Adventures In A Pair-A-Dice

by Terry Michael Peters

  “Sounds good. I could use a beer.”

  We headed out towards the main road. Once we reach the main road I realized that the only restaurant close by was Drew’s. That was where Joseph had suggested we go for breakfast.

  “You mean Drew’s restaurant?”

  “Yes,” he replied. “You been there?”

  “We had breakfast there a while back.”

  “Well, they‘ve got a great seafood dinner there, as well,” he said.

  “Just need a beer,” Tom told him.

  When we reached Drew’s, the restaurant was about half full with touristy looking people all with happy vacationing faces. We, on the other hand, looked a bit disheveled and out of place.

  As we walked in I heard someone call out “Hey, Bruce!”

  As I turned I could see a man walking in our direction. He came up and shook Bruce’s hand and mentioned that he hadn’t seen him in a while and wanted to know if everything was ok.

  “Yeah, I’ve been away a bit for business,” Bruce told him.

  “Well, be seated and I’ll be right with you.”

  “Who’s that?” I asked.

  “That’s Andy. He owns the place.”

  It was easy to reason that here on an island, even one as large as St. Maarten, that if you hung around long enough people would get to know you.

  As we sat down a nice looking young woman asked what we would like to drink. I could tell she was French by her accent and, probably like Evonne and Ava, here on the island for a working adventure.

  One thing that amazed me was the fact that American beer was more expensive in the islands than the imported beer. Here, though, American beer was the import, I reasoned. We were all hungry and decided we might as well eat. While on our second round of beers and still waiting for the meals to be served, I took notice to a driver dropping off some people at the front of the restaurant.

  I got up quickly from the table saying I’d be right back. I exited the restaurant before the driver could drive away. His fare was two couples and as one of the men was handing the driver the cash, I walked up and asked if we could get a ride into Philipsburg.

  “Ya, mon, you ready?” he asked me.

  “Well, we’re in the middle of our meal right now but it won’t be too long.”

  “Look, mon, big plane come in soon and many people lookin’ for ride.”

  The thing about island life is that, unlike back in the States where you could just pick up a phone and call somebody, here, the only phones were in town at the phone center. Cabs hung out at the busy places. Drew’s was not a busy place and there were no cabs hanging out.

  “Ok,” I said as I reached in my pocket. “Will this keep you here till we’re done eating?” I handed him a hundred dollar bill.

  “Oh, mon.”

  I could tell he was not impressed. In the islands, as tourism grew so did the opportunities for those living there. Tourism was growing faster than the abilities of the local officials to regulate a lot of that growth.

  Cab drivers were largely over looked and many of the streetwise young men growing up there found ways of purchasing cars and instead of robbing the tourists with guns they used their cars and very unregulated cab fares to take money from the unsuspecting vacationers.

  “Look, man, I know what the cost is to get around this island in a cab,” I told him.

  “You know Joseph?” I asked him.

  “Joseph?” he replied. “I know many Josephs.”

  “Joseph and his brother Brian,” I added.

  “Ah, yeah, I know them two boys.”

  “Hey,” he said as he pulled his long dreadlocks back over his shoulders, “You that American with the fancy boat over dare in Marigot?”

  “That’s right,” I said.

  “Oh, mon, Joseph he speak highly of you, mon.”

  “Well, do you know where he’s at right now,” I asked him.

  “Ya, mon, he be home.”

  “Look,” I said, “if you’re going back to the airport you’ll be passing pretty close to where he lives. Stop there and tell him to come here right away.”

  I handed him the hundred dollars and I could see that nothing else needed to be said. He was more than happy with the money and I knew that Joseph was one of the locals that had the respect of many of his peers living there on St. Maarten. I also knew that Joseph had agreed not to drive fares as long as he was working with us.

  By the time I got back inside, our meals had been served and both Bruce and Tom were wasting no time waiting for me. When we first sat down Bruce had started asking Tom and me a lot of questions about our venture into his whereabouts. After the second or third unanswered question, I looked him in the face and said “Look, we’ve all had a rough day. I’ll explain everything to you tomorrow. Everything,” I said forcefully. “Now, let’s just eat and unwind.”

  For Tom and me it had been one of our heavier days. Between the airplane landings and the scenario that played out at Bishop’s house, we were spent. I was hopeful that it could have all gone down without a shot being fired but real early in I realized what it was going to take dealing with Bishop’s guys. The rest of the time there at the table was pretty quiet. I think we were all just reflecting on how fortunate we were for a lot of reasons. A finished meal and another couple rounds of beer later, I noticed Joseph’s car pull up out front.

  “Ok,” I said. “Joseph’s out front, time to go.”

  We complimented Andy on the way out for our meals and headed out to where Joseph had parked. He was just getting out of his car as we came out through the door of the restaurant.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Hey, mon, I see everything going well for you,” Joseph replied.

  Tom laughed.

  “Yeah, pretty much,” I replied. “We need a ride to a nice hotel in Philipsburg.”

  “Ok, I know a nice hotel,” he informed us.

  Again, the cab ride was without much conversation with the exception of Joseph telling us about moving Ava and Evonne into their new home.

  “Mon, those girls got a lot of stuff,” he informed us.

  Apparently it took three trips from the dock to get all their stuff to the house they would be sharing.

  “Well, you know women,” I said.

  I knew very well. It seemed that from my experience with Linda that she couldn’t go anywhere without taking a lot of stuff and I was always amazed just how much she could pack into any suitcase. Linda, I thought, I’m going to have to get in touch with her tomorrow.

  It was near midnight by the time we reached the hotel. It was summer season and, although there were tourists on the island, it wasn’t enough to overwhelm the availability of a room.

  After paying for an adjoining room arrangement, we headed up in the elevator for the comfort of some air conditioning, a shower and then a comfortable bed. God, it seemed like a long time since I had actually slept in a real bed. Although the boat accommodations were comfortable it still wasn’t like a real bed.

  Tom offered to sleep in the second bed in the same suite with Bruce so he could make sure he didn’t do anything stupid like get up and leave. I was uneasy about Bruce and wasn’t sure if now, back on St. Maarten, he wouldn’t decide to hide somewhere in fear of Bishop’s retaliation.

  My concern was to hold him long enough to get his father down here and put them together. Then our job would be done. All night the day’s events just kept playing out in my mind and I did not sleep much, if at all. Before I knew it, Tom was rapping his knuckles on the door of the bedroom.

  “Yeah,” I yelled out. “I’ll be right with you.”

  I was still exhausted but knew there was too much running through my mind and a few more hours in bed would produce no more sleep. I got up and headed for the shower. It was now seven in the morning and, as I enjoyed a shower that only an expensive hotel could offer, I put together the plan of the day.

  I had asked Joseph to meet us there at nine. I wanted to first go to the phone
center, try to call Bruce’s father and then put in a call to Linda. Depending on my conversation with Mr. Saxton, I would determine our next move. Tom once again rapped on the door

  “Yeah,” I said. “I’m almost ready.”

  “Breakfast,” he said.

  “Yeah, that sounds good!” I yelled out. “I’ll meet you downstairs in the restaurant.”

  “No, I got it here,” he replied.

  I went over and opened the door to find Tom and Bruce both eating breakfast that had been delivered by room service. Damn, I thought, this is surely going to be hard to give up. For the past month, hell, for the last couple of months, we had gotten pretty comfortable with having money even if it belonged to Bruce and Mr. Saxton.

  Over breakfast it was decided that Tom would stay with Bruce there at the hotel while I went and did what had to be done. Like clockwork, Joseph was there at the hotel just before nine.

  “Good morning,” I offered up.

  “Where to?” he asked.

  “The phone center, please.”

  “Sure, mon.”

  Joseph was part of the Rastafarian culture there on the island. Most were not Jamaican but grew up attending French or Dutch schools. They were, for the most part, either of French or Dutch decent. I could tell that Joseph was well respected amongst his Rastafarian peers by the respect they showed him every time we would see him meet with others he knew.

  Once at the phone center, I was able to reach Mr. Saxton with the third of seven phone numbers he had given to us for reaching him. I wasn’t about to leave a message with anyone before going through the list of all seven phone numbers. He was happy to hear my voice and asked how things went. When I told him that Bruce was with me he instantly asked to speak with him.

  “Well, sir, he’s back at the hotel with Tom. I think you should come down here.”

  “Is something wrong?” he asked with a concerned tone in his voice.

  “No, sir, I assure you everything is fine. When do you think you can get down here?” I asked.

  “Today,” he said. “I can catch a flight out right away.”

  “That’s great,” I said. “We’re staying at the Pasanggrahan Hotel.”

  “Fine,” he added.

  Not knowing the scheduling out of Lauderdale or Miami he wasn’t sure what time he would arrive but agreed to catch a cab from the airport to the hotel and meet up with us.

  “Ok, sir, that sounds like a plan.”

  Before hanging up he thanked me for all our efforts. When he mentioned something about not being able to thank us enough, I was prompted to ask him if we still had a deal.

  “Why, of course,” he insisted. “I have a lot of money but only one son.”

  “Sounds good, sir. I’ll see you when you get here.”

  Next, I tried a call to Linda’s office. She was there and excited to hear my voice.

  “When will you be back?” she asked.

  “Soon,” I assured her. “We found Bruce and his father will be here today or tomorrow. Then we’re done and we will be back.”

  “No longer than a few days,” I promised her.

  She never even brought up the fact that I was not good at keeping my promises. She sounded happy and that pleased me.

  “What you smiling about?” Joseph asked as I walked back out of the phone center.

  “I’m just happy, man,” I said.

  Despite still being exhausted, I was feeling a sense of satisfaction. I did believe that Bishop would seek retribution but reasoned that if we could get back to the States first, he would have to come after us. Once I put Bruce and his father together, Bruce would be on his own.

  “Where to now?” Joseph wanted to know.

  “Back to the airport. I have to get those duffel bags out of the plane.”

  The night before, I had left all three of the duffel bags inside the airplane. The only thing I took out were the three rolls of film, the photos and Bruce’s passport which were all now back in the hotel room.

  I wanted to retrieve the guns that I had left in the plane. Pulling up next to the airplane I could see nothing had changed. I pulled the key out of my pocket and went to unlock the door.

  “What that foul smell?” Joseph asked as he backed away from the plane.

  “You got a dead body in those bags?”

  That’s when it dawned on me that we had left that fifth piece of meat inside one of the bags. It was early summer in the islands and near high noon. The inside of the cabin must have been 120 degrees.

  “No,” I said as I started laughing.

  “What so funny?” Joseph asked still with a look of concern on his face.

  “Meat,” I said. “Dog meat.”

  “A dead dog, mon?”

  “No, it’s dog food,” I assured him. “We were feeding dogs yesterday.”

  “Dat smell too nasty to be dog food,” Joseph replied.

  Holding my breath, I reached into the back of the plane and pulled all three bags out and laid them on ground. I reached into the bag that the smell was obviously coming from and pulled out the butcher paper-wrapped piece of meat. When I unwrapped it Joseph looked at it and said that it was disgusting.

  “It’s a piece of steak,” I said.

  “I recognize it, mon, but I don’t eat that sort of thing.”

  “You’ve never had steak?” I asked,

  “No, mon, I don’t eat no meat!”

  I lobbed the meat into the bushes along the side of the runway. I decided to leave the door open on the plane when we left as the cabin smelled pretty bad and I wasn’t sure what else could be done.

  Next it was back to the marina to check on the boat. Reaching the pier, I could see Joseph’s brother Brian comfortably lounging on the back of the boat. He was talking with two tourist girls. The girls were standing on the pier and I thought it nice that, even with us gone, he respected our asking him not to allow anybody on the boat.

  “Your brother is ok,” I commented to Joseph as we approached the boat.

  “Yeah, mon, he ok.”

  “Hey, any problems?” I asked Brian when we got close enough for him to hear me.

  “Hey, where you been?”

  “Ah, we decided to get a hotel room for a couple of days,” I said.

  “Do you mind keeping an eye on the boat for a few more days?” I asked him.

  “No, mon, this easy work. I feel like I’m stealing from you.”

  “Hey, not a problem,” I assured him.

  I went below and put away the guns. Then decided I’d take the .38 with me. I knew I’d be in serious trouble if caught with it there on the island but I could also be dead without it. I grabbed a small carry bag and stashed the gun under a change of clothes I had put together for Tom and myself. Despite showering, we were both wearing yesterday’s clothes which had the sweat and dirt of our endeavor all over them.

  Before leaving the boat I squared up the money with Brian that I owed him. He thanked me and we headed back up the pier.

  “Where to now?” Joseph asked.

  “I think back to the hotel,” I said.

  “Ok, mon, hotel it is.”

  Tom was happy to see that I had thought to bring him a change of clothes.

  “Be careful with this bag,” I said as I tossed it to him.

  “Why is that?” he wanted to know.

  “The .38 is tucked inside a pair of jeans in there.”

  “Do you think we’ll need it?” Tom asked.

  “Don’t know but I don’t want to be unprepared should Bishop or his guys show up.”

  “Oh, they’ll show up,” Bruce said. “Bishop’s a heavy hitter and he won’t forgive or forget what you two guys did to him yesterday. And those dogs – they are like family to him. I can tell you he cared more about those dogs than the guys you shot yesterday.”

  “Well, first of all, keep your voice down. Secondly, we didn’t kill those dogs.”

  “That’s what you told Bishop and when I last saw them, they looked
dead to me,” Bruce said.

  “Yeah, well don’t believe everything you see or hear. We drugged the dogs, we didn’t kill them. At least I hope not,” I said shrugging my shoulders.

  “What do you mean?” Bruce asked.

  “Well, we fed them some valium by way of a steak dinner and we weren’t really sure just how much it would take to put them down. I figured each dog ate at least five to ten milligrams.

  “Oh, that would kill them,” Bruce said.

  “How do you know that?” I asked.

  “That’s enough to kill me,” he said.

  “No, that’s just a real heavy buzz,” Tom told him. They’ll be alright.” Me? I wasn’t sure.

  “Look,” I said to Bruce, “you’re here and away from being held captive and we have the three rolls of film and the pictures. So, you’re ok.”

  I didn’t believe that myself but wanted to sound convincing to Bruce. I was actually hopeful that his father could convince him to go back to the States with him. There he stood a much better chance of avoiding any retribution on Bishop’s part.

  “No, I’m not ok,” Bruce said. “Bishop’s probably on his way over here right now.”

  “Well, we’re on a French island and I don’t think Bishop will start anything with us here and risk spending his life in a French prison.”

  “One problem with that plan,” Bruce said.

  “What’s that?” I wanted to know.

  “We’re in a hotel on the Dutch side of the island.”

  Well, I thought, so much for that theory.

  “Either way,” I snapped back, “I don’t think he’ll be hasty to make any poor judgment calls. Oh, by the way, your father will be here tonight.”

  “What?” he said jumping up from the table where he had been seated.

  “Calm down,” I said. I called him a couple of hours ago and asked him to come down.”

  “Why is that?” Bruce wanted to know.

  “Part of the deal I made with your dad,” I told him.

  “This deal,” Bruce said. “Tell me about this deal.”

  “Ok,” I replied. “Sit back down and I’ll tell you how this whole thing came together.”

  Bruce sat back down and Tom and I each pulled up chairs across from him at the table.