Ms. Anna

by Bill Lockwood

  Anna was slightly peeved. “Right, Max, just don’t make fun of it.”

  Max shrugged. “Maybe I’m actually starting to believe all this stuff. I did draw the two black kings…”

  “Please, don’t start that again,” Anna implored him.

  “Hell, maybe my little saint’ll even protect me from Ms. Parker at the tuna plant.”

  Anna laughed. “You just missed her, you know. Ms. Parque de Bombas was just here looking for you.”

  “What!”

  “Sashayed across the floor here in this business suit with a really short skirt, pulled herself up on that very same bar stool you’re sitting on now, and she said she was looking for a guy named Max.”

  “She asked for me?”

  “You’re the only guy named Max I know. Said she worked at the tuna plant with our friend Señor Cofresí. Said he told her he had met you here. She must have figured you might hang out here or something. And she said she wanted to talk to you.”

  “Wow.”

  “She said you were in town on tuna business with the plant, but it’s curious she didn’t seem to know anything about the card game and the fact that you’re now owner and captain of my father’s boat.”

  “Oh?”

  “She still thought Señor Cofresí was hiring him for our trip tonight, not you, the new captain. I admit I was being a little cagey, I guess, about me being the one who’s the only pilot Señor Cofresí wants for the trip, but when I explained about the game and all, she kind of got a little flustered. I went to take care of another customer, and she hauled ass—or rather, sashayed like she came in—right out of here.”

  “That’s fascinating…interesting. Why does she want to talk to me so bad? Is Cofresí that determined to get me into a compromising position through her? Is that why he’s sending her to a bar after me?”

  Anna shrugged. “Time will tell, I suppose. After this trip, you’ve still gotta figure out what’s going on at the tuna plant.”

  “I’m hoping I’ll get some kind of insight on this trip to Key West,” Max said. “I’m hoping if we find out what Cofresí’s up to with his Cuba connections we’ll know what’s going on with the plant, as well.”

  “Well, I’m hoping for that too,” Anna agreed. “At least you’re safe from Ms. Parque de Bombas on the trip. As far as I know, Señor Cofresí and his dead brother are the only ones on the passenger list for this run.”

  “Yes, his dead brother.” Max patted his pocket. “Thank God I’ve got my little Saint Anna here. I’m gonna trust she’ll protect me from all the bad karma of moving a dead man’s bones.”

  “I suppose she will.”

  “In fact, I’m gonna set her up right with your others in the wheelhouse as soon as we get back to the boat.”

  “Oh, no,” Anna objected. “I don’t want another saint in my wheelhouse. She might completely upset the good karma I’ve created there.”

  “Really?”

  “Balance. My universe has to be in balance when I navigate with the feel of the water and the wind. I can’t have some strange saint possibly throwing it all off. No, Max, you keep little Miss Saint Anna with you.”

  “Okay.” Max held up his hands in an “I didn’t mean to offend you” gesture. “I had no idea…”

  “Good,” Anna said. “I mean thanks. I know you’re the captain and all, but I can’t compromise on my saints and gods. I just can’t. I mean, as long as things are in balance as they always are, I’m sure the trip’s going to work out just fine, from my end anyway.”

  “Right,” Max agreed. He reached up and felt the new cap on his head. “Anyway, I made two really good purchases today.”

  “Two?”

  “My hat and my saint. What more could a good captain want?”

  Anna started to say a captain and a man might certainly want something more.

  Max gave her a big smile. “Now I look like a proper captain, and I have a saint of my own, even if she’s in my pocket, to take care of me.”

  A customer called for another beer, and Anna had to move away. When she got back, the topic was forgotten, and Max decided it was late enough in the day to switch from coffee to beer.

  Chapter 9

  When he got back to the boat, Max changed into his Boston Red Sox T-shirt and cutoff jeans, and he wore his sneakers, too, just in case he had to navigate a wet deck. He hoped his new white captain’s hat would not blow off in a strong wind. And his new little saint statue was tucked securely in his side pocket.

  Anna had only let him drink one beer. “I want my captain sharp and sober,” she had said.

  I’m only captain because I drew the two black kings, Max thought. You and the rest of the crew do all the work, as if I’m not even there. Though I do hold the money, I suppose.

  Max stood with Anna on the deck just outside the door to the wheelhouse. He was about to call his Uncle Henry on the ship-to-shore phone and make a report, but he spotted Señor Cofresí’s big car approaching on the street. The driver who had dropped off the financial report that morning pulled up as close as he could to where the boat was tied up.

  Señor Cofresí got out of the car, and Ms. Parker got out the other side.

  “Oh, shit,” Anna said. “Señorita Parque de Bombas is here too.”

  “Oh, shit, indeed,” Max echoed, and he felt his pocket to make sure little Saint Anna was definitely with him now.

  Señor Cofresí was dressed as always in his white suit and straw hat. He carried what Max, as a former musician, recognized immediately as a big trombone case. Ms. Parker appeared to be dressed only in a tank top and a bikini bathing suit bottom, like Anna’s everyday attire. She wore sunglasses and carried a big straw beach bag.

  Captain Jim helped the two arrivals climb on board. Max and Anna went down to where they stood.

  There was a moment of awkward silence among them. Then Señor Cofresí turned on his charm and introduced the two women to each other.

  “Sorry I cut out on you at the plant yesterday afternoon,” Max felt compelled to say.

  Cofresí smiled. “Ah, Señor Max, that was yesterday’s business, and that was your family’s tuna plant. Tonight you are El Capitán Max and the man whose boat I have hired for my important trip.”

  Anna then spoke up and saved Max from having to offer any further explanation. “Please make yourselves comfortable downstairs in the galley while we fire up the engine and cast off,” she said. “We want to wait till dark to leave, but I also want to go out with the tide. My father and Captain Jim will join you. I laid in a couple of bottles of Don Q rum. And I see now you two and our crew will make four, a good number for a card game.”

  “Ah, splendid,” Cofresí said. He pulled a folded piece of paper from his inside coat pocket and handed it to Anna. “Here are the coordinates and time of our meeting with the boat that will bring my poor brother’s remains.”

  Anna unfolded the paper and looked at it. “That will be in the middle of the night on our second night out,” she said.

  “Si, yes.” Cofresí nodded. “I am sure you can make that distance by then.”

  Anna thought a moment. “Yes, we can meet them then.”

  “Excellent.” Cofresí smiled. “Let us be underway. We will go down and enjoy some of your good rum while you start our sad journey.”

  “Sad indeed,” Anna agreed. She folded the paper and tucked it in the side of her bikini bottom.

  Cofresí turned away. It was obvious he was familiar with the boat. He led the way. Ms. Parker smiled and nodded at Max and Anna. Then she followed Cofresí to the hatch.

  Anna and Max looked at each other. Anna smiled. Max held out his hands in a gesture that, with the questioning look on his face, said, “What the hell is going on?” Anna shrugged. Then she turned and led the way back to the wheelhouse.

  “What do you think he’s got in that big thing he’s carrying?” Anna asked as soon as they were in the wheelhouse.

  “The trombone case?” Max asked.


  “I thought that’s what it was,” Anna said. “Whatever happens tonight, I don’t think playing music is going to be involved. An assault rifle or the like would fit in that thing just fine. I’d put my money on that, if I were a gambler.”

  “And,” Max wondered, “what’s Ms. Parker got in her big bag?”

  “Her bag’s got an open top,” Anna said. “I took a good look inside when we were talking to them just now. She’s got a big beach towel that’s trying to hide some kind of radio and maybe even a good-sized pistol.”

  “You’re really sharp. My family thinks I used to work for the CIA. Maybe they were thinking of you.”

  Anna laughed. They went into the wheelhouse, and she started up the engine.

  “I hope you’re wrong, and he really does have a trombone in that case of his,” Max said.

  “I wouldn’t bet my boat on it,” Anna said.

  The sound of the engine starting had brought Captain Bob and Captain Jim to their respective posts at the bow and stern of the boat. Anna signaled to them, and they each cast off the lines that held it to the pier. They both waited a moment at their posts. Then they both returned to the galley after they were sure the Señorita Anna was underway.

  “What happens if we do get into some real shooting?” Max asked.

  “If we’re not back in a couple of days, the old ladies of the church will come and set up some white crosses at our empty place at the pier.” Then she laughed and added, “And even sooner, the young punks that hang out at the corner will strip my car.”

  “That’s not very comforting,” Max said.

  Anna didn’t answer. She was intent on the controls as she circled slowly away from the pier and headed west out of the harbor into the falling darkness.

  When she unfolded the paper Cofresí had given her, she studied it again. She checked some of her instruments and looked more than once at the diver’s watch on her wrist. “Well we’re to meet the other boat out toward the Dominican Republic. Just had a new moon the other day. Even with a clear sky, it’ll be almost totally dark when we meet.” Anna shrugged. “I suppose, after all, that’s my specialty.”

  “We’re counting on you.” Max smiled.

  “Thanks, a little extra pressure is all I need.”

  “You’ll do fine,” he assured her. “You’ve been doing this a long time, and besides,”—he gestured toward Anna’s collection of little plastic statues—“you’ve got your guys here to take care of you.”

  “That I do. And the stars, I suppose.” Anna stepped closer to the windshield for a moment and looked up into the sky. “I don’t see the constellation Gemini tonight. I think that’s a spring and summer thing. But the old sailor expression, ‘by Gemini’ refers to the stars named Pollux and Castor, the Roman gods of sailors.”

  “So we’ve got them watching over us too?”

  Anna returned to the wheel. “Them and the spirits of all the old shipwrecked sailors. It’s said that those spirits can see inside you, and if they like you they help and guide you safely home.”

  “You believe that too?”

  “I do. I can feel them guiding me right now…but I also feel weird about transporting a dead man’s bones, like we’re about to do. I know boats carry dead bodies here and there. But I’m getting a weird feeling about Señor Cofresí and that Ms. Parque de Bombas, too.”

  “Who am I to argue with you on any of that?” Max asked. “I don’t know much about seafaring feelings, and I don’t know much sailor lore. I do know the Irish sailors referred to the red light district in…I think it was Liverpool, as the Holy Ground. Maybe Ms. Parker, being the kind who would likely work in a place like that, will have a good effect on us sailors here.”

  “Never heard that one. I’ll stick with my saints, stars, and gods, and just hope the spirits of the old dead shipwrecked sailors will smile down on us too.”

  Max said, “Amen.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say to that.

  He could feel the water getting a little rougher as Anna sped up, having cleared the inner harbor. She concentrated on her piloting, and Max remained silent for a while.

  Then Anna looked at her watch and spoke up. “Why don’t you go see how our passengers are faring in the galley below?”

  “With all that rum you bought today, they’re probably already all passed out.” Max smiled. “Thought you said this wasn’t a cruise ship.”

  “I did say that.”

  “Thank God you didn’t also get us tequila.”

  “We can get the very best, imported directly from Mexico. You know, the kind with the dead worm in the bottle.”

  “Last time I had some of that, I must have hallucinated,” Max said. “I was sure there was a marching band in my kitchen.”

  Anna laughed. “Even though you’re the captain, I’m for keeping you strictly on beer.”

  “Okay. And I agree to let you keep giving the orders till I get the feel for how it’s supposed to be done.”

  “Good,” Anna agreed. “This trip, we’re not playing around.”

  Max almost said “amen” again. But instead he touched the beak of his new captain’s cap in a salute and headed to check on his crew and the passengers below.

  Anna concentrated on her piloting. She was on the course she had set for them, and she had reached the cruising speed she wanted. All the boat’s systems appeared to be working well. She let out a long slow breath of air. So far, at least, she was thinking, the saints and gods and all were letting things go pretty well.

  Max returned after only a short time away. “Captain Jim’s down there cooking up some kind of jambalaya thing with fish and sausage. Looks like he’s going to serve it over rice and beans. They’ve opened one bottle of rum, but they all seem pretty sober for now.”

  “Has the card game started?” Anna asked.

  “Not yet. I wonder how it will go. Your father doesn’t have a boat to bet anymore, and Cofresí can’t bet the tuna plant. That belongs to my family. I’m here to make sure of that.”

  “Maybe he’ll bet Ms. Parque de Bombas.”

  “A little more rum, and they’ll be asking her to play strip poker, I’m sure,” Max said. “I’ll go check on them in a while and let you know how it’s going.”

  “I’m going to take a break soon and go down there myself,” Anna said. She looked at her watch. “Soon as I figure that jambalaya’s ready, I’m going on my lunch break, and you can take the wheel.”

  “Aye, aye,” Max said, and he saluted her again.

  ****

  By the time Anna came back from her break, Max was very ready for some of Captain Jim’s jambalaya himself, even if it was being served over the same old rice and beans.

  “They were talking about starting the card game,” Anna said. “They were asking if you might join them.”

  “I told you I said no to their card game.” Max was not about to waver.

  “Captain Jim did a good job with the jambalaya,” Anna said after she scanned the instruments and took the wheel back from Max.

  Max thought of something. “You mentioned Pollux and Castor, the old Roman gods watching over us sailors. Didn’t the ancient Romans predict the future by examining sacrificed pigeon entrails? I’ll bet your Santeriá stuff does the same thing with chickens.”

  “Our chickens just lay eggs.” Anna shrugged. “I’ve been here for a while, but I’m a mainlander like you. That’s all secret stuff, as far as I know.”

  “But maybe we could sacrifice one or two of the chickens anyway, for good luck, of course, and then tomorrow night I could cook us a good Italian chicken dinner.”

  “Max, you stop that,” Anna objected. “Like I just said, their job, their role on this boat, is laying eggs, not providing dinner.”

  “I named one of them Cacciatore. She and Fricassee’ll do just fine.”

  “Max, shut up,” Anna demanded. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you’d been seriously in the rum.”

  “No, just kidding.” Max laug
hed. “Our Puerto Rican chickens probably wouldn’t appreciate being part of international cuisine anyway. You know, there’s too much tension on this trip. I’m just trying to lighten up things a bit.”

  “Thanks,” Anna said, but she didn’t smile.

  Max shrugged and went out onto the deck outside the wheelhouse door and headed on down to the galley below. He immediately felt the atmosphere had deteriorated from his first visit down there. The galley air was hot and humid compared to the night air above, and the whole crowd seemed to have gotten quite a bit drunk. Señor Cofresí had taken off his suit coat. Max was glad Captains Bob and Jim hadn’t taken off their shirts, or Ms. Parker as well. She was sitting between Cofresí and Captain Jim. They were all laughing as they passed around a bottle of Don Q rum. The three men had filled the air with the smoke of a couple of good cigars apiece.

  Señor Cofresí took a swig from the rum bottle and offered the bottle to Max.

  Max shook his head and refused. “No, I’m on duty,” he said.

  Everyone laughed.

  Max still didn’t take the bottle.

  “We’re well under way,” he reported. “And all is well above.”

  “Excellent,” Señor Cofresí said.

  Max went to the stove and helped himself to a big bowl of the rice and beans, and then put the fish and sausage jambalaya on top of that. He returned to the table, but he didn’t sit down.

  Max continued to stand where he was. He didn’t want to join their party. I’m the captain, he kept thinking, Soy Capitán. The bottle started its way around again. Max felt awkward just standing there. Ms. Parker smiled at him. Max gave a sort of salute. He took his bowl and a fork and retreated up the short ladder to the door and the deck.

  Anna glanced around when he came into the wheelhouse. “That was really quick. How’s it going down there?”

  “They’re passing around the bottle of rum, and every one of them looks pretty drunk to me.”

  Anna laughed. “And I suppose Ms. Parque de Bombas is keeping the boys entertained?”

  Max shrugged. “Can’t tell who’s leading the entertainment, but the card game seems to have been forgotten.”