The Feet of God

127 - NOT BUYING IT

“Why was there a Big Bang at all?” Crespo asked, seemingly in a world by himself.  “Shouldn’t the original singularity have been the Mother of All Black Holes?”

“Could be.”

“Or maybe it was something different?  A White Hole?  The amalgamation of all the black holes in the universe, with an opposite and equal reaction?  Hence, a ripping outwards instead of incredible contraction?  A cosmic irruption.  A reboot of time itself?”

“Sounds plausible.”

Crespo snapped his fingers.  “Who knows?  And why the hell should we care?  As if we count for anything.”

“That’s the truth.”

“I prefer to find my own solace on the sea.  One port or another, any port in the storm.  Faraway places teeming with opportunities, always following fortune on the way.”

“I guess a feller like you has seen some sights, huh?”

“From Tanzania to Partridge Square.”

“Is that a fact?”

“I have sailed the seven seas to the farthest our corners of the seven continents, and then some.”

“Must be nice.  How do you afford it?”

“I keep accounts in the Cayman Islands, Panama and Switzerland for business purposes.”

They always say, never bullshit a bullshitter.  I was beginning to disbelieve Crespo.  I mean, he never betrayed any sources of income except, perhaps, from certain mysterious gains from possible illegal transactions.  And, honestly, how come he had so many fucking weapons on board?  There’s only so much one man can fire off at a time.  This didn’t pass the smell test.  I figured his high seas adventures was mostly bunk and a smuggler’s cover story.  I’m thinking, he’s running guns.  Maybe more’n that.

“But my personal finances are a private affair,” his red eyes burned.  “It’s so trivial, and so mundane.  Money’s only a way of keeping score, as they say.  A bad way of keeping score at that.”

Crespo went on and on with more swashbucklin’ tales of explorations for Atlantis, sailing the Bermuda Triangle and the Sargasso Sea, rounding the Cape of Good Hope and Tierra del Fuego.  I know from experience you can learn more from a liar by what he doesn’t say, and Crespo wasn’t saying nothin’.

I had to take stock of my situation.  I was alone on a boat with a heavily armed dude who might be a raving lunatic.

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