“Oh, don’t be so gloomy. Come on down and we’ll celebrate.”
“Celebrate what?”
“I’m getting married.”
“Why?”
“Because of the baby.”
“No kidding, you’re going to have a real baby?”
She didn’t like the question. “Of course it’s real, dummy. And I’m sailing to Ensenada on my honeymoon. You can come along if you want to.”
“Sure I want to. A lot of good that does. You know how they watch me around this joint, like I was public enemy numero uno.”
“Dream up something. Like the laundry truck. Remember when you stole the laundry truck?”
“I got caught.”
“That was just bad luck, hitting the tree,” Cleo said. “Why don’t you try again?”
“I’ll think about it.”
He didn’t have to think about it very long. That was the morning Aragon left his car keys in the ignition.
The party had all the elements of success, beginning with the people: Manny Ocho and the crewmen about to visit their families for the first time in weeks, Cleo ready for her honeymoon, Donny, who’d finally escaped from Holbrook Hall and didn’t intend to go back — “If dear old dad shows up we’ll throw him overboard” — and a footloose young man who’d been kicked out of his house. In addition, the Spindrift carried plenty of booze, and one of the crewmen, Velasco, had purchased a quantity of hashish from a lower State Street bar, using money he had collected from the others on board.
The party began with lunch: guacamole prepared by Velasco and served with corn chips, and beluga caviar which Whitfield kept in a supposedly foolproof safe. None of them actually liked caviar but it had such an impressive price they felt duty bound to eat it. Cleo tried to pretend it was black tapioca but Velasco kept talking about “feesh eggs. Nearly three hundred dollars a pound for feesh eggs,” and Ted sang a song about virgin sturgeon needing no urging. Ocho sprinkled his share with Tabasco sauce and rolled it up in a tortilla.
When the others had finished eating, Donny scooped up everything that was left on their plates and piled it on his own — guacamole, corn chips, caviar — until it looked like a heap of dog vomit. Eventually he had to go on deck to throw up. Cleo went with him, and being very suggestible, she threw up, too.
Then she and Donny sat side by side in the bow, watching the gulls quarreling and listening to the music coming from the cabin, Velasco playing the harmonica and Ted singing dirty fraternity songs. Cleo couldn’t make out the words of all the songs because the cabin was tightly closed to prevent the odor of hashish from reaching the wrong noses. Donny was sweating so much his hair was wet and water rolled down from his forehead onto his cheeks like tears.
“Your face is very red,” Cleo said.
“What do I care? I can’t see it.”
“Is my face red?”
“I dunno. I can’t see that either.”
This was such a hilarious joke that Donny doubled up with laughter. Cleo wasn’t amused. Throwing up had made her feel quite sober.
“Donny,” she said. “Do you ever have foggy moments?”
“Foggy? Naw. I get flashes, great big bright white flashes. I see things never been seen before. It’s a blast, man.”
“Why do you call me man?”
“It’s just an expression. Besides, you got no boobs.”
“I’m going to grow some when the baby comes.”
“Naw. You’re built like a man.”
“Oh, I am not. Look.”
Cleo took off her T-shirt.
“Pimples,” Donny said. “Just a couple of pimples.”
“Roger liked them.”
“He would. He’s gay, stupid.” Donny looked at her sharply. “Don’t tell me you ever made it with that creep.”
“Practically. We were even supposed to be married, but suddenly it wasn’t such a good idea. I’m going to marry Ted instead.”
“When?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t told him yet.”
“Oh, wow. You really are a kook. I thought you were related to him.”
“We’re only sort of related. Anyway, he was away at school most of the time and I was at home so we hardly knew each other so we’re practically strangers. He’s the father.”
“Father?”
“Of my baby.” She giggled. “Me and Ted, we made it, right down the hall from where Hilton was sleeping. Only it turned out he wasn’t sleeping. He came charging in and made a horrible fuss.”
Donny threw up again over the railing. This seemed to give him extra insight into the situation. “You can’t have the kid. There’s no such thing as being sort of related. If you and Ted are related, the kid will be even more half-witted than you are.”
“I’m not half-witted,” Cleo said obstinately. “And I also got boobs.”
“You should have an abortion.”
“Well, I won’t, so there.”
“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Wait’ll the kid comes out with two heads and one leg... Oh, for Christ’s sake, don’t start crying. I’m just trying to get you to face facts. If Ted doesn’t want to marry you he won’t, and you can’t force him.” Donny had one of his bright white flashes. “Unless he’s stoned. That’s it. We can get him stoned and drag him to a preacher.”
“We don’t need a preacher,” Cleo said. “I saw this television movie where as soon as the boat left the dock the captain began marrying two people.”
“My old man wouldn’t go for that. He’s against marriage.”
“Then how about Manny? Or you?”
“Me?” The idea had instant appeal to Donny but he refused at first to admit it. “I couldn’t do that. I’m not the captain.”
“You’re the owner’s son, you could just make yourself the captain. You could proclaim it. You got rights, Donny. As soon as the boat leaves the dock you can say, ‘I proclaim myself captain.’”
“‘I proclaim myself captain.’ Hey, I like that.” Donny stood up straight and assumed a Napoleonic pose. “I proclaim myself captain.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” Cleo said.
The party ended early, with everyone going to bed wherever they lost consciousness. Festivities were resumed the following morning when Ted and Velasco went ashore for fresh supplies. They didn’t bother with caviar or more avocados for guacamole; they went directly to the bar on lower State Street where Velasco had purchased the hashish. It was closed, so they made a buy from a man standing outside a pawnshop and then returned to the boat.
Throughout the day Cleo tried to persuade Manny Ocho to cast off without waiting for the arrival of Donny’s father. Ocho, who despised Whitfield, would have liked to oblige, but he had too strong a sense of survival. Jobs like his didn’t come along very often. Rich men were getting stingier, learning to skipper their own craft and picking up unpaid crews here and there, mostly teenagers and restless young men like Ted who wanted travel and adventure more than wages.
That night Ocho had a telephone call from Palm Springs. Whitfield said he would drive up the next morning, check in at his condo for an hour or so, then come aboard ready to sail.
Ocho broke the news to the others that this was to be the last night of the party. They cheered themselves up by opening a case of Johnny Walker and starting a series of toasts: to the Presidents of the United States and Mexico, the Los Angeles Dodgers, the man who invented scotch, and the Spindrift, “the greatest ketch ever caught.” This was Ted’s contribution.
“When you catch a ketch,” he said. “The ketch is caught.”
Donny laughed, but neither Cleo nor the three Mexicans understood the pun, even when Ted repeated it with emphasis and gestures.