I struggled free and turned to face him.
'What's with you?' I asked, anger pushing through the fear. 'Can't you find any five-year-olds to torture?'
It may not be the smartest move to antagonise the beast, but it seems to work for the matador.
Mind you, the matador has more backup. Like a bunch of guys on horses, with spears and stuff. And when he waves a red rag at a bull, at least he has a sword hidden underneath it.
I didn't have any weapons, but I guess when you reach the point where there's no escape, you figure you might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb – which is an old English saying that probably has something to do with being brave, when cowardice hasn't worked all that well.
When I said 'no escape', as it turned out, that wasn't strictly true.
Just when I could see his fists bunching up, and his arm-muscles tensing for the pile-driver that I knew was about to descend, a group of late-morning joggers appeared around the bend in the track, their shuffling feet bringing them closer with every second.
If only I could stall for time ...
Suddenly, I had a brainwave. I went down on one knee and started doing up my shoelace – which wasn't actually undone, until I undid it.
Clearly, this confused Bone-Digger – who was probably far more used to kids begging for mercy, or trying, unsuccessfully, to break and run. And when he's confused, he doesn't react too quickly.
I guess it's a bit like trying to download a movie when you've only got 640k of RAM.
By the time he'd worked out that he could still pile-drive me in a kneeling position, it was about twenty seconds too late. The group of power-shufflers had arrived, and I was up on my feet.
'Mind if I join you?' I asked, and one of the old men who'd beaten us on the Lido Deck the day before smiled a welcome.
'If you think you can keep up,' he said, and made space for me at the far side of the group.
Having just completed a gruelling five k, I wasn't so certain I could do much better than their slow shuffle, but I smiled back and joined them, leaving Barry Barnes fuming at the side of the track.
Foiled again ...
When we were safely around the other side of the track, the old man turned to me.
'That was a nice move, kid. I thought you were a goner for a minute.'
'You knew?' I asked.
He nodded. 'Wasn't hard to pick. What're you going to do about it?'
I shrugged. 'Not much I can do – unless you're as good at martial arts as you are at shuffleboard, and you have some instant advice.'
He considered for a few paces, 'Wax on, wax off,' he said and chuckled to himself.
'I'll try to remember that,' I said, as I peeled off down the ramp that led to the Lido Deck, making sure it was as far as possible from where Bone-Breaker was standing, waiting for the group to come around again.
I didn't get any particular pleasure from making Barry Barnes look stupid. After all, Nature had done the hard work, all I had to do was make the most of it.
Besides, any pleasure I might have felt was tempered by the fact that I still had to survive another whole day – and (which turned out to be more to the point) a whole night.
14
Karaoke
THE WORLD ACCORDING TO SUZI
They give Nobel Prizes to great discoveries and inventions.
Well, they should have Un-Nobel Prizes for inventions that have done absolutely nothing to advance the cause of human civilisation. And my vote for the first Un-Nobel Prize would be to the sadists who invented karaoke.
Karaoke, according to my music teacher, Mr Dunn, is 'the art form of a culturally bankrupt society' – but I don't think he was thinking about anyone who takes it as seriously as Adrian took the Gala Farewell Karaoke Competition and Family Fun Night.
And besides, he's used the same line about rap, R&B, techno and country and western music at different times, so I think it's pretty safe to say that Mr Dunn has a relatively narrow idea of what constitutes art that isn't 'culturally bankrupt'.
Mind you, having listened to the first eight or so contestants in the Gala Farewell Karaoke Competition, I could see where he was coming from.
Personally, I think if you put enough creative energy into it, then almost anything can become art. Unfortunately, creative energy was something that was sadly lacking from the tuneless renditions of 'My Way', 'Blue Suede Shoes', 'I Will Always Love You' and, inevitably, 'Dancing Queen' – which are the particular horrors that remain etched most clearly in my memory from the competition.
The only halfway entertaining effort was an old couple who didn't actually sing at all, but played the spoons, accompanied by Van Morrison's 'Moondance'.
I think the fact that they didn't try to sing was a huge mark in their favour – at least as far as I was concerned.
Of course, every act that murdered another famous song brought us one step closer to Adrian's inevitable victory. I mean, at least he could hold a tune, so he had to be a shoo-in, compared to what had gone before – even though we didn't have a clue what he was going to sing.
Which was why we were in really good spirits.
At least, it was why I was in really good spirits. Jules was in really good spirits because Jenna had chosen to sit with us to cheer Adrian on. I don't think even the old guy who took a vocal axe to 'Love Me Tender' could ruin that feeling.
Then came the big moment.
I don't know if they drew the positions out of a hat, or whether the entertainment coordinator had chosen to reward Adrian's dedication by making him the final act (knowing, no doubt, that every show needs a climax – even a second-rate karaoke competition). Whatever the reason, when Adrian was introduced, we knew that the only thing that could prevent him from winning was if he tripped over on the way onto the stage and fractured his vocal chords.
Which he certainly didn't do.
Another thing he didn't do, much to Jules' delight, was to sing 'Don't Cry for Me Argentina' – or any other show tune.
You see, the reason he'd been working on the computer for so long in the previous days was because he'd been editing together a medley of different songs, to show off his skills.
He began with a guitar solo that sounded like something from the Eighties – Queen maybe. Whoever it was, it was loud and powerful, and he made his entrance diving in from the side of the stage, rolling and arriving at the microphone, just as the music changed and he began singing.
Even now, I couldn't tell you what songs were in the performance – I thought I recognised bits of Oasis, Silverchair and the Goo Goo Dolls, and I don't know how he made them all fit, but he did.
It wasn't what I'd expected, and I know it wasn't what Jules expected – he was standing there with his mouth open and his eyes wide, like he'd seen a ghost.
When Adrian finished – by nailing the high note, and dropping down into a perfect split – the crowd was silent for maybe a millisecond, before breaking out in applause.
It would have been louder, if there'd been more than a handful of young people on the entire ship, but even the older passengers recognised that what they had just seen had taken karaoke to a whole new level.
I cheered myself hoarse – and so did Jules.
And Jenna Hamilton, who stood staring up at Adrian as he took his bow.
I recognised that look, because I'd been seeing it plastered on Jules' face for the past two weeks ...
In the end, there was only one thing that happened that night that was a bigger surprise than Adrian's amazing performance – and it wasn't the fact that about ten minutes after he took his bows, a huge storm hit the ship.
That, at least, was predictable.
The most surprising thing was the amazing performance of the judges, who, for some inexplicable reason, unanimously awarded first prize to the old couple who'd played the spoons – that and, of course, the fact that most of the audience seemed to accept the decision without question.
It turned out that the judging panel ju
st happened to consist of three members of the old couple's bridge team and an old man who was so profoundly deaf that he couldn't hear any of the acts, so he just voted the way everyone else did.
I thought that Adrian took it very well, all things considered – but I guess that was just a mark of his professionalism. He smiled when they gave him the two-hundred-dollar runner-up cheque, and even shook hands with the winners before he left the stage and sneaked out on deck through a side door.
Jules, Jenna and I followed him.
We found him standing by the rail, near the pool on the Lido Deck, staring out at the horizon – which you couldn't see, because it was pitch-black out, and the moon was obscured by thick, black, boiling clouds.
'You were robbed,' Jules began. 'No, you weren't just robbed, you were ... violated. And robbed.'
To tell you the truth, Jules looked a whole lot more upset than Adrian, who turned towards us and managed a smile.
'What can I say?' he said. 'It was a tough crowd. Still, I've got two hundred bucks. That'll buy quite a few lessons.'
'Well, I thought you were amazing,' Jenna said, and moved to stand next to him at the rail. 'I'm Jenna, by the way.'
I could see where this was going, and I turned to look at Jules, to see if he'd seen it yet. He was standing there with his eyes wide and his mouth open, but it wasn't anything to do with Jenna – or Adrian.
He was staring at Barry Barnes, who'd just appeared from the shadows behind Jenna.
For once, his target wasn't Jules. I guess, in the Bone-Digger's warped prehistoric logic, Adrian's performance was reason enough to make him a target.
'Good evening, Ladies,' he said quietly, looking straight at Adrian as he said it. 'What do you think you're looking at?'
It was in the next moment that I realised the sarcasm-reflex gene ran strong in the Macaffrey clan.
'I don't know,' Adrian replied, 'I don't have my dinosaur book with me.'
Okay, so it wasn't too original – but you had to give him credit for kahunas.
It took Barnes a second to process the insult, and at about the same instant that it hit him, so did the first raindrops, which were the size of squash balls and stung like bullets – but no one was moving.
He lunged forward, sweeping Jenna aside with one arm as he went for Adrian, who ducked, just in time to avoid immediate annihilation.
Jenna stumbled to her knees, looking scared, and that was when Jules exploded.
'Enough!' he shouted. 'I've had enough.' And he dived at Barry Barnes, who was taken off-guard and, off-balance, staggered backwards against the railing. But Barnes was strong. He bounced off the railing like a wrestler and grabbed Jules by the arm, swinging him around and sending him flying towards the edge of the pool.
Jules hit the lip and fell to his knees with one hand in the water, struggling to avoid overbalancing and falling in, as his opponent stepped towards him with a feral look in his eyes, and his fists held ready. But Barnes never got to land the intended punch.
'Hey, Godzilla!'
Right on cue, just as Adrian yelled his challenge, the clouds opened, pouring rain down on us in buckets, and a sheet of lightning lit up the entire sky behind him.
It was like a scene from a Spielberg movie.
Instinctively, Bone-Boy turned towards the sound, and as he did, Adrian did the most incredible thing.
He dropped backwards onto one hand and kicked both legs out in front of him, hitting Barnes in the stomach and winding him, as he continued over in an almost perfect back-flip.
In the same motion, he regathered himself, crouching with his legs apart and both hands on the ground between them. Then he extended one leg vertically, in an almost perfect split, catching the bully under the chin and driving him backwards.
Barnes teetered on the edge of the pool for what seemed like forever, then fell over backwards, almost in slow motion, slamming into the water. We stood there for a moment in the pouring rain, stunned at what had just happened, as the thunder crashed directly overhead and the lightning split the sky.
'Suzi?' The word was a shout. I recognised Jules' voice, and part of me could hear the shock in it.
But only part of me.
The rest was staring down at my legs, which were straight, and standing solid on the deck in front of my chair.
As Jules had stumbled towards the pool, something in my brain had snapped, and I'd stood up with an instinct to protect him.
I'd stood up.
Which meant ... that the doctors were right. There was nothing physically wrong with my legs.
As the realisation dawned, they collapsed, dropping me to the rain-swept deck like a sack of wet cement.
15
Capoeira and Variations
JULES' STORY
As Suzi fell to the ground, I ran across to her.
'You were standing,' I said – which was a pretty pointless thing to say, under the circumstances, but it also happened to be true. Which was totally amazing.
'You noticed,' Suzi replied. I could see the shock on her face, and I was about to make some other equally obvious remark, when we heard something from the vicinity of the pool.
A gurgling, splashing sound, like ... Well, like Barry Barnes drowning.
I ran over to the pool-edge, to see him floundering in the middle of the pool.
'I ... can't ... SWIM!' he screamed, and you could taste the terror in him.
I hardly hesitated, which, afterwards, I was rather proud of. Kicking off my shoes, I dived in, and came up a metre from his flailing arms.
As I reached for him, I could see that he was panicking, so, avoiding his grasping hands, I got around behind him and grabbed him under the chin, positioning my body behind his back, so he couldn't grab me and drag us both down.
Holding on tight, I kicked for the side, where the others were waiting to haul him out.
He lay on the tiles for a few seconds, coughing the water from his windpipe, then he rolled over on his back, and let the rain wash over him.
Finally, he sat up, and looked me straight in the eye.
'I'm sorry,' he said, then he struggled to his feet, and stumbled off towards the nearest doorway.
He never said another word to me, and I only saw him once more – that was the next day, when we were getting ready to disembark. He was struggling to carry two huge suitcases down the gangplank, followed by a giant of a woman, who I assumed must be his mother – seeing as how she had the same nose as her son.
On that night, though, sitting together in the pouring rain, I don't think any of us were thinking about Barry Barnes.
Jenna was sitting close to Adrian, just staring at him – as if he'd come down out of the sky on a cloud.
'How did you do that?' she asked.
'Do what?' he replied. I could see that she was having the same effect on him as she'd had on me for the past two weeks, and I realised that, what with his hours spent below deck practising for the competition, he could well have gone through the entire cruise without actually seeing her.
'That ... kicking thing. That you did to ...'
Finally, it dawned.
'Oh, that,' he said. 'That was just capoeira – Brazilian martial arts dancing. The first one is called the macaco and the second one was a variation on the meia lua. I cut back on the sweep and added a split, to give it a bit more kick. Actually, you're not supposed to make contact in capoeira, but I figured, "What the heck?" '
'Well, I thought you were amazing,' Jenna went on. 'And I loved your singing. Did you mix the track yourself?'
Suddenly, I realised what was happening – and after two weeks of Jenna Hamilton obsession, the bubble finally burst.
And the funny thing was, I didn't really care.
Suzi was sitting on the floor close by, still in shock, staring at her legs, as if they were some alien life-form that had mysteriously attached themselves to her.
'Are you okay?' I asked, for something to say.
'Okay?' she said. 'I can wa
lk, Jules. How do you think I feel?'
For once, it didn't sound like a trick question.
As it turned out, she couldn't. Walk, I mean. At least not straight away.
After going years without using your legs, you have to train yourself to walk again, and it was going to take a lot of hard work and frustration before she would get around without a walking frame. But that was all in the months to come.
At that moment, sitting there in the rain, on the deck of The Polynesian Queen, it was enough simply to know that it was possible.
I was so focussed on Suzi, that I didn't notice Adrian and Jenna getting up, until Jenna came over to me.
'Adrian and I are going inside,' she said. 'He's going to walk me to my cabin.'
Of course he is, I thought. I could see the look on his face.
Then she leaned down and kissed me on the cheek.
'Thank you,' she said.
'For what?' I replied.
'For trying to protect me.'
Then she stood up, and took Adrian's hand and they walked off towards D-Deck.
So, I finally got my first – and last – kiss from Jenna Hamilton.
As they left, I could hear her talking to him.
'I was telling the others earlier, I just scored a lead in a new soap. Prime-time. Suzi tells me you're an actor, as well as everything else, and, the thing is ... They're still looking for a couple of male leads. I could put a word in for you, if you like ...'
If you like ...
Jenna Hamilton and a lead on prime-time TV. Suddenly, being beaten in the karaoke contest – even by a pair of geriatric spoon-players – didn't seem like such a huge loss.
And then we were alone.
I looked at Suzi, and she looked at me, and there was something in that look that was ... well, different.
Or perhaps it was just that I was looking at her with different eyes.
'What made you stand up like that?' I asked. 'I mean ...'
As usual, I wasn't at all sure what I meant.
She thought for a moment.
'I guess it was just a reflex. I thought he was going to ... I thought you were ... Come on, Jules! Do I have to paint a picture? I was scared. For you.'
Cruisin' Page 9