Chapter 20: Crossing the Coastal Trench.
Friday February 16, 2019. Day #33 continued. Day #2 of 6 sailing to Cabo San Lucas.
During a break in our chat I went below to make brunch, he sat on the bench with his foot on the wheel to keep us on course.
I made us some pasta and opened a can of spaghetti sauce and added spices (garlic, oregano, pepper, and crushed red pepper) to make it better. It was actually decent sauce for something from a can from the grocery store. I also heated a can of peas and brought him a bowl and spoon. We ate by the helm and continued our conversation.
After lunch Carlo watched me bring the dirty dishes up on the back deck. To wash them you had to lie down on your stomach and hang way over to reach the water. He saw the pots had ropes tied to the handles and asked why.
"If you drop it, it's gone forever and we don't have spares," I explained. But in his fast problem solving style he asked me why I didn't use the bucket instead.
I stood up on my knees and stared at him while my brain crunched the images. A smile came to my face and I went below to find the shower bucket and brought it up on deck and filled it halfway with sea water then scrubbed the pots in the bucket. It was actually a lot easier. I set the soapy pots on the shower spot, re-filled the bucket and doused the pans and dishes with fresh sea water and rinsed off all the soap and they were done in half the time and I didn't have to hang over the side!
I stood up while the dishes were drying in the sunshine and looked at him and said, "Thank you, much easier." Carlo beamed with pride but didn't gloat. After I got all the pots dried and back in kitchen cabinets we further discussed his status as a `kept man.' He brought up the subject.
"I really don't know the dictionary definition of the term, `kept man.' I got out my tablet computer to look up the word KEEP.
I read to Carlo. "It does not specifically define `Kept Man,' but Keep has a big entry. Kept is past tense for KEEP, the best I can see is a Kept Person is someone that was held back, protected, sheltered, like a child or significant other that is not a spouse, but I know what you're thinking, what's the catch?"
"Huh?" He asked.
"Being a kept man, what's the catch?"
"Well yes, what is the catch? As Mom would say it sounds too good to be true."
"What I would like to see is an arrangement like; I pay your daily expenses as if we were married, I'll get you the same medical insurance policy as mine and pay all your medical and dental too. Being a kept man includes our travel or entertainment done together, education, clothing, and a monthly cash payment to cover your optional expenses, your own pocket money."
"Your covered expenses do not include you traveling alone, or flying people to visit us but you can use your allowance to pay for that. It does not include recreation or entertainment without me. If you want to spend a thousand bucks for Miss Cleo to predict your future you gotta pay that yourself, same with money in the collection plate at church."
"Alcohol or chewables we both use at home is covered."
"We must treat each other with respect, no fighting, no lies, no secrets, no revenge, and no keeping track of shit, and we pledge to be available for sex. We both agree to equally share household chores, we both cook meals and we both clean up afterward. I will not do much household stuff on work days. There will be no cheating, and no secret sex with other people. But here is the hardest and most important part." I cleared my throat and switched into my work voice so I knew he would pay close attention: "...you agree that if something big happens like your mother died you need to schedule her funeral for my next day off.
"How do you feel about all that crap." I asked. Carlo took in a deep breath then spoke, "Uhhhhh, I've never heard anything like this before, I wish I had it in writing! I guess I really didn't hear anything I found upsetting but the part about your job and homework has precedent over everything is weird. Can I give you a tentative `I agree,' and we can finalize this in California?"
"Yes, we can do that. What you're learning is being the significant other to an attorney can be complicated."
"Yes, I'm sure I'll have more questions. But it sounds like all this would be a lot less complicated if we got married." He said with a slightly exasperated tone.
"I'm flattered to hear you say that but I gotta tell you, being married is not without problems, especially when one of them is a lawyer, believe me I've seen it before. But as we are now please remember that I'll always feel that if you change your mind about us or have difficulty living with me, please just tell me in plain English, no hinting, no innuendo, no hidden messages, just say it in clearly spoken words, or you can write it down it that works better. I promise I will never attack you. Even when I get really mad I won't physically injure you. Just ask Tyrone Rivera."
"Who?"
"Never mind. And if I say something that hurts your feelings please tell me right away. I always respect direct honest speech, say something as soon as possible after it happens. Remember, I'm autistic, I learn some things reeeeeal slooooooow. People-relationship things are difficult, I tend to be blunt for the sake of honesty and speed. Oh yeah and something else I should warn you; never, I repeat, never ask me about rocks or geology and expect a one sentence answer." Carlo chuckled loudly then proclaimed, "You are such a dork!"
For a moment we stared at each other's eyes then I added, "If you got something to say go ahead and say it, because that's how my brain works, I generally recognize direct and uncomplicated truth."
For a moment after my warning I think he thought I was kidding, but I wasn't. My request for blunt honesty reminded me of a scene from an older movie, War Games from 1983, when David Lightman took a printout to two software engineers (Jim and Melvin), after Melvin snatched the papers Jim said to him: `Remember you told me to tell you when you're acting rudely and insensitively, remember that? You're doing it right now.' That's something I had to teach Carlo to say to me when I overstepped. In that movie the character Melvin was probably autistic too. One of our big problems was most autistics in real life don't look autistic like Melvin did in that movie. Then I told him, "This is very important, people look at me, I'm six foot three, I have a Juris Doctor and a photographic memory, but when it comes to people things I'm as stupid as your average four year old. People just cannot imagine that a lawyer could be so stupid and blind. Welcome to Planet Autism!" I said raising my hand like we were two Indian chiefs meeting to discuss peace.
A few moments later I added that all this stuff I outlined are some of the basic elements of what is commonly called a pre-nuptial agreement, just so you know." Carlo just said, `oh okay.' Then I told him that they often also included an agreement about who owns what and who is entitled to what if a divorce or split occurs for any reason.
As we sat on the back deck at the helm he said, "Steve, you said you wanted to tell me you loved me in Florida but couldn't, why's that?"
"I was afraid I'd scare you off if you didn't feel the same way."
"That's fair. If you'd said it during our first months I might have. For me I think love started that time we met at night in my car in the parking lot in a storm, you just escaped Miami, and I had to fire a crazy meth user and call the cops."
I smiled and agreed that was a bonding moment, nobody had ever responded to my plea for help like he did that night, turned out both of us needed it.
Carlo commented that our time together on the front seat of his car in that storm was something he recalled when he jerked off, it was one of the hottest moments of his life, I admitted that I pictured his body almost every time I jerked off.
"Don't I owe you a sex slave day?" I laughed and said I seemed to remember something like that but now he also owed me a mock rape. The moment I said that I started to get hard. But I was sitting beside him in shorts with my legs spread, the only thing he had on were his white boxers, so if I got hard he'd see my dick slowly grow towards him, same with him.
After some quiet we finished our spaghetti and peas and talked about living in Los Angeles. I told him, "First off, when I say Los Angeles I am referring to the entire metro area, from Oxnard to San Clemente." He said okay.
"When we get there my car should be at the marina in its assigned spot possibly wrapped in plastic, and the apartment has a private garage in the basement, that will give us enough room for a car and a scooter or two."
Carlo said he'd research his options when we got there, I told him we'd both be doing it. I told him a little more about the area near the apartment:
It's a new building -- opened last year, three miles east of the Venice Beach Boardwalk, there's twenty three restaurants, a Costco, a Whole Foods, several fast food joints within walking distance.
"You're a runner, what's walking distance to you?"
"Walking distance for me is one mile if I'm not carrying stuff."
"Yeah, your legs are long."
"Well that helps, sure. I'm just trying to stay in shape, live to see retirement. So our neighborhood has a lot of younger, educated, Caucasian folks and we have our share of permanent homeless and mentally ill drifters too. It's an expensive area that attracts a lot of tourists so traffic is bad and parking is a significant issue."
Carlo said, "I like it when you say significant' I always picture the movie Titanic, the designer of the ship tells Captain Smith the hull sustained significant' damage, it sunk a few hours later. To me the word significant means it's potentially a huge problem.
He smiled at me and asked if I ever had a significant orgasm during sex with him. I told him, yes twice, then I smiled at him. He grinned and looked in the distance as if he took that as a significant compliment.
"Oh hey, that reminds me, what about long trips on Susan after this?" He asked with a smile.
"Oh, maybe Hawaii, and after I retire maybe Japan."
"How long to sail to Japan?"
"Roughly, it's about fifty four hundred miles, about five weeks each way."
"Holy Shit! Could you imagine spending a month cooped up on Susan all day?"
"Not really. That's why this boat was built in Rhode Island, it's built for the Atlantic, that's why you see larger boats in marinas on the Pacific side, because it takes so much longer to cross the Pacific compared to the Atlantic, we're talking all most twice as wide."
"You're a history guy, how long would it take Susan to sail the Titanic route?"
"South Hampton to New York was about 3500 miles, it would take Susan at least three weeks with favorable winds, which don't exist at that latitude. The Titanic was supposed to cross the ocean in eight days, which nearly broke the record for a passenger ship. I think that worked out to around 20mph on theTitanic."
He grinned then added, "Three weeks to cross the Atlantic or over a month across the Pacific, holy crap, that really puts the difference into perspective."
"That, my friend is why I laugh to myself when people talk about the oceans rising as glaciers get smaller."
"Didn't it happen long ago?"
"It's a theory but there was nobody there to witness it, but the biggest factor is the planet has grown. Land masses shifted up and down too, those plates under us are constantly moving. That's why some places sink and others are moving higher. The Himalayas are still growing inches a year, that doesn't mean the Indian Ocean is getting lower."
Carlo asked how $4800 a month compared to what a new grad lawyer earned. I told him the new lawyer would earn about ten times more. Carlo chuckled at the idea of getting paid more in one month than he used to earn in one year. I reminded him that after taxes and mandatory expenses it could easily drop by forty percent. I told him that laundry service I used, a fresh work suit six days a week was super expensive, it added up over a year to well over five thousand bucks, just for work clothes. I had to pay a deposit on each suit and any stains that didn't wash out were billed as destroyed.
After a couple moments of silence while I adjusted the position of my dick in my shorts he asked, "You know, if you are really serious about sailing the Pacific why not sell Susan for one that is big enough?"
"Any true sailboat fan can look at her and in one glance notice that she was built for the Atlantic. Her racing hull design and shape above the deck were designed for gentlemen's races around Long Island. That will lower her value on the west coast, but yes, I'd consider it if I found a suitable class of boat, but that would mean I'd have to land another large class action settlement because my next boat would easily be ten times what I paid for Susan."
"How much was that?"
"Three hundred fifty thousand in hundred dollar bills."
"Holy smokes that's a lot of money."
"Yes, but it's also my home."
"True, but still it's hard to imagine spending that much on a boat."
"What if you owned one of those huge yachts and sailed the world all year, it would be your home, what about that?" I asked.
As a joke Carlo asked if he could rent a Russian boy toy, "He could hand feed me fruit and wait on me all day with no clothes on and his beautiful body always on display."
I asked him to consider a situation, "Carlo imagine you are a 17 year old peasant boy from very rural Thailand. You work the land with your family growing rice. You've never been in a motorized vehicle or an airplane, you've never been in a mall or a supermarket or seen a movie but you have seen a TV at someone else's house. You've never had shoes and spent most of your day wearing a tiny loin cloth. You're muscular and in great physical shape and someone comes to town and offers you a chance to work on a private yacht sailing the world, learn a new language. Your job will include being a human sex toy and will be expected to work naked as a household servant and your employer can touch you anyway they wish, anytime they wish. You'll make more money in one month than your family earned in a year doing heavy manual farm labor ($3,000 cash with free meals and healthcare). Would you take that job?"
Carlo sat there smiling for a moment, "It would be very tempting, a chance to start a new life, see the world, make good money, and all I gotta do is let them touch my dick anytime they wish and maybe fuck me on the floor with people watching. I'd want some kind of assurance about my safety, but yes I might take that job in that situation."
We talked about large boats for a while and what size I might be able to afford in the future. "I was thinking about 100 to 150 feet long with two diesel engines, generators, two electric motors to drive two props. Fiberglass body with a metallic skeleton inside, maybe three stories tall, crew quarters, full kitchen and laundry, water systems, sewage, three or four bedrooms, living room, air conditioning, maybe a hot tub and a small gym, maybe four to seven million used. I would never buy a boat that had a fire, sunk, or wrecked the hull. I would consider a partial sinking like if it got beached in a storm but the hull and frame was undamaged. I would only trust hull repairs if it was steel."
"How big was that yacht out on Acapulco Bay?"
"Maybe 300 feet, probably less but I'm guessing."
"I would have liked to see the inside of it." He commented and I replied with a, `me too.'
I told him I've had my eye out for a used boat, the 95 Motor Yacht was one model I liked but the inside would need to be re-done. The problem with most of them is they're designed to impress friends but they're not necessarily functional, they're like floating high end hotel rooms. If I was going to live on a yacht it needed to be functional, not pretty. It could take almost half a mil to make a Motor yacht functional, but 95 foot is a little small for a ship without sails crossing the ocean. "I don't want a kitchen that's big on empty floor space and low on storage. Empty space is a big issue for me but boat designers love it."
The day was getting long and Carlo asked if he could go below and use the bathroom while the seas were smaller, I waved him off and took over the captain's chair. It felt a little cooler out too so I expected we'd both be getting dressed soon.
While he was gone I turned on the radar but it showed nothing for thirty miles around us.
About twenty minutes later he wanted to start dinner so we looked at the inventory list and picked what he had the most of us: canned fish as a salad on lettuce with more dressing and heated sliced potatoes, melted butter, pepper, salt, ground red peppers.
From the helm you could see the area in front of the kitchen counter, he never appeared there so twenty minutes later after a close visual scan of the horizon all the way around I strapped the wheel and went below.
I found Carlo on his back with his arms out to the side and a smile on his face. I crawled in beside him and slid my hand up his shirt. Carlo said Susan was the only place he felt truly safe since he left Cozumel.
I strummed his tits with my finger tips and kissed his tummy which made my dick start to wake up, so I went back to the helm and he appeared in the kitchen and started making our dinner.
With the remainder of our head of lettuce he came back up on deck with two large bowls loaded with lettuce (oil & vinegar, salt & pepper) and tuna salad on top. We chased it with coffee and good conversation by the helm. After dinner he washed our gear and wiped down the kitchen counters.
He stood beside me at the helm and together we watched the sun sink into the ocean, I kept my arm around his silky soft lower back.
I told him in our apartment I would like to maintain sort of a minimalist attitude towards possessions, but Carlo said nothing about that. My guess was he would wait and see what happened. It would be a long time until we got there. I knew eventually we would disagree about TV noise in the apartment.
"Have you ever worked at a restaurant?" I asked.
"Yes, I did for three years in high school back in Laredo, it was a local place near school."
"You're a decent cook you know."
"Yes, that's another topic that wasn't allowed to be mentioned around my parents, my mom was the best cook, end of discussion." I just shook my head side to side and considered telling him my nanny cooked most of my meals but decided not to.
The shoreline of Mexico sat at about the same angle from Acapulco all the way to Puerto Vallarta. The trade winds blew along the coast from Valdez, Alaska to Panama, north to south. That was exactly the wrong direction for us, but not a deal breaker. I found the further out from shore you sailed the more the wind direction varied which sometimes translated into less zigzagging and better speed.
Our weather was great and the seas were a little high but otherwise fine. We started to get some spray off the left side so we lowered the side panel and that made the climate on the back deck very nice. Carlo said he took his evening med before he started dinner. I asked him how he felt and he said he almost felt back to normal but was still a little weak feeling. I used my thumb to gently pull down his lower eyelid to look at the color of the flesh, it's a good indicator of anemia. He said getting back into a regular routine on land with daily runs would help, I strongly agreed with him and said we'd need to develop a running route in LA, one that was safe. I advised him it may be difficult to do.
"Are there any leftovers?"
"Nope, we ate all of it."
I told him that the young couple I carried across the canal brought the mattress from the captain's bunk up on deck, he went below and unstrapped it and dragged it up onto the deck and dropped it on the deck behind the captain's chair and then tossed a sleeping bag on it and went to bed, closed his eyes.
Carlo woke up at 1am and told me to trade places with him.
Saturday February 17, 2019. Day #34.
Day #3 of 6 sailing to Cabo San Lucas.
That morning I told Carlo we were over halfway to Cabo now, then I showed him the atlas and the coast of Mexico and our location along the route I programmed into the GPS. On the little GPS screen it looked like a long rectangular box with a line down the center with us represented as an arrow on top of the center line, we were exactly on course. He patted my shoulder and mumbled `Nerd' at me, we both chuckled.
I made us brunch today, we sort of (permanently) changed our eating schedule to just two meals per day, around 11am and sunset. I made us scrambled (powdered eggs) eggs with sliced pan fried Spam slices. We sarcastically started calling them Pan Steaks, he did the cleanup. We tossed two steaks into the ocean since we didn't have any ice left. I told him we were close to Puerto Vallarta now, but probably all we'd see might be an airplane contrail. We were too far from land to see any cruise ships.
I noticed today his energy seemed higher and he was laughing more and smiling more. After brunch he sat beside me and read his book for a while.
I noticed he touched his dick a lot and asked what he was reading, he showed me the cover, the book was called The House on Pearl Street, he said it was a gay suspense/mystery book with some hot sex scenes, he was in one of those now. I looked down at his groin and saw the lump in his shorts so I reached down and adjusted his position so it sat along his thigh, his one eyed mushroom head winked at me. We both chuckled and he kept reading. I felt myself getting hard knowing he was turned on.
Next time I glanced down at him I saw a drop of clear goo on the tip of his head so I reached down and wiped it off and ate it, but he ignored me and kept reading. "You can read out loud if you want." But he said it was too weird for that, it was sort of a group sex scene, the youngest character was strapped down on a table and tortured with pleasure by everyone else, they made him come a few times. I asked what part he was in now and he said they drugged him and he was getting woozy and realized he was being taken for milk production with the entire community watching.
"Wow." I commented, then Carlo set the book down, he said he'd read the book a few times before because it turned him on, gave him ideas. I reached down and pinched his head and licked his goo off my fingers. Carlo got up and went down into the cabin without saying anything.
He came back after a few minutes, naked with a curved boner that pointed straight up, like if he started to pee it would hit his chin. That sight immediately turned me on. He came up to me and kissed me and pulled my mouth to his chest, but my hand gripped his dick, my thumb slid back and forth across his head.
I think I sucked on his tits for about three minutes then bent over and took his head in my mouth, he rose up on his toes and sort of upward fucked my mouth. I unlocked the seat to face him, bent over, and took him back in my mouth. He felt so wonderful, like a big marshmallow that oozed salty goo for me, I wished he could make it faster.
When my mouth needed a break I rubbed the mushroom over my face and stroked it tightly. When I took him back he whispered that he needed to come, so I pulled off, strapped the wheel, and got on my knees between his legs. He slinked down so his body was straight as a board, his eyes towards the sky but tightly shut.
I took him back in my mouth and worked him with my tongue and slowly slid up and down and gripped his shaft and rotated my hand, he moaned with a deep growl, which was my only warning. We're the same, when we moaned that meant that if you kept doing that specific thing we'd come soon.
I kept working him, pressed his head against the roof of my mouth with my tongue and worked his shaft by hand, his moaning increased as he held his mouth open, his eyes tightly shut. I actually paid close attention to how I worked him and what made him moan, it wasn't always the same thing or the same places but they were close.
Not too long after that he started moaning in agony as his orgasm started and he humped upward into my mouth as he produced a rather large volume of semen. I swallowed several times, his load was much larger than normal but it tasted like Carlo.
I pulled off and licked his popsicle enough to get all the semen, then I milked it with my fingers to squeeze out the last drops. His body became totally limp, looked like he passed out on the bench.
After he was done producing milk I moved up and licked out his belly button and moved up further and lip locked on one of his tits and stretched it out until he moaned and pulled my skull closer. I stayed on his tit for a few minutes then went to the other and rubbed my lips across it the same way I did to his mushroom head. Eventually our mouths met and we made out with a lot of passion, I told him I loved him with my kiss and he did the same back to me. We'd previously agreed that a particular kiss meant `I love you,' and we both did it a few times. Our message was a tiny lip tip kiss made with a faint smooch sound, on tips of his lips. Then I told him it meant the exact same thing if I did it on his tits, he smiled and nodded yes.
I went back to the helm to check our heading while he got to his feet but his erection was gone, his tits were wet with saliva and he looked freshly fucked, his relaxed smile confirmed his satisfaction.
A couple minutes later he stood by my chair and gently shoved my shoulder and told me I was a fucking dick licking pussy fag. I looked at his face and saw his evil grin and wink, I knew he was kidding around, trying to provoke rougher play, so I gently hit his dick and told him it stunk like a hooker's cunt.
Then Carlo shoved my shoulder again and yelled, "Screw you faggot." I could see he was trying hard to keep a serious face.
I stood up and strapped the wheel again and stepped towards him and warned him if he said that again he'd pay the price.
"Up yours faggot!" He said looking up in my eyes as if he was about to spit in my face, so I angrily pulled off my clothes, of course I was fully erect. I looked around and saw a tube of suntan lotion near the windshield so I squeezed a bunch of it on my palm and lubed myself and approached him. Carlo stood still with his hands on his hips, still naked, breathing deeply.
I lunged at him and got him in a head lock from behind and forced him down onto the deck on his stomach, I spread his legs and pried his ass cheeks apart and rubbed the rest of the lotion on his hole and rammed my dick inside him. He literally groaned in pain and his body struggled, once I was all the way inside I started humping him on the deck near the cabin door. No cushions, no care about his comfort, I fucked him hard on the floor for about six minutes. When I felt close to coming I pulled out and shoved him over and jerked myself by hand and came all over his front side. I spurt out three long ropes that landed from his face to his belly button, then I got to my feet and stood over him while it dripped for a few seconds then I kicked his foot and yelled at him to `fuck off! Now who's the pussy?'
I went back to the benches all the way in back and sat down to cool off, Carlo got up and stood there with a weird smile on his face then ran at me. He landed on my thighs and smeared his gooey front side against mine and we kissed with more energy than we ever have before, he kissed me like if it got any stronger he'd be biting my face. His lips and tongue worked all over my face, which also gave me a small chance to clean my semen off his face with my tongue. We were both hot and sweaty and panting. I leaned my head forward and sucked hard on one of his big tits again. He tried to stand up but I wouldn't release his tit.
Eventually he broke free and stood up rubbing his chest and laughed while watching me. We both looked like we both just got raped. Then we laughed some more and he told me he was a little creeped-out by my loud angry voice, he'd never heard me yell like that.
I told him he never saw me in the courtroom. Carlo said he'd like to watch sometime. I told him he was invited.
Carlo bent over and gently kissed me again and told me, "Thank you, it was quite nice being mock raped," I slow-nodded yes like a servant before the King.
He went below and came back up on deck with the bucket and we gave each other showers with drinking water rinses. I felt the difference in how much cooler the ocean was now compared to Panama. I told him I'd like to do that again, trying to play along he shouted, "Shut the fuck up!" Then we laughed again because he's horrible at faking anger.
"You know Carlo, your fake angry voice is about as scary as a six year old in a Casper the Ghost costume." He told me to shut (t.f.) up again!
I told Carlo I used the web site called Chaturbate back in Florida, there was a tab for Trans I liked to look at, I could usually find an Asian looking guy taking hormones with tits just like his. They looked like when they started taking hormones their tits were the first thing to grow, then they grew breasts. But lots of them had huge puffy nips that were excellent for sucking and kissing. Carlo said he knew what to get me for Christmas now, but I had no idea what he was thinking. I told him part of the reason why I liked his tits was against my lips and tongue they felt very similar to the head of his dick.
Late that afternoon we saw a large southbound tanker that reminded me of the story told by Carly, how they left Seattle as paying passengers on a tanker carrying millions of gallons of diesel fuel to the Faulklands. I briefly told Carlo some of their story, their month long trip from Seattle to the Faulklands.
Carlo asked why England guarded those islands as if they were made of gold. I told him if something bad happened to the Panama Canal the Faulklands would be a strategic place for huge ships to stop for repairs, fuel, or other help as everyone was forced to sail around South America until the canal re-opened. If anything bad happened to the canal it would take many years to re-open and England would patrol and control that waterway at the southern tip, they've been doing it for hundreds of years because of its military and economic importance to the world.
He asked what could go wrong on the canal. I told him if guys with machine guns hijacked a heavy freighter and ran it at full speed into the highest lock, smashed the gates at both ends, the lake could drain and shut down the entire operation. It could have a bigger world effect on commerce than World War-2.
"If something like that happened it could be ten years before it re-opened."
We spent most of the day near each other talking about ourselves.
"I asked before but we never discussed it, I'm asking because I want to know, you ever been arrested?"
He shook his head no, I told him I hadn't been arrested either, not even a DWI, `but I was illegally detained in Miami for a day.'
"You ever been beat-up?" I asked.
He lowered his chin then looked off in the distance and nodded yes. "Before, during, or after high school?"
"Before." When he said that I guessed it was his father but I could be wrong.
"You ever been raped or molested?" As soon as I said that he swallowed and looked further away. Then I mumbled, "Not counting today." He glanced at me with a big smile but acted like he was going to ignore the question, but we were only about three feet apart. After almost fifteen seconds he nodded yes but wouldn't make eye contact with me. Again I assumed it was his father but I was guessing, after all he was raised very Catholic.
"If you ever want to talk about it, I'm cool with that. It'll be our secret. And just so you know, I got beat up five times from fourth grade to the end of high school. Since the last time had witnesses my dad sued the family and the school. The kid got busted by the cops, the state prosecuted him anyway because one of the other kids involved was stupid enough to shoot video and show it around school. You could say I got a shark's appetite for bullies."
Carlo finally looked back, swallowed and smiled at me.
To change the subject Carlo asked to use the satellite phone to call his mom but had a hard time explaining that he couldn't talk long he was on a sat phone. She was mad because it had been so long since he called her. I think he ended up pushing the button to hang up on her. His call ended with, "Okay Mom, just wanted you to know I'm still in Mexico, I'm fine, and I gotta go. Love you, bye." He never mentioned Miguel, but she probably knew already. When I carried the sat phone back down to my desk I plugged it in and went through the menus and found one marked MISSED CALLS. I opened it and scrolled to through the list to mid January and found four from Carlo's old cell number. So he wasn't lying when he said he tried to call me to come back and get him. As I shut off the phone and put it away I nearly cried. I brought my laptop back up on deck to run through my email in-box.
I managed to bring up the subject of my case in Miami, the events that forced me to leave Florida. At the hotel it was one of the hundreds of emails I never opened, now that I was bored I went through the emails on my computer and read that one out loud to him.
"This came from a friend of mine in Saint Pete, a private investigator, about of the sentencing of Tyrone Rivera in Miami Federal Court. He wrote, `He was sentenced to five consecutive life sentences with no possibility for parole, and he'll be transferred to a federal prison in Colorado and could be exercise yard buddies with Ted Kaczynski." The feds seized his assets to pay his victims something, and ten other Miami Police officers and jailers were also awaiting sentencing, more arrests were anticipated relating to their criminal enterprise. This became the single largest organized crime bust in Florida history. He said there were thousands of yard signs around the city calling for closing the Miami Police Department and replacing them with a private service that actually obeyed the laws of the state.
Carlo asked if that made me happy and I said no, I thought it was disgusting what people did to each other.
He asked for the third grade explanation of the case. I told him about thirty police department people started a commercial laundry operation and a small assembly-line factory. They couldn't hire people to work for the pay they offered so they used jail inmates as slave labor, and when they needed more workers they snatched Cubans off the street and forced them to work, then after a couple months most were released without being charged with anything, so it was clearly kidnapping. All of them had their rights violated and many were beat for not working fast enough, refusing to work, or being uncooperative. Some people died in custody, some of them from injuries from beatings for refusing to be slave labor.
Carlo said he thought it sounded criminal. I told him Tyrone's biggest newest worry was being killed in prison because he squealed on elected officials during the trial. He would probably be suicided in prison.
Carlo got comfortable on the mattress behind my chair on the deck. I lowered all the plastic panels so we didn't get too cool, but it looked like our nights of sleeping naked on the back deck were over, we were sailing north during winter.
I asked him if he took his pill and he said yes, two a day and the Gatorade was gone. He said he had two antibiotic pills left.
I told him we should arrive in Cabo the day after tomorrow, probably during the daylight hours.
Sunday February 18, 2019. Day #35.
Day #4 of 6 sailing to Cabo San Lucas.
We tried fishing this morning but caught nothing. He said we should watch for dolphins then try fishing. We hadn't seen any fins poking out of the sea or dolphins jumping in a while. We talked about trying to poop using the life saver ring but decided not to 100 miles from shore. Carlo asked if I had knives for disassembling a large fish so I took him into the cabin and got out the rolled-up leather case in a cabinet that held the butchering knives, a rather expensive set. I also confessed that I had never butchered a fish before, he said he did when he was a kid.
That morning I showed him more photos and video I shot of Dave and Carly. He said he liked Dave's body too. I told him his was far superior, but Dave was a great young man, he'd probably really like him. "I think she had a twitter page for their adventures so family and friends could stay up to date, when we get to LA I'll try to contact them again."
I told Carlo he should fly his mom here to visit after we got settled, maybe take her to Disney. He said that was cool, he was sure she'd come out if she could get someone to watch the store, and it wouldn't surprise him if she sold the tire store, if she hadn't already. Carlo mumbled that he was glad to be gone from that place and said he never wanted to handle tires again. He sort of stood up, leaned into me and gave me several I Love You kisses then sat back down and picked up his book.
We started brunch around 10:30am, almost a repeat of yesterday: pan steaks, scrambled eggs, and canned asparagus on the side. He cooked then I cleaned-up. He took his morning pill and drank an entire 16 ounce bottle of water. After breakfast we bucket showered each other. I really liked the way he hand washed between my legs, front and back. I loved the way his body felt when it was wet and soapy. I loved the way his nips popped back into shape after I slid my soapy hand across them. During his shower he peed over the side which gave me the chance to check the color. His urine was yellowish clear like normal, the dark brown color was gone.
After showers and rinses we talked about buying another boat, I told Carlo I'd need to win another class action suit, probably when I started working there they'd assign me new clients and help me find a new class with a suitable defendant. That law group had sued the LA cops a few times and made tons of money, like their famous Rodney King case years ago.
"Like how much money you think you'll need for the next boat?"
"Oh, if it's used maybe three to six mil for a boat one hundred to one fifty feet long and readily able to cross the ocean, maybe one mil of that to upgrade and repair it."
"Hard to imagine, but I suppose I'll get used to those numbers over time." He said with a chuckle.
"Yes, you will. But if I could land a really big settlement and pocket maybe twelve mil, we could actually retire and spend the rest of our lives sailing around the world on that boat."
"Wow, I can't even imagine that. Like, how long does it take to sail around the world at a leisurely pace?"
"Oh, maybe four months. The problem would be finding ports with space or we'd be at anchor everywhere. The good piers and times are reserved decades in advance by the people with huge ships that lived on their boats with a crew. I don't want to live like that but since neither of us is a diesel mechanic we'd probably need to hire a small crew, maybe two or three people."
Carlo said he wanted to do the crew interviews, then followed that with an evil laugh, we both laughed at the thought. Then he asked me something that really surprised me, he asked if all these plans would be easier if we were married.
I was actually very surprised he asked as if he was proposing to me. But in keeping with my policy on being bluntly honest I told him, "If our thing in Cozumel hadn't happened I might have asked you during this trip, but for now I need to re-establish if you're trustworthy."
Carlo sat there staring off in the distance then tears dripped down his cheeks. I was on the captain's seat and he was near me on the bench that ran most of the way around the back deck. He leaned forward and rested his head and upper body on my lap and cried for a few minutes then went below deck for a while. I suspected he opened the whiskey bottle and took a few swigs and came back up on deck to read his book.
I think he had things he wanted to say but decided to remain silent on the matter.
A while later he asked if I trusted the two hitch hikers and I told him, "No, not entirely. I didn't think they were dangerous or hiding from the law, their story was totally believable."
Then he asked if I trusted him, "Not entirely, no. It may return in time. This is one of those mysterious emotional things I really don't understand. Re-gaining my trust may be like making amends with a child, but I don't know for sure. Over time if you are reliable and honest it will come back. How long that takes depends entirely on you."
Carlo told me again he was sorry, it was a stupid thing he did and he didn't intend to hurt me, he was dealing with issues from his childhood that he didn't understand and didn't have anyone (in his family) to talk to about them. I told him to chill out and let's just have fun and move forward and try to make a good life in Los Angeles, do the best we can each day.
During our chat about sailing around the world I told him that the super wealthy that lived on those super yachts kept a calendar, they followed the seasons and certain big annual events, like the race in Monaco. How long it took them to circle the planet wasn't based on anything but their own plans.
I also explained that some people lived on yachts that stayed most of the year in one spot, which lowered the costs. If the boat never sailed then there was almost no need for a mechanic, only a servant that cleaned up and cooked some meals.
For the rest of the day we were kind of quiet, we both put on jeans and T-shirts as the temperature got lower, now down to the mid 80s but with the wind it felt like low 60s on the back deck. We slept that night like the others, him on the mattress on the deck behind the helm, I steered most of the night but he got up a couple times to pee and check on me. I actually got up about every hour to walk around the back deck and stretch my legs and back.
That night at 3am we saw flickering freighter lights in the distance, otherwise we never saw any signs of humanity except an occasional jet way up in the sky because our route was rather far from land, futher from land than the fishing charters went.
Contact the author by email: borischenaz gmail
You've reached page 387 in the paperback edition.
As of today my plans are to begin writing the pre-quel to Response Team as my next new book. Hopefully it should start to appear on Nifty in February 2022.