Robert Stone - A Flag for Sunrise

“You playing kneesies with him, Dee?”

“I confess,” Pablo heard her say; he was startled. “I was playing hot kneesies with him. I dig him.”

“If you fuck him,” Callahan said, “that rather makes him one of the family. I think that’s going too far.”

Negus uttered a series of low cautioning obscenities. “I wish the governance around here would pull its socks up. We’re doing serious business and the whole vessel’s stoned, drunk or sopored.”

There was a brief silence and then laughter.

“Pablo’s all right,” Callahan said. “For our purposes.”

“I gotta admit he ain’t as bad as some of ’em,” Negus said. “He’s a hard-ass and that’s good if he knows his place in things.”

“I think he does,” said Mrs. Callahan. “Pablo Tabor is one of life’s little yo-yos. He wants to please and he’ll do just fine.”

His ear pressed against the cold sweating woodwork, Pablo’s mind beheld the picture of a red yo-yo on a red, white and blue string with a store sticker on it that said “Made in Japan.” He had forgotten that he was high; he was more puzzled than angry. I’m gonna fuck her brains out, he thought.

Negus was swearing again. “You see the fucking weaponry he had on him? He was armed to the goddamn teeth. Shit!”

Another silence and Negus said: “Tino don’t like him.”

“Tino’s not too big on the whole number,” Callahan said.

“Well,” Deedee Callahan said, “Tino’s a fucking mystic. How can you go by Tino?”

“I’m inclined to go by him,” Negus said. “I been with him fifteen years in all weather.”

Crouched in the hold, Pablo heard a step on the deck above him. He heaved himself against the boards and saw a shadow pass between his hiding place and the night sky. It would be Tino, he thought. Coming up from the lazaret. From going through his gear. He bent lower and listened.

“Naftali still take his money up front?” It was Negus.

“First thing that happens is Naftali gets his dough. He’ll be on the pier with his hand out.”

“Chrissakes,” Negus said, “that old boy rakes it in. I seen him peel off hundred-dollar bills like they was lempiras. I think he keeps it all in his hotel room, I swear.”

Pablo was thinking of an old boy in a hotel room full of hundred-dollar bills when he was startled once more by a sound on deck. He looked up and saw the outline of a man directly above him. It could only be Tino again. After a few moments, the man moved off aft. Pablo waited, too anxious to eavesdrop further, and then climbed silently out of the ice hold. He saw no one. For a while he leaned on the rail expecting to be challenged — but there was no further sign of Tino and he was reassured. He went down into the lazaret, found his gear in good order and climbed into his rack.

Negus and the Callahans sat late in their paneled cabin while the Cloud ran on automatic. Tino was brewing coffee in the galley.

“We getting ice and fuel from the Perreiras this time?” Negus asked. He was hunched in a captain’s chair, his bony arms folded on the table. Callahan sat across from him nursing a glass of soda water. His lady reclined on a short sofa, her feet up, reading High Times.

“I don’t think so,” Callahan said. “I think we’ll get grub and parts from the Perreiras, then after dark we’ll go over to Naftali’s outfit in Serrano. We can get fuel from him along with the goods.”

“What’ll we tell Perreira?”

“We’ll tell him Naftali made us a better offer. He won’t press it. He’s not aggressive.”

“Always wondered how Naftali got away with running that operation,” Negus said. “You’d think the Dutch would know it. Or the Americans.”

“Maybe they do. Anyway it’s Naftali’s property, he owns it and he’s pretty fucking careful. Or else Mossad owns it and they’re super-careful.”

Tino came down from the galley carrying a cup of coffee and took a chair. He spoke briefly to Negus in Papamiento.

“You’re unhappy,” Callahan said to him.

“I don’ like dat mon,” Tino said. “Pablo.”

“Hell, I don’t like him neither,” Negus said. “But he ain’t supposed to be a nice fella. He’s our sonuvabitch.”

“You approved him, Tino. You said you’d ship with him.”

“So I gon to,” Tino said.

Callahan kept his eyes on the engineer.

“You’re sort of off the whole enterprise, in my opinion.”

Tino smiled sadly.

“De ting can be done, capt’n. De money’s good.”

“I think,” Negus said slowly, “that Tino’s concerned about the way things are being done lately.”

“Meaning what?” Callahan asked.

“I ain’ sayin’ dat, Fred. You sayin’ dat, not me.”

“Look, Jack,” Negus said, “you have to admit that we been getting lax. You been drinking a lot, there’s that. You been drinking on the job, so to speak. The both of you been acting like there’s no tomorrow. I mean, the days are past when you can operate down here in a spirit of fun like.”

“You can ask anybody around, Freddy, and they’ll tell you we’re the most professional, the most reliable vessel in the commerce. That’s always been true.”

“It’s been true in the past, Jack.”

“If we weren’t good, Naftali wouldn’t work with us.”

Negus looked down at the tabletop.

“I’ll tell you — sometimes I’m surprised he still does.”

“Well,” Callahan said, “you give me pause, Freddy.”

“I’m sorry, skipper, but there it is. Sometimes it feels like we’re just floating a party.”

“We do like we’ve always done, Fred. The only difference is we seem to be losing our confidence.”

Negus was silent.

Callahan reached across the table for the bottle and poured some rum into his soda.

“Maybe you’re right about getting old for it. Could be it’s the beach for you, old stick. Maybe you should get back to that saloon in Hope Town.”

“I just hope to see it again,” Negus said.

“Nowadays,” Tino told them, “so many droguistas. A mon get killed quick.”

“Young Pablo reminds me of a droguista, ” Negus said after a while. “That’s what bothers me about him.”

“He’s a Coast Guard deserter,” Callahan said. “Hasn’t been around long enough.”

“Know who he reminds me of,” Negus said. “That dude we had the trouble with … you know. Can’t even remember his damn name.”

Deedee put her magazine aside.

“Oh, dear,” she said. “What an unpleasant thought.”

“Dat was bad,” Tino said.

Negus nodded in somber agreement.

“Well,” Callahan said, “we dealt with it. I trust we won’t have to do that to anybody again. However,” he said, “should the occasion arise … we won’t be found lacking in resolve.”

Freddy Negus stood up and walked to the hatch that led up to the galley.

“It ain’t a matter of Pablo, Jack. It’s the whole thing. I mean, Tecan’s no milk run. Those Tecs lay hands on us, we’ve had the fucking drill.” He leaned in the hatchway for a moment and went back to his chair. “El Jefe’s got a lot of new technology. He’s got more boats and they’re faster. He’s got helicopters. The Yanks give him whatever he wants. They tell him what he wants.”

“We’ve always run the same risks, Fred.”

“Damnit,” Negus said, “we were younger. We were tougher and more squared away. And you were … more responsible.”

“Obviously,” Callahan said, “if you don’t have faith in me we can’t operate.”

“Fred’s been brooding,” Deedee said. “He’s been thinking about that albino dwarf El Jefe keeps.”

Callahan sipped his drink.

“Oh,” he said with a smile, “the one who chews people’s privates off.”