Real rib ticklers, these sharks.
The faint, seaweedy smell continued to ooze off the dark water, drifting in the window, making me feel slightly ill.
When Wren played coy at leaving the game, I made a scene, pretending to get in a drunken huff and stalked off to the bar.
Weaving a little as I walked, for effect, I could hear Wren murmur some gracious, bubble-headed words, giving a whole spiel of effusive apologies for her disgruntled husband whom she felt compelled to nursemaid from his griefs—the big sullen, drunken baby—while promising to return to the game asap. TK edged slowly toward the other games in progress closer to the exit.
Good girl, cash out your chips, hit the ladies’ room, then make a beeline to the back door while those sods await your return.
Drink in hand, I pushed through the double doors and hit the deck, glad of the fresh air. The sky was dark, starless; the air cool and musky. The shots of the local spirits, clouds of nicotine and the bebop beat had started to eat away at my skull.
I counted the moments, listening to the laughter and the revelry and disco beats carry on across the water from the other boats. Wren came out, her cheeks flushed.
“You got the yols?” I grunted.
“Nice job, Rusco. Seems your scheme worked.”
“Where?”
“Right here.” She tapped the inside of her thigh where she had taped it.
“Peachy.”
A good act, but maybe not good enough. The door flapped opened.
Elmer tripped over with a grim smile. “Hey, girlie, game’s still rolling. Well, what’s this? Hubby and dollface taking a little timeout by the water? Charming.” Elmer, with a smile that’d kill a grouper, slapped an arm around my shoulder.
“Just came out for some fresh air, Elmer. Be back in in a sec when I get my second wind.”
“Don’t rush. You don’t look so good, Hamber.”
“Think I ate some bad fish.”
His head bobbed as he smiled. “You know what, I think you guys are a bunch of shamsters. Funny how I take a dislike to scammers, on account that I live here. Own a legitimate business, have some genuine friends. Makes me and my chums look bad. All the stories you jokers’d tell of how you conned a couple of the local fish.” He laughed and TK took the unfortunate moment to breeze out of the swinging doors and give a gasping breath. Catching wind of the little gathering, he turned to hustle back in.
“Wait up, gramps.” Elmer snapped his fingers. A couple of his thugs, all murder and glares, intercepted and pushed TK back to the rail in our direction. Elmer moved over to TK and threw an arm over his shoulder, as he had done to me. “I like you, gramps. Very slick of you in there, giving signals like that as if you were swatting away flies. Nice gig. These two I don’t like, especially Hammy here with all his glib talk.” His boot shot out and kicked me in the bad knee, as if he’d known it was my weak spot. I went down, crouching in agony. “Smarts, doesn’t it, Hammy?” He laughed. “Suck it up, you pussy. Doesn’t look good in front of the missus.” He grabbed Wren by the hair and pulled her down to his crotch with his other hand rubbing his knuckles hard across her wig. The piece dropped off to show her skin head.
“My, my, surprises by the minute. Didn’t know you went in for baldies, Hammy.”
I was groaning, cursing myself for my stupidity. Fucker’d taken me by surprise. Innocent old uncle Elmer, a thug who’d whack you with a tire iron before you could blink and you’d still be wondering what hit you.
“Don’t want no trouble here,” TK stammered, looking as if he’d seen a ghost and was going to piss his pants.
“Oh, no trouble, gramps, just a small misunderstanding. See, we’re going to go back into the gambling house and continue our game. We’ll let you join for free.”
I got to my feet, swaying, pretending a show of drunken bravado, as Wren struggled in Elmer’s grip and I took a half-assed swing at Grease Hair to his side, making it easy for him to block. He gave a clown’s laugh and pushed me into his henchmen while I flailed away like a jackass. He thought I was an easy takedown and grabbed the cuff of my sportman’s jacket. Mistake #1. Never leave yourself open to attack, against even the dorkiest, most ham-handed drunk. One small tap on the throat or other sensitive area and the stars are spinning in your head. Then up comes the knee into the nose, pushing back the bone and cartilage into the brain. Then it’s lights out…which is exactly what happened. One step inside the left leg and I was all over Lemmy with a chop to the neck for added measure.
I heaved the limp body over the rail, wincing at the splashing and flapping going on as something large and gurgling did their work. Elmer grimaced and licked his chops. Luckily the music was loud, or there’d be more fuss. But scattered couples were coming out to catch the next houseboat and watch the free show. I like putting on a show as much as the next wiseass, but all facts considered, things were not looking too good for us. We were in poor disguise and on a foreign world. Anything could escalate into bloodshed.
Wren gurgled out a throaty cry and kicked Elmer in the groin while I sprang to toe-tangle with the other fellow. She dropped to grab her concealed gun taped on the inside of her black-skirted thigh as TK pushed through the gathering crowd to get to the boarding dock. Wise and heroic
