Tricky Business (34 page)

They had huddled in the near-darkness, occasionally hearing shouts and gunshots, not daring to go back outside. In time, Tina's fierce clinging had produced an involuntary reaction in Jock, one that Tina could not help but notice, as he was still naked. One thing had led to another, and pretty soon Tina was naked, too, and they were doing The Deed with the intensity of two people who thought the end might very well be nigh.

“Yes,” Tina was saying. “Oh yes.
YES.
Yesyesyesyes
YES.
”

“Yes,” agreed Jock.

“Hello?” said Ted.

“AAAIIEEEE,” said Tina, leaping up off Jock and scrambling to her feet. There was just enough light from the receding
Extravaganza
coming through the bridge window that Ted and Johnny both could see her entire body clearly for the three seconds it took her to find her blouse and hold it in front of her. They both knew immediately that they would treasure those three seconds for the rest of their lives.

“Oh,
man,
” said Johnny.

“Johnny, Ted?” said Jock. “That you?”

“Jock,” said Ted, “where the hell have you
been
?”

“I've been running all over the ship,” said Jock. “But listen, there are all these
dead
guys down there, and this guy was
shooting
at . . .”

“We know,” said Ted.

“You know?” said Jock.

“You wouldn't believe,” said Ted. “We'll talk about it later, but right now we need to use the radio on this boat to call the Coast Guard.”

“Why can't the captain call the Coast Guard?” said Jock.

“They shot the captain,” said Johnny.

“Oh man,” said Jock.

“Yeah,” said Johnny.

“So we're supposed to get on the radio, which is up here by the steering wheel somewhere, and call the Coast Guard,” said Ted. “We're supposed to tell them to come out here and rescue the ship.”

“We're not at the ship anymore,” said Tina, who was looking out the window.”

“What?” said Ted.

“The ship is way back there,” she said, pointing. “We're out here on our own.”

“Oh, MAN,” said Johnny.

THE FIRST THING THAT SURPRISED WALLY WAS that he found Fay, out there in the big waves, which turned out to be much bigger when he was in them than they had looked from the ship.

But he found her, found her pretty quickly, and—this was the second thing that surprised Wally—she was moving. She even had her head out of the water a little, though in the light from the ship he could see she was struggling.

He sidestroked to her, and she grabbed at him, and right then he was very glad that he'd brought the life preserver. Although now he was sorry he had not thought to bring two.

“It's OK,” he said. “It's OK. Hold this. You'll be OK. Hold on to this.”

She had the life preserver now and, feeling it support her, calmed down a little. She coughed up some water.

“You OK?” Wally said.

“I don't know,” she said.

“You'll be fine,” Wally said. The
Extravaganza
was getting farther and farther away, sometimes completely disappearing behind the waves. The sea around them was getting darker.

“What happened?” Fay said.

“You don't remember?” Wally said.

“No,” said Fay. “I remember I heard shots and came running back, but the last thing I remember was coming out the door.”

“When you came running out, the skinny guy shot at you, and you fell off the platform.”

“He shot at me?”

“Yeah. And you grabbed your head.”

Fay put her hand to her head, felt around, found something that felt wrong on the scalp on the right side. She pulled her hand away and felt that her fingers were sticky.

“He got my scalp,” she said.

“Are you OK?” said Wally.

“I think so,” she said. “It's bleeding, but I feel OK.”

“Good,” said Wally.

“So how'd you wind up in the water?” she said.

“I jumped in,” he said.

“You
jumped
in?” she said.

“To get you,” he said.

Fay thought about that.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Any time,” said Wally.

A big swell lifted them high. In the distance, they saw the
Extravaganza,
stern toward them, looking much smaller now. The swell passed, and they were down in a deep trough. They could hear the water high on each side of them, but they could not see it, because there was no light now.

“This is pretty bad, huh?” said Wally.

“I'm afraid so,” said Fay.

THERE WAS LIGHT NOW ON THE BRIDGE OF TARK'S boat; Ted had found a wall switch. Tina, to the disappointment of Johnny and Ted, was again fully dressed. Jock was still naked.

“OK,” said Ted, “we need to start the engine, so we can drive back to the ship.”

“I don't know that I want to go back to the ship,” said Tina.

“She's right,” said Jock. “There's guys shooting back there.”

“Plus,” said Johnny, “how're we gonna
find
the ship.”

The other three followed Johnny's gaze out the window: The
Extravaganza
was no longer visible.

“Well, we need to start the engine and go
somewhere,
” said Ted. “And we need to call the Coast Guard on the radio.”

“Let's go back to Miami,” said Johnny. “Back to land.”

That sounded pretty good to everybody.

“OK,” said Ted. “Anybody know how to drive a boat?” Nobody answered.

“All right, I'll try to start the boat,” said Ted. “You guys work the radio.”

“I'm gonna go downstairs and find some clothes,” said Jock. “I don't like being this naked.”

“Man,” said Johnny, “it smells
awful
down there.”

“I know that,” said Jock. “But it doesn't smell so great up here, either.” He glanced meaningfully at Tina, whose back was to him.

“What was
that
supposed to mean?” said Tina.

“Nothing,” said Jock, heading down the ladderway.

Tina turned to Ted and Johnny and repeated, “What was
that
supposed to mean?”

“Beats me,” said Ted, looking busy at the controls. “Listen, Johnny, I'll try to start the engine. And you work on the radio.”

“I think I'll open a window first,” said Johnny.

“Good idea,” said Ted. “Get some fresh air in here.”

 

“THAT'S NOT WEST,” SAID PHIL, FROM HIS SIDE of the steering wheel.

“Yes it is,” said Arnie, from his side.

“No it's not,” said Phil. “The W is supposed to be pointing straight at us.”

“It is.”

“No it isn't.”

“That's because you're at an angle, you idiot.”

“I'm not at an angle.
You're
at an angle.”

“Don't tell me I'm at an angle. I know when I'm at an angle.”

“Don't call me an idiot.”

“Idiot.”

“You're the idiot.”

“Oh I am, am I?”

“Yes, you are.”

“OK, fine, then.”

“Fine.”

They both shut up then, co-steering the massive ship in silence, each man thinking the same thing:

This was
great.

 

THE WORLD'S MOST VALUABLE INFLATABLE BOAT drifted north, carried by the Gulf Stream, rising and falling with the swells.

FAY REFUSED TO WEAR THE LIFE PRESERVER.

“You don't have one,” she pointed out.

“I didn't get shot in the head,” Wally replied.

But she wouldn't put it on. She insisted that they share it, one on each side, holding on. It provided some buoyancy, but not always quite enough for two, especially in some of the bigger swells, when they had to work to keep their heads up.

It was tiring, but they knew they couldn't relax, couldn't sleep. They couldn't do much of anything except hang on and wait for daylight. Although, when they thought about it—which they tried not to—they knew daylight would not significantly improve their situation.

What they could do was talk. Fay was pretty quiet at the beginning—Wally thought maybe she had a concussion, though he didn't want to say it—so at first Wally did most of the talking. He told Fay about his career as a musician, how he'd really thought, for a long time, that because he was as good as a lot of guys who made it—no, he was
better
than a lot of guys who made it—that he was bound to make it, too, to be famous and rich and travel in his own jet. He told her how he'd come to accept that none of that would ever happen, and how he'd come to feel, the older he got, more and more like a loser, still schlepping his guitar and amp around when other guys his age had careers and mortgages, but how he still loved the music, still couldn't see himself wanting to do anything else.

He told her about some of the gigs they'd played, like the private party at a spectacular mansion on Biscayne Bay owned by a billionaire real-estate developer, where they'd played in a living room the size of a tennis court, a bunch of rich people dancing in front of them, and there was a balcony at the back, and the trophy wife of the developer had appeared on the balcony and, looking straight at Jock, removed every article of her clothing, stood there naked for a good thirty seconds, then turned and walked off down the hall, and Jock had stopped the song right there with an improvised drum flourish, then stood up and announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, we're gonna take a short break.”

Fay actually laughed at that, out there among the big waves. She laughed again when Wally had told her about the Revenge Song, and how the band had changed its name to Johnny and the Contusions.

She fell silent when he talked about how he'd quit the band and tried to get a grown-up job, so Amanda would be happy with him, and how he'd gone to the office one night and watched her kiss her rich boss. He talked about how he was living with his mom now, and how he loved her but she was driving him crazy trying to make him eat waffles at eight in the morning and telling him over and over and over about the time she saw weatherman Bob Soper buying cold cuts at the Publix.

While Wally was talking about his mom, he realized Fay was crying. He asked her why, and that was when she began to talk. She told him how, right then, her mom was taking care of her little girl, Estelle, and the last time she'd talked to them, it hadn't gone well because Estelle was crying and her mom was being her usual combination of judgmental and wrong, but she knew her mom really loved her, and she really loved her mom, and she loved Estelle so much that she sometimes felt she couldn't bear the weight of it, and she wasn't afraid of dying so much as she was afraid of dying without ever holding Estelle again, ever kissing her hair, ever helping her act out the Snow White story, moving her little figurines around, making their squeaky little voices.