Chapter 9
Tony
When I came out of the curse, I was behind her and my dick was nestled between her lips like a hot dog in a bun.
I was already past the point of return. She got there with me.
Her voice was lost in pleasure, but her face was a blur.
Even if I’d had glasses, I would have been too surprised to appreciate what she looked like when she came.
Maybe she’ll let me try again.
I can smell the salt water and diesel fumes. It reminds me of the docks in Long Beach.
And though I can’t really see more than multicolored blurs, I can really see… with eyes. I can blink. I can squint. I can move them back and forth. My ears hear sounds. Full-color sounds. The tourists on the dock. The rumble and splash of boat motors. The seagulls.
Fuck. I’m hungry.
Really hungry.
When I was a kid, we stole candy from three stores in the neighborhood.
Giancarlo and Caspian would pretend to browse the pornos until Helen, or Bobo, or Jackson, whichever owner of whichever store, would chase them away.
Sometimes, Giancarlo would swear he was of age—which was kind of maybe believable since he went through puberty at nine—and he’d just left his proof in the car.
In fact, he wasn’t even old enough to drive.
It didn’t matter. While their backs were turned, Lorenzo and I would snatch handfuls of Hundred Thousand Dollar bars.
Snickers. Charleston Chew. By the time the grown-up in the room looked around, we were gone.
I’m wondering if I can do that again. There are food vendors in big vans and one guy under a rainbow umbrella selling some abstract of bright colors.
Maybe fruit? I can’t see well enough to even know what I’d be stealing.
I can’t even see a truck coming at me. The lady truck driver peels away mad. I almost died hungry.
God, now all I can smell is food.
Wash your hands.
There are two things to do when that voice starts its fucking shit.
Neither of them is ignoring it. One, I can wash my hands, which will quiet it down for three minutes or three days.
Two, I can distract myself, which will last as long as the distraction.
Previous distractions included moving money, learning about money, thinking about money, making money, and listing all the fucked up shit done for money, some of it by me.
Current distractions include Julia’s voice as heard through real ears, Julia’s whereabouts, how Julia looks with 20/700 vision, how she’ll look at 20/20, how Julia felt on my dick, and the best way to make Julia’s life better.
But right now, there’s no Julia.
Wash your hands.
If I had my glasses, I could see her. I’d know exactly where she is. I’d know how the meeting is going and when they’re wrapping it up. But everything’s a fucking blur.
“Tony.” Julia’s voice comes from behind me. “Dan, Tonya, this is Tony.”
They greet me as if there’s no problem with me being there in Caspian’s clothes.
Tonya finds an empty bench looking out over the docks. She plants herself against the railing overlooking the water.
My stomach growls like an angry lion. Hunger is pretty distracting too. Eating would make the voice stop cold.
“I brought you something to eat.” Julia hands me a bundle in a napkin.
I have never loved another human being as much as I love her right now. I’m barely sitting before I open the napkin to find a sandwich in wax paper. I have no idea what I’ve revealed until I taste it.
Caprese. Fresh mozzarella. Perfect tomatoes.
“Holy shit.” I can barely talk long enough before I’m taking another bite. There’s a hole in my belly that hasn’t been filled in thirty-plus years.
“You can see the Goddess from here,” Dan says, pointing out a ship that’s only a blue silhouette in the shade. “They’ll have a portable dock for the Skrilla’. Two days to do repairs is, like, fucking gold.”
“You doing this job with me?” Julia asks Tonya.
“It’s a half mile off Newport Beach. So it’s fine.”
“The question is, why are they hiring us at the last minute? They don’t have people?”
“Foreign workers,” I say after I swallow the last of the caprese.
“On a boat, you’re outside US laws. You can hire people you don’t have to insure or even really pay.
Once you dock, it’s another thing. But a hundred-foot boat can’t dock, so it’s a pain in the ass to get legal workers on, and it’s still subject to IRS inspection. Double bind.”
Julia’s face is turned toward me. I cannot see her expression. I’ve been nearsighted my whole life and I can tell you, her reaction is not good.
“What?” I ask.
She has another sandwich. I can hear the wax paper crinkle. She’s not eating it. “Any man…”
“And it’s always a man,” Tonya interjects.
“…who can afford a hundred-foot yacht should be able to staff it without resorting to slavery.”
“You gonna eat that?” I point at the wrapped sandwich.
“No, but I’m a billionaire, so I’m not giving it to you.”
“You’re a—?”
“Of course not.” She denies her billions. She’s still not giving up the sandwich. “To a starving man, a sandwich is capital. I keep the capital. Like the asshole with slaves on intentional waters.”
“Okay, first off,” I say, “there’s gonna come a day when those people are going to sink that fucking boat unless he starts giving up his sandwiches.”
A dark blur appears at the bottom of her face. Her mouth opening. She leans in enough for me to see her brown eyes soften.
“Tony. What are you saying?”
Jesus. Did I just threaten to sink her?
“I’m really hungry. I’m not thinking straight.”
“No, I mean do you think they should sink the boat?”
Which answer would get me the sandwich? I have no idea. Fifty-fifty either way. So it doesn’t matter if I just say the truth.
“I don’t like when things are lopsided. If sinking the boat would make the situation more fair, then yes. Blow it up.” I don’t have to wait. She hands the bundle over. In a fit of gratitude, I grab her hand without thinking. “Thank you.”
I don’t know this woman. I shouldn’t be grabbing her. I let go and unwrap the sandwich. Turkey. Damn. I love turkey.
“Your level has achieved class consciousness,” Tonya says. “Even though he stole my name.”
“I’m named after my grandfather.”
“I’m going to call you Levelio. Screw your grandfather.”
“He was an enforcer for the railway worker’s union.” I bite and talk around the food. “It got ugly back then. He beat a congressman near to death. Changed his vote though.”
“He’s dead, right?” Tonya asks.
“Grandpa? Yeah. Unless he made it to a hundred and seven.”
“If he’s alive, I’ll change my name.”
“Deal.”
“I hate to bring this up now,” Julia says, cracking open a bottle of water. “Caspian said to get you out because… we’re running low.”
“I know. I heard everything.”
“Don’t worry.” She hands me the water. “We’ll pay you back.”
“I saw that time you and Tonya barely slept for four days to pay a bill. That’s not going to happen anymore.” I drink the water. “I have some I can get to quick. Should be a lot now. Right before the crows came, I put it all in a super stable equity.”
“In 1994?” Julia asks with suspicion.
“It could have split so many times!” Dan seems excited. He pulls out his phone. “Dude, you are so rich right now.”
“Your man has not achieved class consciousness,” Julia says to Tonya, who rolls her eyes.
“Come on, this is cool either way. I gotta check. Do you have the ticker?” Dan asks.
“Um.” I chew and search the database in my head. “ENE? I’m pretty sure that was it. I liked the palindrome ones.”
“No.” Dan touches the surface of his phone. “That’s not coming up. Anything coulda happened. Sometimes they split funny. Do you know the company name?”
“Yeah.” I wipe my mouth. “Enron.”