CHAPTER THIRTY: Sail On, Sailor
A cool breeze pushed Sweet Shanice across Lake Michigan. The twenty-eight foot catamaran held the relaxed crew of Barry, Sammy, Roshondi, and Nick. As he stared across the wavy water, Nick started thinking about the days his grandmother would take him to Holly Beach on the Gulf Coast of Louisiana. It wasn’t much of a beach, but it did offer a grand view of the Gulf of Mexico. He would always get a serene sense of being when he gazed over the open waters.
“What you thinking about, son?” asked Barry.
“Nothing in particular,” replied Nick. “I’m just admiring the scenery.”
“I bet he’s thinking about pussy,” said Sammy.
“You got that wrong, needle dick,” said Barry. “That’s all you think about.”
“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that,” said Sammy.
“Yeah, but at your age, all you can do is think about it,” Barry joked.
“Father-in-law,” Roshondi said, “I do not understand why you must insult your friend like that.”
“He knows I’m just joshing him, Roshondi. You need to learn to lighten up.”
“I’m still trying to learn all of your American customs. They seem rather peculiar.”
“And I suppose dressing up in grass skirts with a mask on, and dancing around a fire isn’t strange,” added Sammy.
“I suppose you are right. I guess that would seem rather strange to you,” said Roshondi. He would perform his ancestral dance at home while Barry would watch with amazement and embarrassment.
“Do you really do that?” asked Nick.
“Yes. In my mother country, it is a sacred ritual.”
“What’s the purpose?” asked Nick.
“It is to keep Satan away.”
Nick was interested. “Does it work?”
“Why, of course it does. The evil one does not make his presence known to me,” Roshondi boasted.
“Can you show it to me?” Nick could use anything that acted as a Satan repellant.
“Right here?”
“Yeah.”
“Hell, no,” replied Barry. “Nobody is going to do the mojo dance on my boat. I don’t believe in that stuff.”
“What about your gift?” asked Sammy.
“First Shanice, now you, you old buzzard. I don’t want to hear no more about that stupid gift,” said Barry, as he stood up to get another beer. “Anybody need another?”
“What actually is the gift?” asked Nick.
“No. We ain’t talking about it. Who wants a another beer, dammit?”
“It has been in his family for many generations,” said Roshondi. “Shanice told me about it when we met. She said I was the man she was going to marry the moment we met. She was correct.”
“That don’t mean a damn thing,” said Barry. “Shanice is a beautiful lady. Ain’t no man going to say no to her.” He started tossing beers.
“I can vouch for that,” said Nick, as he grabbed the precious brew out of midair. “Your daughter is gorgeous.”
“I think I am supposed to be jealous from that remark,” said Roshondi. He reached up and grabbed the flying can without looking at it. “According to your American custom, is this the time where I must beat you senseless for making comments about my wife?”
“Ain’t nobody gonna fight on my boat,” said Barry. He threw a can towards Sammy.
“You know what’s going to happen to me, don’t you Barry?” asked Nick.
“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.”
“Give the boy a break,” said Sammy, as he watched the can fly by him and splash in the lake. “Give him a hint of what’s up ahead for him – and learn how to toss a damn beer.”
“No, damn it. I said I don’t want to tell him – and learn how to catch, you blind old jack-ass.”
“It must be bad, then,” said Nick.
“No, it ain’t bad at all,” said Barry.
“So you do know,” said Nick. “What is it?”
“I know I’m gonna kick your ass if you keep bugging me about this.”
“Come on, Barry. I need to know what’s up for me.”
“Are you going back to Louisiana tomorrow?”
“Yeah, why?”
“All I can say is you’re gonna find the answer down there.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“That’s all I can tell you. Now, shut up and drink your beer. I’m tired of all this gift nonsense.”
“It is a good thing, Father-in-law,” said Roshondi. “You should be proud.”
“Well, I don’t like it – and quit calling me Father-in-law.” He tossed another beer to Sammy.
“What is it you would like me to address you with?”
“How about old fart?” said Sammy, as the beer can flew over his head.
“How about Dad?” added Nick.
Barry stared at Roshondi for a few seconds. “Father-in law will be fine.”
The afternoon sun was beating down on the video site in New Lake City. Benny was enjoying his role as director. He had Julie getting the band so worked up, he couldn’t tell if the sweat they showed was from the heat, or Julie. When he noticed three o’clock rolling around, he stopped the filming.
“Okay, everybody. We have to get to the church. The funeral starts in thirty minutes,” he commanded.
Jamie was standing next to him – also sweating from Julie’s performance.
“Do you plan to film the funeral?” she asked.
“Of course,” replied Benny. “We’ll have the whole band being the pall bearers, then have the procession pass right in front of the lake, while we have the band looking on from these shots I just filmed.”
“What does Zipper Down’s funeral have to do with the song Love Blender?”
“Absolutely nothing. I’m just using the publicity from it to promote the song. I’ll use the scene as sort of a passing, and introduce Pizza Guy as the one taking his place. The whole Love Blender thing will just be a mixed-up collage of scenes. It’ll be a quick history of the band mingled with sexual overtones to say to the world –Here they are – The Cramping Violets.”
“That’s brilliant, Benny,” said Jamie. “When will the song be released?”
“I had it released this morning. All the rock stations in the country should have it in their rotations by this afternoon. I exhausted all my connections in the business, but I think it’ll work.”
“Great job. Let’s hope it works. We’ve got a lot riding on this project.” Jamie was glad Benny was taking control of the project.
“By the way, have you seen Nick? I thought he’d surely be here to watch the filming.” Benny was sure this was something Nick would love to see.
“Don’t you remember? I sent Nick away on a project.”
“That’s right. It’s just weird for him not to be here for something like this. Do you know when he’ll be back?” he asked.
“Not really, but don’t worry about it. You’re doing a fine job here. Just keep it up.”
“Thanks. Are you going to the funeral?”
“No. I have to get back to the office.”
“Okay.” He turned to Julie. “Hey, Julie. You can ride with me.”
Julie had just changed into her funeral dress. It was a skimpy black mini, which left nothing to the imagination. She smiled as she walked past Jamie. Jamie felt her knees buckle.
Debbie was at the corner of the bar, drinking Crown & Seven. Marlena walked in to collect her paycheck and noticed her.
“What are you doing back here so early in the afternoon?” asked Marlena.
“I was just fired,” sobbed Debbie.
“You’re kidding? By that child molester boss of yours?”
“One and the same.”
“You can’t let him get away with this.” Marlena had no sympathy for men with underage girls. She had been taken advantaged of by an older man when she was sixteen. Now that she was older and wiser – she was the one taking advantage of older men.
“Don’t worry
, I won’t,” said Debbie.
“Well, look. Getting plastered in the middle of the afternoon isn’t any way to deal with this. I’m leaving tomorrow for Key West for the weekend. My cousin’s getting married and Jim was supposed to come with me for the weekend. I’m stuck with his plane ticket. Why don’t you come with me? I’m sure I can exchange his ticket and get you on the flight. It’ll do you some good to get away for a few days.”
“That’s not a bad idea. I have a rehearsal tonight, but we have the weekend off. Thanks, Marlena.” Debbie was ready to get away for a little while.
“You’re more than welcome. I think you really need it. It’ll put a little distance between you, Tony and that pervert you work for.”
“Used to work for,” corrected Debbie.
It was smooth sailing for Barry’s boat, even with an intoxicated crew on board. They started talking about past experiences with women. Nick gave a short version of his Jamie ordeal to the guys.
“That’s a pretty screwed-up story, boy,” said Sammy. “But you know what they say – It’s better to have loved and lost than not to get any pussy at all.”
“You old buzzard, that’s not how it goes,” said Barry. “And besides, he didn’t get any pussy from her. She was a lesbian.” He tossed yet another beer to Sammy.
“What exactly is a lesbian?” asked Roshondi.
“It’s a woman who just likes other women,” said Nick.
“Why would a woman not like the love of a man?” asked a confused Roshondi.
“Have you taken a look at yourself,” said Sammy. “You lucky any woman would have you, much less someone fine as Shanice.”
“Should I be offended?” asked Roshondi. “That sounds like it may be an insulin.”
“Insult,” Nick corrected. “No, Roshondi. You see - lesbians can still love men. They just aren’t attracted to men in a sexual manner.”
“So they do not like sex?” asked Roshondi.
“Yea, they do. Just not with men,” said Nick. Why is this conversation sounding familiar? He thought.
“So who do they have sex with?” Roshondi asked.
“Let me break this one to him, Nick,” said Sammy, who popped the top of a beer can he finally caught. “They have sex with other women.”
Nick was worried that Roshondi would react the same way he did with the Jamie revelation. He was surprised at Roshondi’s reaction.
“Oooh,” said Roshondi with a huge grin. “Nice. I think I like lesbians.”
“Hold on, boy,” said Barry. “You’re my daughter’s husband. Don’t you be getting any ideas.”
“While we’re on that subject – there are also gay men,” said Nick.
“Are they the ones who are lucky enough to be with lesbians?” asked Roshondi.
“Because that would make me happy and gay.”
“No, not happy gay, just gay,” explained Nick.
“So what is a gay man like?’ asked Roshondi.
“Pel-tire.” The sudden sound was heard over a bullhorn. “I need to talk to you right now.”
They looked off in the distance and saw a little eight-foot bass boat piloted by Gerome Elderberry. He was bobbing in the waves of Lake Michigan like a little toy boat in child’s bathtub.
“Who in the hell is that?” asked Barry.
“I don’t believe this,” said Nick. “How did that little prick find me here?”
“Don’t you move any further. You’re wanted for questioning in the death of Zipper Down.” His voice sounded more girlish as he tried to shout.
“Would that be an example of a gay man?” asked Roshondi.
“He’s about as flaming as they come,” said Nick.
“Is he a cop?” asked Barry.
“Yeah. He’s some kind of detective in New Lake City.”
“What’s he doing here?” asked Sammy.
“I don’t know. I think he has some crazy idea that I know something about Zipper Down’s death.”
“Do you?” Barry asked.
“Of course not,” yelled Nick.
“You want to lose him?” It was clear that Barry was on Nick’s side.
“Please,” Nick pleaded.
“No problem,” said Barry. He fired up the engine and maneuvered the boat along side of a fifty-foot yacht. The yacht made a sharp turn and was between Barry and Elderberry’s boats. The waves caught Gerome by surprise as he tipped over. They could here him crying.
“Pel-tire, you goddamn bastard. I’ll get you for this.”
Nick saw him bobbing in the lake wearing a life jacket. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“How did he track you out here?” asked Barry.
“He’s good, but he’s way off base. I don’t know why he isn’t back home trying to solve this case,” said Nick.
“He doesn’t look as if he is on fire,” said Roshondi.
“What the hell are you talking about?” asked Sammy. “Nick just said he was flaming.”
Jamie was on the phone in her office. “Hi, this is O’Malley – Yes, it’s going as planned. Myers is handling the situation beautifully – Elderberry? He’s nowhere close. I’m sure Nick will keep his hands full – Yes, Verona seems concerned – Yes, sir – Thank you.” She hung up the phone and turned on the radio. Love Blender was blaring out over the airwaves.
The Devil's in My Bathroom Page 31