Metro Girl

  “No. It’s not nearly that big.”

  Hooker and I went topside and looked at the boat.

  “Maybe it’s here for the fishing or snorkeling,” I said. “Maybe it’s just an innocent pleasure boat.”

  “Innocent pleasure boats don’t arrive at two in the morning and turn off all their running lights. I’m worried that someone did a flyover and picked us up and motored out here. Calflex has a bunch of smaller boats. It could be one of those.”

  “Looks to me like they’re blocking our way out. If they think Maria is on board, maybe they’ll just send a couple henchmen out in the morning. Or maybe at this very moment, the henchmen are getting into scuba gear.”

  “I really hate that idea,” Hooker said. “Especially since I gave Bill the gun. The RIB is tied up to the dive platform. Throw a couple bottles of water and some granola bars into it and get in. I’ll be right behind you.”

  I grabbed the water and granola bars and ran to the RIB. And in the dark, I crashed into the canister.

  “What the heck is this?” I said. “They didn’t take the canister!”

  Hooker came up behind me. “Shit, we were rushing to get the gold on board and forgot about this thing back here on the dive platform.”

  “What should we do with it?”

  “We’re going to have to take it with us. I don’t know what it is, and I don’t want to chance leaving it here.”

  We struggled to get the canister into the RIB, Hooker climbed in with a backpack, and we set off for the island interior. We were about fifty feet upstream when we saw the flash of a penlight on the double H deck.

  “Fuck,” Hooker said.

  That pretty much summed up my feelings, too.

  Hooker pulled the outboard up and went the rest of the way using oars. Not especially easy but quieter and safer, and we were able to get farther upstream, poling most of the way. It was so dark under the canopy I couldn’t see the hand in front of my face. When we ran aground we got out and dragged the boat above the waterline. Then we got back into the boat and searched for a comfortable position to spend the night.

  I was stumbling around, and I felt Hooker’s hand grab hold of my leg.

  “You’re like a hound dog looking for the perfect spot,” Hooker said. “Just sit down.”

  “I can’t see anything. I don’t know what I’m sitting on.”

  “You have no spirit of adventure,” Hooker said. “Take a chance.” He yanked me down and pulled me back against him. “Now you’re sitting on me. Relax.”

  “You’ve got your hand on my breast.”

  “Oh. Sorry. It’s dark. I didn’t know.”

  “You didn’t know you had your hand on my breast?”

  “Okay, so I knew. Did you like it?”

  “Good grief.”

  “I was hoping you liked it.”

  I was sitting between his legs with his arms around me and his chin against my temple.

  “I liked it,” he said. And he kissed me just in front of my ear.

  I liked it too. And I liked the kiss. And I couldn’t believe I was sitting between Hooker’s legs, feeling randy when there were scuba guys combing the Happy Hooker, looking for the gold, probably hoping they’d get to kill someone.

  “This isn’t a good time,” I told him.

  “I know. No condoms. I don’t suppose you picked up any of Bill’s?”

  “I was talking about the frogmen and the fact that they might want to kill us.”

  “I’d forgotten about the frogmen. Hell, if we’re going to die, we don’t have to worry about condoms.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Three-thirty.”

  I closed my eyes, and I was instantly asleep. When I woke up the sun was shining through tiny pinpoints in the tree cover, and Hooker’s hand was back on my breast.

  “I can’t believe this,” I said. “You’ve got your hand back on my breast.”

  “It’s not my fault. It goes there all by itself. I’m not responsible for what my hand does when I’m sleeping.”

  “You’re not sleeping. You’re wide awake.”

  “Good point.” And he fondled me. “Are you sure you don’t like it?”

  “Maybe a little, but it doesn’t matter. I need a shower. I need a toothbrush. I need to shave my legs. Omigod!”

  “What?” Hooker was on his feet, looking around. “What?”

  “There’s no bathroom.”

  He had his hand to his heart. “You scared the bejeezus out of me.”

  “I need a bathroom.”

  Hooker’s eyes strayed to the jungle.

  “No way!”

  “Don’t wander too far,” Hooker said. “It wouldn’t be good to get lost. And watch where you step.”

  “This is all my brother’s fault,” I said. “Every mess I’ve ever been in has been his fault.”

  “The three engagements?”

  “Men!” I said. And I huffed off, viciously kicking and slashing my way through the tangle of vines and bushes. I did what I had to do, and I followed the trail of smashed vegetation back to the stream.

  Hooker was sitting on the side of the boat, eating a granola bar. He looked at me and his eyes got wide and his mouth dropped open.

  “What?” I said. “All right, so I know I tinkled on my sneaker. It’s not easy doing this when you’re a girl.”

  He dropped the granola bar on the ground and reached for an oar. “Honey, I don’t want you to panic, but you’ve got something in your hair.”

  I rolled my eyes up, trying to see through my skull, and reached for the top of my head.

  “No! Don’t touch it!” Hooker said. “Don’t move. Stand perfectly still.”

  “What is it?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “What are you going to do with the oar?”

  “I’m going to flick it off.”

  “Why don’t you just use your hand?”

  “What are you, nuts? That’s the biggest fucking spider I’ve ever seen. That motherfucker is the size of a dinner plate. I don’t know how it’s even staying on your head.”

  “Spider!” And I started screaming and doing the yucky dance. “GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF!” Everything went cobwebby and I fainted.

  When I came around, Hooker was bending over me looking worried.

  “What happened?” I asked him.

  “You fainted. You were screaming and then your eyes rolled back and went over like CRASH.”

  “I never faint. You probably hit me with the oar and knocked me out.”

  “Honey bunch, if I hit you with the oar you’d still have your eyes closed.”

  “Help me up. At least I got rid of the spider.” I looked up at Hooker. “I did get rid of him, didn’t I?”

  He got me to my feet. “Yeah, you got rid of him.”

  I picked a long slim black thing off the front of my shirt. “What is this?”

  “Spider leg,” Hooker said. “You fell on him when you went down, and he’s sort of smushed all over the back of you.”

  “Not even.”

  “The good news is…he’s dead.”

  I started to cry. I know it was stupid to cry, but there it was. I’d held it back lots of times, and I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I had spider guts on me, and I was crying.

  “Listen, we can fix this,” Hooker said. “We’ll just wash you off in the stream. Most of it fell out of your hair already, anyway. Well, some of it. But, we can get the rest out. Damn, I wish you’d stop crying. I really hate when you cry.”

  Okay, get a grip, I told myself. Get out of the spider guts clothes, wade into the water, and wash your hair. Simple.

  “Here’s the plan,” I said to Hooker. “I’m going to get undressed, and you’re not going to look. Then I’m going to wash off, and you’re not going to look. And if you look, I’m going to cry.”

  “Anything! Just no more crying.”

  I walked to the edge of the stream, got undressed, and dropped t
he clothes with the spider guts attached into the water to soak. Then I waded out and dunked myself. I swished my hair around a lot, hoping that would do it in the absence of shampoo. I waded back to the bank and caught Hooker looking at me.

  “You’re really pretty,” Hooker said.

  “You’re looking!”

  “Of course, I’m looking. I’m a man. I have to look. I’d lose my union card if I didn’t look. I’d have my testicles repossessed.”

  “You promised.”

  “Promises never count when naked women are involved. Everybody knows that. If it would make you feel better, I could get naked, too.”

  “Tempting, but no. Is my hair clean? I got all the spider guts out, right?”

  Hooker looked at my hair. “Oh shit.”

  “Now what?”

  “Leeches.”

  I started crying again.

  “It’s not that bad,” Hooker said. “There are only a couple of them. Maybe three. Or four. And mostly they’re not attached. Well okay, probably they’re not real attached. Stay right there, and I’ll get a stick.”

  “A stick?”

  “To pry them off.”

  Now I was up to openmouthed sobbing.

  “Oh man, I’m sorry you’ve got leeches. I’ll pick them off. Look, I’m picking them off. Do you think you could stop crying?”

  “I don’t know why I’m crying,” I said, tears streaming down my sunburned face, sliding past my peeling nose and blistered lips. “I never cry. I’m really brave. And I’m a good sport.”

  “Sure you are,” Hooker said, flipping a leech into the bushes. “Anybody could see how brave you are.” He tossed another leech. “Yuk,” he said. “Ick.”

  “I don’t usually lose it like this. I’m always the sensible, dependable person. Okay, so I don’t like heights and I don’t like spiders, but I’m pretty good with snakes.”

  “I hate snakes. And I’m not too crazy about leeches. Oh man, this is a big one. Hold still.”

  I wiped my nose with the back of my hand. “Life sucks,” I said.

  “Life isn’t so bad. You’ll feel better about life now that the spider guts and the leeches are all gone.” He took half a step backward and his gaze wandered south. “Maybe before you get dressed I should check out the rest of you for leeches. They seem to like ah, hairy places.”

  I started shrieking and Hooker clapped a hand over my mouth.

  “Not so loud!” Hooker said. “The bad guys could still be out there.”

  I felt around and was relieved not to find any more leeches.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I got a little hysterical.”

  “Perfectly natural,” Hooker said. “Even NASCAR Guy would get hysterical if he thought he had leeches on his stick shift. You just need to relax. You know what you need? Sex.”

  “Sex? You just finished picking leeches off my head and you want to have sex?”

  “Yeah.”

  Men never cease to amaze me. I remembered reading somewhere a description of men and women in terms of boxes. The female box had a bunch of knobs and buttons and complicated instructions. And the male box had an off/on switch. That was it. Just a single switch. Hooker’s switch was always turned to on.

  “I’m not feeling really sexy right now,” I said.

  “I just thought since you were already naked it would be a good idea. This way we wouldn’t have to go through that awkward getting undressed part.”

  “Speaking of clothes…”

  “Seems like a shame to cover you up, but if that’s what you want, NASCAR Guy is here to help.” And he scooped my panties out of the boat and dangled them by one finger.

  I took the panties and the bra that followed and put them on. Hooker waded into the stream, swished my shorts and shirt around, looked them over, and threw them into the jungle. “Not gonna happen, sweetie. Trust me, you don’t want to ever wear those clothes.”

  “They’re the only clothes I have!”

  He took his shirt off and gave it to me. “Wear my shirt until we get back to the boat.”

  “Do you think we can go back to the boat?”

  “I don’t know. I’m going to walk back and take a look. Stay with the RIB. If you hear any noise at all, hide in the jungle.”

  An hour later, Hooker crashed through the brush behind me.

  “The boat is still there,” he said. “It looks like a Sea Ray. No sign of life on it. I watched the Happy Hooker for a while, and I didn’t see any activity there either, but I think chances are good that someone’s on board. It’s what I would do. I’d sit and wait. I have a hoist, so it’s obvious I have the ability to carry an inflatable. Since no one’s come upstream, I can only assume they decided to wait for Bill and Maria to return.”

  “They’re going to be disappointed when we show up.”

  “Yeah, they’re going to torture us and make us tell them where to find Bill and Maria.”

  “I’d faint but I’ve already done that.”

  “We can stay here until we starve to death, or we can go back and rat on Bill and Maria. What do you think?”

  “I think I’m tired of sitting here in my underpants.”

  We moved to get into the RIB, and we both stopped and stared at the canister.

  “We don’t want to take this with us,” Hooker said. “If there’s someone on the boat, we don’t want to chance dropping this into their hands…whatever the hell it is.”

  “Don’t expect me to help you carry it into the jungle. I’ve already done the spider-leech thing.”

  “We can drop it in the water. It’s about fifteen feet deep at the first bend. No one will find it there.”

  We got into the RIB and Hooker motored us downstream. We dropped the canister and continued on to the harbor entrance, where we sat for a half hour, watching Hooker’s boat. It was midday and the jungle was steaming. No breeze and a hundred percent humidity. The air was condensing on my forehead and running down the sides of my face, dripping off my chin.

  “Do you have air-conditioning on that boat?” I asked Hooker.

  “Yep.”

  “Take me to it.”

  We cruised over to the Happy Hooker and circled it. No sign of life.

  “Do you think the bad guys are on board, waiting for us?” I asked Hooker.

  “Yep.”

  “Do you think we could make Miami in the RIB?”

  “What’s your relationship with God?”

  “It’s shaky.”

  “Then I wouldn’t count on making Miami in the RIB.”

  “I’m feeling a little vulnerable in my underwear.”

  Hooker gave his head a shake. “I’m sorry I didn’t do a better job of protecting you. I should have been smarter.”

  “Not your fault. You were great. You picked leeches off my head with your bare hands.”

  “I almost threw up. Good thing I can drive, because I sure as hell couldn’t wrangle leeches for a living.”

  We sat off the starboard side for another ten minutes. Neither of us said anything. We were listening. Finally I got restless.

  “Let’s get on with it,” I said to Hooker. “I’m tired of waiting. Let’s tie up to the dive platform.”

  “I’m not going to tie up,” Hooker said. “Stay in the RIB and I’ll look around. You know how to work this thing if you have to, right?”

  “Yes.”

  Hooker looped the line once around to stabilize the RIB and climbed out. “If you have to take off, try to get to the mainland. It’s all I can come up with.”

  I watched him cross the deck behind the fighting chair and open the cabin door. The door partially closed behind him. I heard him yell “Barney, go!” There was a gunshot. And Hooker reeled out of the cabin and collapsed onto the deck.

  The guy with the slicked-back hair and his partner appeared in the doorway. The partner had his foot completely wrapped in a bandage. The guy with the slicked-back hair had his arm in a sling. Slick and Gimpy, I thought. They both had guns, and they didn?
??t look happy to see me. No surprise there.

  “Lucky me,” Slick said. “My favorite person. I can’t get rid of you. You’re like a bad rash. Where’s your brother?”

  NINE

  I couldn’t believe they shot Hooker. He was facedown on the deck, and he wasn’t moving. My heart was in my throat, and I was so enraged my vision was blurred.

  “Get in the cabin,” Slick said, motioning at me with his gun.

  “Listen to me, you sack of slime,” I yelled, coming out of the RIB wielding an oar. “I’ve had a really bad day. First the spider and then the leeches. My underwear’s riding up my ass, and I hate this freaking humidity. I’m not going into the cabin. The only way you’re going to get me into the cabin is to shoot me, like you shot Hooker.”

  “Lady, that’s really tempting, but I need to get some answers from you.”

  “You’re not getting any answers from me. And get off our boat.”

  Both guys blew out a sigh.

  “Get her,” Slick said to Gimpy.

  Gimpy stepped over Hooker and reached for me. I spun around and caught him square in the stomach with the oar. Thwack. And Gimpy went down to the deck with the wind knocked out of him.

  The move had been instinctual, the result of a bad engagement to a great kickboxer. Bruce Leskowitz didn’t have a lot upstairs, and his Mr. Stupid had a tendency to roam. On the plus side, Leskowitz had a fabulous body, and he brought me up to a brown belt. Who would have thought I’d ever use the moves? God works in mysterious ways.

  Slick leveled his gun at me. “Put the oar down.”

  “No.”

  “Don’t make me shoot you.”

  “Go ahead, shoot me,” I said to Slick. “If you don’t shoot me, I’m going to kick your ass.”

  Okay, I admit it. I was a little nuts. I was rolling on adrenaline and desperation. The bad guy had a gun, and I had an oar. And the truth is, even though I knew some karate, I didn’t have a lot of history behind me in the ass-kicking department. It just seemed like the thing to say. It’s what The Rock would say, right?

  Since I don’t have entirely the same presence as The Rock, Slick started laughing. It was a perfectly appropriate response, but it’s not something you want to do to a woman on the edge.

  I lunged at him with the oar, and he stepped to the side. He didn’t have a lot of room to maneuver away from me. I whirled and tagged him in the bad arm with the blade. He got off a wild shot. I shoved the oar at him, knocked him off balance, and he went sailing into space, off the side of the boat.