Kidnapping’s Illegal, Right?

29. Kidnapping’s Illegal, Right?

Before I cast off for my next port, I still had a few loose ends to tie up. I was making my rounds, revisiting and saying farewell to all of the various love interests I had met at this stop on this passage. It was still early in the evening. If I could connect with someone, I’d be that much closer to departure.

Christy had said that her mom, Pam, was now working the lunch shift, getting off at 7.p.m. I knew that she didn’t have a car and used the only taxi service in town to get to and from work. I hatched an idea.

“Island taxi. How may I help?”

“Yeah, hi. This is Sailor calling. Is my buddy Art available?”

“Please hold.”

“Hello. This is Art.”

“Hey, Art. It’s Sailor calling. How the fuck have you been?”

“Whoa! Sailor, as in The One And Only Sailor?”

“One and the same, buddy. When you gonna sell those jitneys and retire to the easy life?”

“As I live and breathe. I thought you sunk in the Gulf of Trump or had a heart attack while fucking some skanky whore. What brings you around?”

“Art, I need a favor. It’s a long story but, short version, I brought some passengers with me on this passage. A mom and daughter. I got them jobs at Marcy’s and they have an apartment.”

“Sailor, I can’t be driving your skanks around for free. I got bills to pay.”

“No, no. Nothing like that Art. The mom is going to call Island Taxi for a ride home after work, around 7 p.m. tonight. I want your driver to bring her here to the marina instead of her apartment. Her name is Pam. Can you do that for me, Art?”

“Shit, that’s an easy one. I thought you were gonna ask me to do something illegal, like run a trunk full of weed up to Miami or something. What’s her name again?”

“Pam. Long chestnut brown hair, early 40s, nice rack. She’ll book a ride from Marcy’s original place to an apartment mid-island. I just want you to drop her here at the marina instead. Big tip to your driver if it’s done right.”

“Consider it done, my friend. Now, when are we gonna tip a few and relive the old days?”

“Soon, Art, soon. Thanks, buddy.”

Anticipating some blowback from Pam, I even turned on the air conditioner, hoping it would make for a more comfortable experience.