2.
Mark finished unpacking, hanging up the one and only suit he brought in the closet, then moved to unpack Hardcastle's bags. The suite was larger than Mark had expected from the usually cheap Judge. Two large double beds, a view of the ocean and a separate dressing room for a fourteen day cruise to Nassau and Freeport in the Bahamas. It was an hour till sailing, but Mark wanted everything to be stowed away so he wouldn't miss the sail-off festivities. McCormick had managed to catch a few episodes of THE LOVE BOAT when he couldn't convince the Judge to watch HUNTER instead. He knew all about the romantic interludes he could fall into and was looking forward to it. Hardcastle was up on deck arranging some tours of the ship, at Mark's request. He had never been on a cruise before, never even imagined he would take such a trip. Hardcastle's sudden decision to get away from California had taken him by surprise, but a very pleasant surprise.
Mark decided to try out the bed nearest the picture window. He lay back on the soft mattress, sinking into what seemed to be a fluffy cloud. "I'll just close my eyes for a sec, then go find the Judge." Mark yawned, his eyes dropping.
He was still on the bed when Hardcastle came in search of him. Before sailing, all cruise boats would have a drill wherein passengers got their life jackets and went to their lifeboat stations. Hardcastle walked into the cabin and saw McCormick sound asleep. He reached forward to shake him awake, hesitating when he looked at the slack features. There were lines by the eyes, across the forehead and by the mouth. Ever since Harper had mentioned it, Hardcastle had watched McCormick, looking for signs of exhaustion. They weren't hard to find, now that his eyes were opened. He needed his sleep more than some silly drill. The Judge picked up his orange jacket and tiptoed out of the room.
Dinner time came and went and still Mark slept on. Hardcastle was getting worried. They had been at sea for five hours and McCormick hadn't moved once. He leaned down next to the kid and laid his hand on McCormick's back, pushing him slightly into the bed. "Wake up, kiddo, you're gonna miss the whole trip."
Mark rolled over, snuggling closer to Hardcastle's leg. His eyes opened for a moment, then closed, not really awake.
"Come on, McCormick, I didn't pay all this money so you could sleep for two weeks. Wake up."
Two blue eyes looked blankly at the Judge, life slowly returning to them. "Whadya want?"
"How do you feel?"
"Sleepy. Better than yesterday." Mark frowned. "Hungry. When do we eat?"
"You missed afternoon brunch and dinner, but you might have a chance at the midnight snack. That is, if you can manage to get up, clean yourself off, and stay awake. Think you can handle it?"
With a sleepy nod, Mark rolled out of bed and fumbled through the closet, pulling out a fresh pair of jeans and a ragged workshirt, heading for the bathroom.
Hardcastle fixed McCormick's bed, pulling the sheet into something resembling neatness. When Mark came out of the bathroom, he looked more alert, his hair damp from the quick shower he had taken. But the eyes were clear and he had a grin plastered across his face.
"Ready to go?" Hardcastle asked, shaking his head at the outfit.
"Yep, I'm starving. How long before midnight?"
"Not too long. We can look around the ship, go into the lounge and watch a show, get a drink. C'mon, kiddo, it's your vacation, what do you want to do?"
"Have fun. No rules and regulations, no schedules or bad guys, just lots of unplanned fun. How's that sound?"
"Pretty good, McCormick, pretty good." Hardcastle slapped Mark on the back as they walked out to the hall. "Let's get started."
"Come on, Judge, we're docking! Don't you want to watch?" Mark tugged at the Judge's arm, wanting him to come out on deck. Hardcastle had found a few friends who liked to sit around and talk about law, leaving Mark free to scout up a few interesting ladies on the boat. Most seemed to have eyes only for the officers on the ship, but Mark managed to find a couple who were willing to go with him to movies on board, dances with when he got up enough nerve, and generally keep him company while Hardcastle was otherwise occupied.
"Alright, McCormick, I'm coming! I've seen boats dock before, you know." Hardcastle followed the younger man out onto the deck, squeezing through the pack of people who were also watching the ship arrive in Nassau. It was a lovely old village, a long concrete runway leading form the ships to the main street of town. There were booth-like structures set up near the dock where locals sold straw articles, like hats and dolls, pocketbooks and hot pads for the kitchen, as well as conch shells and jewelry handmade form tiny shells picked off the sandy beaches surround Nassau.
"I haven't, and I've already missed our leaving Miami. I don't want to miss anything else. I'm gonna see everything!" Mark replied, leaning over the side, watching how the boat brushed against the wood pilings covered with old tires.
"You're worse than a kid, you know that?" Hardcastle had to yell to be heard over the screaming whistles of the tugboats that helped guide their liner to its berth.
"Aw, you're just upset 'cause that Mr. Wilson guy cleaned you out at poker last night. Hey, Judge?" Mark turned to look Hardcastle in the face, oblivious to the press of people around them.
"What?"
"Are you enjoying yourself? I mean, we could catch a flight home if you're bored," Mark asked anxiously, his eyes searching for signs of boredom.
"Have you had fun?" Hardcastle countered.
"Yes. Yes, I have. It's been the nicest two and a half days in ages, Judge. But I don't think you've liked it very much."
"What makes you say that?"
Mark turned away, moving back through the crush and sitting down on an empty deck chair. "'cause you've been avoiding me. The only time I see you is when we eat breakfast and dinner, and at night in the cabin." Mark picked at a stray piece of canvas, worrying it with his fingers. "Is this sorta a…goodbye gift?"
Hardcastle sat down next to McCormick, reaching out and, holding the younger man's chin, turned his head so he could see his face. His fingers still on Mark's chin, Hardcastle replied, puzzled. "What are you talking about?"
"You've been so nice to me, taking this vacation, putting off the case I know you were planning with Frank Harper." His eyes dropped to the ground and Hardcastle let go of his face.
"You stupid…I swear, I don't understand how your brain works…" Hardcastle began.
Mark jumped up, running down the hall, pushing through the people eager to disembark the ship to explore Nassau. Hardcastle tried to go after him, but couldn't manage to break through fast enough to catch him. "McCormick! Wait up!"
He pushed back to the railing, watching Mark McCormick disappear into a crowd of happy tourists. "Damn that kid, where does he get these ideas? Aw, when he cools off, he'll be back, then we'll straighten this out. Stupid kid." Hardcastle went back to their cabin to wait for his hotheaded friend.
McCormick walked hurriedly to where the pier ended and the main street of Nassau started. Looking right and left, Mark saw a shop which rented out motorbikes. Digging deep into his pockets, he found two twenties and a five, more than enough to rent a method of transportation. He needed to get away from Hardcastle and the ship and the scene he knew was bound to happen sooner or later. "I tried so hard, really I did." Mark stopped at the pane glass window, resting his forehead against the coolness.
"Hey, buddy, you okay?"
Mark turned to see a twelve-year-old girl looking at him worriedly. "Yeah, I'm okay, just looking at their bikes."
"You don't wanna rent those. Ol' man Thornton will take you over the bumps."
"You're an American, aren't you?" Mark asked, catching the tough of Yankee in the girl's voice.
"Yep. My folks live here now. If you really want a motorbike, there's a place about a block away from here. They're at least ten bucks cheaper a day." Her nose was splattered with freckles, the dark hair pulled back into a long, thick pont tail. "Interested?"
"Yeah, lead on, sweetheart."
Mark followed the girl through the winding streets leading to old Nassau. The bike was almost half of what it would've cost him at the tourist shop near the pier. "'preciate this. Look, you need a ride home? Hop on."
The girl's smile lit up her face, showing the beauty she was destined to be when she hit her teens. "That'd be nice. What's your name?"
"Mark. What's yours?"
"Mandy. You're pretty nice for a tourist, Mark."
"Thanks, Mandy. You'll have to show me the way to your home," Mark said. "Hey, do you hafta be back right away? I've never been here before and I need a guide. How'dya like the job? It doesn't pay much, but I'll treat you to lunch and admission to all the places we go see."
Mandy nodded vigorously. "Yeah, that'd be great! Where do you want to go first?"
"You're the native, I'm the tourist, you decide," Mark replied, kicking the starter on the bike.
"Follow the coast road. I'll show you the beaches and we can hit the Fort for lunch."
McCormick made certain Mandy was hanging on tightly to his waist as they started down the road leading out of the tourist section and past the hotels and mansions owned by some of the older residents of the island. Mark enjoyed the sightseeing, but one part of him wished Hardcastle was there to enjoy it with him. They neared the part of the coast that wasn't packed with stores, McDonald's, Burger Kings and Kentucky Fried Chickens. The water was a crystal blue slapping against a blinding white beach. Mark pulled the bike up in a spare parking slot, climbing off the vehicle when Mandy jumped off.
"This is…beautiful," Mark breathed, his eyes on the tranquil waters. There were black couples walking on the public beach, a few older whites selling cola in bottles, cooling off in large metal kegs of ice. Young kids and teenagers played in the ocean.
Mark kicked his sneakers off, leaning against the bike to pull his socks off. He enjoyed the feel of the sand squishing between his toes, the warmth of the sun on his back, filtering through his shirt. It didn't seem as hot as L.A. and for that, Mark was grateful.
"Not bad, huh?" Mandy said, walking side-by-side with Mark. "We used to live in Boston, but I don't ever wanna go back."
"I can understand why you love it here. I feel the same about…about this place I live." Mark strolled to the water, trailing his right foot in the gentle surf.
"Where's that?"
"Malibu. In California."
"You gotta girlfriend there?"
"Nah, I used to have a friend, a guy who was kinda like my father, who I was living with."
"What happened?"
"Mandy, you ask a lot of questions, you know that?" Mark said sternly, his eyes twinkling.
"Yeah, but you'll never find anything out if you don't ask."
"True, hon, very true. Shall we head on to that fort you were talking about?" Mark asked, taking the skinny arm of his new friend and escorting her back to the waiting motorbike.
"Okay."
"What time will your folks be expecting you back?"
"Not till ten. Mom is on one of the out islands and Dad is working late at the hotel. He's the manager," Mandy explained, clutching tightly to Mark's waist as he veered around a slow-moving mule-driven carriage. The road curved around, leaving the houses, public-access beaches and motels far behind. Soon there was only unspoiled sand and stubby palm trees, bent from years of storms. The mini bike zoomed along the highway, Mark and Mandy enjoying the whip of wind through their hair.
"Hey," Mark called back to the young girl. "Don't your parents worry about you talking to strangers like this?"
"No such thing as a stranger, just a friend I haven't made. 'sides, they trust my judgment." Mandy shouted back over the noise.
"Oh, yeah? And how do I look to you?"
"Nice, but sad. Kinda like Freddy, my best friend in third grade."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, he ran away from home 'cause he thought his dad didn't love him anymore."
Mark was struck by the closeness of the girl's observation. "I can see why your parents trust you. Still, it's a bad thing picking up men you haven't met before. Don't do it again, okay?"
"Okay, Mark." Mandy prodded him in the shoulder, pointing to a coral entryway that led to the Fort's parking lot.