This is, without question, the best celebration I have ever been to… she thought to herself, sitting on the sunny patio of a waterfront taco dive. There’s no patronizing guests to get in the way of my good time… The waves lapped agains the concrete rubble of the seawall a few yards away. The evening sun shone mildly on her porcelain skin, the soft, salty breeze blew through her wavy black hair. She leaned back in her chair and lifted a beer to her ruby red lips. One woman party. Best party ever…
“Hey, gorgeous, is this seat taken?”
She tipped her sunglasses down her nose to glare at the interloping gate-crasher. Water ran in rivulets down his grinning face as he set down a lumpy bag with snorkeling supplies hanging out of the top. He may have been cute when he was dry, but right now he looked like a soaked rat. His wet dress shirt clung to his chest, clashing loudly with his festive board shorts. He sat down in the chair next to her and signaled for another two drinks.
“Normally, I wouldn’t presume to interrupt, but this is kind of a special day for me,” he said, still grinning. Silence passed as they stared at each other. “Aren’t you going to ask me why?” he said after a while.
“Oh yeah,” she snarked, “that’s what I want, to interrupt MY celebration to talk about you…” she took a sulky sip of water.
“Okay,” he replied, “let’s talk about you. What’s your name?”
She glared at him. “Honey.”
“Honey? Wow, that’s a… unique name…”
“—It’s short for Honorea. But I hate Honorea. So I ask everyone to call me Honey. Which I guess is only slightly better…”
“Well, do you have a last name, Honey?”
“Not for you,” she said with a pointed look, grabbing a beer from the waiter.
“Well my name’s Victor. Victor Vega.”
“Wait a minute!” somebody yelled from the other side of the patio. Two shirtless, light haired youths approached—one tall and stocky, the other short and skinny.
“Victor ‘The Loser’ Vega?” the skinny one smirked, elbowing his chunky friend in the ribs. “I graduated high school with this guy! He was always digging in the dirt all the time. The guy thought he was some kind of architect—”
“Archaeologist,” Victor corrected. “So how’s college, Mike?”
“wouldn’t you lke to know, being a lower-class washout!”
“You went to high school with a clod?” Mike’s chunky friend piped up.
“Yes I did, Colby. His dad was the janitor, so they had to let him inta the god school!” the two of them fell all over each other laughing.
“So, loser, find any thing good? Anything you can trade for food?” Mike asked. Colby made a grab for Victor’s lumpy bag, but Victor snatched it away.
The drawstring opened just enough and a little wooden sword tumbled out, crusted with algae and mud. Victor snatched it up and stuffed it back in his bag.
“Hah, must be hard to part with when it’s your only possession in the world!”
“Well, I’d be happy to do your homework for money; I know you’d never understand it.”
“yeah, I’ll bet you’d love to do my homework, you clod nerd!” Mike and Colby collapsed on top of each other, laughing.
“you guys are so gay for each other,” honey said with detached cool. “It’d be cute if you weren’t so ugly.”
Mike and Cloby straightened up. “Say, Loser, aren’t you gonna introduce us to your low-class lady over here?” Mike sat down across the table from her and grabbed her water glass. “I’d be happy to show you how the other half lives… for a night.” He took a long drink from the half empty glass and got a face full of ice.
Victor and Honey started laughing uncontrollably.
Mike growled. “Shut up, you little whore!”
“Hey!” Victor stood, suddenly, “Don’t talk to her like that!”
“What are you gonna do about it?” Colby said, stepping forward.
“Boys, boys!” Honey said calmly. She stood up slowly and took off her sunglasses. “There’s better ways to solve your problems than by fighting.” She smiled ever so slightly “How about a boat race?”
Mike smiled. He grabbed Colby by the arm and took off.
Victor dug in his pocket and slapped a moist fifty dollar bill on the table.
“You do have a boat, don’t you?” Honey asked, sliding up next to him.
“Well, yeah, it’s that one. But—” She grabbed his hand and ran off toward the crumbled concrete seawall where a battered old john-boat was tethered to a protruding piece of rusted rebar. She jumped in wordlessly, and began to prime the engine.
Victor tossed his bag in and untied the moorings. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
Honey looked at him pointedly. “Stop being a wimp and get in!” he stepped into the boat. She pulled the ripcord and the outboard motor roared to life, sending a flurry of bubles to the surface. She backed them away from the seawall just as Mike and Colby pulled up alongside them in a shining chrome fanboat.
“First one to the buoy and back is the winner.” He leered at the rusty bucket sitting next to them. “Ready? Three… Two…”
Honey twisted the rudder handle, the john-boat went shooting out into the bay.
“Hey! You cheating bitch!” Mike yelled. Colby he jammed the throttle stick down and took off after them.
Wind blasted past Victor’s ears as he and Honey rocketed across the shining surface of the water.
“You know, this whole bay used to be a city?” he screamed conversationally.
“Really?” Honey said, keeping her eyes on the prize, “I couldn’t tell for all the half submerged bildings.”
The fanboat swooped in from the right, easily overtaking them, zooming out in front and staying there. The wind from the fan made Victor’s lips flap in the wind. He looked over at Honey. She was biting down on hers.
“Go right!” Victor yelled.
“What?” she screamed back.
“I have a plan!” She jerked the rudder to the left and the boat skidded right, over the wake left by the fanboat. “Aim for the space between those two towers!”
The fanboat followed, predictably, but gained at tremendous speed. Both boats neared the towers.
“Now go left!” Victor yelled, “Around the left tower!”
“Why?”
“Hurry!”
Honey jerked the ruddr and the boat shot to the left, narrowly avoiding the broken glass of the building. The fanboat, without a rudder, went straight between the towers. There was a screeching sound. Its bow dipped below the surface of the water and Mike and Colby were pitched out into the salty brine. The fanboat started to snk.
“Ha-Ha! I told you! There’s an old antenna between those towers! Dangerous! Must be ten boats sunk in that spot!”
Honey Smiled and pored on the throttle anew, aiming for the buoy.
“Wait! Shouldn’t we go back and help them?” Victor yelled over the wind. Honey stared straight toward the horizon. The buoy was close. A few more meters…
They flew past it, dislodging a few angry seabirds as they went.
“Okay, now we turn back,” Victor said. But Honey kept going, a satisfied grin on her face. “Honey, listen… we need to go back…” Victor cajoled, moving closer so he wouldn’t have to yell as loud. But Honey kept right on going.
A huge cruise ship loomed in front of them, just leaving port. Honey swerved in and out of its massive wake, laughing merrily as she did so.
“Honey, I’m telling you—“
The little motorboat began to overtake the massive cruiser, drawing up alongside it. Honey waved to the few passengers out on deck.
The motor cut out. Honey glared down at the rudder, shook it a couple of times, and pulled the cord.
“That’s what I was trying to tell you,” Victor said. “We ran outta gas.” Honey frowned at him.
“Oh well,” she said. She stuck her arms in the water and started rowing with her arms toward the big cruiser.
“What are you doing?”
“Well, you don’t want to swim to shore, do you?” she said, reaching across the water for an access ladder and pulling the motorboat closer to the ship’s hull. She started to climb up the side of the ship.
“But wait! This is a rental!” Victor protested as he watched her go. He sighed, grabbing his bag. “I’m never gonna see that deposit again…” He truculently followed her up.
The deck of the ship was oddly flat and rectangular, with a bug square tower sticking out of the middle. They climbed under the railing and looked around. There wa a plane at the aft of the ship. None of the other passengers seemed to notice that they were stowaways.
The sun had set and people were moving belowdecks.
“We should find a place to spend the night,” said Victor, yawning.
“What are you, tired?” Honey said, glaring at victor. “Who could sleep after that?”
“Give me a break,” Victor whined, “I’ve been working all day.”
“Have it your own way,” Honey replied, and she marched off toward the plane at the end of the ship’s deck. Victor followed.
Under th ewing of the plane she sat and began to make camp. Victor sat down beside her, pulling a space blanket out of his bag.
“It’ll get cold on the water in the dark,” he said, unfurling the chrome sheet.
She turned to look at him. “If yo touch me in the night, I’m going to break your nose,” she said.
Victor’s eyes opened wide in surprise before he regained his composure. “Fine,” he said, “I’ll just go sleep under the other wing. And I’ll take my blanket with me.” He athered up his things and settled under the other wing of the plane. He pulled a lump of dirty clothes from his bag, fluffed it up, and laid his head on it like a pillow.
Honey turned to face the other way and curled up in a fetal position.
Well this has been an eventful day… she thought. I wonder if anyone suspects..? The wind picked up as the ship moved further and further out into open water. Suddenly, Honey became painfully aware of how cold she was. She looked over at Victor, already asleep. I can’t crawl under that blanket now; he’ll think I’m a hypocrte… She got up and crept over to where his bag lay, hoping t find something useful within. She sutck her arm in and brushed something that felt dirty. It startled her. Probably that old wooden sword… she thought. She pulled her arm out and looke inside. There was the sword, but it didn’t look dirty at all. It almost seemed to shimmer in the darkness.
She reached out a finger and touched it again. A tingle went dwn her arm. She pulled away quickly.
There was nothing useful in the bag, so she decided to commandeer the cushions fom some deck chairs nearby.
@}%~
