I had never actually out and out lied to her before and the notion of doing so didn’t set well with me. My only justification was that I didn’t want to leave her in a constant state of worry. It was decided that Tom and I were going to tell her that we were delivering a boat for someone to the islands. After all it wasn’t so long ago that I had fallen for that same line.
I never gave Bruce’s father our phone number or address because I wanted to cover all the bases when it came to protecting us should things not be as they seemed. On the third day, after our last conversation I called him at his office. He sounded happy to hear from me and eager for us to meet with him. He informed us that Bob and Lee had finished the Scarab and that the boat was now in the water and ready to go. We agreed to meet early the next day at a house he owned in Ft. Lauderdale where the boat would be.
The next morning we all left the house at the same time, Linda on her way to work and Tom and me on our way to Lauderdale. It was a typical spring day, hot bright sun and a slight southeastern breeze. The drive down in our new car made the day even nicer thanks to the aid of our more than adequate air conditioner.
The house was huge and its back side squared off with the Intracoastal. Bruce’s father was already there and he greeted us before we even reached the door. He seemed anxious as he led us around the corner of the house toward the water.
Out back I could see Lee on the back of the boat coiling up some line. As we got closer to the boat I noticed that its appearance had been drastically changed by its new paint job. Although it was still quite awesome in size alone, it no longer sported its flashy bright red and white colors. Gone, too, were its racing stripes and numbers. In place of all that the boat now wore a skin of dark blue paint with some white pin striping to highlight certain areas of the hull.
Despite its new deceptive image, anyone with any boat sense could see that it was truly a wolf in sheep’s clothing. As we reached the boat, Bob came up from down in the cabin and greeted us.
“Well, what do you think?” he asked.
“Looks great,” I said. “How’s she run?”
“You’re about to find out,” Lee replied in a manner that sounded threatening.
I expected that all five of us would be going out on this shake down run but as Tom and I boarded the boat, Bruce’s father excused himself stating that he would meet us at the house later in the day. With that, Lee pushed the boat away from the pier. As he did so, Bob fired up the engines. Any attempts to disguise the boat vanished with the turn of the key.
When the engines came to life you could feel their power vibrate right though the hull of the boat. I felt a slight bit of anticipation. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on the controls but, at the same time, was having some reservations about the boat, wondering if perhaps it was too much boat for Tom and me to handle.
As we made our way south toward the inlet I began to realize that besides being a powerful boat, it also drew a lot of attention. Despite the number of exotic speed boats that can be found in South Florida, it was obvious that there weren’t too many, if any, quite like this one. Like our newly acquired luxury sedan, this boat seemed to command respect from others who saw it as a symbol of wealth and perhaps even more than that.
Upon reaching the inlet, I could see that our timing wasn’t the best for our transition from Waterway to the Atlantic. We were somewhere in between tides and the ocean was now funneling back through the inlet with a vengeance that was creating confused waves as high as eight feet.
As Bob throttled up, Lee suggested that we hold on. Tom and I were both already clenching the grab rail with both hands. When we hit the first series of rough waves you could hear the outdrives scream indicating that the boat was airborne. As the ocean water once again engulfed the drive units we shot ahead and over the next series of waves.
It took less than a minute for us to get through and out beyond the shoreline. Once out on the ocean, the wave action was moderate in comparison. The wind had picked up a bit and the waves were running between two and four feet. Out there on the ocean my first impression of the boat was how dry the cockpit was despite the amount of water that was being sprayed into the air from us pounding the waves.
Bob explained the trim controls to me and sampled various settings to give me an idea of how important this was to both comfort and efficiency of the boat. Then it was my turn and as I took the wheel in hand I was rewarded with a sensation of excitement that was all new to me.
There I was pounding the ocean at over fifty miles an hour in a speed boat that was half the size of a tractor trailer. The boat’s engines hummed in a low-throated manner and weren’t even close to unleashing their full potential. The seas were restricting the boat from showing its true colors, but it was comforting to know that it had reserved power to call on if ever needed. Tom’s turn was next and after watching me make a few mistakes he had a better idea of what to do.
With Tom handling the boat and Lee in close observation of him, Bob suggested that I check out the rest of the boat. Down below was quite spacious. The boat was laid out in a manner that afforded two private cabins for sleeping, a galley with more appliance features than most apartments and a navigation room that was a statement of modern technology. It was equipped with up-to-date navigational equipment, as well as radio transmitters.
Bob explained to me how to use the systems and though it seemed easy enough I wasn’t convinced that I could actually make it work. The system even had an option that would steer the boat to a pre-chosen destination after feeding the computer the necessary information. It also had a radar system that would warn us should any object, such as a ship, get in the way of our course.
It all made sense to me but without proof I questioned whether or not I could actually make it all work. Bob found the coordinates for the Islands of Bimini which lie about fifty miles off the coast of Florida and only about forty miles from where we were. He asked me if I would feel more confident about the system if it were to navigate us there.
Before I could answer, he started showing me how to feed the required information into the computer. Next he yelled up topside for Lee to get ready to switch to autopilot. In a few minutes Bob was saying that it was as simple as that.
“We’ll be there in about an hour,” he said.
Lee stood watch topside while Bob went over the boat’s entire system again, this time explaining it to Tom as well. It didn’t seem too much later that I felt the boat throttle down and heard Lee calling for us. Once topside, I looked around and saw land off our port side a couple of miles away. Lee informed us that it was Bimini and I just assumed that it was.
I wondered to myself why we didn’t go closer to the island but as Lee swung the boast back toward the west I was more interested in getting my hands back on the controls. Lee gave me a compass heading to follow and I settled back to enjoy the ride. The sun was hot but with the motion of the boat the afternoon air was real comfortable.
I was beginning to feel more at ease with the prospect of handling the boat and felt that with the aid of the navigation system we would be able to find our way around. During the ride back Tom and I bled Bob and Lee for any information we felt we might need to know about the boat.
As the coast of Florida came into view I suggested that Bob or Lee take over the boat’s controls. After our ride out through the inlet, I knew that I would not feel comfortable about being responsible for the boat and perhaps even our lives. They both refused and insisted that only after negotiating the inlet myself would I feel more confident when doing it the next time.
Despite my hopes of finding the inlet in less turmoil than it was earlier that day, I could see as we got closer that once again our timing was not right for an easy ride in. This time, however, the tide was on its way back out which actually duplicated the conditions that earlier we had ridden out on.
Just before reaching the inlet, Lee advised me not to slow down once we entered the channel. His suggestion rang with a certain warn
ing and as we hit the first series of rough water I throttled up and we shot across the waves like a 38-foot flying fish. It wasn’t until we were back within the protection of the Intracoastal that I finally let off the gas. As I did, I turned around to find three big shit-eating grins staring at me.
“You’ll do fine,” said Bob.
His telling me that helped me to feel a bit more confident about my abilities but for the next half hour my heart was still pumping from the adrenaline. Back at the dock we tied off the boat and headed for the house.
Inside we found Bruce’s father on the phone having a discussion about weapons with someone on the other end of the line. After hanging up he asked us about our day out on the ocean and if the boat was equipped well enough to suit our needs.
He also wanted to know if Tom and I had passports. It was his opinion that our entry in and exit out of the islands would be easier with a valid passport. After explaining to him that we had never needed such a document before, he suggested that we bring him our birth certificates along with a passport photo. He knew someone who could process the paper work within a couple of days so we could have our passports when we left for the islands.
I assured him that we would get the necessary paper work together and agreed to meet up with him again the next day there at the house. Besides the exchange of paper work needed for our passports, we would take the boat back north with us the following day. With that out of the way, Tom and I excused ourselves and headed home.
On the way home, I stopped by a local marina to inquire about finding our way from the Intracoastal to the canal that backed up to our dock at the house. Many of the new housing developments offered ocean access by way of backyard canals linked to the Intracoastal and then the ocean. Sometimes these paths of access aren’t obvious and in our case, I didn’t want to get lost or run aground in such a boat in the attempt to find our house the next day.
It was a good thing that I inquired because some of the recent dredging that connected the Intracoastal to our particular development hadn’t been marked with depth buoys yet and one had to be extremely cautious when entering the canal.
The man at the marina suggested that, to be on the safe side, we enter or leave at high tide. He then gave us a tide table and said to call a certain UHF radio channel that the marina monitored should we have any problem.
That night at the house Linda and I had our first chance in a while to be alone. I knew there was no easy way of explaining to her what Tom and I were up to. She could sense that something was troubling me and before I could explain myself, she confronted me with her ideas of a scenario that she felt was about to unfold.
Her perception was close enough to the truth that I wondered if my actions in the past few days had been a bit too obvious. As much as she would have liked for me to abandon such an adventure she knew well from times before that any efforts of doing so would be useless.
She did explain to me her needs, one of which was a relationship with more permanence to it. She needed someone who would be there for her all the time and not just when it was convenient. I had little defense. After all, she was right. There had been a number of times that I had entertained the idea of a family life with Linda. She loved kids and often spoke of her desires of having a child of her own. That idea had been appealing to me as well but that was no comfort to her. My actions seemed to speak for themselves.
That night I felt like I had many times as a child when being reprimanded for something I had done wrong. I just sat there at the table pushing the food around the plate with my fork while she went over again an all too familiar monologue about my lack of responsibility. Linda was right.
After all, I was a grown man in my thirties who had been dodging those traditional responsibilities my whole life. None of what she said was news to me. Many times while in a state of the blues I had questioned myself and my ambitions.
In those times of self-doubt I often felt that I had fucked up my whole life because of my casual attitude. Somehow though, I always seemed to justify my motivations and, as the blues would wear off, I would always find myself leaning toward those all too familiar traits that were me.
“Look,” I said. “This is it, I promise.”
“You promise?” she said. “You’re always promising me.”
“Well, this time, I mean it. Just this last time,” I assured her.
“Where does it all end?” she wanted to know.
“Here,” I said. “This is where it all ends. Tom and I have a chance to make some really big money - enough money to live a life that I want for us. A lifestyle that you deserve.”
“I’ve got the lifestyle that I want,” she said. “What I don’t have is you.”
“The lifestyle you want?” I asked. “You call getting up every day at six o’clock and going to work fifty weeks out of a year to afford a two week vacation a life? You work forty to fifty hours a week and all you want to do on the weekend is relax. There is no time for yourself because you’ve given it to everyone else.”
“Some people are happy with their jobs,” Linda said. “I’m doing something I believe in. Something that’s important to me. My contribution to this world we live in.”
“What about you?” I asked. “Don’t you have dreams of places and things you’d like to go and do? Life is too short,” I added. “And, I don’t want to remember it as the thirty years I worked just to get by. If that’s what you call responsibility, then I don’t feel comfortable with it.”
“That’s your problem,” Linda said. “You don’t want any responsibility. You’ll never change,” she said.
“Look,” I said. “I got this house because I truly wanted things to be different for us. I had every intention in the world of staying right here with you this time. I mean that. This guy wants to pay Tom and me a lot of money just to find out about his son. That’s it. We’ll be gone for a few weeks at the most. I really do love you,” I told her. “When I get back you’ll see.”
With that she smiled and questioned why she loved me so much.
“I don’t know,” I said, “but I’m sure glad you do.”
As Linda walked up and hugged me from behind I could feel the relief from being through with the explaining.
“So when do you leave?” Linda asked.
“We’re supposed to leave on Friday but I’m not sure if we’ll have everything we need by then.”
I suggested that we make the most of our time till then. The house had afforded us little privacy but that night we had it all to ourselves. Tom was out making last minute new impressions on some old girlfriends before leaving for the islands. With the aid of some new clothes and a fashionable set of wheels, he was making the most of his new found visions of wealth and the image that it was already projecting.
The following morning I awakened to the smells of breakfast. Looking at my watch, I figured that Linda had taken the day off and wanted to make the most of our last bit of time together. As I made my way toward the kitchen I could hear a female voice that was unfamiliar to me. Entering the kitchen I realized that I was wrong about what I thought to be Linda’s intentions.
The smells of breakfast that I awoke to were Tom’s effort to appease the appetite of his latest conquest. It was obvious that the two of them hadn’t been to bed yet - at least not for the purpose of sleeping. They were both still enjoying the ebb of a good buzz.
Despite our need to go to Lauderdale that day, I couldn’t be disappointed with the fact that Tom was in no shape to do so. Throughout our dealings in the past few weeks Tom had kept himself in good form and was entitled to a bit of self-indulgence. I knew that when the time came that I needed him he would be there and that’s what mattered.
I called Pat to help me with the task of bringing the boat north to the house. Pat had a passion for exotic toys and I knew that he would close shop for the chance to experience the deep V-38.
By the time I got to Pat’s shop it was noontime and I was running late. I called Br
uce’s father and explained that I would be there a little later than we had agreed. That was no problem as he was still waiting for some paper work to arrive. We then planned to meet at his house around 3 o’clock that afternoon. So then, instead of being late, I had some time to kill and I knew just how I was going to spend it.
Attending to the bottom end of my panhead engine was the first promise that I made to myself even before I knew of my situation of expanded wealth. With my bike there in Pat’s garage and all the right tools at my disposal, I could start making good on that promise.
A short time later I was measuring the bearing tolerance and, as suspected, a new crankpin and bearings were in order for the old Harley motor. I washed up all the parts and organized them in a parts box for later attention. Pat assured me that he would give special attention to the needs of my bike. Now with money not being a problem, he would go all out to doing up a fresh reliable motor for the scooter.
It was a cab ride south to Lauderdale that afternoon to meet with Bruce’s father. After bringing the boat north, I didn’t want to have to go back for a car. Although I had known Pat for many years, I only let him in on a part of what was actually going on. He knew that some guy was hiring Tom and me to find his son who might be being held against his will by some people in the Bahamas. When we pulled up in front of the house I suggested that Pat go around back and check out the boat.
Bruce’s father answered the door and looked pleased to see me. He was eager to explain all that he had arranged in preparation for the venture. He had all the necessary paperwork for the boat along with papers that gave Tom and me the right to have the boat in our possession. I then gave him our birth certificates along with the passport photos we had taken the day before.
He motioned for me to follow him towards the other end of the house where we entered a small room. In the room there were a number of boxes stacked on a table. As I suspected each contained various assortments of weaponry that we might need in our efforts in the islands.
Adventures In A Pair-A-Dice Page 5