The 57th Keeper

by R.G. Bullet

  S E C O N D S E S S I O N

  Alturus arrived early for the next session and Doctor Baum seemed just as keen. In no time at all he was back on the couch in a deep trance, reliving details on board the Commodore 2.

  Alturus worked on the top deck. Making sure it was ‘ship shape and Bristol fashion’. After carefully stacking and stowing the blue and white cushions in large chests he dragged the hose out and started spraying fresh water over the teak. As it drained off he whistled away polishing and buffing the chrome lanterns. He placed over-sized white towels on the backs of every deck chair, making sure the Commodore’s logo was centered and facing out. Then he stocked the fridge with champagne and set it to the right temperature. Occasionally he’d look over the sides and marvel at his good luck as the Commodore pushed its way powerfully through the turquoise waters of the Mediterranean.

  The morning had been perfect, and as he finished his duties Captain Pullman’s voice crackled out of the speakers above him. “Crew we’ll shortly be arriving at Eze—ready yourselves to receive baron and his party. The ship’s course for the next month will be decided later this evening. So please don’t ask me again. I will message you. Two things: First that new members of the crew are re-advised on privacy matters and to baron’s... err... eccentricities. Secondly, Marlow and Alturus please report to me immediately. Thanks for your attention. Port in fifteen minutes.”

  Alturus made his way to the captain’s bridge and as he slid the door back to enter Marlow trotted up behind him. It was the first time Alturus had seen the bridge. The nerve centre of the whole ship had a curved windscreen giving it a 180 degree view of the glistening ocean in front. Three large green screens dominated a center consul. Green, white and red lights twinkled from a vast array of surrounding electronics. Hissing French voices came over the radio. Captain Pullman was perched high on a central chair. He looked over at Alturus and Marlow, his all-knowing eyes scrutinizing them beneath his wiry, red brows.

  “Thank you, gentlemen. You’ll need to run and tend to the luggage smartish. The authorities here have given us a courtesy half an hour at the dock, then we’re on our way. You’re to take the luggage directly to the assigned state rooms. Clear, gents?”

  “Yes, Captain,” they shot back.

  “Dismissed.”

  Alturus held the door open for Marlow, and was about to follow him out when the Captain’s voice stopped him. “Alturus stay here a minute please.

  “Yes, captain,” said Alturus, pulling the door closed.

  “I want you to give you the chance to deal with the baron personally.”

  Alturus frowned. “Vicki does this, no?”

  “No. Victoria has asked to be replaced. I need someone like you Alturus, discreet and effective.”

  Alturus felt the Commodore tilt slightly to one side. The whistle hanging near the window clicked against the glass. “One second, Alturus.” Captain Pullman pressed a button in front of him, held it down and spoke into a microphone. “Graham, the gyro feels like it’s on half power. Double-check the calibration and set to eight. Over.”

  A voice came back from the speakers behind them. “You’re right, captain. I meant to re-set this morning. Putting it back on eight as we speak. Should kick in soon. Over.”

  Captain Pullman released the button and picked up where he left off. “I mean the baron can get a bit wild at times. And it has become worse. Not violent in any way, but just out of control. He has gone through several personal assistants in the last year alone. So let’s see how you do. What I’m trying to say is this is a large vessel and I’ve enough to handle without worrying about anything else. I need you to learn his ways and take the initiative. He’s a generous chap if you get it right. Do you follow me?”

  “Yes, Captain. Got it. Leave with me.”

  “I’ll simply introduce you as his new assistant. Take it from there. Okay?”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  Alturus was advancing quicker than he imagined. He was now personal assistant to the owner who he’d never even met. As the captain gave clipped orders to the crew, easing the Commodore into the dock, Alturus spotted two black limos arriving.

  “Alturus, hop to it!” said captain Pullman.

  Alturus bounced down the gangplank, hurried to position, and waited with his hands behind his back. The crew lined up with him. Clean, groomed, uniformed. Captain Pullman filed passed them and stood like soldier on duty.

  Two men stepped out of the first limo. They were both busy on their cell phones. Two women followed in their wake, engaged in a lively chat.

  Alturus waited for a cue from Captain Pullman, who didn’t flinch.

  The second limo swept by the first and parked close to the gangplank. Four women stepped out. They were a dazzling whirl of cashmere, blond and brunette hair, wide smiles, small bags and high heels. Their attention was focused on a man as he pushed up between them. He was tall. His grey hair was tied back in a ponytail and he wore a crinkled white linen suit with light brown sandals, and he had large golden rings of each of his little fingers.

  Captain Pullman stepped forward and shook the man’s hand. “A warm welcome, baron. And to your guests. We are ready when you are.”

  “Yah, yah. Have you changed the oil and put on new windscreen vipers?” the baron spoke perfect English but his accent was distinctly German.

  Captain Pullman laughed. “Yes. We emptied the ashtrays too,” he added.

  The baron let out a deep laugh. “I love your sense of humor. I have one for you.” He grabbed Captain Pullman’s arm, hugged him closer and whispered something to him but Alturus only caught the tale end. “And so little Johnny says: I LIKE the way you think!” The baron released another booming laugh and the captain grinned, glancing across at Alturus as if to say: You get it now?

  The girls circled the Baron. One of them brandished a tanned leather case and pulled out a large cigar, lit it up and handed it over.

  The baron puffed on it twice. The smoke mixed with the girl’s expensive perfume. “Newbies?” he said, addressing the question to Captain Pullman while fixing his stare on Alturus.

  “Yes, baron, newbies. Samuel was taken ill in Gibraltar—food poisoning.”

  “Good God. I’m sorry to hear this. Send him a case of my Alaskan smoked salmon. And where is Vicki?”

  “I needed to reposition Vicki. She’s up on the top bar now. Baron this is Alturus Burk. He’ll be taking Vicki’s position. Alturus this is Baron Von Manheim.”

  The baron threw Alturus a sharp, sideways glance. “Hmm. I don’t know, Vicki was much prettier.”

  “I agree, baron,” said the captain. “What have you got to say about that, Alturus?”

  Alturus stroked the side of his face. “I look much better after a shave baron,” said Alturus cheekily.

  “Ha! I like this.” The baron chuckled. “Now listen. You vill all call me, Manny, or I will have you keel hauled.”

  “Of course, baron. Shall we?” Captain Pullman gestured to the gangplank.

  But the baron turned heel reached back in to the limo and pulled out a leather bag.

  Captain Pullman tapped Alturus on the arm and he sped over to assist.

  “No. This I will take. Get the others, please.” The baron slung the bag over his shoulder and Alturus scrambled to get the other cases. Marlow trundled passed him with a cart to collect the baggage from the guests. “Come, everybody.” The baron beckoned. “Follow me... follow me for a good time.”

  Doctor Baum’s voice rang out from somewhere in back of Alturus’s mind. “You’re doing well Alturus. Very clear details. Now, tell me a little bit more about the baron.”

  “He was difficult to get to know in beginning. I tried all I could but he didn’t need me... he kept to his quarters for hours on the first leg of the trip. I tried several times to assist him, but he didn’t need me. Then a few days later,  he was sat around a table with the two other men playing cards. Cigar smoke everywhere. The girls are on the sofas read
ing or tapping into a cell phones while another circles them, topping up drinks. The baron spotted me and called me over.

  “Alturus—this is your name, right?”

  “Yes, Alturus.”

  “Alturus, do you know how to play poker?”

  “Oh yes, poker I know, baron.”

  “Good. Take a seat.”

  If the baron wanted him to sit, then sit he would, Alturus thought. Captain Pullman wouldn’t complain. After all, he was finally making the baron happy. The baron dealt the cards.

  “Three card brag to get us started. And after, Texas hold-em.”

  The baron pushed a handful of blue chips in Alturus's direction.

  Everything was going well for about an hour. Alturus paced himself and kept in the game. Winning only occasionally. The baron won the last hand but something seemed to irk him. He pulled at his collar, cleared his throat releasing growling sounds. Then suddenly he jumped up and started huffing and puffing wildly.

  “THAT’S what I am speaking about—Aces and faces,” the baron said, jutting out his jaw and pointing at his guests with the cigar. “Yah—that’s it—that’s it—I’m rolling now, baby... ROLLING!” he chanted. Suddenly he ripped off his jacket and jumped up on to his chair. “Can you feeeel this?”

  The girls started giggling but Alturus could see that the baron wasn’t doing this for their entertainment. He looked like he was on his own planet. The corners of his lips were frothy and his eyes carried a glazed, beady stare. My god, thought Alturus, understanding why Vicki had requested to change positions, he’s actually mad! Alturus sprung to his feet. “Can I get you some water, baron?”

  “Yah—water—water’s good...” and with that the baron hopped onto the glass coffee table which shattered instantly. The baron fell to the floor in a fit of convulsions.

  Alturus moved quickly. He rolled the baron clear of the glass and tried to restrain his flailing limbs. He wrenched his belt out and wedged it into the baron’s mouth to stop him biting his tongue. The girls stood aghast and the two men only lingered nearby and watched as Alturus did his best. The convulsions slowed after a few seconds.

  “Pass this,” said Alturus, pointing to the jug of water on the side cabinet, “yes, yes pass it quickly.” He poured water over his own hands then lightly tapped the side of the baron’s face. No reaction.

  Alturus then tore through his basic ABC checks: air, breathing, circulation. Gordon, the other steward, skidded to a stop by his side carrying a bulky first aid kit. Alturus spilt the contents of the kit across the floor and picked up a vile. He checked the label under the light then snapped it open.

  “What is that?” asked the man to his right who still puffed on his cigar.

  “Smelling things.”

  “The baron’s got bad timing for this stuff, I’ve got a great hand...”said the man peering over.

  Alturus held the vile under the baron’s nose. The effect was immediate and the baron jolted back to consciousness with a gasp.

  “It’s okay—it’s okay,” said Alturus. “You pass out.”

  The baron groaned, and blinked rapidly trying to focus on all eyes baring down at him.

  “You blipped out—again,” said the man with the cigar. “He gave you smelling salts.”

  The baron sat up raking his hands through his hair. “I must get my... help me.” He held out his hand and Alturus pulled him up. The baron steadied himself then wobbled off ignoring everyone and making his way down to his rooms. Alturus followed.

  The baron slumped onto the bed, rolled over pulling the top blanked over himself. Alturus pulled his shoes off.

  “What can I get you, baron?”

  “Nothing. I’m alright.” The baron’s voice came muffled through the blanket. “Thank you, you did well, Alturus. You’re a good man.”

  Alturus quietly shut the door and turned to see Gordon rushing up the corridor.

  “How is he?” said Gordon.

  “Not so good,” Alturus replied. “He looks tired. I think we leave him for a bit and I’ll look in later on.”

  “Pullman sent me down to get you, he’s concerned. He’s waiting for you on the bridge.”

  Weaving his way through the yachts corridors and up the stairs Alturus wondered if he’d messed up.  What is Captain Pullman going to do with me now? The bridge was dimmed and the moonlight reflecting off the sea laid down a silver path ahead for the Commodore 2.

  “This can’t happen again, Alturus,” said Captain Pullman. His face etched with concern.

  Alturus stomach clenched. “I did badly?”

  “No. You did well, Alturus. I mean these incidents with the baron are becoming more frequent. I need you to stay close to him over the next few days—make sure he is okay on the crossing to Palma.