“I had to do that—”
She gave him a deathly glare.
“Don’t you say you had to do that. Do not say that. Acting like playground children when what you should have done was walk away. I don’t understand people. I really do not understand them. I have driven through storms, terrible seas, but it’s nothing compared with boys who have to prove themselves. I don’t understand – I really don’t.”
“After what that slick-haired guido said to you—”
“What the boy said to me, I heard fifty times before. Every time the ship arrives to unload, everybody knows it’s a zoo. Everybody knows they come down and think they can do anything. Everybody knows when that boat’s there you either got to stay away or take it, play the dumb island fool, laugh it off, pretend it doesn’t matter. But you’re living here, Edward, and you should be have figured that out by now.”
Edward tried to sit straight, but with the boats jumping and the pain running through him like an electric shock, he found it more comfortable to lean to the side.
“Mary… it’s important. I gotta have that meat for the owner—”
Mary killed throttle. The boat smacked into the next wave and Edward threw up a hand to avoid hitting the dashboard. As he did this, a bolt of pain sparking from inside his ribcage shot down his arm. From where they were, both Tortola and Peter Island were nothing more than a string of lights. The boat rocked on the dark surface under a spray of stars that made him feel they were hanging upside down over the world.
“If it was important, why didn’t you act like it was important? Do you want me to take you back? Do you? I’ll drop you off. But know this. I will not be waitin. You can return on the first morning ferry, because I’m going home.”
“Mary.”
She kept her head straight ahead, her hand on the throttle. The breeze had splayed her hair over her shoulders and lights from the control panel illuminating her face made her look older and wicked.
“Baby—”
“Do you want me to drop you off?”
“No, of course not, I have to prep the house—”
“Then I’ll take you home.”
It took twenty minutes for them to reach his pier. Mary stopped the boat and didn’t move from her seat. He wiped something from his brow and examined his hand, waiting for her to talk. After a minute, he gave up and carefully climbed up the ladder, grunting through the pain.
“Mary, I gotta barbecue something tomorrow. I’m in big trouble. I know I messed up, but I’ll get fired if the owners complain.”
He leaned on the nearest pylon, using it as a crutch. She ignored him and started driving away. Soon the darkness of the inlet island’s profile enveloped her boat.
~~20~~
The puffy skin around his eye had the color and texture of crushed grapes. He couldn’t feel the touch of his finger. The deadened flesh might have been a piece of latex padding glued over his skin for a disguise. He counted six major wounds during the examination of his naked body. Bruises on his ribs and left thigh, a sprained elbow, two sore fingers that might have been stepped on, and of course the most obvious one, his red, blue, pulverized eye. His ugly eye would be plainly visible to Mr. and Mrs. Murrell and their two impressionable little boys when Edward greeted them.
“The plane! The plane! Yes, Tattoo. We must welcome our guests. Welcome to Masochist Island,” he said to his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He forced his brow up to make it look less grotesque. As soon as he let go, one side fell, covering half the eye. “Well, hello, sir. Welcome back. Yes, sir, I did get into a fight. No, sir, I don’t have the steaks you requested. They’re at the club where I got in the aforementioned fight. Yes, sir, I am packed and ready to leave my job because I’m an idiot.”
It was already eleven when he finally got out of bed. He took two aspirin and threw on his shorts. The roll of weed that Mr. Bones had given him was in the kitchen trash. He knew how Mary would react if she found it.
Starting on the main house was torture. He swept, dusted, and put out fresh towels in the bathrooms, whimpering as he bent and extended himself. One of the tubs had developed a case of thick black mold that spread around the inside like meteor rings orbiting a planet. He had to scrub it clean, groaning and moaning with the pain in his elbow, trying to rely on his good arm for most of the work. At one o’clock, he surveyed his fridge. Chicken. He had frozen chicken.
“Yes, sir, I know your steaks taste like chicken, but doesn’t everything taste like chicken. Yes, sir, I know I’m fired. Shall I wait for a taxi boat or just start swimming back now?”
Bending down to pick up his cleaning supplies sent an electrical discharge of pain through his ribs. He pushed down on his hip to stand like a pregnant woman. When the phone in his house rang, he hobbled over the sand and into the kitchen to grab it. It was Ms Sarah’s assistant calling to tell him that the family would be late, arriving at three o’clock. He hung up, closed his eyes, and thanked God.
Stiffly Edward dragged himself into the bedroom, lay down on his bed and tried to nap, but the throbbing pain in his eye and ribs – along with worries about finding something to serve for dinner – kept him awake. Run to the village, buy whatever the restaurant has, he thought while staring up at the ceiling. Do it now! Get up! Start running! But his body wouldn’t respond. Get your ass up now! Then he heard the distant buzz of a motor drifting in over the breeze. When it grew louder, he got up and limped to the door.
His eyes grew as he watched Mary’s boat approaching. When he was sure she’d tie-up, he hobbled across the beach. By the time he stepped onto the pier, Mary was putting her bucket and a plastic bag on the pier. She pulled herself up the ladder and with her head tilted and eyes glaring, watched him stagger over.
“You look like a dog that got hit by a truck.”
“Well. I feel like one.”
Mary huffed and shook her head.
“Your eye looks terrible – worse than last night.”
She reached up to touch the swollen skin. Edward flinched away, sucking in air through his teeth.
“Baby, I’m glad you came by, but I need to finish up. Gotta get something for dinner.”
“I figured as much.” Mary turned and picked up her bucket and bag. “Will a crab boil do? I brought crab, corn, potatoes, seasoning… lemons.” She looked around inside her plastic bag. “Louisiana sausage… onion. Seasoning’s Cajun, but not spicy, so children can eat it.”
“Baby…” he started, wanting to ask her why she had come back. But he stopped himself. He’d seen her like this before. He dared not interrogate her. “Did I mention that you’re the best?”
Mary spent half an hour in the main house’s kitchen preparing vegetables, Edward cut a few fresh flowers, birds of paradise stems, pink and white bougainvillea and fiery red Amaryllis, to set up in vases throughout the house. After he completed that, he joined her in the kitchen, fretting about his black eye, and the trouble he might be in. He was sure Mr. Murrell would complain to Ms Sarah. When they had finished with the food preparations, Mary did another examination of his ugly eye and then left, saying she’d be right back. She returned almost an hour later, about thirty minutes before the Murrells were due to arrive. She brought a shopping bag filled with clothes and accessories. She dumped the bag onto his bed.
“Last year’s Halloween costume.” Mary bit her lip. “Actually, they are every year’s Halloween costume. Whenever a BVI hotel needs to hire extra waiters for a party, it’s always the same theme.”
~~~
Mr. and Mrs. Murrell and their two boys, a seven and a nine-year-old, stepped off the taxi boat and were greeted by pirates. The family of four looked ready for a day in the sun, wearing shorts, sunglasses and cotton shirts. They carried only light luggage, beach bags and two small roller cases. But they were rich, Edward thought, if they needed anything, they could just buy it.