Deb:  I'll pay whatever the going rate is...er...what'd you say your name 
was again?  Billy?

Bully:  No, Bully.  Bully Hayes.  The Blackbird ain't a pleasure boat, girl.

Deb:  Yeah, yeah, right.  sure.  The oceans are just crawling with three
masted whatever the hell this thing is.

Bully:  A barkentine.

Deb:  Sounds like root beer.

Bully:  If it's a cruise you're wantin'...

The big man gestured down the bay and I turned in the direction he was
indicating.

Deb:  You're suggesting I should dump more money into the bottomless 
pockets of the Evil Rodent Empire?  I don't think so, Billy.

Bully:  That's Bully.

Deb:  Sorry.  I keep getting you confused with somebody else.  Look, all I
want is a rest.  I don't want to have to tangle with some ass in a Goofy
suit in the buffet line.  To be honest, I don't want to have to tangle with
a buffet line.

The big man scrubbed his hand across his bearded face.  This guy was 
absolutely to die for, purely the most completely gorgeous and dashing
specimen I had seen in a good long while, but stubborn?  Like a mule.

Bully:  I'm sorry.  I can't do it.  A woman on board would jinx her.

Deb:  Her who?

Bully:  The Blackbird.  And her crew.

Deb:  Don't tell me you still believe that trash?  A boat is female and a
woman aboard makes her jealous?  Turn off the bullshit before we both drown
in it.  I got a newsflash for ya, Popeye - the earth is round!  Tell me
the truth, why won't you take me?

Bully:  I don't want to.

I flashed my wad of money at him.  it was considerably thinner, but he 
didn't know that.  His brown eyes were locked on the cash.

Deb:  Changing your mind, Billy?

Bully:  For the last time, it's Bully.

Deb:  Whatever.  Come on, Captain Nemo, talk to me.  Is she a working boat?
Working at not leaking like a sieve?  Hell, even tramp steamers have
passenger berths.  The water's full of rent-a-yachts.  All I want is a bunk 
in a corner and some peace and quiet.

And a chance to watch you climbing the rigging and manning the wheel 
with no shirt on.

Bully:  She IS a working vessel.

Deb:  Working at being an anachronism?  It's not a shrimp boat.  It's for
sure nothing Greenpeace would use and it's not the Calypso's evil twin.
What is it?

Bully:  She?  What is she?

Deb:  She, it, Bully, Billy, who cares?  What's it do?

Bully:  The Blackbird sails under this flag.

Bully produced a classic Jolly Roger, which sent me off into gales of
helpless laughter.  Bully was playing his part to the hilt.  There was
nothing for it but to go along.

Deb:  A pirate ship?  Are you for real?  What'd you do, sail out of a black
hole?  Where's the Mouse Ears on this thing?  Come on, man!  Tommy said 
you took the role seriously but this is ridiculous!

Bully:  Damn, girl, why didn't you tell me Tommy sent you?  Come on aboard!
Let me get your things!

Bully grabbed my poor, abused duffle and led me up the Blackbird's
wooden gangplank.  He put me in a tiny but reasonably comfortable cabin 
near his, then took me out to the bridge.  Preparations were being made to
get underway.  I was the only passenger.

Deb:  What do you do with her?  The Blackbird, I mean?

Bully:  Rent her out to rich bastards who wanna play Blackbeard for a week
or two.  There's another boat in on this little scam.  We overtake her, we
board her, have a hell of a fight - gallons of fake blood - the dumbshits
usually get caught up in it to the point where we have to make sure they
don't bust any of our heads.  

Deb:  I assume there's more than one way to rob people?

Bully:  Damn straight.  Do things right and they fight to hand the money 
over.

Deb:  Tommy played you in a film?

Bully:  Yeah, dumbass plot, and he looked better than I did at the time.  
I've bulked up since then.  He's kept in touch, come out with us a time or
two.  Always a pleasure to have him aboard.  Hell of a sense of humor, once 
he opens up.  What are you runnin' from?

Deb:  What gives you the idea I'm running?

Bully:  Women on my boat generally are.  From a man.

Deb:  I'm not on the run so much as I'm trying to evade somebody.

Bully:  Aah...you're on the run.

Deb:  Whatever, Dude.

Bully was a marvellous host, I had to admit.  He showed me the radio
room deep in the bottom of the ship - state of the art communications,
navigation and radar.  The Blackbird was actually steered from this room -
the wheel on the bridgedeck was connected to nothing.  He helped me climb
to the crows nest, boosting me along with a big hand on my backside, to
show me where the GPS equipment concealed there, and how the wiring ran
down to the radio room through the mainmast.  He showed me where the air
conditioner had been hidden in my cabin.  And he stood by my cabin door for
a good hour or more talking, ill concealing other things, and watching me.
I was rather fluttery, and I wondered what he was prepared to do, but then
he received a summons to the radio room and I was able to go to bed.

Bully:  We're gonna pick us up another passenger sometime today, girl.
You'll have some company.

Deb:  I don't want any company, but what the hell, you're the boss.

I didn't need any company.  Bully was company enough.  Bully wasn't Billy
by any means, but Bully was plenty occupying all the same.  After making
this little announcement, Bully spent the day sailing us from pillar to
post, from one sorry little south of the border coastal fishing village to
the next.  We would move in close, Bully would scan the shoreline with an
honest to God spyglass, then he would put to sea again and we'd go find the
next cruddy village.  It was more than a little hit or miss, considering
the radio equipment Bully had at his disposal.

Deb:  Say, there.  Why don;t you just get on the horn to Mr. X, tell him 
where you'll be and when you'll be there and knock off all this Jamaica Inn
bullshit?

Bully:  It's more clandestine than that.  Radio signals can be traced.

Deb:  Big hairy deal.  The whole world knows where we are with that GPS...

Bully:  ...transponder, but it's been shut down.  We maintain radio silence,
we come and go like a Blackbird on the wind.

Deb:  Don't go all poetic on me, Dude.

Bully:  I read poetry to girls to seduce them.

Was he kidding?  Poetry?  With that face and that voice and that build, 
all he'd need to do would be show up.  Finally one of the crew spotted a 
Zodiac boat putting away from shore in the most recent scrofulous village
we'd approached.  in the early twilight I could barely see the boat.  After
a minute, I had no trouble hearing it.  Bully ordered the rope ladder flung 
over the rail as the Zodiac drew alongside.  I heard the sound of a very
athletic somebody swarming up that ladder.

Billy:  Permission to come aboard, Captain Hayes?

Bully:  Permission granted, Mr. Strannix.

Billy:  Bully!

Bully:  Billy!

Deb:  I'm outa here.

I headed for the rail.  I was dead serious and ready to go over the side.
Billy stopped me midway, got a tight grip on me.

Billy:  Be good, girl, and I might let ya ride the lightening later.

Deb:  Don't know if I want to.

Billy:  Don't teach your granny to suck eggs, baby.  I'll have ya beggin'
for it.

I shut up.  He would, if I kept baiting him.

Bully:  Make your course easterly, Mr. Starbuck.

Billy:  Save it, Bully.  We ain't your typical jackoffs.  Jamaica?

Bully:  Jawanna?

I made another break for the rail.

Billy:  Where's your quarters, punk?  Got somethin' t'show ya.  You'll
have to move back, though.

Deb:  You're really sick.

Bully:  You sure this's your woman?  Looks to me like all she wants t'do
is kick your ass.

Billy:  She wants every inch of me, boy.  A few inches more than others,    
but...

Coarse was one thing...

Deb:  The operant word here being few.

Billy:  Now you're screwed.  Get below, punk.

Deb:  Pooh.

I was starting to have fun with getting Billy wired up.  Before it seemed
I had done it simply as a reaction to Billy's own high handed ways - now it
was amusement for its own sake.  And of course being subdued was so much fun.
Billy hauled me below and locked the cabin door behind us.

Billy:  What'd you tell the Dawg?

Deb:  That I wasn't going to tell him anything.

Billy:  What'd he say?

Deb:  That he was going to continue to try and get me to talk.  So I left.
How'd you find out I was gone?

Billy:  Called the house, no answer.  Called the pipsqueak, said the Dawg was
lookin' for ya.  E-mailed Tom, he said he sent ya to Bully.  E-mailed Bully,
said he had ya.  E-mailed him back, said I'd bust his ass if he had, he said
no but you were here.  Asked him if he was up for a little job and told him 
I'd find him.  here I am.

Deb:  How'd you know I'd know how to reach Tom?

Billy:  Got him bookmarked on that laptop and you're a damn big snoop.

Billy leaned against the back of the bunk, pulling me with him and
draping the blankets over us both.  I was seated between his knees and
sideways, one arm around his waist and my head on his shoulder.  His hands
moved constantly over my skin.  I wanted to sit there forever and I
wanted to go to sleep and I thought it might even be okay to go ahead and
die.

Billy:  Still got that ring on, I see.

Deb:  Yup.

Billy:  And you were gonna go over the side?

Deb:  For a minute there.

Billy:  You'd've gone down like a rock.

Deb:  Maybe.  But you'd've come after me.

Billy:  Shit I would've, there's sharks in that water.

Deb:  Then Bully would've.

Billy:  Then I'd've gone after Bully.

Deb:  Why?

Billy:  Don't mess with my head, girl.  And don't wait for me to say shit.
Watch me.

Deb:  I do, Billy.  Problem is, sometimes I don't see.

Billy tipped my chin up and laid his forehead against mine.

Billy:  You keep your eyes open, punk.  I'm a hard one to miss.

Bully and Billy were both on devk when I surfaced the next day.  I
immediately went to Billy's side and drove an elbow into it to let him
know I was there.  Bully started laughing.

Bully:  You ever need a real man, girl...

Billy:  You just whistle and I'll be there.  Bully shows up, he'll get his
ass booted.

Bully:  Hah!

I smiled shyly at Bully - he was a hell of an eyeful - but I tucked
myself under Billy's arm and stayed there.

Deb:  Where are we going?

Bully:  Jamaica, girl.

Deb:  What's in Jamaica?

Billy:  Guns.

Deb:  I thought you had some.  how many do you need?  How many can you 
shoot?

Billy:  I did have some.  I sold 'em to some rinkydink south of the
border.  We'll buy some more and you'll drive 'em back.

Deb:  Whoa, wait a minute, rewind.  What?

Billy:  I said I sold 'em...

Deb:  Not that part.  I heard that.  The other bit, the part after.

Billy:  You'll drive 'em back.

Deb:  The hell I will.  My car's in Miami...

Billy:  No it ain't, baby.  Buddy of mine you ain't met, Elmore Pratt, he's
takin' it to Mexico by the back roads.  we'll load up and you can take 'em
through at Brownsville.

Deb:  They'll stop me!  They'll arrest me!  I'll look so guilty they'll
bust me!

Billy:  She's learnin', Bully.  She didn't say she wouldn't.

Deb:  I thought that was a gimme!

Billy:  Don't worry, baby.  I'll line ya up some help.  Just trust me.

This page hosted by Get your own Free Home Page