Captains Outrageous Page 9

  “Fine,” I said. “One more day.”

  She put some grounds in a pot and started coffee. It was so dark and rich with aroma it made my nose hairs quiver. I had a feeling it wasn’t decaf. She located some more bread and cheese and took it to Leonard. We sat in the room with him and ate the same. Beatrice brought us cups of coffee. After two cups I felt as if I had been blackjacked and ass-kicked.

  In spite of the food and coffee, Leonard drifted back to sleep. Beatrice smiled at me. She wiggled her finger for me to come, stood up, and went out of the room.

  We went back to her bedroom and went to bed. We made love one more time. I was lucky she wasn’t like Brett. I wouldn’t have had enough rubbers.

  At least it had been that way for a while.

  After we lay together for a while, Beatrice led me out on the back porch and showed me how a shower was set up there with a pull chain. The water was in a big tin reservoir. It was put there by the rain and sometimes brought in from outside, but there was only so much water, she said, so we showered together. Which wasn’t something I considered a drawback.

  As I soaped her up in the pink morning light her breasts, damp with the water from the homemade shower, were dark and slick under my touch, and the thick nipples were tantalizing. I liked the way the soap foamed over them and the way the water plastered her hair to her head, which in the light of day I could see held streaks of gray. I liked the way the water beaded in her pubic hair. Her eyes were deep and dark, her face was full of an expression that showed me there was plenty to like and a lot that was hard to understand. She was a real mystery. I liked that. I liked it so much I kissed her.

  * * *

  About two that afternoon I helped Leonard make it out to the outdoor convenience, stood by outside while he finished, trying to stand far enough away I didn’t have to hear the usual bathroom sounds.

  “It’s great to have a valet,” Leonard called through the toilet walls.

  “Yeah, well, just don’t ask me to wipe your ass for you.”

  “Hap?”

  “What?”

  “There’s a Mexican catalogue in here.”

  “It’s Mexico, you moron.”

  “I mean, that’s what you wipe your ass with. Pages from it.”

  “Ouch.”

  Back in the house, Beatrice, dressed in a simple white cotton dress with red and purple flowers stitched on it, searched through her shelf of books, found Leonard a book in English, Andrew Vachss’s Dead and Gone, left it with him along with a bottle of water, bread and cheese, and a cup of coffee.

  She and I drove into town so I could try and make some kind of arrangements to get home. As we drove along with the sand blowing up and making clouds on the road, she said, “I was supposed to be at the boat this morning, to help.”

  “What are you going to tell your father?”

  “I will not tell him that I was servicing you.”

  “I hear that. Hey. Wasn’t I servicing you too?”

  “You were. You did good.”

  “Great. Good dog. Want me to fetch your slippers?”

  Beatrice laughed her musical laugh.

  “Will he be mad?” I asked.

  “No. He does not make me work on the boat. It is as I said last night. I feel obligated.”

  “Thanks for going against your obligation this morning.”

  “That is all right. Even the obligated must have, how do you say it, ashes hauled?”

  “Close enough. But, you know, I hate it for your father. I mean, he helps us out, then we mess up his schedule. I make love to his daughter.”

  “He likes to take José out. José goes with him often. José or his brothers. He enjoys being able to give them a little money. They are even poorer than we are. Father catches quite a few fish. But if he caught all the fish in the ocean, he would only make so much money. It is not a rich life, the life of a fisherman.”

  “I hear that.”

  In town we stopped at a little café near the dock. Outside the café the smell was briny and strong of fish. Inside the café there was the smell of cooking fish, and that unique smell of hot sauces and fresh tortillas.

  I used some of the money I had to treat Beatrice to lunch, reminded myself to stop by later and get something for Leonard.

  We had spicy fish with beans and rice and tortillas. As we ate, I halfway expected one of the cops from across the bay to come in, but that was probably just fearful thinking. Even though the towns of Playa del Carmen and Cozumel were separated only by water, it was enough water unless the renegade cops made regular pilgrimages here.

  When we finished, Beatrice had coffee while I found a pay phone that worked near the restaurant and called John’s number using my calling card. I got the answering machine. I left a message outlining briefly what had happened. Where we were.

  I called Charlie.

  “Yes.”

  “Hey, Hap. You gettin’ any cruise ship pussy?”

  “No. Actually I’m in Playa del Carmen, Mexico.”

  “Hey, getting any señorita pussy?”

  “Actually, yes.”

  “Female chihuahuas don’t count.”

  “You’re just as funny as clown shoes.”

  “Hey, I know it.”

  “Listen. I got a little problem.”

  “Oh, shit.”

  “No. Nothing like that. Not the usual.”

  “Anybody dead?”

  “Not yet.”

  I gave him the shortened version of events.

  “Damn. Is Leonard bad?”

  “Not bad, but hell, he took a knife. No little thing. It could have been a lot worse. It’s a small cut, not too deep. Which is a good thing. This isn’t exactly a medical Mecca here.”

  “You guys. You’re somethin’. You could fuck up a wet dream. What do you need?”

  “Well, mainly I wanted you to know what happened to us. And I think I’m going to need some money wired until I can get to my money on board the ship. Then I can pay you back.”

  “How much you need?”

  “Well, we’ll have to arrange for plane tickets. Stuff like that. I’ve got some money. But, since I’m not certain how long Leonard’s going to have to recoup, if we’re going to have to take a hotel or not, maybe a couple thousand. Three would be better.”

  “Shit. Ask for ten. Same thing.”

  “I know, Charlie. Maybe you could loan me some, a little from Marvin—”

  “—Marvin’s in a fuckin’ wheelchair. What’s he gonna do? Run a little soapbox derby for extra bucks?”

  “You know my deal. I’m actually good for it for once. And besides, even when I’m not good for it, I pay it back, don’t I?”

  Charlie sighed. “I can ask.”

  “Brett might loan you a little for me. Between the three of you, you might could scrape it up. Shit, man. A thousand would probably do it, we had to. Oh, and John, of course. He’s probably got the whole thing.”

  “Why didn’t you call him?”

  “I did. He wasn’t home.”

  “So I was second choice?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Look. I’ll see what I can do. Give me John’s phone number.”

  I gave it to him.

  “You know Brett’s?”

  “I do.”

  “I wouldn’t count on much there. I’m just being wistful. John’s probably the best bet.”

  “All right. Who else?”

  “I think that’s about all the people who like me. And some of them are a mixed bag. There’s a lawyer friend named Veil, but I have no idea where he is these days. And besides, I’m not sure he and Leonard truly like one another.”

  “I know Veil,” Charlie said.

  “You do?” I said.

  “Everyone knows Veil. You got a number I can call you?”

  “No. The lady we’re staying with doesn’t have a phone.”

  “She the one you’re doing the hole punch with?”

  “That’s an indelicate way
of putting it. But yes. We’ll only be there today, though. Tomorrow, we have to head out.”

  “Didn’t turn out so good, huh? Bad in the sack?”

  “She was fine.”

  “Hell, I meant you.”

  “I was quite good, actually. She told me so.”

  “Now there’s something you can depend on.”

  “Charlie, I don’t know where to wire the money. I guess what I’ll do is call you back tomorrow, see if you could raise it, then I’ll let you know where to send it. I get the money I can book a plane flight.”

  “Haven’t you got a credit card?”

  “I do. But it’s one of those that has a low credit limit.”

  “A kiddie card.”

  “Pretty much. Something like three hundred dollars. I might even have enough with that and my cash and Leonard’s to put together two plane flights, but if we need to eat, anything goes wrong, well, we’d be screwed. Besides, I need to slip these people a little something. They didn’t ask, but the old man literally saved our lives. He patched Leonard up good and just in time. Without him and the antibiotics his daughter gave us, Leonard might be deceased.”

  “All right, Hap. Give me a call tomorrow.”

  “Done deal,” I said.

  I went back to the café and joined Beatrice for coffee. The coffee was rich and black and almost took my breath away. Same as Beatrice’s eyes.

  “When does your father come in?”

  “Usually midday. And then he goes back. He used to stay on the boat all day. But now he fishes very early, comes back, goes out again late. He does not go too far. He does not have to. He seems to know where the fish are. This is one of the places he sells the fish to, this café. Perhaps the fish we ate is one he caught.”

  “Doesn’t it bother you to eat a fish you know personally?”

  “Not at all.”

  “That seems inconsiderate.”

  “Fuck the fish,” she said.

  She saw me glancing at her little finger, the one with the tip missing.

  “You wonder what happened?”

  “Yeah. I guess so.”

  “Fishing line. A shark was caught. He jerked, the line tangled. It took off the tip of my finger.”

  “I didn’t mean to stare.”

  “It is all right.”

  We wandered around Playa del Carmen, looking at the tourist shops. Actually, after one shop I was pretty much worn out. The rest were the same ol’ same ol’, but I put up with it because Beatrice seemed to think she was showing me a good time.

  She suggested a ferry over to Cozumel, but I wanted to be available when her father showed and I didn’t want to give those cops the chance to see me again. I told her so.

  “Of course,” she said. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  All I could think about was Leonard back at their home, wounded, with nothing but bread and cheese to eat. I ought to get back there, and maybe it would be best to get him closer to town right away, one of the hotels. I might even be able to find a doctor, provided Charlie could rouse enough money.

  I said, “Since you need us out tomorrow, we could walk around and see if I can find a hotel for me and Leonard. We actually had a room rented, but we didn’t show last night. We might can get a room there again.”

  She didn’t hesitate. “Very well.”

  We ended up at a different, cheaper, but nicer hotel. It was white stucco with a large palm near the front and a sign that translated something like the House of Siesta. Out front was a medium-sized yellow dog that looked croaked. It lay in the hot sun like a flapjack on a griddle. When we stepped over the dog, it wagged its tail, just to let us know it didn’t need burying.

  Inside, Beatrice spoke Spanish to the man behind the desk. He had rooms.

  “Shall I set you up?” she said.

  I had been watching a couple of very large cockroaches practice sumo style shoving in the corner of the room. Kind of made me feel homesick, actually.

  “Yes. Make it two nights. I want to give Leonard a little time to rest, time for the money to get here.”

  She talked to the desk clerk. I gave him my charge card. Signed some papers. When he gave me back my card, Beatrice said, “Tonight, you two stay with us. I arranged for you a night after that. That is enough, is it not?”

  I was surprised after what she had told me about wanting Leonard and me out, but I said, “Should be. If not, I can extend it. It doesn’t look as if people are knocking the doors off this place to get in.”

  “It’s nicer than our home,” Beatrice said.

  I felt bad, but didn’t know what to say, so let it go.

  As we left the hotel, I said, “Why are you letting us stay tonight? I had the feeling you needed us out.”

  “You are why. I thought maybe we do tonight what we did last night. As for why I want you out, well, I have personal reasons. They are not your fault.”

  “I can live with that,” I said.

  We wandered around for a while, but her father didn’t show at the dock. We finally went back to the café and bought some coffee and sat at a table and talked.

  “Have you ever wanted something so bad, and you had it in your hand, and you let it slip away,” Beatrice said. “Just one decision, and everything changed.”

  “Beatrice, it’s the story of my life.”

  “I had my chance in the States. But I came back here to be a Mexican woman in the tradition of my mother. Why? I know better. Why did I do that?”

  “Perhaps you were worried about your father?”

  “I like to think so. I told you that last night. But it is more. It is like I am imprinted, and I keep doing the same thing. I cannot go backward now, not easily. I have squandered so much, so much time. I would like the big score, you know?”

  “I know. I’ve tried that myself. It can happen, the big score. Win the lottery. Gamble and hit the jackpot. But most likely you don’t win the lottery, you don’t hit the jackpot. Slow and steady wins the race.”

  “I am nearly thirty-five, and I have not begun my race. I ran it for a while, but in the wrong direction. Correct that. I ran in the right direction, but like an idiot I turned and came back the way I had run. Now I am at the starting line again. And I am tired, Hap.”

  “I’m not trying to get into your life. I don’t know your life that well, Beatrice. But why not go back to the States? You’ve got the education. There are opportunities there. You said your father doesn’t expect you to be here. He’d understand. He’d want the best for you.”

  “Too hard,” she said. “I would have to get more education to actually get a good job in archaeology. That takes money. I do not have money.”

  “Work and earn money. Then take the courses you need.”

  “Work at what?”

  “You have enough education to get a job. At a small museum maybe.”

  “It takes too long. I need the money right now, so I can take the classes. So I can have freedom. I am sick of having nothing, Hap. Physically sick.”

  “Maybe we want too damn much,” I said.

  “That could be,” Beatrice said. “But you know what? I want it just the same.”

  14

  LATE THAT AFTERNOON the old man’s boat came in. We were at the dock waiting. When the boat arrived and was tied at the dock, the kid, José, jumped off, Spanish tumbling out his mouth so fast you could almost see the words.

  “It is Father,” Beatrice said. “He has been hurt.”

  We both rushed to the boat, climbed on board.

  Ferdinand was lying on the bed in the boat cabin. His leg was bound up in white cloth and there was a lot of blood.

  He and Beatrice spoke to one another in Spanish. When they finished, she sat beside him on the bed. I leaned against the door frame. The old man smiled at me.

  “Señor. How are you today?”

  “I’m good. But you’re not. What happened?”

  “Stupid accident. I do this all my life, and now I do this stupid thing. I hooked a s
mall shark. I brought it in, and in the process of hitting it in the head, it came off the hook and wiggled on the deck and bit my lower leg. It is not bad. It was a very little shark.”

  “He cannot walk,” Beatrice said. “I consider that bad.”

  “No, señor. It is not bad.”

  “Bad enough. I hope you doctored it as well as you doctored my friend.”

  “I stitched it up myself.”

  Beatrice leaned over and looked at the bloody bandage. She started removing it.

  “It is fine,” said the old man.

  Beatrice let out her breath. “It is not fine. My heavens, Father. It is terrible. You need to see a doctor.”

  Ferdinand spoke to her in Spanish.

  She looked at me. “He says he cannot afford a doctor.”

  “Do you know where one is?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then let’s get him there.”

  José had come back onto the boat. He looked in at the old man, his eyes wide. The old man spoke to him. The boy immediately began to unload their catch.

  “José and his brothers will help sell it in the marketplace. Father will give them nearly half of it. They do not deserve half of it. Only the boy went out.”

  “He works hard,” said Ferdinand. “His family is poor.”

  Beatrice barked a laugh. It wasn’t a happy laugh.

  “Father, you are something. Come, let us get you up from there.”

  The doctor wasn’t home. I sat on the doctor’s porch with Ferdinand while Beatrice went to find him. It was nearly dark when she finally came back, an old man plodding along beside her.

  He looked like something out of a Humphrey Bogart movie. He wore a white linen suit that looked as if he had slept in it. Scuffed black shoes run-down on the sides and a shirt that had been last washed during the Mexican Revolution, and then only because he had been caught out in the rain. He had salt-and-pepper hair and the front of it hung down on his forehead as if it were too ill to consider being combed.

  I heard him call Ferdinand by name, then the rest of it was in Spanish, which left me out. They apparently knew each other well.

  I helped the old man up. He was stiffer than before. As the doctor came to help me, I could smell liquor on his breath.