Tampa, Florida
Part 10
I wasn’t quite sure what I’d said to make Mark change his mind about things, but I wasn’t gonna chance saying something dumb as he packed his things in readiness to check out of the Marriott hotel.
After one final check of all the robes and cupboards, he was satisfied that he hadn’t forgotten anything. “I seem to be doing this a lot lately,” he sighed, “moving in and moving out. It’s like I’m leaving a little bit of myself behind each time I move. Anyway, let’s go down to the lobby. I’ll phone a taxi there.”
“Taxi? You don’t need a taxi. I’ll give you a lift.”
“Huh?”
“On my BMX!”
“You’re joking, right?" he cracked. "What about my backpacks?”
“You wear one and I’ll wear the other. Too easy.”
By the time we were half way home, my legs were burning and turning to jelly. So we swapped around, and Mark pedaled the rest of the way. That dude was as strong as a fucking ox. Anyway, it was cool sitting behind him, watching his arm and leg muscles bulging as we sped along the road. Woohoo!
“By the way,” he said when we were about a block from home, “how much do your folks and Greg know about Cody’s email?”
“Not a lot.”
“I hope not.”
“Chill.”
Mark dumped his backpacks on the spare bed, and began to organize his stuff while I emptied some drawers and made room for his stuff in the closet. Then I left him to his chores and took a shower. I was all squeaky clean and smelling like roses when I returned to my room. Naked, of course. But it didn’t seem to bother him. By then, he was packing the last of his stuff away… all neat and tidy just like Cody had told me.
“Did Cody ever tell you about the time he re-organized his room ‘cause he was impressed with the way you organized your stuff?”
“He did that?”
“Sure. Folded everything just like you fold it, and placed everything in its proper place. He told me lots of stuff… like how neat your handwriting was when you were doing your homework, and how you had little reference notes on the side of each page.”
“Must’ve been one of those days when he had nothing better to write about.”
“No way, Mark. Everything Cody wrote me was interesting; especially about you. I loved every word. Remember that Harley Davidson calendar he gave you one Christmas? With all those little notes about what you guys had done on a certain day the previous year? Cody was that kinda guy. Everything was important to him; every little detail, and he wanted to share those things.”
“I’ve still got that calendar.” He opened a drawer and produced it, then handed it to me. “That’s one calendar I’ll have for the rest of my life.” He watched me flip through the pages and read the hand-written notes, then added: “Maybe you knew him better than I did.”
“Maybe. There was a lotta stuff he didn’t have the nerve to tell you… like how much he loved and admired you.”
“Admired?”
“Sure. You didn’t know that?”
“I thought it was infatuation or whatever… kid stuff. I figured he’d get over it.”
“You underestimate yourself, Mark. You really do.”
“Maybe that’s better than overestimating yourself, Daniel. The day you think there’s no room left for improvement is the day you stop growing.”
It was no surprise that the convo over dinner - casserole chicken and corn cobs - centered around the day’s sailing. “Daniel did an excellent job,” Mark said at one stage, then went on to detail my efforts. Kinda gave me a swelled head, but, hey, I was proud of myself. Greg was pretty impressed with me as well.
“When you crossed the Equator on your way here, were you initiated?” Andy asked. “I’ve heard about that kind of ‘pollywog’ thing. I remember watching a Jacques Cousteau program where his crew had to run the gauntlet.”
“Yeah, if you’ve never crossed the Equator before, you’re a pollywog, and tradition holds that you’ve gotta be initiated by the shellbacks, those who had already been across the Equator. It’s supposed to be a friendly ritual, but I’ve heard about those that have gotten out of hand. Guy stuff often does as you probably know.”
“Did yours?”
“With all due respect, sir, I’m not the kind of person who takes ridicule lightly. Most people know not to mess with me. But the guys on board were pretty cool. They covered me with raw eggs and a whole bunch of leftovers and grease and whatever as I tried to run the gauntlet. Then they tossed me overboard.” Mark paused to giggle, so we figured he was pretty cool about his initiation. “Hey, they even gave me a certificate. So now I’m an official shellback.”
In the Royal Court
Of the Realm of Neptune
In and for the District of Equatorius
The People of the Realm of The Deep
Vs
Mark
“That was the subpoena, signed by Davey Jones, the clerk, and countersigned by Peg Leg, his deputy.” Mark excused himself from the table for a moment, dashed into my, uh, our room, and returned with a document that was passed around the table for us all to read.
IN THE ROYAL COURT OF THE REALM OF NEPTUNE
In and for the District of Equatorius
The People of the Realm of the Deep
Versus
All Landlubbers
It having been brought to the attention of His Royal Highness, NEPTUNUS REX, Supreme Ruler of the Deep, through his trusty shellbacks, that a ship manned by a crew that has not acknowledged the sovereignty of the Ruler of the Deep, has transgressed on his domain and thereby incurred the Royal Displeasure.
BE IT KNOWN: To ye all that His Most Royal Highness, NEPTUNUS REX, Supreme ruler of all mermaids, sharks, crabs, pollywogs, timmonogs, and other denizens of the deep, will with his Secretary and Royal Court meet in full session on board the offending vessel at 08:00 in the morning of [date and year] to examine into your fitness to be taken into the citizenship of the Deep, and to hear your defense on the charge of:
1. Being a silent partner to SEMMES.
It is therefore ordered and decreed that the above-named man present himself before the Royal Court at the time and place mentioned under the penalty of eternal pickling.
By order of the Court
Of His Majesty
Given under my hand and seal [this day/year]
Davey Jones, clerk
Peg Leg, deputy
“Why do people do all this weird stuff?” I asked after reading the document.
“Tradition,” was Mark’s immediate answer. “People have been sailing the seven seas ever since some hairy dude figured out how to hollow out the center of a log and make a canoe. That’s a helluva long time, buddy.”
“So you took it all on the chin and didn’t complain?”
“Hey, man, when you’re on a boat in the middle of f... uh, nowhere, you don’t complain. I guess that’s one of the reasons some initiations get outa hand.”
Initiations? Hmmm. Maybe I could invent one. It was Mark’s first night at my place, sharing my room, right? Woohoo! I was gonna have to think more about that. Yeah, I figured Cody was somehow in my head, getting me think of weird stuff, which made me burst out laughing. Everyone at the table looked at me as though I’d lost my mind.
“Daniel?” my mom asked. “Would you like to share the joke with us?”
“It’s nothing, mom. Just thinking about initiations.”
After dessert and coffee, Mark insisted on helping me and Greg with the dishes. He was a hard guy to figure: one minute in the boxing ring belting the fucking crap outa some dude like Cody, then helping with the dishes. I had to laugh at that thought, which meant that I’d gotten the giggles twice already for no apparent reason.
“You OK, Daniel? You’re behaving a bit strangely tonight. Hope it’s got nothing to do with my being here.”
“It’s got everything to do with your being here, Mark,” I said as I stacked the crockery away. “You’re a funny guy even when you’re not trying to be funny.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Mr Macho, Mr Softie, Mr Neat & Tidy … Mr Fucking Everything.”
“Mr Contrast,” Greg added. “But I think that’s awesome. I guess it shows, huh? You’ve been a big hit with all of us, Mark, just like you are with Cody’s folks.”
“I guess I have this habit of bumping into friendly folks,” Mark shrugged, giving the impression that he wasn’t comfortable with compliments. “But I’ve also got my share of enemies, Greg. You better believe it. Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” Then he turned his attention to me. “Hey, Daniel, would it be cool to use your comp to send a few emails to friends?”
“Sure. I’ll show you how to…”
“Hey, thanks, buddy, but they’re kinda private.”
“Oh. Sorry. Uh… no problem. I’ll take Kyle for a walk.”
The lights were on at Paul’s house as I passed by. Kyle was off his leash, darting there and darting here, sniffing everything his nose came anywhere near. Hmmm. That rhymed. Anyway, I paused a moment, and thought about knocking on Paul’s door just to say hi or whatever, but I wasn’t sure what his reaction might be. Maybe it would be better if I waited ‘til I saw him at school in the morning.
‘What would Cody have done about my situation with Paul?’ I asked myself as I continued on my way, kicking a discarded, empty juice carton ‘til it bounced to a halt a few yards ahead of me. Then I kicked it again. ‘Nah, Cody had a short wick. He was always getting himself into deep shit when he had a problem to solve.’ Then I laughed again for the third time that night at my own thoughts. Cody was a lot like me: over-react, use your fists, and sort out the problem later when everyone had time to cool down. He wasn’t the greatest of diplomats or negotiators. No way! Heh. But he was Cody. And that’s all that mattered.
It was about 10:00 when Kyle and I got back home. I wasn’t sure if I should disturb Mark in my – OK, our room – so I said hi to my mom and Andy, and headed out back to the pool. Whoa! Mark and Greg? Swimming naked? Coolio! My shorts and boxers were on the lawn in a milli-second, and I was in the water with the guys.
“Have any probs with my comp?”
“Nope. Thanks for letting me use it.”
“Hey, it’s yours, man. I mean it. Everything in my – sorry, force of habit – OUR room is yours. Just like Cody’s room was Wingnut’s. How’s the grommet, by the way?”
“Just as crazy. Actually, he’s growing up. I only see him maybe twice a year and it’s like wow! What’s happening here? No wonder grommets get pissed off with aunts who are forever saying things like, “My! How you’ve grown!” But it’s true. That little dude is becoming a real head-turner – not that he wasn’t before – he’s just turning older heads.”
“So what have you and Greg been talking about? Did I miss anything?”
“I’ve been hearing a lot about you,” Mark laughed, then dove beneath the surface.
“Like what?” I demanded when he reappeared; wet black hair clinging to his scalp.
“Just stuff.” Then a Cheshire cat grin spread across his awesomely handsome face before he dove again, leaving rings of ripples scurrying toward the pool sides.
“Bro?” I asked Greg. “What the fuck have you been telling Mark?”Copyright © 2003 All rights reserved. mrbstories
