tale #46

“That ocean is like bathwater,” Lisa exclaimed, climbing, dripping wet, up the rope ladder hanging off the back of the Tchoomy Tchoomy.  She shook the water off and stretched herself out on the teak landing, droplets puddling around her.  The blue and red, one piece sports suit she was wearing showed off her golden limbs and athletic figure.  I heard a popping noise and looked over at two Steves and Lake who were sitting on the nearby deck, on beach chairs.  Their eyeballs were hanging out of their sockets, bouncing gently at the end of springs, like characters in an animated cartoon.

I moved over near Lisa and scanned the horizon for the small motor boat carrying Steve and Sam.  They had left the Tchoomy Tchoomy that morning on a “mission to fish.”  It was now well past lunch and there was still no sign of them.  In the distance, I saw Katherine and Henri, owner of the Tchoomy Tchoomy, snorkeling along a shallow reef.  Otherwise, the crystal blue water was empty.

The Tchoomy Tchoomy was a revamped Indonesian cargo boat.  Henri was a forty something revamped French Canadian.  He had shown up on Pohnpei about two years earlier with his boat and a stack of posters advertising charter services.  He spoke with a charming accent, preferred vodka to gin and played a mean alto saxophone.  Not much else was known about him.  That did not stop speculation.

The Tchoomy Tchoomy slept six comfortably, but more if you weren’t particular about where you sprawled for the night.  It had a single deck spread over several levels and was perfect for fishing and lounging.  During slow times, Henri was willing to take out groups of ex pats at reduced rates.  Now, we were anchored near Ant, one of the larger islands located on the outer edge of the reef.

Next to Lake, Jane watched the boys watching Lisa with an amused look on her fact.  She reached her leg out and tipped over the Fosters at Lakes feet.

“Hey,” Lake looked over at Jane and then at Lisa again.

“Ogling married women,” Jane said.  “Bad form.”

Lake gave Jane a wounded look.  “I was not ogling.  That was not an ogle. Certainly not a beer tipping ogle.”  He looked sadly at the river of yellow liquid flowing from the can.  “That was a nearly full can.”

Jane shook her head at him slowly.  “I knew this day would come.  I just didn’t think it would come so soon.”  She picked up a small white bucket and walked down to the landing where Lisa lay.  Moving past Lisa, she knelt down, dipped the bucket into the ocean and carried it back to the deck.  “You’re going to have to choose,” she said to Lake, as she splashed a bit of the sea water on the deck to rinse away the spilled beer, “between all the blonds in the world and me.”

“Hmmm,” Lake looked up from his low slung chair.  “That’s a tough call.”  He shielded his eyes from the sun with his hand.  “Can I have until Thursday?”

Jane turned the bucket on Lake at the same time Lake grabbed Jane around the knees.  The remaining water flew in all directions and Jane flew into Lake’s lap with his arms securely around her.  “You know what would make that decision easier.”  Lake grinned at her.

“Another beer?” Jane ventured.

Lake kissed her on the cheek.  “That’s why I love you,” he said releasing her.

“Men are so simple,” Jane said as she moved to the cooler strategically located near the stairs down into the cabin.

“Boy beer,” Lake called, “not girl beer.”

I joined Jane at the cooler, digging around for a cold juice.  “Boy beer?”

Jane nodded.  “Fosters.”

“And girl beer?”

“Corona.”

Lisa rolled over onto her stomach.  “Hey, my husband and I do the same thing, but with cookies.”

I couldn’t imagine how cookies could be divided into gender.  “Boy cookies?” I asked.

“With nuts.” Lisa said, and sat up gazed out at the postcard perfect view.  She gave a contented sigh and then stood and came over to the cooler.  “Y’all have another gal beer in there?”

I wandered over to Kelly and Jaycee who were seated on the upper level of the deck, keeping a watch for my Steve and Sam.  I slowly scanned the water on the front side of the boat.  ”They should be here soon.” Kelly said.  I knew there was no reason to be worried.  Sam’s motor boat was solid and he and Steve both knew their way around these waters.  Still, they’d been gone for most of the day.

Jaycee must have seen something in my face.  “They only took one six pack,” she assured me.

I nodded.

“For both of them,” she added.

I nodded again.

“Hey Austen,” Lisa called.  “Did you bring the letters?”

“Yes,” I called back, brightening.

“Well, c’mon then.  Haul ‘em on out.”  Lisa was now seated in a beach chair on the lower level deck.  Lake and Jane were elsewhere.

I went down to the cabin and dug through my duffel bag until I found the manila envelope with the resumes and cover letters I had received in response to the ad for another attorney.  I brought it onto the deck with me, stopping at the cooler on my way to pour some gin and tonic into a cup with ice-cubes.

Lisa gestured to a chair, recently vacated by one of the Steves.  “So, who’ve we got?”

I pulled out the stack of resumes and read the first one.  “Barbara Bonner of Lawton, Oklahoma,” I said.

“No,” Lisa said.  “I don’t like her.”

“You don’t know anything about her,” I objected.

Lisa shrugged.  “She’s from Oklahoma.  That’s enough.  They talk funny.”  She drank from her beer.  “Who else you got?”

I stuck Ms. Bonner at the bottom of the pile and looked at the next resume.  “Darlene Jonas.”

“Where’s she from?”

“Fort Lauderdale, Florida.”

Lisa shook her head.  “Not Florida.  People from Florida are suspect.  Who else?”

I moved Ms. Jonas to the bottom.  “Jasmine Lee. She’s a deputy public defender in Fresno California.”

“Jasmine, huh.”  Lisa wrinkled her nose.  “Odd name.  Might be her parents are hippies.  She is from California, after all.”

Oh for goodness sakes.  “She’s from Fresno.  That’s as close to the Midwest as you can get without leaving the state.”  Kelly and Jaycee joined us.  I put Ms. Lee at the bottom of the stack.  “How about Leah Robinson?  Does that name meet with your approval?”

“Is she Jewish?” Lisa asked.

“Is that a problem?” I snapped.

Lisa looked surprised.  “No, I’m just wonderin’ is all.  This hiring process is making you a bit tetchy.”

“I went to law school with a Leah Robinson,” Jaycee volunteered.  She was a black girl from Detroit.  I don’t know if she was Jewish.  We never discussed religion.”

This Leah Robinson was from Utah.  She currently worked as a private attorney for a firm that defended law enforcement in civil actions.  I set her aside as a possibility.  I looked over the next resume.  “Well hello, this sounds promising.  Patrick Carr, from Boulder, Colorado.  He works as a city attorney for the town of Littleton.” I looked up.  “That’s the type of work experience we need.”  I looked back down.  “Outside interests include fishing and sailing.  And,” I paused for dramatic effect, “he makes his own beer.”

“He’s hired,” Jaycee and Kelly said simultaneously.

“Sounds like your bloke” Steve the Australian tuna biologist said.

“Any objection?” I asked Lisa.

“I don’t know,” she said gravely.  “He’s not named Steve.  Is that allowed?”

We all thought about that.  What were the consequences of bringing a non-Steve on island?  We looked at one another questioningly.  We took a drink.

“I know,” Kelly said, “you can just call him Steve.”

I looked at Lisa.  “That might work,” she said slowly.

I set the resumes down and picked up the gin.  “I’ll write to Mr. Carr when we return.”  In the distance, I could hear the steady putter of what could only be Sam’s outboard motor.  I took another long drink of gin and relaxed further into the chair.

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