Wreck of the Raptor

by Nicholas Harvey

  “What?” Hazel asked in friendly tone.

  “Sorry.” AJ felt a little embarrassed. “I was wondering what do you do to stay in shape. You look amazing.”

  Hazel laughed. “That’s funny coming from you, you’re the perfect girl.”

  AJ blushed and Hazel continued, “I do some martial arts, mainly jujutsu. I started it to feel more comfortable as a woman living alone, and then found I really liked it. And it was more fun than going to a gym.”

  “Wow.” AJ was impressed. “That’s cool, I don’t know much about that stuff, I did a little judo when I was a kid, but I really don’t know the differences between the styles.”

  “Jujutsu is similar to judo. It’s focused on self-defence moves, holds, throws, and ways to pin someone rather than say, karate, which is kicks and ways to attack. I know some karate too though,” Hazel explained. “But I got way too into it all a few years back. I eventually realised the competitions and events were taking away some of the fun, so I went back to just training.”

  “Bloody hell, you fought in competitions? That’s amazing.”

  Hazel waved it away. “Just local stuff, no big deal.”

  “So, what are you going to do when you go home?” AJ blurted and realised she was prying a bit much right after the words came out. “Sorry, that’s not my business, you have enough going on.”

  Hazel smiled. “It’s okay, you can ask me anything, we’re friends, right?”

  AJ felt relieved that she wasn’t the only one feeling they were becoming close over a short period of time. She felt drawn to Hazel in a way she couldn’t explain. The woman was so easy to be around and she was incredibly capable, seemingly at everything, but definitely at diving which was AJ’s world.

  “I was thinking, if you’re looking for a change of pace from the art thing, why don’t you work as a divemaster, if only for a while as you work things out?” AJ added more tentatively. “You could do it at home, or even over here, if you like it on the island.”

  Hazel looked at AJ thoughtfully, seemingly weighing her response carefully. “Funny you say that. After this morning it made me start thinking about it.” Hazel shifted her stare out across the Caribbean Sea. “I envy your life here,” she said quietly.

  AJ knew she was privileged to be able to do what she did, in the beautiful place she called home, but still she didn’t imagine someone as strong and confident as Hazel envying her.

  “Well, Reg and I are always looking for good help. The young divemasters usually do a season or two and then move on to the next cool place, so spots come up. Not that we’re the only ones here,” she added quickly. “As you’ve seen there’s plenty of dive operations to choose from.”

  Hazel smiled but AJ noticed a hint of something else in her expression. She thought it might be sadness. Or maybe she felt awkward being grilled or didn’t want to say she’d rather not work with her? She wasn’t sure.

  Hazel spoke softly. “I would love to work here, and work with you.” She stiffened slightly. “But I have some things to sort out before I could consider such a move.”

  AJ wanted to ask what she meant, but decided she’d probably pried enough.

  Chapter 25

  May 1974

  A mop of long blonde hair sprawled across the table and the sound of white powder being loudly vacuumed up through the girl’s nose could be heard over George McCrae’s ‘Rock Your Baby’ blaring over the club’s sound system. The dance floor was packed with a sea of humanity sporting every bright colour in winged shirt, flared pant, halter top, tube top, and shorts that redefined short. Whitey looked at the blonde, who couldn’t be older than twenty, as she picked her face up off the table and sat back, eyes wide, with remnants of cocaine around her nostrils. Her friend, a similar aged black girl with an impressive afro, leaned over and licked her face clean with a seductive smile towards Gabriel, who watched with a wicked grin, his white suit shimmering under the lights.

  The song finished and an MC announced that next would be DJ Jimmy Yu mixing and spinning disco sounds that would blow your socks off. Gabriel leapt up and applauded loudly along with the girls and most of the crowd in the packed club. Whitey felt old. He had no idea what was going on, or what mixing and spinning meant. He yearned for some Bachman–Turner Overdrive or those new guys, Queen – he liked them a lot.

  “Whitey, mi hermano,” Gabriel shouted enthusiastically, “this guy is the next big thing in the clubs, man, you’ll love him, this disco groove is gonna be the bomb. He’ll be in New York before you know it!”

  Whitey gave him a thumbs up and mustered a “Right on” to appease his boss.

  More dance music hammered from the club’s strained speakers, but Whitey could tell something different was happening as the DJ wove two different songs, neither of which Whitey knew, together in some kind of blend. He seemed to do it quite skilfully, Whitey thought, as he peered around the smoke-filled club, though the lights flashed and whirled making him slightly dizzy. He’d avoided most of the alcohol Gabriel had been putting in front of him, and years ago he’d decided drugs usually left him in compromised and embarrassing places. He squinted at a booth in the shadows. Shit, he thought to himself, that’s John Bonham.

  “Gabby!” Whitey reached past the two girls, who were wriggling on the couch to the music and sipping Dom Perignon from the bottle. He grabbed Gabriel’s arm. “Gabby! That’s John bloody Bonham over there,” he said, nodding his head in the direction of the booth.

  Gabriel looked over in the direction and shrugged his shoulders. “Who the hell is that?”

  Whitey was beside himself. “Who the hell is that? What do you mean, Gabby? Led bloody Zeppelin mate, John Bonham, the best drummer that ever took a bleeding breath!”

  Gabriel shrugged his shoulders again. “So? I heard Jack Nicholson is coming tonight and Liza Minnelli is over there pestering Rudy Redbeard Gallo for more blow.” Gabriel’s face lit up. “I told you man, this place is the place to be in Miami.”

  Whitey shook his head. “How come the coppers don’t raid this joint? They’d pick up half the world’s dealers and suppliers in one bust.”

  Gabriel laughed. “You kidding me? It would be a bloodbath, there’s more fire power in this hotel than in the whole of Saigon right now. The Cubans have all the Miami cops on payroll anyway, they’re not dumb enough to raid this place.” Gabriel leaned closer. “But if we ever come in here and don’t see some Columbians, or the Cubans aren’t here, then leave. You never know when someone will turn and organise a raid to grab a bigger piece of the market. That’s why we stay out of this mess.” Gabriel tapped his temple. “Gotta always be thinking, my brother.”

  Whitey nodded and sat back down as the waitress swung by in a large frilly hat and a loose shirt, with most of the buttons undone.

  “Anything I can get you Mr Cavero?” she asked, leaning over to give Gabriel a nice view of her cleavage.

  Gabriel looked around the table, which appeared to be void of drinks, as the girls finished the champagne in a final swig.

  “Two more bottles of champagne, and...” He pointed at Whitey. “Mi hermano, what can I bring you that you’ll actually drink?”

  Whitey laughed; his boss seemed like he was letting his hair down but he never missed a trick.

  “Havana Club, over ice please, my dear,” Whitey asked politely.

  “That’s Cuban rum, sir, we can’t serve Cuban rum in America,” she replied with a smile, and looked over at Gabriel.

  “Oh, of course, sorry...” Whitey began to change his order but Gabriel waved a hand in the air. “It’s okay, I’ll have one as well, my dear. See Burton and tell him it’s for me,” Gabriel added, winking at the waitress.

  She immediately nodded at the drop of the owner’s name and headed for the bar.

  Whitey glanced at his watch as he unlocked his room. Three thirty am. He dragged himself inside and heard Gabriel, with both girls in tow, fumbling with his own room key. Closing the door, he took a long deep breath. He w
as dead tired, and his head throbbed from hours of loud thumping music and breathing thick, cigarette smoke-infused air. He walked to the window and slid it open, savouring the fresh air, even though the night was still muggy and hot. As had happened frequently throughout the evening, his mind wandered back to Grand Cayman and Isabella. Not since he was a young lad in the Navy, first discovering the fairer sex, had he been so taken with a woman. Closing his eyes, he pictured her sitting across from him at dinner, her beautiful long black hair, her perfectly smooth, tanned skin that made his own skin tingle with goose bumps. Her blend of maturity and innocence. He opened his eyes as something large and weighty plummeted through his vision to a grotesque thump on the ground below. Startled, he looked down before he could stop himself. The twisted figure of a human being was lying still on the concrete patio below. A deep scarlet river eased its way downhill towards the swimming pool, faintly lit by the mood lighting surrounding the patio. A man, a living person, had just dropped to their death before his very eyes. He’d seen many things in his time, and been witness to the violence of war, but the suddenness and immediacy of a man being killed in the middle of the night, in the suburbs of a major city, in peacetime, was paralysing. Next door the window slid open, and Whitey looked over to see Gabriel, bleary eyed and shirtless, look down, then up to the floors above. He turned to Whitey.

  “Damn Cubans,” he said nonchalantly and closed his window.

  Chapter 26

  November 2019

  With the Newton moored securely at the yacht club marina, AJ found the keys Thomas had left. They’d passed Thomas just after they’d made the cut into the North Sound as he moved the RIB boat in the opposite direction back to West Bay. AJ pulled out of the car park and started along the narrow road leading back to Esterly Tibbetts Highway.

  “Where do you shop around here?” Hazel asked out of nowhere.

  AJ laughed. “Where do I shop? If you mean clothes shopping, I don’t!” She rolled her eyes. “It’s too expensive here. I get stuff from reps who come by once in a while, sale rack at the dive shops sometimes, Cost-U-Less, the island’s version of a discount superstore. Why?”

  Hazel gave her a mischievous look. “Sometimes it’s fun to buy something nice, it feels good.”

  “Well, Camana Bay is our shopping centre, it’s quite fancy, what do you need?” AJ asked.

  “Got some time?” Hazel asked. “Let’s have a ladies’ afternoon, maybe pamper ourselves a bit.”

  AJ laughed again. “Now? I stink! I haven’t showered since we came out of the water this morning.”

  Hazel waved her off. “Who cares, anyway, you don’t stink, it’s a tropical island, you’re supposed to smell like the beach and the water. Where is this Camana Bay?”

  AJ turned left at the roundabout and headed down the dual carriageway. “Couple of miles this way. But I warn you, I’m not a shopper, I’m allergic to full retail pricing.”

  Hazel grinned. “Stop, ummm…” she searched for the word she wanted in English, “fussing! Yes, stop fussing about it, we’ll have fun!”

  “Oh, I’m fussy now, am I?” AJ pretended to be insulted. “That’s nice. Fine, I’ll go shopping with you. Only because I’m dying for a coffee and there’s a decent coffee shop there.”

  Hazel smiled, and they chatted happily as AJ made the ten-minute drive to the outdoor shopping centre.

  With coffees in hand they sauntered in and out of a few clothing stores, Hazel thumbing through the racks and displays more enthusiastically than AJ. Walking into a very sophisticated clothing shop, AJ was hesitant, but Hazel shoved her into the air-conditioned, glass-fronted establishment, to a disdainful look from the elegant lady behind the counter.

  “Can I help you?” the lady managed, more politely than AJ was expecting, in an accented voice.

  “Française?” Hazel quickly responded.

  “Oui,” the lady replied in surprise.

  Hazel walked towards the lady, setting her little backpack-style handbag on the counter. The two then launched into an animated and friendly conversation that AJ’s few years of French in school couldn’t keep pace with. She wandered around the shop looking over the clothes, leaving them to enjoy conversing in their native language. After turning a couple of price tags she decided it was better not to do that anymore; she couldn’t see spending that kind of money on a piece of clothing. She’d always been a practical woman, far more interested in a useful piece of equipment than anything involving fashion. But Cayman catered to the rich and she was certain there were plenty of visitors and ex-pats living here that happily paid these prices for something they’d wear once or twice. Each to their own she thought, and mentally counted the blouses she had hanging in her wardrobe at home. A summer dress caught her eye. It was navy blue with a large paisley patterned print in reds, yellows and oranges. She held it up against her figure and looked across the room to a mirror. The sleeveless style suited her well with her tattoos and the dress was mini length, without being too short. She really liked the dress but was too scared to look at the price. She hung it back up and turned around, realising the chatter had stopped. Hazel was standing right there with a big smile. “Not a shopper, huh?”

  AJ shook her head and whispered. “No! I’m not paying these prices for anything!”

  Hazel laughed. “Come on then, let’s get out of here.”

  They headed out with a wave to the lady and Hazel looped her arm in AJ’s as they strolled away.

  “That dress was perfect for you, looked amazing.”

  AJ sighed. “It was, huh? But no way am I paying that money, it was probably the price of a wetsuit, and I need a new wetsuit more than a fancy dress.”

  “Hey there,” came a voice from the patio of a cafe they were passing. The two looked over and saw the Freemans having an afternoon drink.

  “Hello guys,” AJ replied and walked over to their table. “Enjoying your afternoon?”

  They offered the women a chair and AJ sat, still holding the coffee they’d bought earlier.

  “Like a drink?” David offered.

  “I’m fine thanks,” AJ replied, holding up her coffee cup.

  Hazel smiled and didn’t sit. “Excuse me, I think I left my phone in the last store we were in.” She started back towards the shop. “I’ll be right back.”

  “I’m excited to dive north tomorrow,” Beth said, bringing AJ’s attention back to the table.

  “Me too,” AJ replied. “We moved the boats after lunch, so we’re all set, and it was flat calm on the north side when we came around.”

  “Wonderful, it’s always a treat to dive the north wall,” Beth said happily. “Hazel said this is her first visit to the island. Where did you two meet?”

  “Here,” AJ replied, slightly confused. “We just met this week.”

  Beth laughed and looked at David. “We thought you were old friends, the two of you get along so well.”

  Hazel walked back up and AJ smiled at her. “Yeah, we do, huh?”

  Twenty minutes later Hazel and AJ were back in the van heading towards Harbour View hotel, where Hazel was staying. It was a low-key, older place that was nothing more than a handful of rooms in a couple of buildings on the water, just outside George Town. It was owned and run by a Caymanian family that had done so for years. Rooms were clean, basic, and reasonably priced, which was hard to find with an ocean view. AJ pulled into their small car park and Hazel opened the door and stepped out.

  “Fifteen minutes earlier in the morning, okay?” AJ reminded Hazel.

  “Sounds good and thanks for this afternoon, really enjoyed tagging along, and dragging you to the shopping centre,” she replied.

  AJ laughed. “Well, I had fun, so thank you.”

  “Here,” Hazel pulled something from her bag and threw it over to AJ before closing the door.

  AJ looked at the plush looking shopping bag in her lap. She opened the bag and froze when she saw the dress she’d admired inside. She stared out the front window with her jaw dro
pped open. Hazel looked back with a big smile and blew her a kiss.

  Chapter 27

  May 1974

  Whitey stirred from beneath the purple sheets to bright daylight leaking past the edge of the curtains. His head still felt dull, although he hadn’t had much to drink, despite Gabriel’s attempts. He reached to the bedside table, found his watch, and squinted to read the hands. Ten forty. He’d struggled to sleep after seeing the man on the pavement below. He had double-checked his door was locked, and even propped the wooden desk chair against the handle in case anyone came for him in the night; for what reason he had no logical idea why. But somehow it made him feel safer, despite knowing the chair or the lock wouldn’t stop anyone with ill intent. It had seemed like forever for the sirens to wail, and finally arrive outside. He guessed no one was willing, or could be troubled, to call the police after it happened. Probably found by some poor employee, leaving after their shift at the club. That person would also have the image of the broken man forever stamped in their mind.

  Whitey rolled out of bed and walked to the window. He hesitated. It’s a cruel trick the human brain loves to play, between knowing you don’t want to see, and the unstoppable curiosity that forces you to look at the car crash. Or pull a curtain back. He slowly revealed the scene below, and for a second, he thought he may have dreamed the whole event. The pool area was bustling with people, bikini-clad women sunned themselves with the shiny glow of suntan oil, and waitresses circled with trays of drinks. Whitey strained against the bright morning sun to see the place on the pavement where the body had lain. He could barely make out a hint of discolouration in the concrete as a man in black Speedos unknowingly walked across the very spot. He let the curtain fall and stepped back in a daze. What world had he managed to embroil himself in? He’d seen a few things at the end of the war, the ease with which human life could be taken away, but that was war. He didn’t know if the man from last night was a good guy, or a vicious criminal. Was he honest? Cruel? Did he have a wife? Children? What he did know was that one minute the guy was living and breathing, with life ahead, probably things to do, maybe a fence to mend at his house, and groceries to pick up. Or children to take to school. And seconds later, after a terrifying drop during which his fate became irreversibly clear to him, everything he was going to do, everything he could have been, was gone.