A quiet time, when the locals even shop in thoughtful and leisurely relaxation, and when the long bars in Dirty Dick’s, the Junkanoo and Blackbeard’s Tavern are empty.
We walked past the straw market and the rental boats out to the wharf area, carrying our minimal luggage.
“I never really believed you’d never take me on a cruise, dear,” Meyer said.
“How did you get so lucky?”
I found an official-looking mustachioed fellow who told me that the Monica D. would tie up at the wharf about one o’clock, and a Dutch boat was due in the evening. We checked the bags at the Prince George Hotel, and then we went shopping for some little remembrance for Ans Terry and his lady. Meyer was dubious about our being able to find anything of sufficient symbolic impact. I said we’d look around, buy what we found and then, after meeting the gentleman, decide whether or not it was reasonable to expect a useful reaction. The more off balance he was by tomorrow morning, the more deadly would be the effect of seeing Vangie.
It was Meyer who spotted the display of dolls in a case in Solomon’s Mines, beckoned me over and pointed one out. Dolls of all nations. And the Japanese one bore a faint resemblance to Vangie. She was about five inches tall, beautifully made. The clerk took it out of the case for us. Black hair was glued in place, and the kimono was sewed on. We bought it. At Kelly’s Hardware we bought a spool of fine wire, a piece of soft sculptor’s stone, a file and a carving knife.
We repaired to the pleasantly dark bar at the Carlton House on East Street. When the bartender had fixed us each one of their superb planter’s punches and moved away, Meyer said, “I am extremely nervous, Trav. This is a long way from economic theory. I’m certain I’m going to make some terrible blunder.”
I realized he could not function in a vacuum and play it by ear as we went along. People need an identity, a place to stand. I said, “McGee and Meyer are both from Fort Lauderdale. They came over separately. Meyer had some talks with people on the Nassau Development Board about the economic consequences of a change in the corporate tax structure or some damn thing, at your usual per them and expenses. McGee came over with a batch of people joining a big party going on at Paradise Beach and now that the party is running out of charge, he’s heading home. We ran into each other on Bay Street. We’re casual acquaintances. We’re going back on the same ship, but you bore me. I’m more interested in lining up some dainty lollipop. Maybe I can get some mileage out of you by sticking your thumb in Ans Terry’s buttonhole while I cut his lollipop out of the pack. Or maybe it might work the other way. The legendary Meyer charm might work well on the lollipop, while I trick Ans into going down to your squalid accommodations where I can thump his head and lace him to your bunk. Anyway, we establish a message center and get to work giving them the eerie feeling there is something gone wrong in the world, a warp in reality, some cogs slipping in their skulls. They’re ice-cold, Meyer. Heartless and murderous. But any savage animal gets bad nerves when confronted with the inexplicable. We just give them a Halloween party, with a few goblins to think about.”
“That particular smile, McGee. I am very glad you have no good reason to come looking for one Meyer. Okay, I feel better. Skoal!”
We stood in the dusty shade and watched them, with casual skill, latch the Monica D. to the wharf. She was dressed up to come in, flapping with as many pennants and flags and banners as three new gas stations on opening day. Deck crew in whites, and the packed, expectant, gaudy, gabbling pack of passengers crowding the starboard side of B Deck where the gangplank would be affixed. This was the last romantic port of call, and I could well imagine that their cruise director had made some dampening comments about shopping on Bay Street. This is standard procedure. The cruise directors hawk the marvels of the wares at those ports where they have set up a kickback from the shops. At St. Thomas and Kingston the cruise directors give glowing recommendations about specific shops. But they can’t pry any kickbacks out of Bay Street because it is too well, too solidly established, too world-renowned to give a hoot. The big machine chews up the people, but it gives fair value.