Island Life Sentence

by Carrie Jo Howe

  Or stop at a crosswalk with AARP’s contribution to the Playboy channel.

  Parts hung low and loose with easy access for a 50-pound dog.

  Peg pushed and shoved her way through the painted sweat. Glitter from strangers’ bodies adhered to her skin.

  Was that boob glitter? Don’t think about it… keep going… can’t be late…

  She saw a tiny opening in the crowd and urged Nipper in that direction. A drunken pirate staggered up to her, naked from the waist down except for an impressively sized prosthetic penis dangling from his pelvis. At the very end of this swashbuckling schwanz hung a shiny silver hook. He stopped short directly in her path and swayed a bit.

  He leaned close to her face with his stenchy, boozy breath. “Wanna dansss doggie syle… ummm… style?” He laughed. “Arrrrr… thassa good wun… get it? Doggie?”

  Peg gag-reflexed and backed away. “No, thank you. I’m late for the parade.”

  He nasty-breathed closer to her. “Oh, c’mon, yur dog likes me.” Nipper gnawed at chunks of something crusted on the pirate’s boots.

  “No, really.” Peg turned her face away.

  Raising his arms above his head, he ballerina-twirled, round and round he went. His penis hook flew up and gyrated with him. It gained considerable speed and caught on Peg’s leash, linking Peg and the pirate in an unwanted pirouette.

  “Ahhhh… stop… I have to go.”

  The pirate stopped moving and put his hands on her shoulders. They both looked down to see his erect hook attached to her.

  Peg yelled and jerked herself away and ran as fast as the crowds would let her, Nipper at her heels. Dodging and weaving through the bodies, she slowed when she was sure the pirate was out of sight. She looked down to check on Nipper.

  “Nipper, are you all right?” The dog wagged his tail, happily sniffing the pirate’s false manhood still firmly connected to her leash.

  “Achhhh. Oh my God. Gross.” Cringing, she used her thumb and index finger to pluck it off and flick it away. Thudding to the ground, the hook accessory clanged on the concrete. The dog leapt for it and Peg pulled him back.

  “Nipper, come on. We’re late. Randolph’s gonna be so mad. What time is it?” She lifted her snap-flap for her phone.

  No phone.

  Phone gone.

  “Noooooo. Where’s my phone?” she wailed. No one noticed. She pounded her hands on her head.

  Peg turned in the direction where she thought she had been. But the crowds had grown. She couldn’t see past the technicolored skin of the masses. With no concept of her whereabouts, she frantically searched.

  Where WERE we? Where ARE we? I can’t tell… too confusing…

  Creeping along the ground, she saw many disgusting things – but no phone. It was gone. She stood up, gathered her bearings and regrouped.

  Okay… phone’s gone… horrible… don’t freak out… gotta find that float…

  A woman wearing a dog collar and leash strode by.

  Another dog-float person…

  Peg caught hold of her arm. “I’m lost and need to find my friend and his float,” Peg yelled over the crowd noise.

  “NO INGLÉS,” the dog-collared woman yelled back.

  “I’m LOST,” Peg yelled even louder, then pointed first to the woman’s dog collar, then to her own.

  The woman smiled and motioned for Peg to follow her.

  Peg and Nipper traipsed behind the woman through the teeming rabble. She wound her way in and out of crowded small streets and alleys. The dog-collared woman seemed sure of herself and Peg was not in a position to question.

  The parade is over by now… I’ve no way to contact Randolph.

  She and Nipper followed until the woman stopped and pointed to a hotel. The street was packed with costumed, semi-costumed and pretty-much-naked people everywhere. The dog-collared woman turned to face Peg and seemed surprised when she saw Nipper. She shrugged her shoulders then turned away, disappearing into the crowd.

  A hotel? Maybe this is where the dog float ended… or started. Where am I?

  Nipper led the way into the hotel lobby. The sign said Fantasy Fest Stations. A giant man bound with chains attached to his nipples, latex bustier and a studded collar shuffled up to Peg.

  “Can I help you?” His booming voice fit his appearance. His chains jingled when he bent down to pet Nipper.

  “Yes, please. You see, my husband and I moved here after we sold the business, then he left to help Cuba and I haven’t been able to talk to him, and my friend came and got hit on the head with a coconut and life-flighted out and I don’t know where she is and my new friend suggested I go on the dog float with him, and I overslept and couldn’t find the float… he’s gonna be so mad… then a pirate made me dance, and his… well… hook… got caught on me and I lost my phone…”

  The large man’s mouth gaped.

  “So… you see… a woman with a dog collar who didn’t speak English,” Peg pointed to her own dog collar, “took pity on me and brought me here to find the dog float.” She took a breath. “Do you know Randolph, by any chance? Or Lulu, his dog?”

  He stared. “Oh. Uh. I’m from Miami. I don’t know anyone. I come down on one of the big Fantasy Fest buses. These are the Fetish Stations.” He continued in a scolding voice, “But no dogs.” He looked disgusted.

  “The what? The fetish? What are you talking about?”

  “Pick one.” The humongous man’s arm jangled as it pointed to various signs around the room. Nipper licked the giant man’s clean-shaven legs through his fishnet stockings, and the man let out a surprisingly high-pitched squeal. “Oooo, that tickles.”

  Peg pulled on Nipper’s leash. Her eyes followed the path of the chained arm: the Dungeon of Dark Secrets, the Kinky Couples, the Den of Desire.

  A three-foot-tall man dressed in Daisy Duke jean shorts noticed her looking about and said, “Hey, Dog Lady, you can take me for a walk anytime.” He barked a couple of times and walked away laughing to himself.

  Peg’s legs weakened and she felt faint. “I gotta get out of here.” Yanking Nipper away from the giggling giant, she whirled around. Her snap-flaps flipped in the air. Once out of the door, she realized she had no idea where she was. Who would give her directions? The leprechaun with nipple shamrocks or the pot-smoking flight attendant with “mile high” tattooed on his butt?

  She and Nipper dragged themselves through the town until they happened upon a familiar street.

  Okay… okay… gonna be okay… no phone… but I can email… I’ll apologize with email… as soon as we get home… I’ll apologize… again…

  They walked under the winking stars, the light breeze hinting of the cooler air to come. Under other conditions, it would have been considered a lovely Caribbean night.

  Wasting no time when they got home, Peg opened her laptop to begin her apologies. Instead, she was instantly greeted by an angry email from Randolph.

  Email from Randolph

  I’ve left tons of text messages and voicemails. I held the float for you as long as I could, but since you were a no-show I’m glad I didn’t wait any longer. I have no idea what happened to you tonight, but this was a big deal for me and you RUINED it. The Parade Committee is mad at me for delaying the procession. Going against all of my standards, I was forced to allow the sterile French Bulldogs to take the empty spot. It was a total embarrassment. I’m done babysitting you. As far as I’m concerned you are on your own.

  The words stung. Peg hovered her fingers over the keyboard to begin her response, paused, then slowly closed the lid.

  What’s the point? The truth will make him madder. He’s right… I’m on my own.

  Peg unleashed the collar from her neck and peeled off the remnants of the night. She tossed her clothes in the garbage can. Her big toes throbbed from flip-flopping. Her scalp ached from the pigtail. She turned on the shower, stepped in and knelt on the tile floor. The tiny sparkles of glitter shimmered in the water around the drain. Nipper joined her in
the bathroom and glanced at her through the glass shower door.

  “How you doin’, my only friend?” Peg’s voice echoed from the bottom of the shower stall.

  He hunched over the rug by the sink, hunkered down – and barfed.

  Cuba Crisis

  Barking wildly, Nipper dashed down the stairs. Seconds later he was back up again, leaping on and off the bed. When that had no effect, he leapt on and off Peg’s stomach as she lay flat on her back under the covers.

  “Nipp, it’s not even noon yet. Go back to sleep.” Peg lifted her foggy head from the pillow. A drool stain covered a large section of the pillowcase. “Nipper, come here.” She sat up and patted the bed next to her.

  The dog’s eyes were crazed. He raced to the front door, his shrill bark increasing in volume and mania. Peg could just make out a knocking sound. “Nipper, it’s probably the mailman. It’s not that exciting. Please stop barking. Honestly, I think my ears are bleeding.”

  She covered her ears and sat up in bed, swinging her feet over the side. Her tee shirt crinkled in her stomach creases, turning its embossed photo of Nipper as a puppy into a freakish Ripley’s Believe it or Not candidate. Walking over to the doorway, she purposely avoided eye contact with her mirrored self. The dog danced on his hind legs, sheep-herding her down the stairs and to the front door.

  “Nipper. Calm down. Okay. Okay. I can’t answer the door with you leaping all over me.” Peg opened the door a tiny crack and peeked out. The dog saw the sliver of light, shoved his pointy nose into the opening, and with one great burst of energy, he barreled out the door and into the arms of the man standing on the front porch.

  Peg’s muscles jellied.

  “Clark?”

  “Surprise.” Clark crouched on his haunches, while petting and hugging the dog. Nipper overpowered him and Clark fell backward on his butt. “Whoa there, buddy.” He pushed Nipper’s tongue away from his mouth, “Good to see you too.”

  Dumbstruck, Peg’s mouth gaped. She placed both of her hands on the top of her head in shock. Chunks of glitter tumbled on the ground from her matted hair.

  Reality set in. “Oh my God, oh my God.” Tears streamed down her face. She dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around the man-dog melee. Her butt cheeks exposed themselves streetward in the giant fold-over embrace. A man, a vizsla and a half-naked woman rolled around on the front porch. None of the passersby gave it a second look.

  Peg led her husband into the house, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were coming home. I should be so mad at you but I’ve had a terrible time of it. Trudy has disappeared, but I think she’s all right… I just don’t know where she is. Randolph is mad at me because I ruined his dog float at the Fantasy Fest Parade. I hope you get to meet Randolph, but I’m not sure he’ll speak to me ever again… so…”

  Clark put his finger to her lips. “First of all,” he nuzzled her neck, “before we do any more talking,” he nibbled her earlobe, “why don’t we see if that tiny Key West shower,” he lifted her shirt, “fits two people.”

  I better brush my teeth.

  “I’ll go make us some coffee.” In an agile move, Clark jumped out of bed and into his briefs. He turned his head sideways to catch a glimpse of his six-pack abs in the dresser mirror.

  “Coffee in the late afternoon? So sinful.” She admired the sight of her husband in his tight-fitting briefs. “I like your undies. I thought it was hard to get new clothing in Cuba.” Peg leaned across the bed and snapped the waistband of his tighty-whities as he picked up his khaki shorts from the floor.

  He bent down and kissed her. “Just like the rum and sugar – all government issued.” Leaving the room he said, “You stay up here and relax. It’s still with cream and sugar, right?”

  “We call it con leche and azucar here,” Peg called after him as he descended the stairs.

  Peg leisurely got out of bed and walked into the bathroom. She was glad that she’d had the wherewithal to do a thorough bathroom clean-up last night. She tied her hair into a stylish knot, applied skin cream, face powder and a light lipstick. Slipping into a Chinese silk bathrobe, she admired the pale pink color against her skin. She tied the belt loosely around her waist.

  Clark was sitting at the kitchen counter staring at his computer screen. He closed the lid. “Your coffee, senorita.” He handed her a steaming cup.

  Peg took a careful sip then set the cup down. Settling into Clark’s lap, she picked some glitter off his arm. “I’m glad you’re back. I’m sorry for being such a pest. The lack of communication and the heat and the newness of everything… well… just got to me.” Her eyes welled up.

  Clark smiled a swarthy grin and stroked her thigh under her bathrobe. “I have a gift for you.” He handed her a small painted wooden box. “This was carved by a local Cuban craftsman.”

  “Oh, Clark, it’s lovely.” She traced the engraved heart shape on the top of the box with her finger. “I love all of the little drawers and compartments… very intricate.”

  “When I saw it, I thought of you – beautiful and–” He hesitated.

  “Lots of room for storage?” Peg laughed and patted her mid-section.

  “No – perfectly constructed.” He kissed her.

  “I have so much to tell you. I’m so worried about Trudy–”

  Clark’s phone buzzed. The screen said unknown number. He sideways-glanced, but ignored it.

  The dog barked at a lizard outside the back door window. Clark shifted Peg off of his lap and walked over to open the door. Nipper kangaroo-hopped onto the deck onto the unsuspecting reptile.

  Clark laughed at a long green tail sticking out of the dog’s mouth. “He’s a good hunter now. And speaking of food, I’m starving. Let’s go get something to eat.”

  Peg shrieked, “Nipper, no.” She ran to the dog and pried open his mouth, allowing the lizard to drop to the ground and slither between the deck planks. “There are so many poisonous things here. We already had one horrible incident with a giant frog from HELL… it was–”

  Clark cut her off. “I could eat a giant frog right about now.” He pulled a shirt over his head. “You go get dressed, and we’ll walk to Salute on the Beach. I love their yellowtail snapper.”

  “Umm, right. Good.” Peg leaned over Nipper, looking into his mouth. “Are you hiding anything that I should know about?”

  The dog wagged his tail innocently.

  Clark put his phone in his pocket.

  The Atlantic Ocean sucked some of the air’s humidity back into the water. The breeze was calm. The margaritas were pale, green and cold.

  “Coffee and a margarita… perfect start to the day’s diet.” Peg held up her glass. “Cheers.”

  Clark cheersed then chugged his beverage. He waved at the waiter to bring two more.

  “Okay. Wow.” Peg wide-eyed the green glasses lined up on the table. “I should eat a piece of bread or something.” She picked up a warm slice from the basket. “Is everything all right? I mean, with us?”

  “Yes. Yes, most definitely.” Clark clasped her hand across the table. “We’re stronger than ever because we’re a team. I mean, look at us – we buy and sell companies together.”

  Peg inhaled and took a big swig of her drink. “Okaaay.”

  “You are my favorite CFO and the smartest woman I know. I couldn’t have done any of the finances without you.” Clark stared, unblinking.

  Peg half-laughed, “I guess that’s a good thing. I’d kinda rather hear that you think I’m beautiful and that you love me more than anything in the world.”

  “Of course you are and of course I do.” Clark kissed the top of her hand and then patted it. “But your financial savvy is what has allowed us to have the life we live today – in the place where we live.” He motioned around the restaurant’s open-air room toward the ocean.

  “Well, it’s the place that I live… by myself. So I’m thinking that I wish I was worse with numbers.”

  “I’ll return soon – to stay. I promise
. But I have a request for you. I’d like to go back to our buyer and accept the lump sum distribution from the sale of the company. They said that we could renegotiate those terms if we wanted to – that it would always be an option. I think it’s a good idea.” Clark squeezed her hand.

  “What? Why would we do that? We make considerably more money over time with the ten-year distribution. Why would we cut our noses off like that?” Peg moved her hand.

  “We used the first distribution to buy the house.” Clark covered her hand with his.

  Peg countered, “Your idea to buy the house.”

  “Your idea to pay cash.” Clark’s jaw tensed.

  “Yes, because I hate mortgage payments,” Peg hissed back.

  Clark’s voice calmed. “But now we have less to live on. And we don’t have to have less to live on if we do the lump sum payment.” Clark released her hands to grab more drinks from the waiter.

  “We’d have plenty to live on if you’d get paid real money on your project and stopped cashing checks from our account every week.” Peg clasped her hands in her lap.

  Clark held his hands up surrender-style. “Right, I know, I know. Forget about what I just said. What I mean is I think that we should use the lump sum payout to buy a business in Key West. You pick the investment. You always make the right decisions. You can name it Peg’s Company.” Clark scooted his chair next to hers.

  “Really. We just sold a business.”

  “Yes, and look how well we did – we have a learning curve going.”

  “Umm, I’ll have to think about it.” Tilting her head, she watched a rooster chase two chickens around the orchid garden next to the restaurant gate. “I do miss running a company.” She threw a piece of bread towards the rooster to give the chickens a chance to escape. “Maybe a business with no overheads and minimal investment.”

  “Yes. Sure. Whatever you want. Our money will make money and you’ll have a project of your own.” Clark looked hopeful.

  Both Savages drank.

  Clark leaned his head close to hers. “You think about it. We can talk at the house after dinner.”