The Feet of God

122 - THE MAN BEHIND RED EYES

“Aweigh your anchor, matey.”  Crespo pulled back the canvas cover over the dinghy.  “Time to rise and shine.”

I could’a used a little more shuteye, but I knew that wasn’t gonna happen.

Tarp removed, I slowly emerged from the tiny lifeboat to confront a brand new day.  A new day with a lot of unknowns.  At least the sky was cheerful red in the morning light.

Crespo handed me a sausage McMuffin and a hash brown patty and a cup of coffee.  “Sorry if the coffee’s a little cold,” he apologized.

“I appreciate you gettin’ food on my behalf,” I smiled.  I sure wish he’d gotten a hot apple pie to go with the order, but I know, I know, beggars can’t be choosers.

I scarfed down the hash browns even before I was completely upright and properly arranged.  Once I knew I was as presentable as I’d ever be, I followed Crespo into the captain’s cabin or the bridge or wheelhouse or whatever the nautical term is, chomping down on my breakfast between sips of scalding hot coffee.

Crespo apologized for being late.  He said he had problems checking out of the Monett 4 and getting a motel shuttle here.

“No probs,” I gulped down the remains of breakfast.

Crespo nodded while he turned some dials and toggle switches by the boat’s steering wheel (if that’s what it’s called).

“How come you invited me to come along with you?” I asked.

The man with red eyes pointed, “We’re both looking for her.”  Crespo was pointing at a small statue or figurine on the dashboard.  It looked like carved stone, like some sorta ancient wood nymph or fertility symbol, with two big tits and no clothes.

“I don’t get it,” I told him.

“Circe.  Seductress, temptress, sorceress, siren.  Homer wrote in the Odyssey she was the loveliest of all immortals.  I hoped the gods might favor us for joining our efforts in finding her.”

“Her?”

“Your sister.”

“Oh.”

“We have a mutual mission, mate,” he eyed me.  “Even if our aims are divergent.”

“Divergent?”

“You’re her brother.  I’m her lover.”

“Oh, that divergent.”

“She is the pure beauty that I claim, that haunts me.”  Crespo paused and laughed.  “Plus, I could use some company on the trip, and an occasional deckhand.”

It was now well past dawn as we got underway on our uncharted voyage.  But time didn’t really matter, so who cared?  As we bid a fond farewell to Punta Gordita on the island of San Guano, I still felt some pangs of remorse about leaving my cush job behind.  And I still couldn’t escape some feelings of trepidation about this journey.

But I decided to put all such questions and worries outta my head, and focus on what laid ahead.  I was now joined in a quest to find Baby Harmonica with Crespo Laërtes.  And maybe, just maybe, we’d get lucky and actually find her.

I took a deep breath of fresh sea air and scanned the far horizon.  It was a stunningly beautiful day to be out on the water in the Florida Keys.  The gulf was blue as Windex, and the red sky was like a painting.

I asked Crespo, “So what’s the story about your boat?  It doesn’t look like any regular cabin cruiser or whatever ya call it.”

His eyes glowed.  “There’s a bit of a story there.  The Tempest was once a US Navy ship called the Orca.  It got mothballed after the Second World War.  Then it was recommissioned as the flagship for Haile Selassie.”

“Who?”

“His Imperial Majesty Haile Selassie I, Conquering Lion of the Tribe of Judah, King of Kings, Emperor of Ethiopia, Elect of God.”

“Who?”

“Selassie ruled Ethiopia.  His dynasty claimed to extend back to King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba.  Rastafarians revere him as a messiah who will lead a golden era toward eternal peace, righteousness and prosperity.”

“No foolin’?”

“Well, Selassie is long dead now, and he’s not coming back.”

“What happened to him?”

“He died, almost certainly at the hands of assassins.  There were reports his bones were found under a slab of concrete on palace grounds.  Others say his body was buried under a latrine.”

“Wow.”

Crespo turned his red stare on me.  “I picked up Selassie’s boat for a song on the international arms flea mart.  The machine gun turrets had been removed, so I picked up some AK-47’s and RPG’s from the weapons-dealers’ black market.  I keep them locked up in the hold,” he winked.  “I got the firepower down below.”

Even while Crespo was boasting about being armed to the teeth, for some reason I couldn’t take my eyes off the female artifact.  It did possess some strange kinda magical attraction, I guess.  Or in any case, it was pretty to look at.  Crespo caught me looking, and he laughed.

I asked, “Shouldn’t she it be in a museum somewhere, or in a rich guy’s mansion?  It’s gotta be worth a piece of cheese.”

“The beauty in fine artwork is always worth possessing yourself, no matter what the cost or the difficulty in procurement.”

I think Crespo was hinting it was stolen or maybe grave-robbed from somewhere.  In any case, I knew he was clearly fixed on possessing what he wanted, and the thing he wanted most was the possession of pure beauty.  Including my little sister, who, he said, “exerted an unearthly attraction.”

He revved the boat’s motor and increased its cruising speed.  “You can possess anything you want,” he laughed, “as long as you are sufficiently determined, and willing to pay the price.”

I wasn’t so sure about that.  In my experience, the price of admission for many things in life was too costly for most folks.  It had little to do with determination or a willingness to pay the price.  Life may be a banquet for some, but for others it’s more like a crap sandwich and all you get to do is nibble around the bread crusts.  It’s my opinion that whenever somebody’s gettin’ all they want, a crime is usually being committed.

“Can you afford what you want?” he asked.

Crespo’s question surprised me.  But I tried to answer.  “Well, honestly, I can tell you this,” I begun.  “I been a tin-kicker and can-rat most of my adult life.  And a day late and a dollar short on rent for the better part.  And I have slept under many a trailer, that’s a fact.  But as God is my witness, I never needed or never wanted very much in life, so I can attest my expectations have been amply fulfilled.”