"As long as he does not drool!" Heath shot Orli a very dirty look, "My toes were just washed in the fresh sea spray!"
"Oh no!" Orli barked twice, and screamed dramatically, "Not the fresh sea spray! Salty and filled with the excretion and corpses of a million little fishes!" Heath turned green. "And not to mention the corpses of all those individuals who have died in Maritime disasters!" Heath turned even greener. "The fish feed on the eyeballs first." Heath turned so green, a shade greener would have not been possible. "Oops! I forgot to mention that we EAT this fish �"
"Say one more word and I�ll strangle you!" Heath screeched at his little friend who cowered for a slight moment, "It�s FRESH sea spray!"
"Oh yes. About as fresh as the crusty bread in the back of my car I used for a primary three science fair project on mold!" Orli grinned his prize-winning grin and with a wild cry of anguish, Heath dropped his surfboard into the sand and tore after the other who had about two milliseconds of head start. "If you kill me, you�re going to have to explain to my agent!!"
"If I don�t kill you," Heath hollered, "You�re going to answer to my lawyer! Lawyer! Lawyer! Aussie lawyer! For destruction of the PEACE!"
"Peace?" I grinned, "No such thing on this cruise nor this beach!"
"Especially with HIM!" The Aussie had suddenly whipped around and snarled, but Orli took this moment to take a dive behind a shower house, and Heath kept on running, following the other�s footprints which leapt out of the surf and onto the white sands. "Now where are you? YOU CAN RUN BUT YOU CAN�T HIDE!"
"Can too!" Orli squeaked back.
"Arg." Heath suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, "If you�re going to hide, you�re not supposed to answer me!"
"Oh?" A certain voice called back, "You have ANSWERED my PRAYERS!"
"Oh no!" We whimpered as we realized that one of the many tourists Heath and Orli had scrambled or jumped over was actually none other than . . . "DeGroot!"
"Now, now, now, laddie!" None other than our ex-physics teacher stomped over to the Aussie who was staring suspiciously at a trail of footprints which suddenly disappeared before a wooden shower house, "Where are my flippy-floppies?"
"Your flippy-floppies?" Heath turned and scratched his head, "I have no idea, sir. Where did you place them last?"
"On my feet!" DeGroot pointed to his feet that were now shod with green flippy-floppies, "I have lost my pink ones!"
"Oh. Really." Orli peeked a head out from the exterior of the shower house, "One of them smacked against my pretty little forehead!"
"YOU HAVE STOLEN MY FLIPPY-FLOPPIES!" DeGroot hollered at the top of his lungs, and as Heath grabbed him, Orli dove back behind the hut with a small squeak. "Give them back!"
"Oh, it�s YOU!" Heath finally studied DeGroot, "One of your flip flops is in my cabin and the other one is in the sea somewhere."
"Oh." DeGroot stopped struggling against Heath and sagged onto the sand, tears leaking out of his eyes. With a wobble in his voice and a trembling lip, he suddenly grabbed onto Heath and cried, "MY FLIP-FLOPS!"
"You have new ones." Heath tried to walk away, but DeGroot kept a firm grip on his legs, "Let go of me."
"My precious flippy-floppies! Oh what a short time you have served me in life, and now in death! Oh how I mourn for thee!" DeGroot bawled so loudly, the lifeguards atop their tall thrones looked down at Heath angrily. "I mourn! I mourn for thee!"
"Oh no." Elsie murmured, "Not the flippy-floppies again."
"Hmm," I looked around and wondered if there were any of those flea-market booths about that sold flip-flops. Unfortunately, this was not California, and there was none. There were booths catering everything to tourists from custom designed driftwood carvings to toothpick holders. Arg.
"Let go of me!" Heath managed to get one leg free, but with DeGroot�s death grip on the other, the Aussie began to kick rapidly at our dear old ex-physics� teacher�s head, which (as it was attached to the body) kept on rebounding back with every kick. "What are you, a kicking-bag?"
"OOH!" DeGroot moaned, "I think I�ve got a toothache!"
"I�ll kick out your teeth if you don�t let go of me!" Heath grabbed the nearest thing and used it to pull himself from DeGroot�s grip.
Fortunately, he succeeded.
Unfortunately, it was the door handle of the shower house.
Fortunately, the handle did not snap off.
Unfortunately, the door opened.
Fortunately, the occupant did not notice.
Unfortunately, the occupant soon did notice.
Fortunately, the occupant did not know who had done the deed.
Unfortunately, it took very little brain cells for the occupant to do the rapid calculations.
"AHHHH!" A very, very, very surprised Prime Minister of Canada screamed at the top of his lungs, grabbing a very ugly pink towel to cover himself, "AHHHHH!"
From all corners of the bridge, at least a dozen guys in suits rushed over to the shower house, and on a normal day, this would have been quite usual. People screaming at the top of their lungs usually attracted SOME attention. This, however, was not a normal day. The dozen men were all dressed in dark suits with little clear plastic windy ear-pieces and the bulges in their suits indicated shoulder holsters. Definitely not beach attire.
"Heath, what have you done?!" Zoe moaned as two of the guys in suits leapt across the white sand and without so much as a squeak, had tackled Heath down onto the ground, two others were very systematically fanning the area with black revolvers while the rest of them formed a human shield around a very pink John Manley (and it was not because of the towel) and ushered him away. "Aussies!"
"Let me go!" Heath was screeching into the sand, "I am an OSCAR winner!" Unfortunately, with his face pressed into the sand, he sounded like he was saying, �I am gold! I want to be an Oscar wiener.�
"Would you like ketchup with that?" An agent growled and pressed Heath deeper into the sand, "You have committed a very serious offense. Assault of the Prime Minister. You have your right to remain silent. You have the right to an attorney. And if you are a wiener, we will eat you for lunch." Mr. DeGroot had taken this opportunity to scamper. Like us, he thought that having a big team of guys in suits running to tackle people into the sand was not a good idea. "Do you have any identification on you?"
"Yes! I�m Australian!" The Aussie growled through a mouthful of sand (it sounded like �Yum! I am eye straw lion!�) Methodically, the agent who was not currently holding Heath in the sand fished out a passport and began thumbing it through.
"You are under arrest." The agent grabbed Heath and slapped handcuffs on him, "I do not believe that this is your passport."
"What do you mean it isn�t mine?!" Heath demanded, and the agent flipped it open to the first identification page. Instead of a passport photo of the Aussie, there was stuck, instead a picture of none other than Legolas Greenleaf. And on the identification line, �Gabriel, son of Guy with Ugly Horsetail� from a certain �One of the Original Fourteen Colonies.� And as if that were not enough, from the passport fell four long white feathers. The Aussie closed his eyes for the briefest moment and let loose a gigantic growl, "ORLANDO, I�M GOING TO SKIN YOU ALIVE!"
"Tee hee hee." Orli snuck out from the back of the shower hut, looking extremely pleased with himself, but had a starfish and sand stuck in his hair, "Wasn�t the Guy with the Ugly Horsetail a good touch?"
"There are only THIRTEEN American colonies, you idiot!" The Aussie roared as the suited guys dragged him away, "And I am NOT an ELF!" As if on cue, Elf wandered over from where DeGroot�s wife had been looking after him and drooled on Orli�s toes. "You�re going to pay for this BRIT!"
"Do you know this man?" The agent pointed to Heath whom he had just shoved into the unmarked patrol car (John Manley had been whisked away), "He seems to know you."
"Have you given him a breathalyzer?" Orli pretended to be concerned, "He seems drunk!"
"You�re right." The agent growled and promptly slammed the door in Orli�s face before the car speeded away on the sand, towards a main road.
"Of course I am." He snarled, "I am always right!"
"That wasn�t really nice. Swapping passports." I shrugged, "I suppose it�s your idea of British fun."
"Well, Mr. I-Surf-So-Well-So-Let�s-Go-Make-Fun-Of-Brit-Friend-And-Call-Him-Orfie can go sit in the can a little while." Orli shrugged, and picked up his surf board, "Let�s go return these and check out those sights we were talking about." He sighed, "You know, Aussies are so stupid." Zoe bristled. "I was hiding behind the little shower hut and I bet he couldn�t see me at all!"
"Want to bet?" Elsie replied, dryly, "Fifty bucks."
"Well, no." Orli shrugged, "You see, I observed this skill from ostriches of the British moors." He gave a deep and academic sigh, "When the gigantic cougars are about to pounce on them, the large birds simply insert their heads into the sand. Voila! They can not see the cougar. Therefore, the cougar can not see them."
"Orli, you are pathetic." I sighed, "Ostriches do not live in Britain. Moors do not have sand. Cougars do not live in Britain or where there are naturally occurring ostriches."
"Maybe it was a test-tube ostrich and a test-tube cougar!" Orli suggested, dramatically, "Alas! Thus, I must observe! When Heath the big cougar was after me, I simply had to impale my own head into yonder white sand! And voila! I could not see Heath. Heath could not see me."
"What a chicken!" I muttered, "And an Oscar winner, too!"
"Ostrich. Not chicken." Orli puffed out his chest and gave a few seal barks (Elf happily joined in). As he walked away, the purple starfish at the back of his head began to move. Orli froze in his steps. "What was that?"
"Thee sports starfish on thy head." Elsie pointed out so calmly, "Tell me in five words or less, why is there a starfish on your head." It was not a question.
"There�s a WHAT on my head?!" He screeched (six words) and jumped about three meters into the air (should try out for high jump, he should) as he groped at the back of his head with frantic fingers, "GET IT OFF ME!"
"Alas, poor Yorick!" I groaned, "What is the world coming to?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking." An intercom system normally used to broadcast the day�s menus crackled to life as soon as us, tourists began pouring back onto the ship after a day of white beaches and arrest (for some). "Due to an unforeseen delay involving one of our passengers, we will be unable to continue our journey as promptly as foreplanned. The next few days will be spent in this harbor, and an optional tour package will be available. Sorry for any inconveniences. All travel plans will be automatically adjusted and this is complimentary."
"Ah," Orli (who had ridded himself of the starfish, but still had sand in his dark hair) grinned and flopped down onto a large deck chair, "Why couldn�t we sail on without Heath? I will enjoy having a cabin to myself!" As the day was almost over, most of the passengers were in the dining saloon which we decided to visit once it had quieted down a little. Currently, we were lounging about on the pool deck, rearranging the deck chairs so that they would read �Orli� if read from a helicopter.
"Celebrities like you should learn to share." I growled miserably, pushing at a chair while Orli studied us at work, "Greedy and rambunctious."
"Ooh." He slipped off his shades and faked a shutter, "Cruel. Harsh. Mean."
"�Tis is the life of a bag lady." I snapped back shoving the final chair for the dot of the �i� in place. "Why couldn�t we write �HELP� or something?"
"Hmm." Orli hopped up from his chair, "Why don�t we hit the karaoke stage again?"
"I think not." Elsie growled, and whipped out a very small and compact cellular phone which would have easily fit inside a slim wallet, "I have a call I need to take." As if on cue, the phone began to ring and with a wave, our friend walked off and the chilly night air began to blow across the deck, and I shuttered slightly. Elf had resumed his drooling over Orli�s toes and by now, he was so used to it, did not notice.
"That was a productive day." Zoe tried to stimulate a little conversation as we walked into the ship, "Spending the entire morning and afternoon, but still, we have not been able to find ol� Heath."
"If I know the Canadian government," I growled, "They would have let him into the country by now on asylum regulations. �Demented.�"
"Mmm." Orli flipped out his own passport and was relieved to see his own face in his passport photo (which I noted was of him receiving his stupid Oscar), "I wonder if Heath has done any booby-trapping of his own." He grinned wildly, "Want to find out?"
"No." I grabbed Elf and pulled him from Orli�s toes, "We�ll be around in the morning to pick up the pieces."
"Okay." He shrugged, and pointed up some stairs, "I�m on A Deck, see you in a bit." He ran up the stairs so suddenly, with leaps and bounds, it seemed that there was another starfish on him. Instead, we turned to find none other than a certain DeGroot covered with what seemed to be whipped cream from head to toe with a million little squares of orange fabric stuck on.
"Mr. DeGroot!" I squeaked, "What is that?"
"I walked into my cabin and instantly, fifty well-aimed cans of whipped cream went off onto me and after that (if that was not enough) a gigantic bag of little fragments of a million orange swimsuits came crashing onto me." DeGroot growled, and the whipped cream about his face sizzled, "And among the little fragments of swimsuits was THIS." He slammed a pink flip-flop against the hallway�s wall. Indeed, it was the one Heath had taken. But instead of the normal flippy-flop wee had seen before, this one was written upon. In our Aussie friend�s neat script, down the middle of the flip-flops were the letters "ORLI."
"Oh no." I muttered, "Not again."
"Where IS HE?" DeGroot screamed, "I am going to WRING his NECK!"
"I think Heath may be interested in helping you do that." I calmly replied, "He�s on A Deck."
"G Deck!" Zoe protested stating the very lowest deck on the ship, obviously trying to lead DeGroot on a false trail, "No, H Deck!"
"There is no H-Deck!" DeGroot roared, "And G Deck are ENGINES!"
"Oops." Zoe flushed, "I mean . . ."
"A Deck!" I protested, "He ran back to his cabin!"
"YEAH RIGHT! HERE I COME!" Grabbing onto a banister, DeGroot straddled it and slid down the spiraling stairs downwards. It almost worked. Three decks down, there was a sickening crash and a whole slur of unsettling words. "ONOMATOPOEIA!" DeGroot swore finally before the flipping of his green flip-flops disappeared into the bowels of the ship.
"How did you know he was going to do that?" Zoe frowned, "I mean, for all we know, he could have ran up the stairs and pounded Orli�s guts out."
"Ooh. DeGroot pounding someone�s guts out? Sounds more like Avon!" I growled, "Besides, it�s very elementary, my dear Zoe; did you think that DeGroot would actually believe us if we told him, honestly that Orli had ran back to the most obvious place, up? The most dangerous place is oft the safest."
"Hey!" Elsie sprinted up to us, very breathless, "My paper shredder doesn�t work anymore!" She wrung her hands together nervously, "Then how will I be rid of my confidential documents my employee has faxed me? It was a quad shredder too! Very little pieces! And I only shredded THREE pieces of paper on the whole cruise and . . ." She was starting to hyperventilate, "It was HEAVY DUTY too!"
"Um," Zoe and I exchanged a look and I cleared my throat, "I think, Elsie, even the most heavy duty paper shredder would go bonkers after it shredded fifty two orange swimsuits."
"Swimsuits?" Elsie raised an eyebrow, "�Tis a PAPER shredder not a swimsuit shredder! Alas, my poor shredder!"
"You were rather attached." Zoe pointed out the obvious, "Did you name it?"
"Hmm." Elsie suddenly calmed down, "Where the swimsuits made of paper?" She seemingly answered her own question after a split second. "And ORANGE too! That�s why I couldn�t find even ONE measly orange swimsuit on this stupid piece of tin! THEY WERE SHREDDED!"
"You may want to keep quiet about the shredder. If DeGroot finds out that you have had anything to do with the shredder . . ." I gulped, "You�d be shredded!"
"DeGroot?!" Elsie roared, "He wrecked my PRECIOUS! Which way?"
"Um . . . Down!" Zoe yelped.
"Up!" I screamed.
"DOWN!" Elsie finally concluded and went sprinting down the stairs, "Aha! I see it now! Whipped cream and incriminating evidence! Orange squares!" Finally, her footsteps faded away as well.
"I suppose we�d better go clean up that mess." I growled, grabbing some Kleenex I had with me (never was a scout, folks!), "Before some crew member finds it." Zoe muttered agreeance, and we shouldn�t really have worried about the whipped cream, for Elf was crazy for it.
"Not the orange bits!" I moaned, but luckily, I had a smart dog who only went after the good stuff. "Hmm." I picked up what seemed to be the millionth orange bit of fabric and shoved it into a plastic sandwich bag (no, honestly, was never a scout!), "I wonder what Orli�s going to say when he finds out that Heath has decided to shred fifty-two swimsuits into confetti."
Zoe rolled her eyes, "I�d rather be not around to find out . . ."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"AAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Orli screeched at the top of his lungs, "NO! It can not be!" He toppled from his chair in the (fortunately) almost empty dining salon as Zoe and I confronted him with twenty-three plastic baggies of what remained of his swimsuits, clutching at his chest in a fake myocardial infarction. A very concerned Jen ran over, but saw the swimsuits and burst into gales of laughter, leaving us to deal with him. "NO!" He coughed loudly a few times and Zoe flushed to a very red color. I simply stared.
"Look, Orli. This behavior is not acceptable." I gave him the little-kid-is-misbehaving look, "At least you did not get arrested or shoved into the sand for assaulting the Prime Minister." Orli gave a low growl.
"While poor Heath is shivering alone in some jail cell somewhere and DeGroot is trying to find you and Elsie is trying to find DeGroot . . ." Zoe fretted with silverware as I dug eagerly into the light fare of what seemed to be turkey, "This is horrible!"
"No it�s not." Orli shrugged and gave that prize winning grin again, "You know, there are so many rebels in Malaysia that they�ll probably break into the jail where old Heath is staying and free him too. Ah, he would be having so much fun . . . and then when he comes back, he�ll give me a big clap on the back and say �Orli, I wish you were there.�" A very disgruntled John Manley chose this moment to walk across the dining hall, accompanied by some more of the guys in suits.
"I just came over to see how you were doing. I must apologize for that spectacle today." He gave a little grin, "I saw you surfing."
"Oh." I muttered, "That�s nice."
Orli gave a loud bark and all of the guys in suits dove for their guns, but the Prime Minister grinned weakly. "I used to be a horrible surfer." He grabbed a chair and to the surprise of his agents, joined in with Orli in a horrible rendition of �La Bumba� sang in the barks of seals.
"Oh no." I muttered again, "Not this!" Still, I whipped out my camera and shot a few times, and every time, the stupid guys in the suits cringed. Thus, I swung the camera on them, "SMILE!" That was the last thing they did. With equally angry growls, they could hardly wait for the Polaroid to develop before ripping it to shreds. "Hey." I growled, but by now, Manley had finished and gleefully accepted my Polaroid and forced Orli to give him an autograph. I forced both of them to autograph another photo I had of their chorus.
"You know," Orli took a sip at his water, "You have a nice bass. If we could get together, we could form a band." He handed John Manley what seemed to be a business card, "Call my agent some time." The prime minister looked excited, gave Orli a wave and walked off surprisingly happier than when he had come.
"Ooh. That was embarrassing." Zoe muttered, staring into the depths of her cranberry juice, "Promise me you�ll never do that again."
"PROMIS� YOU�LL �AIT FOR ME!" Orli barked, and then (as he was attracting looks from the only other diners in the salon, an elderly couple) settled down, "Ah, you Canadians just don�t know how to have fun."
"Excuse me?" We all looked up, expecting to see our waiter or at least Jen, but instead, in a crisp white uniform, an older man looked at us, almost warily, before turning to Orli, "Mr. Orlando Bloom? There is a matter of deep concern I must speak to you of, alone. If you would be so kind as to step up to the bridge after your meal, my officers will guide you to my quarters."
"What is this about?" Orli suddenly grew serious, and the other�s lined face gave away no clues. "Fine." His eyes seemed to harden, "I will be there." With a slight gesture, the uniformed man turned away.
"Hmm." I stabbed at the unfortunate turkey, "What have you cooked up, Orli? The captain wanting to see you and all . . ." They both gave me a blank look, "Arg. I thought you were into war movies. You should have checked out the markings on his sleeves."
"I was a little busy looking at another part of him," Orli growled, "Maybe they have postponed the production of Rush Hour until after I have finished my commitments with that new James Bond flick."
"Perhaps." Zoe muttered to herself, "Well, we have the PM back aboard. Once we find Heath we can set off into the grand horizon."
"Which hopefully will not include surfing, flip flops, whipped cream or swimsuits." Orli shuttered, "Or any of those evils." Suddenly, he brightened, and pushed aside his chicken Caesar salad from which he had picked all the chicken (which he then fed to Elf who was prowling under the table), "I�d best be going then," He gave us both a little grin, and checked that he had his passport before turning to go, "Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day."
"Perhaps." I growled, "But I wouldn�t bet on it." Zoe slipped a ten across the table.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A slight, but rather annoying knock on the cabin door caused me to drop the glass cruise liner I had bought (one of fifty � the other ones were broken), and I kicked at the broken glass. Not again. Grabbing Elf�s pooper-scooper, I fished up all the pieces.
"Could SOMEONE get the DOOR?" Elsie hollered from among her very long and very private telephone conversation, "NOW?!"
"Alright!" I screeched, as Zoe was very busy trying to tack up yet another Heath poster, I figured that Elsie had meant none other than myself. "Bossy . . . bossy . . . bossy . . ." The door opened easily (Zoe had forgotten to lock it again) and to my surprise, there, in front of the door was none other than a rack of swinging purple swimsuits. I didn�t even smile. "Let me guess. Orli with fifty-two."
"Fifty-one!" Orli peeked out from among the LARGE ones, "DeGroot is after me, and I need these!"
I leant over to adjust the stupid rack so that he could come in, and slammed the door behind me, "Explain."
"Fifty-one." He sputtered, "Someone bought a medium!"
"How amusing." I growled, "What do you want?"
"Your window." Orli looked around and Elsie angrily stamped out from her room, "Why, oh why can�t a civil person have a CONVERSATION around here?"
Suddenly, she spotted Orli. "Hmm."
"Alright. I have a little explanation to give." Orli took a very deep breath and stepped out of the rack of swimsuits, "I went up to the bridge, and nearly got thrown off for not abiding with the �CREW ONLY� sign, but finally managed to see the captain." He took another very deep breath and handed Elsie a folded piece of paper, "It seems that this has arrived today addressed to me."
"Hmm." Elsie repeated as she scanned briefly down the paper, "Ransom note composed of little squares of newspaper." She peeled at the corner of one and looked on the opposite side, "Looks like a Phoenix Sun to me." My friend gave me a steely look, "Indonesian terrorist organization. Thought Bush got rid of them all. Broke into jail." She gave a cold grin, "It seems your wishes have been answered, Orlando." Elsie turned to me, "Fifty million dollars. American. And if they do not have it and such and such a place by sunrise . . . something about the Prime Minister . . . and . . . You have any cash on you?"
"About fifty! Canadian. Couldn�t we take the fifty and put times ten to the sixth after it? Would they think that funny?" I grinned, but no one else did, "Why? I suppose they didn�t have much educational opportunities!"
"There is absolutely no way I can fork over that much cash as I am in a darn boat!" Orli moaned, "Hence, I have to get off this piece of tin and get to a bank before the morning! They�ll expect me to come in the morning, and maybe have some kind of surveillance on again . . . Maybe if I can find an ATM machine or something . . ."
"Okay, what are the swimsuits for?" I asked, looking at the whole rack of them, "If they were nice, I�d have one, but these are hideous!"
"They are for the rope." Orli calmly replied.
"THE ROPE?" I groaned, "There is absolutely no way I am knotting together THIS many swimsuits so that you can sneak off the boat!"
Elsie tossed me a few with a growl, "Start knotting."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"This is NOT my idea of CRUISE!" Zoe protested as we made her stay behind on the boat to pull us up when we got back, "Why can�t I go midnight madness shopping with you?"
"Because you can�t!" Elsie gave her a punch before she scaled down the rope which thankfully led onto the dock, which Orli had conveniently tied up (we concluded that he was the best swimmer), "Now stay here!"
"There�s no where else for me to go!" Zoe snarled back before I started my descent, but punched me, "You�re so stupid!"
"Hey!" I growled, "It was Elsie who punched you the first time!"
"Close enough." My friend growled, "Want a flashlight?"
"Got one." I fiddled with my backpack and pulled one out only to have it fall into the abyss below. "Never mind. Darn Solitaires. Always slippery." Zoe handed me a big colossal plastic one which was for boating, a torch light with a large string. "String�s good."
The climb down was hardly as hard as I would have expected. Working out on the rock wall must have helped a little bit. Elsie and Orli were waiting when I finally jumped onto the deck, both dressed in the darkest clothes we could come up with and Elsie and I had flatly refused ski masks (�ABSOLUTELY NO WAY!�). Orli was rubbing his head.
"What�s wrong?" I asked, pointedly, glad that my Canadian sense had me dressing in layers and that it was almost freezing cold out (okay, maybe it wasn�t). Orli rubbed his head again.
"Sky fell on me." He muttered, rubbing furiously, "Hurt."
"Sky?" I looked onto the dock, and sure enough, there was my Solitaire. "Wow. Your head broke it�s fall, Orli. So it still works!"
"Glad to know." Elsie growled, "Now let�s go find an ATM . . ."
Unfortunately, finding an ATM machine was not the easiest task in the heart of the Malay docks, even with an OnStar tracking device which Orli had built into his cellular phone. Growling a little at the stupid instructions and the very little screen, we looked around in the middle of containers, seedy warehouses and shipping yards. Elsie seemed awfully patient, and pointed us in many-a-direction until what my watch told me was fifteen minutes later (felt like at least fifteen hours later) was a glowing ATM machine.
"FINALLY!" Orli dropped in front of it and kissed it loudly, "American Technology!"
"Just get the dough and let�s get out of here!" I growled, "May take us another fifteen to get back to the boat."
"Of course not." Elsie snarled as Orli punched at the machine eagerly, "I left a little trail of white mints." And pointed. I stared. Sure enough, little white Scotch mints pointed our direction back to the ship. "Let�s just hope there is no one around in need of a mint."
"Um." Orli muttered, "You know how many twenties are in fifty million?" We quickly did the mental math. I gulped, "A lot. We need garbage sacks to haul it!"
"Do you have any idea how stupid this is?" I growled, burying my face in my hands, but fished out from my bag a large box of heavy-duty black GLAD (with the drawstrings) plastic bags, "I was not ever a scout, peoples."
"Right." Orli snarled and began wrapping the twenties in five hundred dollar stashes, "I�m emptying my account for an Aussie! I hope I didn�t write any checks lately! They�ll all get bounced! Heath owes me BIG." He paused, "Fifty million big."
"Oh my." I tied up what seemed to be the sixth sack, "Let�s hope the police doesn�t stop us."
"You know, this ATM is awfully suspicious." Elsie stared at it, "Fifty million dollars in twenties in here?"
"Oh you wussie." I growled, "Those are old ATMs of six years past. These new ones can draw money from anywhere. There is no money actually in them, so it is pointless to rob. Digital money, so to speak."
"Doesn�t make sense to me." She shrugged, "But alright."
Finally, by the twelfth bag (luckily the boxes of GLAD bags come in twenty four so that we could double layer), we were done. Three hours later, we were dragging the darn things to the red container specified with a certain shipping number, and sure enough, with the millions of red containers in the harbor, there was no certain numbering system. Typical.
"Eenie Meeine Miney Moe?" I pointed to the first line I could find, "Maybe that one?" Orli growled angrily, but after another hour, we did find the right container and shoved all the big sacks in front of it. "Now we wait until the sun rises."
"I�m not waiting around until those big tough guys come around." Orli growled, "I�m not sure about you."
"Then we are going to leave fifty million lying here?" Elsie snarled, but we quickly decided that even if someone was going to steal fifty million, they would just as soon off us all. "Okay, let�s go."
Even as we walked away, we knew that there was something wrong. A large white truck spotted with rust pulled up against the container and two men, dressed in white leapt onto the ground. One by one, they loaded the bags methodically into the back of their truck before speeding away. All twelve of them.
Orli turned to us, fire blazing in his eyes, "I HATE GARBAGE DAY!"
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"So? How did it go?" Zoe asked cheerfully as we scaled up the long rope of purple swimsuits, "Where�s Heath?"
"In the garbage bin." Orli muttered bitterly and when we were all aboard the ship, he called room service for lots of hot chocolate, "We loaded the stupid money into bags, took the bags to the appropriate container, and left. Of course, it was garbage day in the docks and the big garbage truck came and took all the bags, thinking that it was garbage."
"Well, why didn�t you STOP them?" Zoe asked, "You should have!"
"What were we supposed to say? Yes, we are trespassing, but you can�t steal our GARBAGE?" I growled, dropping the heavy backpack, lightened of the Glad garbage bags, "Poor Heath! Poor PM!"
"And there," Elsie looked out over Malaysia, "Is the rising sun. Alas, it is to be a bleak day."
"Wait a moment." I growled, "There isn�t garbage pick up in container yards!"
"Excuse me," Zoe left our little consensus to get the door which had started to tap, "I believe that is Room Service."
"No," Orli snapped sarcastically, "It�s HEATH." He rolled his eyes, "I�m hitting your shower."
"Why not the sink?" I asked, and Elsie gave me a dirty look, "Okay, what about a punching bag?"
"Hot chocolate." Zoe took the platter from the steward and brought it into the room, kicking the door closed with a foot behind her, "Five. Hmm. Orli must eat for two."
"That one is MINE!" With a roar, none other than our flip-flop stealing, fake-passport bearing Aussie friend dove into the room and snatched that final mug of hot chocolate, but as he was in a dive, managed to spill it all over the room, anyway. "Oops."
"What are you doing here?" Zoe screeched, "Aren�t you off in some terrorist�s jail?"
"Of course not." Heath grinned, pleased with himself, "That was a gag I just set up for Orli in revenge."
"WHAT?!" A very disgusted Orli screamed back, "WHAT?!"
"You heard me. Besides, what kind of terrorists would have an Australian newspaper?" Heath asked, and Elsie nodded, "I am glad to know that I am worth fifty million to you, Orlando."
"Excuse me?" Orli dashed out, dripping wet, "You�re not dead or stinking or floating in some pool of acid somewhere? What about my hard earned money? It was all garbage!"
"You did not recognize the �garbage collectors,� then." Heath seemed very pleased with himself and helped himself to Orli�s hot chocolate, "I must admit that the swimsuits was a good touch and the other collector was John Manley. He thought it was quite funny that I was worth fifty million. We returned the money to your account, Orli. Don�t worry."
"And the stupid captain was in on this too . . ." Seeing that he had a hunk of soap in his hands, Orli lobbed it at Heath and missed, "Arg."
"We sail onwards tomorrow." Heath finished the mug of hot chocolate, "And Orlando, I am very surprised DeGroot has not caught up to you yet."
"The flip-flop was a nice touch." Orli ran up to his once formerly full mug, "You drank it all!"
"Mmm. And it was good too." Heath grinned, "Oh, Orli, you are dripping water all over the place!"
"Mmm." They both looked at each other and burst out laughing, "Another fifty-one swimsuits!"
"Gosh." I growled and was about to leave them all to fend for themselves, when another tap came at the door, this one much softer, "Wow. You seem to be very wanted people." It was Jen, and she walked into the room, wringing her hands. "Is anything wrong?"
"Well, I don�t think there is . . ." She looked at Orli, Heath and then at the fifty-one purple swimsuit line draping from our window to the dock, and since the liner had pulled away silently, the line was blowing in the wind. "What is that?" Elsie opened her mouth to answer, but Jen quickly shook her head, "There is something wrong and I thought that I would come and ask you about it. Something odd. We are changing our course, though. And we are not sticking to the coastline, but heading out to open sea. I am not sure about the change. Unless Japan has decided to move, we are definitely heading elsewhere."
"Maybe there�s a storm we�re trying to avoid," I suggested, breaking the silence of the room (save for the water dripping from Orli), "Or maybe there�s a bonus port or something in the package." I doubted this, but it seemed to be the most plausible explanation. "I mean, what else could it be, terrorists taking over the ship?" This brought a small smile to Jen�s face and I sighed, relieved.
"Well, then, I�d best be off." But suddenly, she turned to stare, "Are there a shortage of towels?" Jen burst into gales of laughter and left us staring at each other and wondering what was so darn funny.