Cruise to Mayhem

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Cruise to Mayhem Page 6

by David P. Remy


  Next, Led demanded a rematch with the surf rider. He and Breath sauntered back to the water sports’ area. This go ‘round, the young buck was able to show off his more polished skills with the board. He’d been practicing, a lot. No wipe out this time. The conquering hero finished the session and proudly bounced over and sat with Breath in the spectator stand.

  They held hands while watching a few more surf riding victors and victims. She squeezed his hand. He notched in a little tighter. She nudged his shoulder with hers. He wrapped has arm around her waist. She touched her knee against his knee. Led pulled the towel on top of his swim suit.

  Led whispered, “Ah?…Breath.”

  Breath mumbled, “Oh!…right.”

  This scene begged to be continued with an evening date in a more private setting.

  ****

  Andre, the head waiter, returned to the evening dinner table, perfectly timed, just as everyone had finished their desserts. He went through the ritual of announcing upcoming events for the evening. First on the list was the after dinner theatrical production. Tonight, it would be a headliner show featuring the legendary Marty Allen along with his beautiful wife, Karon Kate Blackwell. Two proven top favorites of cruisers of several cruise lines on which they performed…Marty, with his timeless comedy; Karon, with her impeccable musical vocals and piano solos. Later, dancing under the stars by the pool; a midnight buffet, etc., etc., etc..

  Led didn’t listen very closely. He had one production firmly planned. As the song goes, “I didn’t know what I was thinking, but I sure knew what I was feeling”. Breath smiled her bewitching smile as she finished her hot herbal tea and placed her cup into its saucer…and her hand on his. That confirmed Led’s hopes for the evening. It would be the early show in the theater. A second feature would come later for these two in a secluded cabin setting.

  “That was a great meal,” Sam remarked to Breath as Led pushed his wheelchair behind him. “I never thought I’d eat meals like this, again.”

  “Why’s that, Sam?” Led had leaned over to ask into Sam’s ear.

  “Someday, I may tell you the long story of my youth, young man. It was a long time ago and in a far off land.”

  “Sounds like the beginning track for an adventure movie,” Breath chortled.

  “Much more than simple adventure. If it was a movie, it’d be considered a tragedy, I’m afraid.” Sam’s demeanor saddened.

  They reached Sam’s room and Breath used the door card key. Led maneuvered Sam seated in his wheelchair through the just wide enough opening into the cabin. He held his breath, so to speak, as he waited for a possible kiss off. Breath stepped to the door to show Led out of Sam’s room…the door adjoining her room with Sam’s.

  “Why don’t you wait for me in my cabin, Led, and I’ll get Sam ready for bed.” Breath opened the door adjoining the rooms and Led went inside Breath’s cabin.

  He closed the door, pumped his closed fist into the air and screamed in a stage whisper, “YES!”

  A few minutes later, the door opened and Breath stepped into her cabin. Led was on the couch watching one of the ship’s TV stations previewing the upcoming port tour opportunities…once in a lifetime experiences…with a price to match.

  “Gosh, some of these trips look really exciting. Sledding down a steep city street, climbing to the peak of a mountain overlooking the harbor. I’ll ask Lucky if he wants to do any of these. Of course, Breath, you definitely would be included if you could get the time off.”

  “It depends on how Sam is doing each day. So far, it’s been fairly routine and he doesn’t make huge demands. He’s more considerate than I’d be if I had to endure his set of circumstances.”

  Led reached his hand out to Breath. “There’s just room enough here for the two of us,” he said, as he patted the sofa cushion next to him.

  Laughing, Breath responded, “Moving kind of fast, aren’t we, big boy?”

  Scanning the room like a video camera, “not much room to move in, so you can’t fault me for that.”

  Breath sat mid couch. “We’ll need to be quiet, Led. I just gave Sam his sleepers, but it takes a few minutes for them to take hold. Then he sleeps very deeply and it’s very hard to wake him up.”

  “No worry. What I have in mind, I can do very quietly.” He touched the tip of her nose.

  Led pulled his legs up and stretched them out along the back of the couch behind her. Breath nestled into his embrace. They tickled their fingers together, playfully. He bent his left hand over her head and stroked her hair. Simultaneously, Led lightly brush his right hand upwards on her left arm. When he reached her shoulder, he gently pulled her face around so that they were looking into each others’ eyes. Both sets of lips matched perfectly…lips designed by nature for that kiss which is the beginning of every beautiful friendship.

  Breath extended her right arm and caressed Led’s cheek. She traced her index finger over his lips. She felt him nibble on her finger as he drew her tight against his chest by drawing his legs up.

  She moaned…

  ****

  as he slowly let his left hand drop from her arm to massage her thigh. Long low guttural sounds signaled that both had reached the nadir of their lusty embrace. Released from passion, their heads sunk deeply into their pillows.

  “I needed that,” Jan rasped. It’s been a tough few days getting underway for this transatlantic run. Hans breathed out a heavy sigh of confirmation.

  The mantle clock in his living room tick-tocked loudly in the silence. “How do you always get me into this position?” Hans mumbled.

  Propping up her head with her right hand and arm, Jan Becker peered at Hans through her usual pride of victory mask. “All my fault, hey? Like you don’t enjoy our secret trysts?”

  “Ha, I’m not sure how secret they are. You know all the bulkheads have eyes and ears. If you sneeze on the third deck, someone on the fifth deck says, ‘bless you’.”

  “So, since when doesn’t the Staff Captain and the Chief Engineer need to get together to discuss important business?” She brushed back her hair and dropped her head back on the pillow.

  “I don’t want any more of your important business to discuss, if you know what I’m getting at.” Hans replied.

  “There won’t be. Getting that Van Gogh print through your customs buddies without notice was all I’ll ask you to do.” She pinched his cheek. “But, I may very well require you to do more of this again.”

  “I still don’t know what is so damn important about that print,” Hans badgered.

  “I told you a hundred times, Hans. It’s an old family treasure. It’s only an old print; it’s worth a lot to me, personally. Sentimental value, you know. You can’t put a figure on sentiment, now, can you, darling.”

  “But, why did you insist that I had to smuggle it through for you?”

  “As I said, dearest, I just didn’t want to go through the custom’s interrogation. They may have wanted to examine it for originality and cut it out of the frame. The fools would have ruined it. You know they are about as careful as a fishmonger beheading a fish.”

  After a few seconds of silence in the darkened bedroom, “Anderson stopped by here the other night. I was really concerned he’d ask about the new picture, but he didn’t even notice it.”

  “I told you not to worry. Now, I need to get back to the bridge and check up with the First Officer about our course.”

  Staff Captain Jan Becker dressed and exited Hans’ cabin, first listening at the door for the sound of any one stirring in the hallway.

  Chief Engineer Hans Stydd leaned his back against the closed door and stared at the Van Gogh illuminated by the museum lamp. It cast its eerie shadow across his cabin which was rocking back and forth with the rhythm of the ocean. He felt humiliated. Depressed. His loneliness and lust had gotten him into this mess. Now, he was paying dearly for his sins.

  He knew Jan was lying, but why?

  CHAPTER TEN

  Buying art aboard during a
vacation cruise has become a popular past time. The auction method is used which offers most travelers a first time experience with the preferred method of purchase by the rich and anonymous. Christie’s…Sotheby’s, etc. We’ve all heard about the world famous auction houses.

  Breath was a bit burned out of watching her he-man ride the waves yet again, so she prevailed upon Led to attend her to the afternoon art auction accompanied with free champagne. Nothing like a bubbly lubricant to grease the elbows and encourage a hesitant bidder to raise his or her numbered bid card a bit more quickly and help those dollars slip out of their wallet and into the auctioneer’s.

  Breath and Led each took a glass of the crystal clear relaxer from the waiter and perused the available art treasures. Mostly limited editions of one category or another, along with a respectable number of originals by an artist, actually on-board. A first for this particular ship to feature a live artist doing his work. Part seminar, lots salesmanship.

  “Well, looky here, if it ain’t my favorite couple.” Charlie now used his endearing phrase with a more hetero emphasis of acceptance.

  “Now, stop that Charlie. You can be too much sometimes.” Joyce chuckled, helped along by her third glass of priceless champagne. Charlie was one up on Joyce and feeling no pain, either. Charlie judged that he could drink more due to his weight.

  “See anything you can’t live without, guys?” Joyce inquired.

  “There are so many that tempt me. I’d love to have most of them. Of course, I don’t have any place to call home at the moment.” Breath meandered between the tripod stands displaying the art.

  “Never heard of any of these guys.” Led remarked. “I like that one with the racing cars in it. Reminds me of NASCAR.”

  “You’ve got my taste to a tee,” Charlie chimed in. “Give me a good horse race picture or a yacht sailing the open water. The ladies can have all those flowery thingys. Look at this so called modern art. My grandkids could do better than these jokers.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen. We’ll need to bring the preview hour to a close and invite you to select a seat for the auction. Please, fill your glasses with our finest bubbly.” Kris was hosting from the front of the night club stage, mike firmly in toe as he wandered back and forth with a back drop of smaller, lower price art pieces he would offer as a primer at the start to heat up the bidding.

  “Today we are featuring the art taken from some of the best French Impressionists: Monet, Manet, Chagall, and Renoir, with Van Gogh as frosting on the pallet. You understand, the introduction of photography revolutionized the painting world and brought the school of impressionists into our world. Once photography could reproduce nature and objects in such a realistic fashion, artists were no longer satisfied to mimic a real object or scene. They painted it, allowing their paints and brushes to add in the artists’ impressions. This developed into many modern schools of art including abstract art. You all know abstract art. It’s the painting you see and say, ‘my grandchild could do better than those jokers’.”

  Breath was taking it all in; Led was focused on the artistic form next to him; Joyce was smiling a champagne original smile; Charlie had already fallen asleep.

  Lucky slipped into the chair next to Led. “Kind of high class for you, ain’t it Led?”

  “Don’t interrupt my classical education. I was taking notes,” Led retorted.

  “Notes on the human anatomy, I’d wager.”

  “Yeah, I’m doing a major study of the female form as my education in sculpture at the moment. Now, quiet.” Led took a final sip of his champagne.

  “Need to talk with you afterward. OK?”

  “Sure thing.” Led sensed the note of urgency in Lucky’s voice.

  An hour had slipped by and the gavel was brought down on the final item for auction. “Going once; going twice; sold to bidder number 263 for $875.00. Congratulations! Please step up to the table and my assistant, Maggie, will take care of the transaction details for you.”

  All the shouting and gaveling had the effect of waking up Charlie. He nervously surveyed the area in an effort to remember where he was. As he focused on Joyce sitting next to him, he grumbled, ”C’mon, Cuddles, let’s get out of here. I’m starving.”

  ****

  “So, what’s up?” Led and Lucky found a set of chairs in a quiet corner of the lounge. Breath had excused herself to go and check up on Sam in his cabin.

  “A kind of situation has developed, pal of mine. A rather sticky one, for me. I’m not able to say too much about it. In fact, really nothing at all.” Lucky tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair.

  “I’d say that puts me in the know at the zero level with zero hope of learning sum total of zero.” Led, had his math correct but, to say the least, was a bit confused about the purpose of this conversation.

  “I can sum it up in one word, but I’m not sure that will help you to understand.”

  Led was growing a bit impatient. As usual. “OK, what is the word?”

  “Confession.” Lucky whispered ruefully.

  “Like, what you do when people tell you their sins? In secret and all that?”

  “You got it, my friend.” Lucky was near perspiring even though the room was well air conditioned. “All I can say is that I was told some rather serious stuff which I can’t act on outside the confessional.”

  “So, you telling me that much, or little, in this case…your point is?”

  “I do have some information upon which I can act. Information which I stumbled onto in a completely different situation, outside the confessional. So, it’s information which I can share. But, Led, you have to understand that I need to divulge the one without jeopardizing the secrecy of the confession. Does that make sense?”

  “About as much as you usually do old man.” Led teased. “I may not understand everything about your profession, but I get the gist of what you’re dealing with. So, how can I help?”

  “Well, for starters, I’d like you and Breath to befriend the auctioneer, Kris, and his assistant, Maggie. Maybe get them to go to lunch with you guys or just hang out in the dance club some night soon.”

  “OK, why?” Led always knew how to ask the hard questions.

  “The other night I overheard Kris and Maggie discussing a painting. As best as I could figure, Kris had helped get a work of art, a Van Gogh, on board. He hung it on the wall in one of the officers’ cabins. I need you to help me get that picture.”

  “Like, steal it?” Now Led was showing signs of excitement mixed with a bit of angst.

  “No, not to steal it, my foolish man. Borrow it. Just so I can have it for a short time. I need to examine it. What do you think? Can you come up with a plan to get Kris to help you get the picture?”

  “I’m not sure. I can give it a go. Breath has a good head on her. Between the two of us, we should be able to put a plan together. I’ll get back with you after I talk with her about it.”

  ****

  Breath had her hands full with Sam. He had eaten something that got into a battle royal with his stomach. Sam was definitely losing this skirmish. She helped him get to the bathroom in time to settle the argument from the stomach’s point of view. The bout left Sam physically exhausted. She could see the frailty in the haggard look on his face.

  She helped him into his bed. Sam would need fresh clothes for the morning, so she began rummaging through his closet. Not finding what she needed there, she went to her cabin. They had stuffed some of Sam’s luggage with clothing in her closet. When she began her search, a suitcase fell away from the wall and she noticed the black briefcase. Contemplating it, her need to review the contents got the better of her and she took the case out, set it on the coffee table and opened it. There, inside, were newspaper clippings and other official looking papers.

  She pulled some of them out, spread them out on the coffee table and began reading the yellow, musty papers. They were reporting a story about a shipyard scandal during the war. Suddenly, she saw a front page picture of a ver
y young, but undeniable, Sam. Her Sam!

  She leafed through more of the papers and noticed some dated only a few months ago. The documents had “CLAUSDERHAM PRISON” on their letterhead. A couple of the documents were filled with a lot of legalese, but one was clearly entitled: PARDON FOR ROLF SAMUEL STUTTGAR. It began, “due to the advance age and medical condition of said prisoner, the state hereby grants a pardon of clemency….”

  A shudder went up her spine. Her hands began to shake and she almost dropped the papers. Catching a hold of herself, she quickly stuffed the papers back into the briefcase and returned it to the original hiding place behind the suitcase.

  The phone in her cabin rang several times before she was able to get everything back in place and pick it up. “Hello”. She read the caller ID: Harris, Eugene.

  “Hey, Breath. It’s me, Led. How’s the coolest gal on the ship?”

  “If you could see what I’m taking care of at the moment, you wouldn’t think I was so cool.”

  “Oops, sorry. Problems with Sam?”

  “Yes, the poor dear had a stomach upset. I’m getting him settled down now. I gave him a sedative to help him sleep. I’ll call Hans. I hope he might be able to come down and visit with him for a while. Sam loves it when Hans is around. That’s better than any medicine for him.”

  “So, you’re still able to meet up with me and go for drinks and dancing with Kris and Maggie?”

  “I think so. When I met Maggie today in the beauty salon, she was thrilled to have a foursome to do something with. She said that she and Kris don’t have many friends among the crew and a night at the club would do them a world of good. Just pray that Hans will be able to cover for some of the evening.”

  Breath and Maggie had hit it off immediately following the auction. They decided to get their hair done for the formal night coming up. Of course, the motive for befriending Maggie was at the urging of Led, following his convoluted explanation of why they needed to chum it up with Kris and Maggie. Breath didn’t totally understand the situation, but Led seemed so convinced that it was important, so she decided to go along with it. She still wasn’t comfortable about “investigating the Van Gogh”, as Led called the operation. The fact that Led getting involved now made the affair a whole lot more complicated for Breath.

 

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