Lingerie For Felons

by Ros Baxter

  So, anyway, Emmy being there was just the first thread in the bizarre tangle of freaked-out thoughts that one word (— ‘Kenzo?!’ — had created in my confused mind.

  Two: hearing Emmy call El Capitan that name, Kenzo, made the befuddled machinery of my brain creak into gear and connect some other dots. Even though my logical brain rejected the conclusion, it seemed that perhaps El Capitan was none other than Emmy’s Internet lover, the Japanese fisherman. Obviously the devious little weasel hadn’t told her he butchered whales for a living. Might have taken the ‘genteel’ sheen off a little.

  But it had to be him.

  Suddenly, I recalled the pink book I kept seeing him consulting. Oh my God. Emmy’s signature covers for her bestsellers were all pink. But how had she known it was him? How had she connected the dots? Maybe she’d heard all that crap before about his father’s maxim for living and dying honourably, blah blah. It was obviously his line. You now, how some guys sidle up to women in bars with the same sad pick-up line again and again. Maybe that’s how El Capitan snares women. With the whole honor line. Weird.

  All I could think once I made this connection was: what the hell is going to happen now? Is she just going to totally go off at him? I had visions of her swooping across to the whaling ship to strangle him barehanded. More for his duplicity than for kidnapping and imprisoning me. I wonder if the poor guy has any idea how truly terrifying Emmy can be when she’s mad — even when she’s not, come to think of it. Or is it going to be some bizarre An Officer and a Gentleman moment where he scoops her up and they end all soft focus and romantic — hopefully taking the time to untie me and my pals first?

  Just then, the last thread began to untangle itself from the bird’s nest of thoughts that my muddled brain had become.

  Three: Emmy was going to be outed. I was pretty sure, knowing her as well as I do, that she would have brought media along with her for the ride. She knew its power to open doors. And here she was, about to be outed as Alyssa St James. On national, maybe international, television. If this thing was going to go down how I thought it was, that is. Emmy protects her anonymity more jealously than an undercover narc. She can’t bear all the crap that goes along with celebrity. She once told me that if Britney Spears didn’t want to get hounded by the press, she should change her name, dye her hair, go live in Jersey and stop courting the press. Oh, and put some underwear on.

  When El Capitan responded to Emmy, he sounded like someone had strangled him. ‘Alyssa?’ he croaked.

  Huh, obviously they’ve gotten past the Ms St James thing. Maybe they’ll graduate to holding hands after all this is over.

  ‘Kenzo,’ Emmy sighed. ‘Yes, it’s me. My real name is Emmeline Murphy. And you have my sister there. I need her back.’

  ‘Your sister?’ El Capitan sounded like he was the one having trouble making connections now. ‘The journalist?’

  Even in a crisis, Emmy couldn’t resist a barb. She spluttered out a cough.

  ‘Well, really, I think “journalist” is a little grand. She’s hardly with the Times.’ Then she collected herself. ‘But yeah, I guess. Her. The only woman you have over there.’

  El Capitan paused again and, when he responded, he sounded tired; sad. ‘I am sorry, my dear,’ he said. ‘I cannot release these prisoners. Not even for you. It is a matter of honor.’

  Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. People do not say no to my sister.

  I waited for the storm to hit, but obviously after God knows how many years of email chat with this guy, Emmy knew something about his psychology. I always forget how brilliant she is until these sorts of moments. The ship was obviously really close, or the loudspeaker really good, because I actually heard her draw breath.

  ‘Kenzo,’ she started, in this really gentle, chiding tone. ‘There is no honor in this. This is the path of violence and oppression. This is the path of isolation and regret.’

  Man, she was good.

  ‘Brave men are those who protect the vulnerable, the small and weak, the misguided.’

  Hey, does she mean me? Actually, I didn’t really care. I could see what she was doing. Keep going, my clever one. Insult me all you like. Just get me off this hideous ship.

  ‘Brave men, wise men, understand that people make mistakes. They are big enough, manly enough, to make allowances for the indiscretions of youth and passion.’ She waited, obviously allowing time for her words to sink in. ‘Kenzo, ask yourself: what would Thomas do?’

  Wow, a masterstroke. Thomas was the hero of Emmy’s latest line of historical novels, a swashbuckling sea captain who rescued people and generally did good deeds. And always got the girl in the end. Obviously a favorite of Kenzo’s.

  When El Capitan spoke, he was different. Proud, determined. ‘My dear,’ he said. ‘You are right. I have been foolish. Vain. Proud. I was so furious about the incursion I could not see the bigger picture; its place in history. This incident is nothing. These poor young fools cannot harm me, or my honor.’ He paused for dramatic effect. ‘You may take them. I will let them go.’

  I know it’s pathetic, but I started to weep with joy. Actually, weep sounds sort of genteel, doesn’t it? I must have been affected by the whole weird honor speech. I really sobbed big, ugly sobs of relief. I momentarily worried about how I was going to look when Wayne finally clapped eyes on me, and whether he’d be so keen to rescue me after he saw how I looked after three days on a whaling ship, without access to hair and make-up facilities. I’d had showers, but really what I needed was a decent facial and a whole suite of hair products.

  Anyway, I felt kind of pathetic for crying, and wondered what the hard-ass crew would think of me. As if their opinion could get any lower. Or mattered. But then I looked over at the three sailors guarding us and realized they had all started crying too.

  And at that precise moment, Tommy came running into our enclosure, threw his arms around me, and sobbed great, big, wet sobs of joy and relief all over me too. ‘I come too, I come too,’ he was yelling into my face. ‘We be great team, you and me. Don’t worry, I have citizenship. I come too?’

  It must have been the magic of the moment, or the effect of someone else letting go of their dignity to do me a good deed. Because there was no way I was saying no to him right now. To this beautiful boy who had been so sweet to me.

  ‘Tommy,’ I said, ‘I’m not going anywhere without you, baby.’

  I can’t remember exactly how it happened, but somehow we got from one ship to the other — all five of us, although a part of me was tempted to tell Wayne and the others to leave the other four behind, for displaying unforgivable cowardice in the face of El Capitan. But hey, who am I kidding? I would have done the same, I’m sure.

  Actually, I guess there were six of us, with Tommy.

  And suddenly, there I was, standing on the rescue boat with Wayne and the others. And I couldn’t help noticing as I’d boarded that the boat was called The Rocket. I kind of suspected it wasn’t just because it was fast, although it did look kind of speedy.

  Everyone was jumping around and squealing and hugging. In all the excitement, no one really questioned what Tommy was doing along for the ride. And for his part, Tommy was hugging and kissing and squealing like he had been held at gunpoint too, rather than being the gun holder. Oh yeah, and smiling at the camera — it looked like Emmy had managed to get CNN along for the ride.

  How it went down

  We found out later that our little incident had caused quite the diplomatic furore back home, and that the wheels of state had been completely paralysed in the process. Apparently, there had been public outrage across the US as CNN syndicated the images and story around the country and the globe. But a US response had been stymied by fears about the impacts on trading relations, jurisdictional issues and murky legalities.

  Great, huh?

  Good to know the government can move at lightning speed anytime the stock market has a conniption, but God forbid it take less than a week to decide what to do ab
out five of its citizens being held by homicidal maniacs at sea. Much later, when it was all over, I got really cross about being deserted by our government as comprehensively as they desert a thousand dead whales every year.

  Anyway, apparently this is what had happened.

  Wayne was shaving, half listening to CNN, when he heard the news of our capture. He’d already learned that I’d taken off to cooler climes after tracking down Mom and Dad when I hadn’t answered his calls the day after our rendezvous. He was worried I’d gone off to get married again, and, in his words, he ‘wasn’t having a bar of it.’

  Anyway, so he’d been standing at the bathroom sink, trying to work out what to do about my disappearing act, when he heard the CNN report. He’d gone straight over to Mom and Dad’s where a Murphy family emergency meeting was already underway. Even though I wasn’t there, I could imagine the scene. We’ve already established my eccentric bunch would be no good in a disaster. Each focused on their own part in the tragedy, and too angst-ridden to pull together in any kind of coherent way.

  I can imagine Emmy screaming incoherently at the whaling industry, the government, and anyone with a suggestion about what to do. And at me, too, for being a ‘demented bitch for going in the first place’ — she told me later this was her view on the whole expedition. She didn’t want me to think just because she’d come to help rescue me, she approved. And I could imagine Luke and Dick, trying to out-military each other and talking in stupid acronyms no one else would get, while simultaneously working out what they would wear should a rescue mission actually eventuate. And Mom, telling war stories of her own adventures, beside which the perils of capture at sea pale into insignificance.

  Yep, I can just imagine the chaos. I swear I’d be floating on the Southern Ocean forever if Wayne hadn’t arrived to whip them into shape and save the day. You know by now that Wayne is good at everything, and you can now add ‘organizing my sad clan into some semblance of a rescue outfit’ to the list.

  Luke told me later that Wayne had been like some famous wartime General. He’d arrived and been straight down to business. He started by collecting together all the intelligence that people had variously been able to glean. Apparently he’d been quite skilled at gently but firmly keeping them focused on the task at hand when they would wander off into some irrelevant tangent.

  Next, he established what resources they had at their disposal for some kind of intervention. Luke was a tactical expert, good at organizing the details of covert missions. Dick’s area was tech stuff and satellite navigation. Esteban had a whole lot of shady contacts through which he could almost immediately procure the required visas and passes. Mom could get information out of people more skilfully than a CIA interrogator. And Emmy had a zillion media contacts she’d already started working to drum up public outrage.

  Within twelve hours it had become clear, through Mom and Emmy’s efforts, that any government response was going to be very slow coming. Wayne had prepared a contingency plan just in case. It involved using Luke and Dick’s skills to pinpoint the whaling ship and work out how to get to it, Esteban’s dodgy networks to get them there legally, and Wayne’s fleet for transport. The idea was to leave immediately, with Mom and Emmy staying behind to care for Eve and maintain the communications center.

  Apparently, the guys didn’t have much of a clue what they were going to do when they got to me, except that Esteban later confided they were all prepared for bribery, should it be required.

  The plan to mount an expedition had been Wayne’s. But as soon as Emmy heard about the backroom role that had been planned for her, she had different ideas. I heard later from Wayne that her exact words to him had been, ‘Don’t think you’re leaving me behind because I’m a woman, you sexist pig. If you don’t bring me with you, I’ll make sure my sister never puts out for you again. If she ever gets off that ship, that is.’

  So, of course, she had come.

  And, in the end, she had been the vital link. It had been her relationship with Kenzo that had made the whole thing end so well.

  ***

  Well, I should say everyone was jumping around except three of us.

  Wayne, Emmy and me.

  I’d hugged and kissed Esteban, Luke and Dick as soon as we’d boarded. But before I’d even had a chance to talk to her, I noticed that Emmy had slipped away under cover of the cacophony, and boarded the whaling boat.

  I saw her standing on its freezing deck, face to face with El Capitan. She was bundled up in a grey overcoat and, as she stood there, she seemed tiny and somehow otherworldly. It was impossible to know — or even guess — what they were talking about, but just before she turned to leave, I saw her put her hand up to the side of his face and touch his sideburn. Lightly. He reached up and captured her fingers in his hand and brought them to his lips. So briefly. It looked like goodbye in mime. Like a serious goodbye. A forever goodbye. Worthy of Alyssa St James. And it looked really freaking sad.

  As I caught the stolen moment, I again had a strong sense of how we never really know people. Not all of the bits of them. We just see different facets at different times. And maybe we only get to see some facets of ourselves until certain things happen to us, too. I guess Emmy knew a side of El Capitan that we hadn’t seen. And maybe talking with him, getting to know him, had revealed a part of herself she hadn’t known was there either.

  But while they were saying goodbye, genteel-style, I was face-to-face with Wayne, and neither of us were joining in the jumping around.

  We were very, very still. I cut to the chase.

  ‘Are you pissed at me?’ I didn’t know what to expect.

  He regarded me quizzically, then burst out laughing. ‘You are some piece of work, Rocket,’ he finally spat out through these great, big belly laughs. ‘Of course I’m pissed at you. I’m standing here trying to decide whether to strangle you, or hug you. I’m so unbelievably relieved that you’re okay, and so I can’t work out why I want to throw you overboard at the same time.’

  God, why were we always so honest with each other? Couldn’t he just say ‘no’?

  ‘Look, Wayne,’ I started, ‘I’m sorry.’

  I grabbed his hand, and its solid warmth transported me to the night we had together, just before I left. I imagined him when he had found out I’d gone. Again. My face burned and my hands shook. I visualized Eve, and how close I had come to getting hurt, and leaving her without a Mommy.

  I could hear the tremulous shame in my voice. ‘I shouldn’t have done this. I’ve caused everyone so much trouble. You all must have been so worried, and all the trouble you had to go to…’ Even as I said it, I felt the tears start to come, hot and stinging at the back of my eyes.

  Wayne just looked at me like I was an alien. You know, from Mars, not Puerto Rico. ‘Don’t be stupid, Rocket,’ he said. ‘I’m not mad at you for coming.’

  I looked at him, at those crinkly eyes of his. He reached up and held my shoulders, and shook me, just a little. ‘I’m mad at you for pissing off on me after our night together. For not telling me what was going on, what you were going to do. I thought… I thought you were gone again. I thought that was the end of it and I wouldn’t see you for another bloody five years. This,’ he gestured at the ocean, encompassing the rescue boat, the whaling boat and the whole wide expanse of freezing sea with one sweep of his big, hairy arm, ‘this was exactly the right thing for you to do. Of course it was. If it felt right, if it moved you, that’s what you do. What you always do. That’s what you have to do.’

  I watched his lips but couldn’t make my brain understand what he was saying. Really?

  ‘But…’ I stammered. ‘But I told you I’d cleaned up my act, remember? And I could tell you were impressed. No more jail time?’

  ‘Look, love,’ he went on. ‘Obviously I don’t want to see you get arrested, but I’m not trying to change you.’ He smiled this wicked smile. ‘As long as they have conjugal visits in prison…’

  At this, Dick piped up from be
hind us. I hadn’t noticed anyone except Wayne after the initial hugs and kisses, but now I saw them – Luke, Dick, Esteban, and Tommy — gathered in a little semi-circle around us. Listening to every word.

  Dick had obviously decided he needed to intervene.

  ‘Ah,’ he stammered.

  Even from that first syllable, I could tell Dick had a crush on Wayne. Already. There goes another one. This man really is some piece of work. I’ve never met anyone who doesn’t fall under his spell almost immediately.

  What chance did I ever stand?

  ‘Technically, Wayne,’ Dick went on, ‘conjugal rights only apply if you’re married.’

  ‘Excellent idea!’ Wayne pulled something from his pocket with a flourish, and then, before my poor, overworked brain could catch up, he was down on one knee on the cold, slippery deck, holding my hand and presenting a small, red box with his other hand. It was open, and nestled inside was a perfect pink teardrop affixed on a band of white gold. Even before my brain could compute that he was asking me to marry him, my ethics were objecting. Wayne could read the problem on my face.

  ‘Now don’t start, Rocket,’ he admonished me. ‘Yes, it’s a diamond. But it’s an argyle diamond, from Perth, Australia. I can guarantee no children were injured, no conflicts supported, in its mining. I went there to get it myself. Fifteen years ago.’

  At this, Tommy started crying noisily, and swooned, and Luke and Dick had to catch him. Oh, for God’s sake, this kid is going to be a serious limelight-stealer. As if I don’t already have enough of those in my life.

  ‘So you want to get married?’ I just wanted to make sure.

  ‘Yes,’ he agreed cheerfully.

  ‘You wanted to get married fifteen years ago.’ I was having trouble connecting it.

  ‘Uh-huh,’ he confirmed.

  ‘You’ve been carrying that damn ring around for fifteen years without telling me.’