who gives him any shit about this is not going with us next year. And you know damn well that your lazy ass doesn’t have any other worked lined up this summer.”
McGillicuddy turned away from Gus and headed over to the rail to spit into the ocean.
“What the hell else are we supposed to do?” Worner asked. “Sell insurance?”
“That’s not my problem,” Gus replied. “All I know is that if you want to ever work on this ship again, you better leave the Captain alone.”
“Why’s he doing this?” Frank asked.
“You think he tells me?” Gus replied. “He just said, ‘Tell them we’re going home.’ I tried arguing, but he told me I’d be out for next year if I didn’t shut up, same as you guys.”
“How do we even know there’s going to be a next year?” Frank asked.
“We don’t,” Gus answered. “But I sure as hell can’t take that risk.”
“I can,” said Worner. “I’m old and I don’t give a fuck. If he wants to blackball me, I can live with that.”
“Give him hell, Worner,” Frank shouted. “If he doesn’t knock this shit off, we’ll go on strike right now. He can’t get this ship back home by himself.”
A short cheer of solidarity arose from the crew.
“Fuck a strike,” McGillicuddy said, turning back to face the crew. “How about a mutiny?”
A louder cheer arose.
“You want me to go with you?” Frank asked.
“I think I can handle it,” Worner replied.
“I wouldn’t, if I were you,” Gus warned.
“Listen, man. I’ve crawled through jungle full of cobras and landmines. I’ve had Viet Cong shooting at me from twenty feet away. That son of a bitch doesn’t scare me.”
Gus shook his head.
“Besides,” Worner continued with a grin, “my granddad’s lucky cannonball is in my bedroll. Nothing bad can happen to me while it’s on the ship.”
Worner marched to the bridge, regaining the military bearing of his Army days.
He held his head high and swung his arms purposefully from his squared shoulders. As he came within ten feet of the bridge, the door banged open, and out stepped the Captain.
He held a revolver in his hand, which he pointed at Worner’s head. Worner stopped. The crew stood silently as the two men stared at one another. Worner raised his hands and eased back a few steps. After a few moments, the Captain lowered his weapon and returned to the bridge.
There was no more talk of a strike, much less a mutiny.
8
“That bastard pulled iron on me,” Worner said as they enjoyed their last dinner together aboard the
“Do you think he was serious?” Culann asked. He didn’t have much experience with guns. Having come from a town where handguns were banned, it had been shocking to see one brandished so easily.
“He was serious,” McGillicuddy said. “I don’t know a thing about that man
except that he is always serious. Worner’s lucky to be going home in one piece.”
“Oh, balls,” Worner said. “That’s not the first gun that’s been pointed at me. I’m sure it won’t be the last.”
“Well this may be par for the course for John Wayne here,” McGillicuddy said,
“but I’d have been pissing my pants.”
“No doubt about that,” Worner said with a smile. He leaned back and scratched the long, ropy bicep of his left arm with his right hand. “You draft-dodging pussy.”
“Yep, I dodged the draft by about twenty years.”
“I’m glad you two pricks can joke about his,” Frank said. He shook his downturned head, causing his bushy beard to brush against his stained t-shirt. “I needed that money. I’m screwed.”
“Then I must be double-screwed,” Culann said, “since I’m living on your couch.”
It was more than that. This voyage was supposed to be Culann’s trial by fire, where he would emerge a better man or die trying. By cutting it short, he was losing his chance at redemption. He needed to find a new way to prove himself to himself.
“It’s that thing we fished out of the water,” McGillicuddy said. “That’s what the Captain was looking for. That’s why he called it off.”
“Makes as much sense as anything,” Frank said, “but who cares why he did it?”
“Wait a minute,” Culann said, “McGillicuddy might be on to something. We found the orb, and then the Captain sent us home within a matter of minutes. Maybe it’s just a coincidence, but we don’t have any other theories.”
“So what?” Frank replied.
“Well,” Culann continued, “assuming the theory is correct, it stands to reason that the orb is worth more to the Captain than two weeks worth of fish.”
“Who cares?”
“Well, technically I’m the one who found it.”
“You want that thing?” Frank asked.
“I didn’t before, but we have to consider the possibility that it’s valuable. Maybe we can sell it to recoup our losses. Even if we can’t, I want it just so the Captain doesn’t get to have it.”
“So what are you gonna do?” McGillicuddy asked. “Tell him ‘finders keepers’?”
“I’m going to steal it back,” Culann answered.
The thought had not occurred to him until it emerged from his mouth, but he realized this was what he had to. By stealing the orb, Culann could face danger and right an injustice. This was the quest he needed to complete. This idea pushed rational thoughts out of Culann’s mind.
“He’ll kill you, greenhorn,” Worner said.
Stealing the orb would not be easy. It was somewhere on the bridge, but Culann didn’t know where. In fact, Culann had never stepped foot on the bridge, nor had anyone else besides Gus, so he had no idea where he’d be looking. From the portholes, Culann could only see the steering wheel and some of the instruments; he didn’t know how far back the bridge went. The Captain didn’t sleep with the rest of the crew below deck or dine with them in the mess, so there had to be some kind of living accommodations connected to the bridge, but Culann didn’t have a clue what the layout might be. Plus, if the orb was as valuable as they were hoping it was, the Captain wouldn’t just leave it lying out in plain sight. To top it all off, the Captain only ever left the bridge to smoke his cigars or to point a gun at Worner.
“Give it up,” Frank said. “It can’t be done. All you’re going to do is get yourself kicked off the ship, maybe killed.”
He and Culann were the only two members of the crew still awake. Having only slept a few hours a night for the past two weeks, the others hopped into their bunks right after dinner. As angry as they were, the prospect of a good night’s sleep was too inviting.
“What about Gus?” Culann asked. “You think he could help us?”
“First off, what’s this ‘us’ shit? I don’t mind you shacking up with me up here, but I’m not getting shot for you. This is your crazy idea, and you’re going to have to go it alone.”
“Fine. Do you think Gus would help me?”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, you’re not exactly Gus’s favorite person in the world.
Besides, he needs this job. He’s got a daughter to take care of. He’s not gonna stick his dick on the line because you got some wild idea that this thing is worth money.”
“But Gus was just as mad about going home as everybody else. Maybe even more so.”
“Yeah, but mad don’t mean crazy. Let’s say you somehow manage to steal that thing. What happens when you find out it’s some worthless magician’s prop that fell off a cruise ship?”
