DoG (6 page)

“You’re stealing money from my pocket.”

“I’m not stealing nothing,” Gus said. “It’s the Captain’s call. And besides, you all get your share of what we caught so far.”

“Yeah, but that’s only half of what we got coming to us,” Worner said, clenching his weathered hands into fists. “Is the Captain going to pay us the difference?”

“What do you think?” Gus replied.

“I think he can go fuck himself, and so can you.” McGillicuddy pressed up

against Gus, towering over him. Culann thought for a moment that the first mate was going to get tossed into the sea. “He can’t jew us out of our shares. I’m gonna set him straight.”

McGillicuddy shoved Gus aside with a brush of his broad arm. Gus grabbed the arm and yanked McGillicuddy back. He shoved his face into that of the larger man, causing Culann to now worry that McGillicuddy was about to get thrown over the side.

“You go fuck
your
self, you dumb Mick,” Gus said “The Captain said that anyone who gives him any shit about this is not going with us next year. And you know damn well that your lazy ass doesn’t have any other worked lined up this summer.”

McGillicuddy turned away from Gus and headed over to the rail to spit into the ocean.

“What the hell else are we supposed to do?” Worner asked. “Sell insurance?”

“That’s not my problem,” Gus replied. “All I know is that if you want to ever work on this ship again, you better leave the Captain alone.”

37

“Why’s he doing this?” Frank asked.

“You think he tells me?” Gus replied. “He just said, ‘Tell them we’re going home.’ I tried arguing, but he told me I’d be out for next year if I didn’t shut up, same as you guys.”

“How do we even know there’s going to be a next year?” Frank asked.

“We don’t,” Gus answered. “But I sure as hell can’t take that risk.”

“I can,” said Worner. “I’m old and I don’t give a fuck. If he wants to blackball me, I can live with that.”

“Give him hell, Worner,” Frank shouted. “If he doesn’t knock this shit off, we’ll go on strike right now. He can’t get this ship back home by himself.”

A short cheer of solidarity arose from the crew.

“Fuck a strike,” McGillicuddy said, turning back to face the crew. “How about a mutiny?”

A louder cheer arose.

“You want me to go with you?” Frank asked.

“I think I can handle it,” Worner replied.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you,” Gus warned.

“Listen, man. I’ve crawled through jungle full of cobras and landmines. I’ve had Viet Cong shooting at me from twenty feet away. That son of a bitch doesn’t scare me.”

Gus shook his head.

“Besides,” Worner continued with a grin, “my granddad’s lucky cannonball is in my bedroll. Nothing bad can happen to me while it’s on the ship.”

Worner marched to the bridge, regaining the military bearing of his Army days.

He held his head high and swung his arms purposefully from his squared shoulders. As he came within ten feet of the bridge, the door banged open, and out stepped the Captain.

He held a revolver in his hand, which he pointed at Worner’s head. Worner stopped. The crew stood silently as the two men stared at one another. Worner raised his hands and eased back a few steps. After a few moments, the Captain lowered his weapon and returned to the bridge.

There was no more talk of a strike, much less a mutiny.

38

8

“That bastard pulled iron on me,” Worner said as they enjoyed their last dinner together aboard the
Orthrus
. “I don’t believe it.”

“Do you think he was serious?” Culann asked. He didn’t have much experience with guns. Having come from a town where handguns were banned, it had been shocking to see one brandished so easily.

“He was serious,” McGillicuddy said. “I don’t know a thing about that man

except that he is always serious. Worner’s lucky to be going home in one piece.”

“Oh, balls,” Worner said. “That’s not the first gun that’s been pointed at me. I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

“Well this may be par for the course for John Wayne here,” McGillicuddy said,

“but I’d have been pissing my pants.”

“No doubt about that,” Worner said with a smile. He leaned back and scratched the long, ropy bicep of his left arm with his right hand. “You draft-dodging pussy.”

“Yep, I dodged the draft by about twenty years.”

“I’m glad you two pricks can joke about his,” Frank said. He shook his

downturned head, causing his bushy beard to brush against his stained t-shirt. “I needed that money. I’m screwed.”

“Then I must be double-screwed,” Culann said, “since I’m living on your couch.”

It was more than that. This voyage was supposed to be Culann’s trial by fire, where he would emerge a better man or die trying. By cutting it short, he was losing his chance at redemption. He needed to find a new way to prove himself to himself.

“It’s that thing we fished out of the water,” McGillicuddy said. “That’s what the Captain was looking for. That’s why he called it off.”

“Makes as much sense as anything,” Frank said, “but who cares why he did it?”

“Wait a minute,” Culann said, “McGillicuddy might be on to something. We

found the orb, and then the Captain sent us home within a matter of minutes. Maybe it’s just a coincidence, but we don’t have any other theories.”

“So what?” Frank replied.

“Well,” Culann continued, “assuming the theory is correct, it stands to reason that the orb is worth more to the Captain than two weeks worth of fish.”

“Who cares?”

“Well, technically I’m the one who found it.”

“You want that thing?” Frank asked.

“I didn’t before, but we have to consider the possibility that it’s valuable. Maybe we can sell it to recoup our losses. Even if we can’t, I want it just so the Captain doesn’t get to have it.”

“So what are you gonna do?” McGillicuddy asked. “Tell him ‘finders keepers’?”

39

“I’m going to steal it back,” Culann answered.

The thought had not occurred to him until it emerged from his mouth, but he realized this was what he had to. By stealing the orb, Culann could face danger and right an injustice. This was the quest he needed to complete. This idea pushed rational thoughts out of Culann’s mind.

“He’ll kill you, greenhorn,” Worner said.

Stealing the orb would not be easy. It was somewhere on the bridge, but Culann didn’t know where. In fact, Culann had never stepped foot on the bridge, nor had anyone else besides Gus, so he had no idea where he’d be looking. From the portholes, Culann could only see the steering wheel and some of the instruments; he didn’t know how far back the bridge went. The Captain didn’t sleep with the rest of the crew below deck or dine with them in the mess, so there had to be some kind of living accommodations connected to the bridge, but Culann didn’t have a clue what the layout might be. Plus, if the orb was as valuable as they were hoping it was, the Captain wouldn’t just leave it lying out in plain sight. To top it all off, the Captain only ever left the bridge to smoke his cigars or to point a gun at Worner.

“Give it up,” Frank said. “It can’t be done. All you’re going to do is get yourself kicked off the ship, maybe killed.”

He and Culann were the only two members of the crew still awake. Having only slept a few hours a night for the past two weeks, the others hopped into their bunks right after dinner. As angry as they were, the prospect of a good night’s sleep was too inviting.

“What about Gus?” Culann asked. “You think he could help us?”

“First off, what’s this ‘us’ shit? I don’t mind you shacking up with me up here, but I’m not getting shot for you. This is your crazy idea, and you’re going to have to go it alone.”

“Fine. Do you think Gus would help me?”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, you’re not exactly Gus’s favorite person in the world.

Besides, he needs this job. He’s got a daughter to take care of. He’s not gonna stick his dick on the line because you got some wild idea that this thing is worth money.”

“But Gus was just as mad about going home as everybody else. Maybe even more so.”

“Yeah, but mad don’t mean crazy. Let’s say you somehow manage to steal that thing. What happens when you find out it’s some worthless magician’s prop that fell off a cruise ship?”

“It doesn’t matter what it’s worth to me. It is obviously worth something to the Captain. That alone is reason enough to take it.”

Frank eyed his cousin for a moment.

“What’s this really about?” he asked. “Why are you so hell-bent on doing this?”

Culann paused before answering, “I need to do something, Frank. Something

big.”

40

“Why?”

“To make up for what I did.”

“C’mon, Culann, You said yourself that it was all a misunderstanding. There’s no sense getting yourself killed because some little girl’s daddy went ape shit.”

“Whatever happened changed my life. It doesn’t matter if I was culpable or not. I can’t go back to the way things used to be. I need to start a new life up here, and to do that I need to become a new person. A month at sea would have done that, but the Captain took it away from me.”

“What’s the difference between two weeks and a month? You’re already a hell of a lot tougher than you were when you got here.”

“The difference is that I set out to do a month, not two weeks. The goal doesn’t matter, but once the goal is set, I need to achieve it. Since I can’t do a month at sea, I need to do something else.”

“Okay, but why do have to steal this thing from the Captain? Why don’t you pick some other stupid scheme that won’t get you shot? Hell, we can get on another ship, and then you go prove how tough you are to some other crew.”

“It’s not about proving anything to the crew. This is about me. Stealing the orb from the Captain is what popped in my head, and I can’t forget it now. The fact that it’s so hard tells me I’m on the right track. It’s got to be something big – this is like the Labors of Heracles.”

“The what?”

“Never mind. Just help me figure out how to do this.”

“I told you, you’re on your own here. I can’t get mixed up in this.”

“I’m not asking you to help me steal it. Just help me figure out how I can steal it.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Frank asked. “I don’t know where it is. I don’t know how you’re going to slip onto the bridge without the Captain shooting you full of holes.”

“I know that,” Culann replied. “I need you to help me figure out how to get Gus to help me.”

41

Diary of Culann Riordan, Day 5

I’ve had some time—a lot of time, actually—to think about all of the choices I
made that led me to my current predicament. Stealing the orb is pretty high on the list.

For one thing, it was really out of character for me. This is why Frank had such a hard
time figuring out why I was doing it. He was the adventure-seeker. I was generally more
concerned about my own comfort.

This isn’t entirely true, though. In stealing the orb, I acted on an impulse. To the
extent I even considered the consequences, I underestimated them. (Although there was of
course no way I could have foreseen what happened, I should have known
something
bad
would happen.) It was this type of behavior that got me exiled to Alaska in the first place.

So maybe all of my bad choices were part of one big character flaw. I suppose
this should be reassuring, since it means I can become a decent human being by just
fixing that one flaw. I just hope that flaw is not too big to fix.

And that I have enough time left to fix it.

42

9

Enlisting Gus’s aid proved less challenging than they’d thought. The old man wouldn’t help them steal the orb, of course, and they were pretty sure he’d rat them out if he found out what they were up to. But as long as he didn’t know they were planning to steal the orb, he’d have no reason to consider its whereabouts privileged information. It was simply a matter of striking up a conversation and eliciting the necessary information.

This is where Frank came in. Gus had spent the last seventeen days abusing Culann, so Culann had been doing his best to avoid the first mate, even when off the clock. He couldn’t now plop down next to Gus and start shooting the breeze without arousing suspicion. But Frank had earned the man’s respect—or at least tolerance—and it wouldn’t be out of character for him to chat with Gus.

At breakfast on their last day at sea, Gus sat alone at the end of one of the long, cafeteria-style tables in the mess. He normally ate with the other old-timers, but on this day he bore the brunt of the crew’s anger against the Captain. He responded to the ostracism with uncharacteristic good cheer. He smiled at nothing and made a great show of savoring his thirty-fourth straight serving of fresh-caught cod. It looked to Culann like the old man was working hard to show how little the crew’s ire bothered him.

“They leave you alone?” Frank said with his own forced smile as he sat down across from Gus. “Must be the smell.”

“You’re not exactly a perfume ad yourself, smartass,” Gus replied. His posture relaxed, and he allowed his artificial smile to fade into his usual scowl.

“What about you, greenhorn?” he asked Culann, who hovered in mock

nervousness above his cousin. “You gonna eat with me, or you giving me the cold shoulder, too?”

“Come on, cuz,” Frank said, “he won’t bite.”

Culann tried to project an air of surrender as he sat down next to his cousin.

“So it looks like you’re getting off easy,” Gus said to Culann.

“I was just getting the hang of things when the Captain called it off. I could have gone another couple of weeks.”

“I guess we’ll never know,” Gus replied.

“What do you think, Gus?” Frank asked. “Why do you think we’re going home?”

“No clue.”

“McGillicuddy thinks it’s the orb,” Frank continued.

“The what?” Gus responded.

“That weird ball Culann fished out.”

“Why didn’t you just say that?”