Honey and Leonard

by Mark Paul Smith

  Once again, she realized how important this man had become to her. He was more important than any person in her life, including her mother. Falling in love with Leonard had taught her how to live without fear. Her faith in their love was stronger than all her fears.

  His love had shown her what was really important in life: giving your self away.

  What would she do without him? Here she was, hiding from a mob while trying to keep from drowning and she was more concerned about Leonard than herself.

  As Honey was about to dive under the boat to check the other side, Leonard's head popped out of the water about twenty yards away. He was near the stern of the boat but just out of sight of the dock. The boats were backed in to the harbor, stern to dock. "Honey," he called out, his voice echoing between the hulls of side-by-side yachts.

  "Leonard!" Honey shouted loud enough to be heard over the din on the dock.

  Leonard turned toward the sound of her voice and began swimming to it. He couldn't see her.

  "Leonard, I'm right here," she said splashing the water to help him see her. There was just enough light from the dock for him to see the splashes. "Come on, I'm right here. Swim to me. There's a line we can hang onto."

  "Hold on. I see you. You can stop the splashing. Let's not let everybody know where we are."

  Leonard was laughing by the time he reached the anchor line. "Man, this water is cold. I'm not used to swimming with my shoes on. I'm going to kick them off."

  "No, don't do that. We don't want to leave any clues. If they find our shoes but not us, they'll know we swam away. Where is your hat?"

  "It's back up on the dock. I left it there when that idiot wanted to fight."

  Honey kissed him hard on the lips and said, "We can't stay in this water too long. Come on. Each of these boats has anchor lines. We'll swim from one to the next until we reach the next pier. I can see it. It's not far. Maybe three boats down."

  "You are one clever girl. I knew what you were doing as soon as I saw that you didn't come up for air. I waited until the police were almost through the crowd before I jumped in to follow you. That was some jump. It was a lot farther to the water than I thought. I must have gone twenty feet underwater."

  "What's happening up there? It sounds like people are going crazy."

  "I don't know but I think some people came into the water after me."

  "Oh, I'm so glad to see you and your wet head," Honey hugged him, cheek to cheek.

  "Who would have thought we'd end up in the water at night in St. Tropez?"

  "Anything is possible with you, sweetie. Come on, let's swim for the pier. I'm starting to stiffen up from the cold. How's your arm?"

  "The arm is fine. Swimming in this cold made me forget all about it. Where's the pier? What are we going to do once we get there?"

  "I don't know, you'll think of something."

  They swam around the bow of the next boat just as a powerful light illuminated the anchor line where they had just been. People were looking for them.

  "Better keep moving," Leonard said as they looked back and saw the lights sweeping the water.

  "Here we go," Honey said as she began swimming for the next anchor line.

  When they finally reached the pier, there was no ladder out of the water. They clung to the inflated rubber side of a dinghy. There was a ladder up from the dinghy to the pier but no ladder down from the boat to the water. They clung to the side of the dinghy.

  "What now?" Honey asked as she caught her breath.

  "We're going to get you up and into that boat."

  "What about you?"

  "I'm going to push you up once you get halfway up."

  Honey threw her arms up without asking any more questions and grabbed the rubber dinghy as Leonard boosted her by her butt into the boat from the water. She flopped into the dinghy and got up on her knees to assess the situation. Once again, she marveled at Leonard's strength.

  Honey leaned over the boat, trying to figure how to get Leonard up and into the dinghy. She knew he was too heavy for her to haul into the boat. "Hang on, sweetie," she said, "I'm looking for a rope or a ladder in this thing to get you out of the water."

  As she tried to hide the worry from her voice, a man in a dark uniform jumped down from the pier and into the boat behind her. He was quick as a cat. Honey tried to jump back in the water, but the man already had his arms around her midsection.

  "Relax," he said in perfect English with a British accent. "I'm not with the police. I'm here to help."

  Honey relaxed in his arms, and he let go of her. Then he reached over the edge of the rubber boat and hauled Leonard out of the water and over the edge of the boat with what seemed like superhuman strength. In one quick motion, he had Leonard on his stomach, and in another move, he grabbed Leonard by his pants and pulled him into a standing position.

  Leonard started to say "Thank you," but he had to lean over the edge of the boat to throw up some of the water he had inhaled on the way up.

  By the time Leonard had collected himself and sat down in the boat, the uniformed man had fired up a powerful motor on the back of the dinghy and was pulling away from the pier at a brisk pace.

  "Where are you taking us?" Honey asked.

  "And who are you?" Leonard added as he scooped up some water to rinse out his mouth.

  "I am an employee of Mr. Luther Patrick. I've been following you since Avignon. This is Mr. Patrick's boat. I was on my way to retrieve it to assist in the search for the two of you when I found you on board. Frankly, I'm having a difficult time believing my good fortune."

  "Where are you taking us?" Honey repeated her question. "And why are you wearing that gun?"

  "Do not be alarmed by the weapon. I am part of Mr. Patrick's security detail. I'm taking you to Mr. Patrick's ship. It's too large for the dock. He's anchored in the bay. You can't see the ship right now. That French military vessel is in the way. Once we get around it, you'll see The Sinbad ."

  "The what?" Leonard asked.

  The man with the gun laughed. "The Sinbad," he said. "That's the name of Mr. Patrick's ship."

  "Who is this, Mr. Patrick?" Honey asked.

  "He's an international businessman," the man said as he motioned them to get down in the boat. "Lie down, quickly! I see boats launching from the destroyer. They'll be shining lights on us in less than a minute. Here, throw this blanket over yourselves."

  Honey and Leonard got prone on the wooden floor of the dinghy and gratefully wrapped the blanket around themselves. They were wet, and the night air was increasingly cold as the dinghy picked up speed.

  "Here they come," the man said tensely as he sent some kind of signal with his flashlight to the approaching military boats. Honey and Leonard heard the roar of their engines and felt the dinghy bobbing up and down from their wakes. The military boats passed them by without even pausing for inspection.

  "Amazing," the man said. "They think they're assisting in a search for bodies, I'm sure. Little do they know, I've got the precious cargo onboard."

  "The man pulled a small radio out of his breast pocket and said, "This is Ivan One. I'm headed to you with quite a surprise. Please tell Mr. Patrick to be prepared to meet his most honored guests."

  Leonard unwrapped himself and sat up in the dinghy. "Are we the 'most honored guests'? Pardon me if I feel like a turkey being invited to Thanksgiving dinner."

  The man smiled easily at Leonard's sense of humor. "Don't worry," he said. "Mr. Patrick is a most gracious host. He's been anxious to meet you. The first thing we've got to do is get you out of those wet costumes."

  "Why do you call them costumes?" Honey asked.

  The man didn't answer until after a thoughtful silence. "I spotted you in Avignon at the same time as the news reporters. It wasn't that hard. You were literally dancing on top of the city walls."

  "Were you following us?" Honey asked.

  "Half of France is following your every move. People love you. You have become overnight folk heroes.
"

  "Following us on the news is one thing," Honey said. "Following us on foot is quite another matter. Why were you tracking us?"

  "Mr. Patrick took a personal interest in your story and he assigned me to locate you and find out everything I could."

  "So you followed us to the church at Avignon," Leonard surmised.

  "I saw you leave the church in the same clothes you're wearing now and I saw you switch cars to the black Peugeot. A very good move on your part, I might add. I can't believe the priest accommodated you as much as he did. I am sure he will pay a terrible price for his kindness."

  "All I want to know," Leonard said, changing the topic through chattering teeth, "is how long until we can get into some dry clothes. I'm freezing."

  Honey nodded her agreement with chattering teeth.

  The man pulled out his radio again, "This is Ivan One. We're coming around the destroyer. You can see my signal. Please have the butler stand by. I need dry clothing for a man about Mr. Patrick's size and for a woman who seems to be about five feet tall, slender build."

  "Five, four, 115 pounds," Honey corrected him.

  "Make that five feet, four inches tall, 115 pounds," the man said into the radio.

  Honey smiled at the correction and then gasped as The Sinbad came into full view, "That's bigger than the Queen Elizabeth."

  "Not quite. She's 147 meters with room for 50 guests, a crew of 65 and a security detail of 20."

  "What did I tell you, Leonard, about the two ways to get enough money to buy one of these yachts?"

  "I don't think you ever got time to explain the two ways," Leonard said.

  Honey lowered her voice and said, "You either inherit the money or you break the law."

  "By the way," the security man said, overhearing her. "My name is Michael Maxwell. And, may I assure you, Mr. Patrick is no common criminal."

  "I can see that," Leonard said.

  "What I meant to say is that all Mr. Patrick's businesses are strictly legal and above board."

  * * *

  Honey and Leonard waited to meet Luther Patrick in the ship's elaborate, main barroom, which was well trimmed in mahogany paneling and shining brass. Employees dressed in black uniforms with silver buttons and belts provided them with dry clothing and gourmet snacks. A man wearing a black tuxedo brought them a bottle of Chateauneuf-du-Pape and opened it with a flourish that was almost sexual. He used a corkscrew to start the cork out of the bottle and then pried it back and forth with his thumbs until it came out with a gentle pop. He then left them alone in the room.

  "This guy is good," Leonard said. "And so is his boss. He knows our favorite wine. I can't wait to meet this guy."

  "They've been following us all over France," Honey said. "It almost feels like we've been kidnapped."

  "Well, it certainly beats drowning in the harbor of St. Tropez," Leonard said as he drained his first glass of wine.

  "Don't you dare drink that fine wine like it was water. You know how you get. You'll forget where you are."

  As she spoke, they were startled when one of the mahogany panels slid open and in walked a man who looked to be in his middle fifties. He was wearing a light blue, silk shirt with dark blue khaki pants and white leather deck shoes. He had a full head of silver, wavy hair. He would have been strikingly handsome except for a hawkish nose, which was a little too big.

  "Excuse me, I didn't mean to frighten you, but I just love coming through the secret panel. It's my favorite shortcut on the ship. I am your host, Luther Patrick, and I am at your service. I did not mean to keep you waiting. I see the butler found you ship's uniforms to fit. Rest assured, we'll find more suitable clothing in the very near future."

  Honey turned on the Southern charm, extended her hand and said, "Why, Mr. Patrick, we are thrilled to make your acquaintance. I feel we owe you a deep debt of gratitude. Your man rescued us and now you have made us feel safe and warm again."

  Luther kissed her hand and shook Leonard's hand warmly. "I know you have questions, Mr. Atkins. Rest assured I will answer them all over dinner if you will be kind enough to join me."

  "You say 'rest assured' quite a bit," Leonard observed.

  "Do I?" Luther asked. "Rest assured I'm only trying to make you feel comfortable."

  "There you go again," Luther said.

  "Oh, yes, I see what you mean," Luther chuckled. "Thank you for pointing that out. I'll have to work on mixing it up a bit."

  "What flag do you fly on this ship?" Leonard asked.

  "Why, the flag of the United States of America, of course. I was born and raised on a dairy farm in Minnesota. You and I have more in common than you might think."

  "Your hand is pretty rough for a guy who lives on a fairy tale boat."

  "Leonard," Honey scolded.

  "No, no," Luther said, "I take no offense. I'm proud to say I do as much real work as anybody on board. Like I said, I was raised on a dairy farm."

  "Milk those cows twice every day, come hell or high water," Leonard said, relaxing a bit. "We had cows growing up."

  "We would be honored to join you for dinner, Mr. Patrick," Honey said, responding to his invitation.

  "Please, call me Luther. And may I call you Honey and Leonard?"

  "Please do," Honey cooed.

  "That's what they call us in the papers," Leonard said. "To tell the truth, we've been shocked by all this attention. What did we do to get people like you following us all over France?"

  "We're old and in love and on the run," Honey said.

  "That sums it up nicely," Luther laughed. "Forgive my surveillance. To tell the truth, I thought about bringing you on board for your own safety. You've come close to being caught several times. Now, here you are, quite by accident. I assure you, you are free to leave at any time. You are strictly my honored guests. We were in the Mediterranean when your story began to take over the news. I come to you strictly out of curiosity and the desire to be of assistance. I heard about a farmer from the Midwest and his lady friend being called the Bonnie and Clyde of love. Who could resist a story like that?"

  Honey and Leonard waited for him to continue.

  "And may I say neither of you looks as old as I would have thought, particularly after your circumstances of this evening."

  "Why, thank you, kind sir," Honey said. "Love is our elixir of youth."

  "Well said," Luther commented as he and Leonard shared a sideways glance. "So please, join me for dinner. I cannot believe my good fortune. I've been wondering for quite some time if this moment would ever happen."

  "Oh, do take us on a tour of this marvelous ship," Honey said. "I've never seen anything quite like it." She could tell Leonard did not like the attention she paid to Luther, but under the circumstances, what choice did they have but to graciously accept his hospitality?

  A valet entered through the main door. Luther directed him, "Please turn on the television so we can catch up on the news regarding our guests before we head off for dinner."

  The first thing they saw on the screen was a photo of themselves. This shot cut to a French newsman who was obviously speaking in the hushed tones of someone in mourning.

  "What's he saying?" Leonard asked.

  "He's saying the two of you are presumed dead by drowning off the dock in St. Tropez."

  "Look how sad he looks," Honey said. "Isn't that touching? It makes me want to cry, and I know I'm not dead."

  "It's not everyday you get to watch your own funeral on television," Leonard said.

  Luther laughed and said, "Leonard, you and I are going to get along just fine."

  "You know what? I think we just might do that," Leonard said. "We do owe you a debt of gratitude for fishing us out of the drink and bringing us onboard. I'd like to thank your man in person if that's possible."

  "Yes, of course. Valet, please ask Mr. Maxwell to join us in the dining room."

  "Shall I turn off the television, Mr. Patrick?"

  Luther looked at Honey, who said, "Yes, I've seen q
uite enough. It's already starting to repeat itself. Please turn it off. I would have hoped they'd found a better photo of me by now. They keep using that one from the Chicago Tribune that makes me look so old. And I don't know why they always have to mention that I'm 77 years old."

  "I wouldn't put you a day past 55," Luther said.

  "Smart man," Leonard said.

  The valet left and Leonard asked, "What can you tell me about this ship? It really is impressive."

  "Well, let's see," Luther began. "It was designed by Maierform and built in 1984 by a company in Denmark. I had it secretly commissioned. It's basically the same boat as the one owned by the King of Saudi Arabia."

  "Oh, so you're in the oil business?" Leonard asked.

  "Among other things," Luther said. "Come, let's head for the dining room. It's at the other end of the ship. I'll give you a guided tour on the way."

  Luther knew every inch of his ship and he loved sharing his hands-on relationship with it. He took them down to the engine room where one of his staff informed Honey and Leonard that The Sinbad had a top speed of 22 knots.

  "How fast is that in miles per hour?" Leonard asked.

  "A little more than 25 miles per hour," Luther answered.

  As the tour continued on the way to the dining room, Luther got his first clues about Leonard's mental condition. Leonard asked about the boat's top speed at least four times in less than twenty minutes. He was tired and repeating himself. Luther shot a knowing glance at Honey.

  "I think we'd better grab a quick bite to eat and get ourselves to bed," Honey said. "It's been a long day."

  "I'll have my staff physician give you two a quick checkup after dinner," Luther said. "No doubt, he can provide whatever medications you may have left behind."

  "You can do that?" Honey asked.

  "We have a rather complete pharmacy on board," Luther said. "Let me know if you have trouble sleeping."