One Eye Open

I hear the gulls crying, fighting over some piece of food they picked off of the warm cement. The sun is hot on my face. With one eye creaked open I try to focus. Guessing one's location after a night of revelry is becoming a frequent thing with me. Right now I haven't a clue.

"Jesus... who the hell are you?"

It's Lou's voice, not startled... not polite either. I lift my head and turn to see that I am on a patio. This has to be one of the bungalos in front of Dominican's. The beach yacht harbor is visibile through the trees.

Inside there is a woman in business garb, probably another lawyer, directing some of the hotel staff to pack our meager belongings. In bed with Lou are two of the young college sweeties we had on our laps. They don't stir at the interruption. I see Lou shake one of them, the one with the tattoo on her yabo. She turns and draws the sheet up on her tanned body. Lou palms her ass for a moment, then gives it a little slap.
"Now that was fun... eh?"

I smile back at him, still waiting for damage reports to come in from my head, back, or anything else that might have gotten a work out last night in the grips of the Muerte.
"Fun for you. What happened to me? Did I pass out in this chair?"

Lou swings both legs out of the bed and plants them on the floor in all of his splendor. The lady lawyer doesn't seem to mind, neither do the hotel staff, just me I guess.
"Put some fucking pants on." I look at the lawyer lady, "Excuse my French."

She has a Palm Pilot in her hand and is furiously pushing buttons on the front with the little poker.
"Gentlemen, we are already off of today's schedule. I am to have you on board in the next twenty minutes and that does not give us much time to make it to the airport."

Lou rests his face in his hands for a moment. "Lady, I don't do schedules. Or lawyers. I realize that might be a disappointment to you." He laughs to himself at his attempt at humor this early in the morning. Or is it early afternoon?

"What time is it?" I ask, standing... waiting for a pounding headache that never materializes.
"It is six fifty-seven in the morning, gentlemen. Where might I find", she hits another couple of buttons, "Jerry?"


By the time she locates Jerry and we all pile into a cab we are no longer working on any schedule. As we pull through the gates at the airport I see Abigail. She is on the tarmack, hoses and wash equipment already pulled out for a good washdown some time this morning before the sun gets too hot on her skin. There are no workers milling about. They are usually eating breakfast this time of morning.

Lady Lawyer as already called the helo pilot and it is spinning... waiting for us. We step out of the cab and onto the chopper. When the door closes he takes off and we leave Puerto Barrios below us as we head out over the blue waters of el Carib.

"Where did you guys go last night?" Jerry asks rubbing his neck. When his hand comes down I see it.
"Is that a hickey?"
"Don't be ridiculous."
Lou perks up and leans over to see it as well.
"It is a hickey, Jer. What the fuck... are we still in High School? Did she want to go "steady" with you too?"
"Go fuck yourself."
"To late. Tits McGee fucked the living hell out of me last night."
"Everybody got laid but me?" I say sheepishly.
"What the fuck are you talking about, Jake. That dandy you had on your lap last night? You did everything but the Heimlich with her last night right next to me and what's her name."
"How romantic." Jerry says, shaking his head.

Then, all of a sudden we remember Lady Lawyer and the three of us straighten up and shut up.
"Excuse us, Ma'am. We are just a bunch of animals." Lou tries to sound apologetic.

"Boys, let me introduce myself. I am Angelica, Mrs. Antonelli's personal assistant. I was sent by Madam to gather you and make sure you were on board before we raise anchor."

Oh shit. The three of us dummy up like department store mannequins. Talking like that in front of this woman when we thought she was another lawyer was one thing, but this is different. She seems much sweeter now. I feel like I mooned a bus full of nuns or something.
"Hey, I'm sorry for the language, Miss. We usually have better manners."

She smiles. I don't think any of us had really looked at her face. She is absolutely beautiful.
"That's okay, boys. Just watch it in front of Mrs. Antonelli. She won't tolerate any distasteful conversation."

Silence. The awkwardness of the last minute or two keeps us from saying anything else. Lou looks a little steamed. He turns and watches the sapphire blue water pass beneath us.
"Hey... where is Chris?" Jerry looks at Angelica.
"He had the pilot take him down to down to the hospital for your friend," once again she consults the PDA, "Ollie?"

The CARIBBEAR is at anchor outside the harbor. We touch down on the foredeck and are ushered off the helo pad by white uniformed crewmen. The pursor introduces himself and takes the one duffle we have between the three of us and guides us in through the side entry into the forward salon.

"Gentleman, my name is Pierre Duschon, I am Madam Antonelli's pursor." He holds up the duffle, "Is this all of your baggage?"
"Yeah, Perry, that's all. We never got a chance to pack."
"Pierre, sir." He smiles. "Yes... well, no matter. Follow me to your staterooms."

I am beginning to become accustom to these mega-yachts and the finer things. This one is right in step with KOZANOSTRA as far as decor and the general look of things. I have to keep in mind that it was probably designed specifically for them and that is why it is so familiar.

We each have our own stateroom with queen bed and spacious bathroom facilities. Pierre tells us that there will be a ten o'clock brunch served and a briefing to follow. That until then we may rest or freshen up. There is clothing in the closets and drawers that has been provided.

"Where is the bar?" Lou asks. He can't be serious.
"I would suggest waiting for any further revelry, sir. Madam is not fond of... "
"HEY, you can tell MADAM that I ain't here to please her, okay?"

"Come on, Lou, relax."
"Nancy... you want to take orders from this guy and play dress up for Antonelli's mommy, then YOU do it. We saved the kids ass twice now. She should be kissing ours, not making demands."

I put a hand on Pierre's shoulder, "He's a little crabby in the morning. We'll be there."
"Don't tell him that shit."
Pierre smiles awkwardly and makes his exit.

"Come on, Lou, we can give her a little of our time before we start for the day. After all, we are here enjoying her hospitality."
"I thought it was Chris' hospitality we were enjoying. He is the captain of this ship."
"Well, I am sure when his mommy is on board she is like... an admiral."
"Oh... fuck it."

I feel revived after a hot shower. I wear the clothes Jerry bought for me. Only had them on last night and they are no worse for wear. The clothing in the hanging locker looks like it would be better suited for a father from Iowa on a cruise in the Virgin Islands.

After a long reaching stretch I lay down on the bed and look at the ceiling for a moment. That is the last thing I remember before I am awaken by a knock on the door.
"Jake?"
It is Chris.
"Jake... can I come in?"

I swing up off the bed and open the cabin door. Chris is standing there with two drinks in his hands. A "Soother" he calls it. Another of Agaki's recipes. He hands me the Jade green potion and tells me to drink it down. At this point I have no apprehension. Delicious... kind of a citrus/melon flavor with a bit of a fizz.

He knocks on Lou's door and when there is no answer after the third request, he opens the door. He turns to me as I stand in my doorway with the empty drink glass in my hand.
"Where's Lou?"
"Dunno. Where is the bar?"
"Oh Christ. This would have been enough for him until lunch."
"That fruit punch I just drank?"
"Herbs and extracts... Agaki created this one for my dad when my mother would come and visit. It mellows the hell out of you and you just sit and listen."

Just after he says this I feel like someone dipped me in a warm pool of water. A smile spreads over me like butter on a muffin and I draw the appropriate response from Chris.
"See... told ya."

Within five minutes we have located Lou, on the fantail of the ship with a cigar and a double whiskey in his hand like he was channeling Sinatra or something. I half expect him to break out in song. He looks at us and turns toward the rail.

"Lou." Chris nods his greeting and hands him the potion.
"What the hell is his? Fruit smoothy?"
"Drink it." I chime in. "It's worth the effort."
He downs the glass and then takes a draw off the Cohiba... chasing the smoke with some whiskey. Chris shakes his head.
"This meeting is kind of important. She's gonna be pissed if you come in there fucked up."

With a sharp look you could shave with, or behead an ox, Lou says his piece without opening his mouth.
"Lou's not too fond of meetings, Chris." I try to explain. "Or being told what to do or when to do it."
"Hey... I know that. Just play along, guys. This is really important. I want you in on this. You guys are the only ones I can trust."

We both look at him, Lou with renewed interest.
"So what is this all about? Why the mystery? You can tell us right now."
Antonelli looks around behind us. There are two crewmen going about their duties not fifteen feet away.
"This is something that has to be done in private."

After he is done with his smoke and whiskey, we follow Chris into the bowels of the ship. This meeting is not being held in the same room as the Amazon briefing. No, this room is deep down in the ship.
The light down here is dim and the vibration of the engines is more pronounced. We haven't started to move yet but the crew is preparing to get underway.

We walk through a water-tight door and into a vault-like room. The door is closed behind us and a man whom we hadn't seen in the shadows steps into the light and places himself between us and the way out. Lou regards this as a challenge and starts to turn, but Chris moves us forward. Inside this compartment is a glassed in room within the compartment. Angelica and Mrs. Antonelli are inside.

"Gentlemen." Mrs. Antonelli stands and greets us from behind a carved mahogany table. We return the courtesy as we step into the room. Once inside the door is closed and Angelica sets the electronic lock from the keypad on this side of the entrance. With a push of a button the lights go up slightly and the glass, which moments ago was trasparant, is now completely frosted. No one can see out or in.

We take our seats and Chris' mother remains standing.
"Gentlemen, I appreciate you taking this time to meet with me." She looks us each in the eye as she continues, "What we speak about in the next ten minutes is a very private matter... Top Secret." Her gaze pauses on each of us for effect. "For the secrets I am about to divulge to you people have died for, including my husband."

I'll Take Two

"Oh... you son of a bitch." Jerry allows the hand on his shoulder.
I have already thrown his arm off of me and don't know whether to hug him or hit him.

"Come on boys. You're glad to see me, admit it."
"I should have let those little Indians take you on a tree ride."
I can't help but smile. I give him a pretty hardy hug. There is no way to be mad at the deception when I am so relieved he is okay.
"Easy, Nancy, I may be walking but that poison shit still has me aching."
Good. I give him a final squeeze.

We all sit and then Antonelli and Loco come from around the corner snickering.
"You should have seen the look on your face when we drug him up those steps... like someone smacked a bunny with a tack hammer right in front of you."
Loco smiles and lets out a stoned giggle, "You very funny... I think I see you lip quiver. It a good trick on you." He starts to laugh and can't seem to stop.
"Payback is a bitch, Loco."
He laughs even harder. This boy is stoned out of his mind.

No matter how bad we were burned by the joke we don't let it ruin the moment. Words cannot relay our relief at seeing him. He seems completely recovered with the exception of aches and pains. But that is something to which we can all relate.
"Hey, where's Ollie?"

Chris takes a seat at our table. "He will be released in the morning. That spear he took in the thigh actually scored an artery pretty bad. They had to do a lot of preventive surgery so it won't tear out later."
He tells us that he has arranged for the lawyers to collect Ollie when he is released in the morning and have him taken to the ship. We are all to go there after we are done with our little reunion party so we can enjoy Chris' hospitality.
For now I predict a severe hangover sometime the day after tomorrow.

Dominican's knows the drill. Where we are sitting and several tables around us are claimed with velvet ropes and stanchions. Without anything being said the first of countless skulls of Muerte Verde appear along with pitchers of Negra Modelo. Chris makes a quick call on a cell and one of his lawyers pulls up in a hired car with a box of Cohibas fresh from Havana and a second box that he hands over reluctantly. As Chris takes it from him, the lawyer... I think it's Stinkle, shakes his head.

Antonelli hands the second box to Lou. Like a kid at Christmas Lou rubs his hands together and a wide smile breaks over his face before he opens it.
"Oh, sweet Jesus..."
Inside are dozens of Walkers, perfectly rolled as though Chris had been working at it for hours.
"Hey, I didn't get you anything."
"We'll share."

And so the night rolls on. Antonelli doesn't dismiss Stinkle and before the clock strikes eleven he is as stoned as the rest of us. Lou eats two lobsters and a stick of butter to dip them in. Even though Chris had a bite to eat on board before bringing Lou to us, he still gets a twenty four ounce Porterhouse and a tail to go with it. Loco orders some local dish that looks like seafood and rice... smells excellant.

The Muerte pours and the ritual is renewed once more. If I was foggy walking over to this place then I am in a virtual storm front by now. Luckily Jerry and I ate something before these guys showed up. The beer is cold and the Muerte Verde even colder. A local band plays in the main room. By the time the sound reaches us it is mellowed and hangs in the air like the smoke from our Walkers and Cohibas.

Girls appear on laps. I know this because there is one on mine and I don't remember her arrival. They are American girls... college girls I suppose, breaking ground for a new "spring break" destination. The noise of our conversations drown out everything around us.
Lou feeds a young red head bites of lobster. While she eats it Lou stares at her ample breasts. Actually there is a tattoo of a butterfly. She sees him examining it and pulls her entire boob out of its holder.
"Now that is what I call a tattoo."
Lou puts a hand under the "D" cup breast and holds it out for my inspection like a butcher displaying a pork roast.
"Nice likeness."

While Lou hands the girl's breast back to her, the girl in my lap... green eyes and brown hair, stands and shimmies her jeans half way down her ass. I am hungry again. On the top of her ass is a tattoo of two women's faces locked together at the lips, their bodies fading into a mist down the top of each ass cheek. My mouth drops open and my knees are weak even though I am sitting down. When she turns and displays the artwork to the rest of the table she looks at me and giggles.
I am properly aroused and she grabs it like a joystick... ironic.

"I'm glad you like it." She says to me, hiking her pants back up.
I am speechless.
"I have another, but it is for private viewing only."
"More private than the one on your ass? Pencil me in for a 3am viewing."
"You're funny."
"Oh... I am much more than that." I pull her back onto my lap and she wraps an arm around me.

Walkers pass in both directions. My beer is never empty. Muerte shots are reloaded and set down in front of us every five minutes or so. Invariably there is some sort of toast before we down each one. This means that everyone has to stop what they are doing or talking about and pay attention. Lou toasts Chris, Chris Lou, Me Lou, Lou me, Jerry Lou, Jerry me and Lou Chris, Ollie shows up in several as well. At one point Chris stands, an emotional moment as he raises first his beer and then a fresh shot of Muerte Verde to his father, Bear. We manage an appropriate period of silence in his memory. Somewhere along the line the band inside has stopped playing, probably on a break and that lends to the moment as well.

Lou, slurring greatly, toasts KOZANOSTRA, and recalls our rescue. He stops his rambling and turns to Loco, who is pretty much passed out in his dinner.
"To you my friend." Lou grabs the mop of hair on Loco's head and lifts him out of his spent dinner bowl.
"HEY."
Loco creaks open his eyes and then smiles.
"Hey... "
Lou lets him drop back into the bowl and turns to me.
"Where's Whitey?"

Chris downs his latest mug of beer and hands it to one of the girls hanging on his shoulders to fill.
"Blanco? He is out on a charter."
"A charter? What... tourists?"
"No, I hired him."

It turns out that Whitey is out with some special sonar equipment to pinpoint KOZANOSTRA's location on the bottom. He won't talk about it now, but there are several things aboard that need to be recovered... if possible. Blanco is using the old Morgan rather than the new boat he has purchased. It is less conspicious than the CARIBBEAR hovering over the site, a lower profile. There are others who will be seeking out the ship's final resting place. Chris intends to get there first.
But all of this will wait until tomorrow. Apparently we are going aboard for more than just hospitality.

A young man with a guitar hanging upside down on his back from the strap walks up behind Chris and puts a hand on his shoulder. Chris looks up at him and then back to us.
"Hey guys, I want you to meet Mike Hedges."
We all nod our greetings. Lou pours a shot from a nearly empty skull and hands it to him. He up-ends it and hands it back. Lou gestures to the guitar.
"Gonna play something for us?"
"I am. Mr. Antonelli invited me here to play for your party." He gives Antonelli a pat on the shoulder and heads toward a corner of the patio where a stool and small sound system have been set up.

"I saw this guy playing a bar in Costa Rica."
We all kind of wait for a moment or two, but when we realize he won't be playing in the next moment or two the buzz of conversation begins anew and soon we are back to our prior noise level.

When Mike starts to play, it is just background noise. He says something into the microphone and Chris waves back at him from our table. The tune sounds familiar, but the exact song eludes me. Once he starts to sing, the words instantly identify the Stones tune "Gimme Shelter".

One by one the conversations on the patio and inside Dominican's stop and we are all watching and listening to this man's rendition. It is fucking awesome. One song after the next he proves worthy of any invitation from Antonelli. Lou backhands my shoulder.
"This guy is good, huh?"
We pass the Walkers around, a few shots washed down with Negro Modelo, and listen. The next song out of the gate is Dylan's "All Along the Watchtower".

Slowly the conversations roll, gaining momentum. Whenever Hedges finishes a song, the place comes alive with applause and whistles and then he starts in on another tune.

I sit in the warm breeze on the patio, surrounded by my friends, women, good booze, good smoke, and good music. Hard to top a night like this, but I know it is possible and more than likely will be attempted if I know this group. Tomorrow we go to CARIBBEAR. I predict at least a day of recovery before we find out what is really going on.