Troubled Waters

by Jerry Cole

  “Reggie, he’s only nine.”

  “Oh yeah… Hmm. Well, I have a colleague that’s quite knowledgeable about that level of education. Let me give her a shout, and I’ll refer her to you if she has any useful ideas.”

  “That would be splendid.”

  Reggie leaned back in his old fashioned, wooden, swivel chair and put his hands behind his head. “So-o-o, Darren, any booty lately?”

  Darren stared at him. “Reg. Really. You can be so crass sometimes. If I’d had a really great fuck, don’t you think I would have shared that information with you?”

  “Pathetic. You’re just pathetic.”

  ***

  Ness and his family lived atop a small hill near a small fishing village called Plakias, on the southern coast of Crete. The road leading to the center of town ran just below the house and led down to the dock where their father, Demetri, kept his fishing boat.

  As the family grew, so did the house, already at least a hundred and fifty years old. It had grown around a courtyard, one side of which held the main house. On the left side was the kitchen and some sheds, and on the third side, a smaller house had been for the grandparents when they were alive. On the fourth side ran a wall with an entrance gate, the road into town on the other side.

  The house had been hand constructed in the typical Greek Island tradition. It was white washed with blue windows and shutters.

  Ness was exhausted after the turmoil and tension of the concert, and when he got home he found that his throat was raspy. He needed to rest his voice before the next singing engagement in Athens. It was only a week away.

  His father, Demetri, spent most his days on his boat, even though he was not able to take it out for fishing. He had injured his back several years back when he fell from the rigging as he was untangling a line, and had never recovered enough to fish again. And since Ness was the only son, and not interested in fishing, the family’s fishing business had collapsed.

  Demetri spent his days working on the boat, painting, cleaning, or working on his nets. Sure enough, when Ness looked down from the gate , that’s where his father was. He looked so forlorn and lonely. Ness walked down the path to the dock.

  “Need any help?” he called out to his father.

  Demetri turned, shading his eyes with his hand, and answered, “Son, could always use a hand.”

  Ness hopped onto the boat. It might not have been used for fishing for a few years, but the smell of fish was still unmistakable.

  “What can I do for ya, papa?”

  “Mostly keep me company. Your sisters don’t much care to come down here.”

  Ness studied his father. He knew his dad was missing his work and felt like a failure now that Ness and his sisters provided the family income.

  Ness sat on the gunwale. “Papa, have you ever thought of selling the boat, and maybe taking the proceeds and opening up a shop in town? I hear Papadopoulos is thinking of retiring, and he has a dandy little business there at the café. Would seem to be a great opportunity. I could talk to him about it for you, if you liked.”

  Demetri scratched his beard and squinted. “Ah, son, that’s very thoughtful but I just can’t part with my beauty,” he said patting the wall of the cabin. “Maybe your sister, Rhea, would be interested.”

  “But we’d need to sell the boat to get the cash to buy the café.”

  Demetri shook his head. “Not selling.”

  Ness had another thought. “What if you turned this into a tourist boat? Offer tours to historical spots along the coast. Or even charter out as a fishing boat—take out half a dozen or so fishermen at a time and let them line fish. They’d pay top dollar and you could still use the boat and be the captain.”

  Demetri smiled. “Hey, I like that idea.”

  “And maybe Tanis could handle the business end. She’s very clever with that sort of thing.”

  “And she’d know how to promote it as well.”

  “Ness!” A voice rang out from the road up above.

  Ness turned to see his friend, Markos, waving at him.

  “Papa, do you mind…?”

  “No, go ahead son. And thanks for the suggestion. I would like that to work.”

  “I can help set it up when I’m around.”

  Demetri nodded.

  Ness walked up the path to where Markos was waiting for him. “Hey, brother,” Ness said, taking his friend in a hug.

  “The big star, huh?” Marcos said, grinning and patting Ness on the shoulder.

  “Well, we’ll see. It hasn’t aired yet. All we’ve done so far is film it.”

  Markos and Ness had been friends since childhood. Markos’ business was renting out his donkey for locals who needed to transport items too big to carry up to their hilltop hard-to-reach houses, or to tourists who wanted an “authentic” experience of Greece. Not much of a living, but Markos was lazy and only interested in partying, so he was content.

  Markos, a head shorter than Ness, had a hefty build and was a little overweight, but he could still win the girls with his bright smile and playful personality. “Want to go to the beach?” Markos asked.

  Ness looked up at the clear sky. “Why not. But don’t you need to work?”

  “Ah, what’s a day or two?”

  Ness laughed. “How do you get by? You amaze me.”

  “What’s life for but fun? Huh?”

  “Yes, all right. Let me get my swim shorts.”

  “Ah, where we’re going won’t need them. But I’ve got us a couple of towels and water. Come on let’s go.”

  Markos and Ness had their favorite hidden beach about a mile from Ness’ house, and they set out along the shortcut that led over the hill behind the property. “Meet any hot American girls at your concert?” Markos asked, with a distinct leer.

  Ness shot him a glance. “A few. Pretty full of themselves, though.”

  “Who cares as long as they put out, right?

  “Markos, you know how I feel about that.”

  Markos gave him a strange look. “You haven’t become a faggot have you?” Ness scowled. “You’d tell me, right? I am your best friend, after all.” Ness shook his head. “’Cause if you are, I ain’t swimming naked in case you make a grab at my dick.”

  Ness started running. “I wouldn’t grab that pencil dick of yours even if I was gay. Who could find it in all that blubber?”

  “You bitch!” Markos shouted, running after Ness—then catching up and running ahead as they’d reached the beach.

  Markos stripped off his clothes as he ran across the sand and dove headlong into the waves. Ness stripped down too and followed after. They dove and splashed and kicked sand at each other before returning to the beach and collapsing face down in the sand.

  Ness closed his eyes. He felt the sun on his back and began to think about a new song that was forming up in his mind. Soon, he reminded himself. Soon he would be a star and have all the money he needed to fully support his family. And maybe, just maybe, he could also find the love of his life.

  Chapter Three

  Thornton Davis strode in circles around his office at the top of the Chrysler Building, thinking and brandishing a riding crop like a British colonel from the Boer War admonishing his troops. He had a large frame, but he was sturdy, not fat. He kept his red hair cropped short and his blue eyes were so light they almost disappeared, giving his gaze a haunted disturbing quality that he used to his advantage to disorient his opponents.

  He went to his desk and read the printout of his daily schedule. He was surprised to see that his sister-in-law, Loretta, and his nephew, Darren, had arranged a meeting with him.

  He humphed. That usually meant money matters, he thought, as they rarely met socially anymore after his brother’s death. They were too spread out and all three were now focused on other matters of greater importance. He surmised they weren’t going to be asking for money, at least, as they had plenty of their own. That would be a relief. So many of his wife’s greedy relatives were constan
tly bombarding him with sycophantic requests for investments, donations, or simply handouts.

  He couldn’t imagine what those two wanted to meet about, but he would soon find out.

  ***

  Loretta ambled into Thornton’s office and gazed around at the setting. It had no particular focus or style, rather like the man himself, she thought. Darren followed, carrying his briefcase with the material about which they wanted to consult.

  Loretta came over to Thornton who was standing beside his desk, riding crop in hand. “Thornton, what a great pleasure. It’s been far too long.” She extended her hand and he shook it.

  “Loretta, lovely as always. You never age.” He turned to face Darren. “Nephew, how’s your fine son?”

  “A handful, but ever shining.”

  “Any more kinder on the way?” Thornton asked.

  “No. I’m divorced and gay, remember?”

  “Ah, yes. Keeps slipping my mind. And still playing at being a professor?”

  “Playing at, no… being, yes,” Darren said, curtly.

  “Seems like a waste to me. With all your mega-bucks you should be doing something useful with your life—like making more money.”

  Loretta, not liking the direction the conversation was taking, reached out and put her hand on Thornton’s arm. “Then perhaps you might enjoy our newest endeavor. We think it will be ever so useful, and it’s a project that might interest you as well.”

  “Are you wanting me to fund something?” Thornton asked.

  “Not at all,” Darren said. “Unless you feel inclined to contribute, as it’s a non-profit project. What we’re actually looking for from you is your advice. If we may?”

  Darren headed over to a coffee table at the side of the office where there were a sofa and several upholstered chairs. He opened his briefcase and took out a folder and sat on the sofa. Loretta sat down beside him while Thornton stood looking down at the presentation.

  “Mother and I have been looking for a big project. Something our foundation could get behind. We’ve supported many smaller ventures, but we now feel the need to tackle something larger, and we’ve come to you as we believe it’s an area with which you might have some experience.”

  Darren looked up at Thornton and pushed the papers toward him.

  “We intend to fund it with foundation money, but we also want to involve the public—to garner their support, and to raise awareness of the issues.”

  Thornton picked up the top page of the proposal. “Water? This is about water?”

  “The next scarce commodity. Pollution, climate change, overpopulation, and the depletion of aquifers are making water as precious as oil. Before long, there will even be wars fought over water.” Darren said.

  “Hm. And what do you propose to do about it?” Thornton asked.

  “There’s so much that can be done,” Loretta said. “We were thinking of starting in Africa, where the problem is most acute. We want to create teams to go from village to village to help them establish sustainable water supplies and delivery systems.”

  “Will they be searching for water sources as well as building pumps?” Thornton asked.

  “Absolutely. Then we hope to expand to other countries and develop educational programs, and water recycling projects, and perhaps even do research on affordable desalination. The possibilities are endless.” Darren said enthusiastically.

  Thornton started pacing and thrashing the air with his crop.

  “And what did you want from me?”

  “It was my understanding that you have some business interests connected to water, is that not so?” Loretta asked.

  Thornton nodded. “I’ve been developing pipelines. Cities need to find new sources, just as you say, and my colleagues and I are working to address their concerns.”

  “But it’s a for-profit operation, is that not so?” Darren observed.

  “Of course. I don’t have your idealism.”

  “Perhaps there’s a way to do both,” Loretta suggested.

  Thornton was deep in thought. “Perhaps, perhaps… Do you know what you need from me, exactly?”

  Darren spoke up, “Our greatest need right now is to set up and incorporate our organization. Perhaps your legal staff could advise us. We need non-profit certification, and all the necessary forms to do business overseas and legally set up our operations in each village.”

  Thornton nodded and paced some more. “Yes, yes. I believe we might be able to offer you that assistance. When are you looking to start this project?”

  “As soon as we can set up a headquarters, find a staff, and solidify the funding. Was thinking of doing a major international telethon in the next couple of months to introduce the group—we’re going to call it Water Unlimited—and engage the public and raise funds.”

  “Ambitious. Yes. Tell ya what. You get all your ducks in a row and come back to me with a specific proposal as to how you want me to be involved, and I’ll take a look and decide how we might be able to help.”

  “Excellent,” Darren said. He and Loretta both stood. Darren put his papers away.

  “How about lunch?” Thornton asked. “I’ve got a dandy Thai joint on the first floor. Be my guests.”

  ***

  Ness and Kori sat in the kitchen late one morning. Kori had just made them cups of coffee. Their other two sisters were out at their various jobs, and Demetri was once again down at the boat.

  Kori reached over and put her hand on Ness’ hand. “I’m going to miss you terribly.”

  “But this is it, sister. The American TV show is going to air later this summer, and Philippe is working his butt off to line up US recording contracts.”

  “Then I guess we won’t be seeing a lot of you from now on,” she said, wistfully. “You’ll be swept off your feet and gallivanting about America.”

  Ness laughed. “It’s going to be a while before I‘ll be back, that’s true, but once this all takes off, I’ll be able to send money home on a regular basis.”

  “It’s not about the money, Ness.”

  “I know…”

  “I also worry about Papa.”

  “Have you talked to Tanis about my proposal?”

  “No, not sure what you’re talking about,” she said, as she absent-mindedly brushed crumbs off the top of the table.

  Ness explained his plan for his father’s boat, with Tanis acting as business manager and promoter.

  “Maybe that could work,” Kori said, nodding.

  “I’ll send some money soon. I’ve got that concert in Athens next week; I should have some extra cash from that. Maybe you and Tanis could start organizing the new business.”

  “I’ll talk to Tanis.” She thought for a moment. “And what about you? Do you have a life apart from us and your work? Are you seeing anyone?”

  Ness shook his head.

  “Any prospects? Met any nice women through the singing?”

  “None any I care about.”

  Kori studied her brother. “You know, I have no idea… have you dated anyone other than that girl—what’s her name, from school?”

  “Alana.”

  “Yes, that’s her. She seemed nice. Never went anywhere?”

  “Got caught up in the singing. That’s been my life for years now.”

  “But what about all those stories about sex, drugs, and rock and roll? You tell me that you’re not a part of that scene? There must be fillies all over the place just lining up for a cute number like you.”

  Ness laughed again. “Much hype and highly overrated. To go where I want to go demands discipline and a hell of a lot of work. Sure, there are opportunities, but I don’t want to be distracted. Eventually there will be a time for me to think about a personal life, but not just yet. Can you understand that?”

  “I can, and I’m pleased you are so sensible about it.”

  “I had a good mommy.” He patted Kori’s cheek.

  She brushed his hand away with a laugh.

  “What time are
you leaving tomorrow?” she asked

  “I’m taking the early boat. Philippe is meeting me and we pick up rehearsals for the concert right away.”

  “So what’s up for your last night?”

  “I’m meeting Markos at the club. He insists on getting me drunk, but don’t think that’s going to happen.”

  ***

  It was well after midnight when Ness staggered out of the club. Markos had been plying him with drinks all evening. He might not have been dead drunk, but he certainly was flying high. It had taken all his will power to break away and start walking home. He had to catch that early morning ferry to Athens, and Philippe would skin him alive if he missed that. Philippe had the musicians lined up, as well as a number of soloists—and that cost money. Money that would come out of his pocket if he blew off the rehearsal.

  As he walked away, he had the sense that someone was following him. He turned briefly to see a man walking casually behind. Ness walked up the road from the harbor and turned right onto the road that led to his house. He glanced, once again, to see if the man was still following. The man was leaning up against the wall at the corner, lit from above by a streetlight attached to the building.

  “You speak English?” the man asked.

  “Yes, I do,” Ness acknowledged

  The man was holding out a cigarette. “Got a light?” he asked softly.

  “Sorry, I don’t smoke.”

  “That’s okay.” The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a lighter.

  Ness stood riveted, looking at the man. He was not a local. He must be English or a tourist that spoke English. The way he stood, hip out at an angle, lighting his cigarette, yet staring intently at Ness, made him nervous. And yet Ness couldn’t turn away. The man was so intensely handsome.

  The man approached casually. He walked right up to Ness and stood squarely before him.

  “Hot in there, yeah?”

  “I’m sorry…?”

  “The club—too hot. Needed some fresh air.” Ness nodded. “Not much scenery.”

  Ness did not understand. “Scenery?”

  “Not many lookers. Is that why you left?”