Insane City

by Dave Barry

  “This is really about the monkey, isn’t it?” said Castronovo. “You want to kill the monkey.”

  Brewer looked back toward the Barco Loco. “Just get me close,” he said.

  “You guys ready down there?” called Bobby.

  “Almost,” shouted Duane.

  “Hurry up,” said Bobby. To his left, the Bay Wanderer was once again pulling even. Brewer, on the walkway, raised his gun, this time very clearly aiming at Bobby. And this time, instead of responding with the finger, Bobby raised both hands in a surrender gesture. Brewer signaled Cut the engine. Bobby reached down and backed the throttles down to idle. The Barco Loco slowed, then stopped, wallowing in the swells. The Bay Wanderer eased closer, the two ships’ hulls nearly touching. Brewer, keeping his gun aimed at Bobby, looked down onto the Barco Loco’s main deck but saw nobody.

  “Where are they?” Brewer called to Bobby.

  “Below,” said Bobby.

  “I’m getting on your boat,” said Brewer.

  “What do you want?”

  “I just told you, asshole. I’m getting on your boat.”

  Bobby shrugged. “Over there,” he said, pointing forward to the gangplank opening in the Barco Loco’s main-deck railing.

  Keeping an eye, and his gun, on Bobby, Brewer sidestepped along the walkway toward the opening. Reaching it, he heaved a leg over the Bay Wanderer’s railing, preparing to board the pirate ship.

  “Now,” said Bobby.

  BOOM! went the propane cannon four feet from where Brewer was climbing over the rail.

  Ordinarily the cannon barrel was empty, shooting only hot air. This time it contained roughly a pound of frozen chicken nuggets, which Seth had brought up from the refrigerator in the Barco Loco galley and which Duane had loaded into the cannon from the back. Propelled by the exploding propane, the frozen nuggets left the cannon barrel at a velocity of around three hundred feet per second. They struck Brewer in the stomach, chest and groin, knocking him back off the rail and onto the walkway of the Bay Wanderer. His gun flew out of his hand, bounced and clattered on the deck, then went overboard.

  Before it splashed into the ocean, Bobby shoved the Barco Loco throttles full forward. He waved jauntily to the passengers on the Bay Wanderer, who waved back and applauded the pirate ship’s captain, convinced now that they were watching a performance.

  As the Barco Loco pulled away, Castronovo burst out from the bridge door and ran to Brewer, who lay on his back, moaning.

  “You OK?” said Castronovo.

  “No!” said Brewer. “They shot me!”

  “Lemme look,” said Castronovo, kneeling and lifting Brewer’s polo shirt. Brewer’s belly was covered with dozens of red welts interspersed with a few bleeding cuts inflicted by nugget shrapnel.

  “You’ll live,” said Castronovo.

  “I’m gonna kill those assholes,” said Brewer.

  “No you’re not,” said Castronovo. “We’re going to go back to shore and try to get out of this mess. And we’re going to pray that Mike doesn’t fire us.”

  He stood up and looked at the receding bulk of the Barco Loco motoring on toward the Ritz, now visible in the distance. Duane and Seth had rejoined Bobby on the bridge. Seth looked back, saw Castronovo watching, smiled broadly and waved.

  Castronovo, a professional, resisted the urge to shoot him.

  71

  It was a measure of the clout that Mike Clark possessed at the federal level that less than fifteen minutes after he made a phone call, four armed agents from Immigration and Customs Enforcement arrived at the Ritz. They drove a black ICE sedan and white van, both of which they left out front, instructing the hotel staff that these vehicles were not to be moved.

  Their arrival was noted with interest by a valet named Philippe Jeunet. As soon as the agents entered the hotel, Philippe had his cell phone out, dialing his fellow Haitian and Ritz employee, groundskeeper Carl Juste.

  72

  “He wasn’t kidding,” said Marty. “It’s a pirate ship.”

  The Groom Posse stood on the beach in front of the Ritz, watching, along with a few dozen beachgoers, as the Barco Loco drifted to a stop and dropped anchor about seventy-five yards offshore. Figures were moving around on the deck. The Groom Posse recognized Seth, then Duane, with Blossom on his shoulders.

  “How’d he end up with the snake guy?” said Kevin.

  “How’d he end up on a pirate ship?” responded Marty. “With an orangutan?”

  “Good point,” said Kevin.

  “How’re they gonna get to the beach?” said Big Steve.

  “Dinghy, looks like,” said Marty. The shipboard figures were lowering a pontoon boat from davits mounted on the stern of the Barco Loco.

  Marty felt a tap on his shoulder, turned and saw Carl, in his groundskeeper’s uniform.

  “You’re with the wedding, right?” he said. “I saw you yesterday. You’re Seth’s friend?”

  “I’m his best man,” said Marty. “Why?”

  “Because I need to find him. I tried to call his room but there is no answer. This is very important.”

  “What is it?”

  Carl hesitated.

  “If it’s about the Haitians he was hiding in his room,” said Marty, “we know about that.”

  “All right,” said Carl. “There are some ICE agents here at the hotel.”

  “ICE?”

  “Immigration. Somebody must have reported Laurette.”

  “Jesus,” said Marty.

  “So I am trying to tell Seth this, because they must not—”

  “They’re not in his room,” said Marty.

  “Where are they?”

  Marty pointed. “On the pirate ship.”

  “On the ship? Why?”

  “Long story. Some guys took them out of the hotel. Seth went after them and now he’s bringing them back to the hotel.” As he spoke, the figures on the pirate ship got the pontoon boat into the water.

  “But they cannot come here,” said Carl. “Not now.”

  Marty looked at Kevin and Big Steve. “Does Seth have his phone?”

  “I don’t think so,” said Kevin. “Wait, that girl he’s with does. I got her number.” He dug into his pocket, pulled out the paper he’d written Cyndi’s number on, handed it to Marty.

  “Steve, give me your phone,” said Marty. He grabbed it and dialed.

  Cyndi was on the main deck of the Barco Loco, holding Laurette’s baby. Laurette had her arm around Stephane, the two of them looking toward the beach, which is where they clearly would have preferred to be. Meghan was sitting cross-legged on the floor, gently stroking Trevor’s fur. Trevor was lying quite still, as he had been since the wild boat ride had started.

  Cyndi’s phone rang. She shifted the baby and pulled the phone from her purse. “Hello? Who?” She waved the phone at Seth, who was standing by the rail, helping Bobby and Duane with the pontoon boat. “Seth! It’s Marty!”

  Seth trotted over, grabbed the phone. “Hello?” He looked at the beach, waved. “I see you. Listen, I’m bring— Oh. Oh no. Shit— Well, we can’t stay out here all day— OK, OK, stay there. I’m gonna come in and try to straighten this out— No, I understand, they’ll stay out here. Is Carl there with you? Put him on, OK? . . . Hey Carl— Right, I understand. Listen, can you explain this to Laurette? She has to be wondering what the hell is going on. Tell her that as soon as we can, we’ll get her back on land, OK? I don’t think she likes the boat— Right. OK, here she is.”

  Seth handed the phone to Laurette, who began an animated conversation with Carl.

  Duane and Bobby drifted over. “What’s going on?” said Duane.

  “We have a problem,” said Seth. “There’s federal immigration guys in the hotel. Carl thinks they’re looking for Laurette.”

  “How did that happen?” said Cyndi.

  “Somebody must’ve reported them.”

  Meghan started to say something, stopped.

  “So we have a problem,” continued Se
th. “We can’t take Laurette and the kids in there right now.”

  “We can’t sit out here forever,” said Meghan.

  “I know,” said Seth. “I’m hoping the immigration guys don’t find anything and leave. I’m going to take the dinghy in, see what I can find out. Also I need to talk to Tina, explain what’s going on.”

  Meghan again almost said something but didn’t.

  Laurette finished her conversation and handed the phone back to Seth.

  “Carl?” he said. “Right. Right. Of course. OK, tell Marty I’m heading in now. Bye.” He handed the phone to Cyndi, then knelt in front of Laurette. He took her hand, looked into her eyes.

  “I know you don’t understand what I’m saying,” he said. “And I know you’re scared and you want to get off the boat. I’m really, really sorry about what you’ve been through today. But I promise you it will work out. We won’t let them take you. OK?”

  Laurette squeezed his hand and said, “Mêci.”

  “Mêci,” said Seth. He stood, turned to Bobby and Duane. “OK, I’m going in. I’ll be back. Will you guys be OK out here?”

  “We’ll be fine,” said Bobby.

  “Plenty of tequila,” said Duane.

  73

  “Here he comes,” said Big Steve.

  The pontoon boat was pulling away from the Barco Loco, Seth holding the outboard tiller. In a few minutes, he was riding a wave onto the sand and jumping out into the surf, the Groom Posse helping him drag the boat up the beach, out of reach of the waves. Seth started walking briskly toward the hotel, Kevin and Marty flanking him, Big Steve a step behind.

  “What’s the plan?” said Marty.

  “Right now,” said Seth, “I need to see Tina.”

  “She’s seriously pissed,” said Kevin.

  “I know,” said Seth. “I don’t blame her.” He looked at his watch. “But I still think this can all work out.”

  “What about the Haitian woman?” said Marty.

  “I’m hoping you guys can help with that. Keep an eye out for the immigration agents, and as soon as they leave, Laurette and the kids can come in.”

  “And then what?” said Marty.

  Seth glanced at him. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, they’re still here illegally. They can still be picked up and sent back to Haiti.”

  “I’m hoping they can stay here until tomorrow, and her sister will show up and take her somewhere safe.”

  “That’s it? That’s your plan? Hoping?”

  “You have a better one?”

  “Not at the moment. But maybe I can devise a legal strategy.”

  Seth stopped, faced Marty. “No offense, Marty, but this situation is already fucked up enough.”

  “So you’re saying you have no faith in my legal abilities.”

  “None whatsoever.”

  “Fair enough.”

  They were walking again, reaching the hotel.

  “I think that’s them,” said Kevin, pointing.

  Through the bank of windows along the rear wall of the Ritz they could see the four uniformed immigration agents gathered in the lobby. They were talking to a fifth figure.

  “Is that a flamingo?” said Seth.

  “That’s Mike Clark,” said Marty.

  Seth stared at the flamingo. “You’re shitting me.”

  “Don’t worry. He gets to take it off for the wedding.”

  “What?” said Seth.

  “They’re moving,” said Kevin.

  Seth and Marty looked through the window. The agents were breaking up their gathering, heading in different directions.

  “OK,” said Seth, “you guys keep an eye on them. I’m going to go see Tina.” He glanced at his watch again. “We can still make this all work.” He opened the hotel door and was gone.

  “Sure we can,” said Marty.

  74

  “Uh-oh,” said Bobby.

  “What?” said Duane.

  “Chopper,” said Bobby, pointing north.

  It was hugging the shoreline. The black-and-white fuselage said POLICE and, below that, MIAMI-DADE.

  “Maybe he’s not looking for us,” said Duane.

  “That’d be good.”

  As the chopper neared the Ritz-Carlton, it banked left and curved out over the water. It stopped directly over the Barco Loco, hovering.

  “I guess he’s looking for us,” said Duane.

  75

  Seth rang the door to Tina’s suite, waited.

  The door opened: It was Marcia Clark. She was dressed for the wedding. Her hair appeared to be even more perfect than usual.

  “Hey, Marcia,” said Seth.

  Marcia scanned Seth with icy blue eyes, starting with his unbrushed hair, moving down to his unshaven face, then his sweat-stained shirt, then his seawater-soaked pants, then his bare feet. Her gaze traveled back up to his face, her expression that of a woman who has discovered a pubic hair in her yogurt.

  “I know I’m kind of a mess,” he said. “But it’s been—”

  “Tina,” Marcia called over her shoulder. “He’s here.” Marcia exited the suite, taking care not to get close to Seth, and walked away down the hall.

  Seth stepped inside, closed the door. “Tina?” he said.

  No answer.

  “Tina?” He walked through the foyer, saw her standing at the far end of the suite by the balcony door, facing away from him. She was wearing her $137,000 wedding dress made of eco-sustainable fibers.

  “Teen?” he said.

  She turned around, and he inhaled sharply. Tina was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and right now she looked more beautiful than he had ever seen her. She also looked, he thought, remarkably calm.

  “Teen,” he said, stepping forward, opening his arms.

  She raised her manicured hands, palms out.

  “Right,” he said, stopping.

  “Did you know,” she said, “that you’re on the TV news?”

  “Tina, I am really, really sorry.”

  “Sorry that you’re on the news?”

  “Well, yeah, that, and everything else.”

  “What else?”

  “That I got into this whole mess.”

  “On our wedding day.”

  “Yes.”

  “On our wedding day, Seth.” Tina’s calm was beginning to leave her.

  “I know, I know. I totally fucked up.”

  “How could you do this? How?”

  “Teen, listen, please. Part of it was getting wasted on South Beach. That was just stupid. I have no excuse for that, losing the ring—”

  “You lost the ring?”

  “No, no, I got it back. I have it right here.” Seth patted his pocket. “But please listen, Teen. The other part, the part about Laurette, that’s different.”

  “Yesterday, after the rehearsal, you promised me—you promised me—that you would make them leave.”

  “I know. And I tried to. But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t kick them out.”

  Tina sighed. “You’re a nice guy, Seth. But you let people take advantage of you.”

  “They’re not taking advantage of—”

  “Yes they are, Seth. They’re using you.”

  “Teen, they’re not using me. They don’t even speak English. They’re lost and helpless and scared to death. And then your father’s two thugs grabbed them, taking them God knows where. I couldn’t let that happen, Teen. It was just wrong.”

  Tina was silent for a few seconds. Then she said, “They were taking them to the immigration authorities.”

  “What?”

  “Castronovo and Brewer were taking the Haitians to the federal immigration authorities.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because that’s what my father told them to do.”

  Seth was staring at her. “So you knew about this.”

  “Yes.”

  “And the immigration agents in the hotel right now, you know about them?”

  “My
father called them when we found out you were bringing the Haitians back to the hotel.”

  “When we found out meaning when you found out and told your father.”

  “Yes.”

  “I see,” said Seth.

  “No, you don’t see. Here’s what you think, Seth. You think you’re being a selfless hero, I’m being a rich spoiled bitch who only cares about her wedding and doesn’t give a shit about the poor Haitians.”

  “No I don’t—”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what you think, Seth. And it’s bullshit. Let me ask you, have you ever, in your entire life, done anything—one single fucking thing—to bring about immigration reform?”

  “No.”

  “No. You’ve been busy. Well, guess what, Seth? While you’ve been tweeting about douche, I have worked for immigration reform. I’ve signed petitions, written letters, gone to rallies. I know more about immigration reform than you ever will, Seth. And I know you don’t bring about immigration reform by breaking the law and fleeing from the police with a fucking orangutan.”

  “Listen, Tina, I—”

  “No, you listen. Those people knowingly broke the law, coming here. They might have gotten away with it, but now, thanks to you and your bimbo friend and your orangutan, they’re famous. So no matter what you do or I do or my father does, they’re going to wind up in federal custody, and they’ll probably have to go back to Haiti, where they’ll be no worse off than they were. But the point is, whatever’s going to happen to them is out of your hands, and it’s out of my hands. Do you understand that?”

  Seth was quiet for a few seconds, then said, “Yes.”

  “Good. So now you have a decision to make: Do you want to keep playing hero? Or do you want to marry me? Because you can’t do both.”

  “You still want to marry me?”

  “Yes. This is an aberration, this hero thing. It’s not you, Seth. I know that. But it has to end now. I want those people—the Haitians, the bimbo, all of them—out of this hotel. Now. I want them all gone.”

  “Actually, they’re not in the hotel,” said Seth. He went to the balcony door, pointed out toward the Barco Loco. He’d been hearing the helicopter noise, and saw now that it was a police helicopter, hovering over the pirate ship.