Captains Outrageous by Joe R. Lansdale Page A

here.”
    “It’s Mexico, you moron.”
    “I mean, that’s what you wipe your ass with. Pages from it.”
    “Ouch.”
    Back in the house, Beatrice, dressed in a simple white cotton dress with red and purple flowers stitched on it, searched through her shelf of books, found Leonard a book in English, Andrew Vachss’s Dead and Gone , left it with him along with a bottle of water, bread and cheese, and a cup of coffee.
    She and I drove into town so I could try and make some kind of arrangements to get home. As we drove along with the sand blowing up and making clouds on the road, she said, “I was supposed to be at the boat this morning, to help.”
    “What are you going to tell your father?”
    “I will not tell him that I was servicing you.”
    “I hear that. Hey. Wasn’t I servicing you too?”
    “You were. You did good.”
    “Great. Good dog. Want me to fetch your slippers?”
    Beatrice laughed her musical laugh.
    “Will he be mad?” I asked.
    “No. He does not make me work on the boat. It is as I said last night. I feel obligated.”
    “Thanks for going against your obligation this morning.”
    “That is all right. Even the obligated must have, how do you say it, ashes hauled?”
    “Close enough. But, you know, I hate it for your father. I mean, he helps us out, then we mess up his schedule. I make love to his daughter.”
    “He likes to take José out. José goes with him often. José or his brothers. He enjoys being able to give them a little money. They are even poorer than we are. Father catches quite a few fish. But if he caught all the fish in the ocean, he would only make so much money. It is not a rich life, the life of a fisherman.”
    “I hear that.”
    In town we stopped at a little café near the dock. Outside the café the smell was briny and strong of fish. Inside the café there was the smell of cooking fish, and that unique smell of hot sauces and fresh tortillas.
    I used some of the money I had to treat Beatrice to lunch, reminded myself to stop by later and get something for Leonard.
    We had spicy fish with beans and rice and tortillas. As we ate, I halfway expected one of the cops from across the bay to come in, but that was probably just fearful thinking. Even though the towns of Playa del Carmen and Cozumel were separated only by water, it was enough water unless the renegade cops made regular pilgrimages here.
    When we finished, Beatrice had coffee while I found a pay phone that worked near the restaurant and called John’s number using my calling card. I got the answering machine. I left a message outlining briefly what had happened. Where we were.
    I called Charlie.
    “Yes.”
    “Hey, Hap. You gettin’ any cruise ship pussy?”
    “No. Actually I’m in Playa del Carmen, Mexico.”
    “Hey, getting any señorita pussy?”
    “Actually, yes.”
    “Female chihuahuas don’t count.”
    “You’re just as funny as clown shoes.”
    “Hey, I know it.”
    “Listen. I got a little problem.”
    “Oh, shit.”
    “No. Nothing like that. Not the usual.”
    “Anybody dead?”
    “Not yet.”
    I gave him the shortened version of events.
    “Damn. Is Leonard bad?”
    “Not bad, but hell, he took a knife. No little thing. It could have been a lot worse. It’s a small cut, not too deep. Which is a good thing. This isn’t exactly a medical Mecca here.”
    “You guys. You’re somethin’. You could fuck up a wet dream. What do you need?”
    “Well, mainly I wanted you to know what happened to us. And I think I’m going to need some money wired until I can get to my money on board the ship. Then I can pay you back.”
    “How much you need?”
    “Well, we’ll have to arrange for plane tickets. Stuff like that. I’ve got some money. But, since I’m not certain how long Leonard’s going to have to recoup, if we’re going to have to take a hotel or not, maybe a couple thousand. Three would be better.”
    “Shit. Ask for ten. Same thing.”
    “I know, Charlie. Maybe you could