for everything.

Let’s get out of here, Slaney said. Then he told Carter they had to change course.

We were set up, Slaney told him.

What are you talking about? Carter said.

We were set up, Carter. We can’t go back to Vancouver. They’re going to be waiting for us. They’ll confiscate the boat. Throw us in jail. We can’t go back.

Carter put his hands over his ears and stood for a long moment staring at the deck.

What’s happening, Ada, he yelled. Ada? What’s happening here? But she was looking out over the rail of the boat at the water and didn’t turn to him.

I want to head back to Newfoundland, Slaney said. Let’s go home, Carter.

We’d have to go through the Panama Canal, Carter said. Ada turned to Carter then with her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

The boat handles differently with the extra weight, Ada said. The line handler in the canal will know as soon as he steps on board.

We pay off the line handler, Slaney said. Pay off Customs. Use the twenty-five thou left from the deal with Lopez.

Cyril, it’s so risky, Ada said. They’re on to us, David already told you that. I don’t think we should keep going.

It takes thirty hours to get through the canal, give or take, Carter said. We’d have to skip the line or you can end up waiting forever just to get in. Once you’re in, you just sit pretty and the line handler takes you through. I don’t know, Slaney. They could lock us up down there and nobody would ever hear from us again.

The whole country is propped up with drug money, Slaney said. It won’t be hard to find the right line handler.

Listen to me, Cyril, Ada said. We could just dump the cargo.

It’s a couple of million dollars, Slaney hissed at her. He flung his arm out, pointing toward the cargo below deck. We can’t give up now, he said. We’re almost there. Ada, I didn’t want you involved. But you’re here. You wanted to be a part of it. Now you’ve got to see this through.

Ada put her hands on Carter’s face.

Look at me, Cyril, she said. Look at me. I am asking you for this. You said you’d give me anything I wanted. This is what I want. I want you to listen.

Honey, Cyril said. It was as though he’d just noticed her. He took her hands off his face and pressed them between his own. He rubbed them vigorously as if they were cold and he had to warm them.

Tonight, when it’s dark, Ada said. We could toss the whole lot of it overboard. We could just sail home. They know about the cargo, Cyril. It’s too risky to keep going now.

But Carter was staring hard at the deck, his hands held out before him, gently slicing them through the air, as if marking off the miles, calculating the route. Then he was wringing his hands together, muttering with his eyes shut tight. He’d forgotten all about Ada. Then his eyes flew open and he grabbed her shoulders and drew her into his chest. He held her like that in a hard grip.

Ada, he said. This is the real beginning for us. This is the test. We’re going to sail through it. We’re going to make it. I want to believe you’re with me. I want us to do this together.

You can do this, Ada, Slaney said. We’re through the worst of it now. Clear sailing ahead. There’s no way they can catch us. They think we’re on the way to Van-fucking-couver.

I feel like a drink, Carter said. Anybody else feel like a drink?

I’d have a drink with you, Slaney said. Come on, Ada. Let’s drink to the trip.

Let’s turn this baby around, Carter yelled. He raised a triumphant fist in the air.

I’ll get the bottle, Ada said.

So you’re in? Carter said.

I’m in, my love, she said. It might be crazy, but I’m in.

I knew it, Carter said. I knew I could count on you. This is why I fell in love, David. Look at her. Just look.

Where we headed, Captain? Slaney asked.

The Caribbean has a strong east-to-west current, Carter said. We’ll be up against the trade winds.

We want to avoid sandbars near the Turks and Caicos and the Bahamas, and those waters are lousy with coastal patrols, Slaney said. We learned that the hard way the last time around.

So we head northwest first, Carter said. Get ourselves to Cuba, and then head northeast.

That’s the route Hearn and I took the first time, Slaney said. That’ll get us there.

Then the Gulf Stream carries us home, Carter said. But we move now, before the sea gets rough up there. We have to beat the bad weather.

They sailed all day and the weather was beautiful. Ada finished reading
Tender Is the Night
and when she was done she threw it over the side.

They went ashore in Panama to get supplies and split up on the dock. Ada hired a horse-drawn cart to take her to the market. Slaney and Carter hung around the dock in a filthy bar until they found the line man they needed and negotiated a price. And Slaney went to place a call to Hearn. Tell him to meet them in Newfoundland.