My Dad and I were sitting outside of a café in Costa Rica. Near us were some small outdoor businesses, some selling chickens and beans, others selling threads and jewelry. Meanwhile, Dad was waiting for Dodgson to come. Dad was having some pie and I was having some tea. I looked up just in time to see Dodgson climb out of a taxi, holding a brief case close to him. I lightly nudged Dad and looked pointedly at Dodgson. Dad looked up and grinned wider. Dodgson was looking around.
"Dodgson!" Dad yelled loudly. The man's head snapped in our direction and he hurried over to us quickly.
"You shouldn't use my name in public." Dodgson scolded Dad as he sat down.
"Dodgson, we've got Dodgson here!" Dad yelled, gesturing to Dodgson, trying to push it as far he could. I shrunk back into my seat, even though nobody really looked over. No one probably understood English here.
"See, nobody cares." Dad was saying. I looked up at Dodgson and really noticed his hat. His hat was sorta cool I guess.
"Nice hat." I quietly said, glancing at it. Dodgson smiled, a charming smile. It was the same smile that reeled my Dad into this stupid business of cheating out his company. Though it was true, Dad was extremely poor, taking it out on the person who was willing to pay you, wasn't right.
"Thank you." Dodgson said. Dad looked at his hat and laughed.
"What are you trying to look like, a secret agent?" Dad lightly swiped his hand over Dodgson's hat. Dodgson rolled his eyes and ignored the comment. Dodgson took the briefcase from his lap and gave it to my Dad. My Dad's smile grew, if that was possible.
"Seven fifty." Dodgson told him, taking off his sunglasses, and putting them in his shirt pocket. My Dad squealed in delight. I knew Dad was doing this with the best intentions, but I felt like snatching the briefcase and giving it back to Dodgson. After that, I would probably kick Dodgson out of Central America and beyond. It was all his fault. I slightly glared at the briefcase. In it was enclosed a man's pure intention to live, to get filthy rich.
"On delivery, fifty thousand more for every viable embryo. That's one point five million. If you get all fifteen species off the island." Dodgson explained again.
"Oh, I'll get 'em all." Dad promised, hugging the briefcase. I snatched my cup of tea as I felt tears well up in my eyes. Sometimes Dad acted like money was his life instead of me. I felt betrayed. I wiped the tears away from my eyes. Dad didn't notice me.
"Remember, viable embryos. They're no use to us if they don't survive." Dodgson put back on his sunglasses, trying to get the sudden sun out of his eyes.
"How am I supposed to transport 'em?" Dad asked, looking at Dodgson. I set my cup down in front of me and curled up, putting my arms around my legs, tightly hugging myself. Dodgson pulled out an ordinary can of men's shaving cream out of a shoulder bag he had and gave it to Dad.
"The bottom screws open; it's cooled and compartmentalized inside. They can even check it if they want. Press the top." Dodgson shrugged. Dad pressed the top and real shaving cream came out onto the palm of his hand. As Dodgson continued talking while Dad looked for wipe the shaving cream off his hand. He spotted a section of pie that he wasn't going to eat and dabbed it on there.
"There's enough coolant gas for thirty-six hours." Dodgson told Dad, who looked up at Dodgson.
"What? No menthol?" Dad asked quickly. I didn't know much about chemicals and whatnot, but I didn't care to ask what coolant gas and menthol was.
"Dennis, Dennis." Dodgson shook his head, rubbing his forehead. "The embryos have to be back here in San Jose by then." Dodgson said, resuming the topic.
"That's up to your guy on the boat. Seven o'clock tomorrow night, at the east dock. Make sure he gets it right." Dad told Dodgson, emphasizing the part about how it was up to the guy who would pick them up.
"I was wondering, how do you plan to beat security?" Dodgson asked, quirking a brow. I rolled my eyes silently. When people talk about beating security, they think it's impossible, when in fact, if you're the right person, such as my Dad was, it's a piece of cake.
"I got an eighteen minute window. Eighteen minutes and your company catches up on ten years of research." Dad said, putting the shaving can in his bag. A waiter came and placed a check on the table, in between the two of them. Dad looked pointedly down at it, then back up at Dodgson.
"Don't go cheap on me, Dodgson." Dad simply said. Dodgson rolled his eyes and picked up the check.
"That was Hammond's mistake." Dad continued to say, picking up his luggage. I did the same and stood up. My Dad called for a taxi. I silently cursed myself for not speaking up. Dad was still my Dad, even if he was doing something I was against. But, as his daughter, doesn't he want to know I feel?
"Dad?" I quietly asked, looking up at him. No taxi had come yet.
"Yeah, Joy?" He looked down at me, a giant smile all over his face.
"Maybe Mr. Hammond will raise your pay after his park is up and runnin'." I told him hopefully, with a small smile on my face.
"Grand, but I'm still doin' this." Dad replied, turning his attention back to getting a taxi.
"But if Mr. Hammond did that, you wouldn't have to be doing this." I persisted. Dad stopped smiling and faced me.
"Do you have a problem with what I'm doing?" He asked. There was a tinge of anger in his voice. Dad had never actually punished me in a physical way, but it was still good not to cross it.
"No." I replied quickly. Dad nodded and continued to call for a taxi.
Screw me and my life.