Chapter 25

It seemed to take forever, but a little after eight, we left the dock. Duke was his own, weird self.

“Up top, conning us, is Captain Ron Howell. Down below, womanning the engines, Engineer Denver Howell, our captain’s wife. In addition, Misses Jane and Elaine Howell, the captain’s daughters, will act as deck hands; mostly, they’ll help people who want to fish. Please, you are guests; they are crew. Hands off my crew. Stick to each other.”

Dad was blushing; Mom was looking down. CC was between Sean and Diane; Ginny and Toni were behind me, with their father. Paula and Kristie were holding hands.

“I make no bones about it. I asked Zim here today because of the designs I have on his ... brains.” There was a pause; my turn to blush. “I’m going to teach the young man all about ... bridge.” I was reduced to laughter. “I play, so does Paula and Kristie.”

“I play a bit, too,” Ian interjected. “If you’d like someone to spell you.”

“Cool. Actually, Paula is a good bridge player; Kristie is a damn, damn good volleyball player.” Everyone laughed at that.

“Fish, enjoy. There is food and drink. Have a good time. I’ve told Captain Howell to plan on docking around six this evening.” Duke waved at the ocean. “Smooth as silk today; no weather expected.” He laughed, “It’s been a week of warm, sunny, dry weather. That could change at any second. Let me or the crew know if you need anything.”

A bit later, four of us were in the main cabin ready to play bridge. The Duke insisted that I be his partner, so he could ‘explain’ things to me. Ian and Paula were partnered up; everyone else was listening to the captain’s two daughters explain the fine points of fishing for big ones.

For an hour, we played with cards up. I concentrated on learning the basics of the rules. I’d thought it would be no big deal, but in fact, it was easily a thousand times more difficult than poker ... leaving aside bluffing, because you could do that in bridge too.

Two hours later, we broke for a while, had some lunch, and other important hygiene needs. Including a coke.

It was, I realized later, something Duke understood, and I didn’t. Fishing and I ... just didn’t do much for me. On the other hand, Mom and Dad were addicts. Sean, Diane, and CC, not much better. Kristie spent time out on deck in the morning, but after lunch, she came and sat by Duke.

Ginny and Toni were fascinated by fishing; then, Toni caught a really large marlin. It took her the better part of an hour to land the fish; we all had to adjourn to see her picture taken with the fish. Then, I was asked to be in the frame with Ian and his daughters. The twins spent the rest of the afternoon hoping for a repeat.

In the afternoon, we played duplicate bridge instead of rubber bridge. The difference was breathtaking; the whole tenor of the game changed. Finally, about three thirty, Duke waved his hands. “Zim, too bad you don’t play bridge like you play volleyball.”

Ian shook his head. “Zim has no secret weapon in bridge, Duke; he’s like most of us. I think in a few years, he’ll be a good duplicate player. He has the right mindset; he just doesn’t have the experience.”

“Well, I really wanted to go up to Miami and apply some whup-ass on those little old ladies,” Duke sounded disappointed.

Ian smiled. “I’ve got some time Tuesday; basically, everything after lunch is open. Maybe I could sub for Zim.”

Duke’s eyes bulged; there had been no doubt, none at all. Paula and Ian had been tough to beat; Duke had been Ian’s match. Paula wasn’t as good as Ian, but I’d pulled Duke way down.

Duke eyed Ian. “I’d like that, I would.” Ian smiled, and Duke smiled back.

Do not, I thought, go there. No wonder Gin and Tonic had had difficulty seducing their father. Or maybe not.

“So, Zim, who’s coming tomorrow evening for poker?” Duke asked.

“You and me, Tasha, and Ian. I asked Evan and Linda, who both said yes. Jim said maybe. Kristie and Paula have something else planned.”

“Six...” Duke mused. “Four guys and two girls. Maybe I can find another lady to join us. How about Jill and Jack?”

“I couldn’t find them to ask,” I told him.

“Jill’s a little bit of a snob, now and again. She doesn’t associate that much with the beach rats.” Duke sniffed and laughed, “She doesn’t like to come without Jack.”

Right about then, it was CC’s turn to get lucky, and most everyone went out to watch, leaving Ian and me alone in the cabin.

“Zim, what are your plans for the evening?” Ian asked.

“Nothing yet,” I told him.

“Do you know what a Production Assistant is?” he asked me.

I shook my head.

He laughed. “A fancy title, signifying someone a producer has hired to read scripts for him or her these days. In one sense, it’s a simple job. Read the script, if it’s any good, write a simple analysis, then give it to the assistant’s boss.” He grinned. “We call those production executives. Another pointless, inflated title.”

“And this is what?” I asked, curious.

“What I do. At least a little. As a producer, I employ assistants and executives to read movie scripts for me.” He glanced at me, smiled. “You know how many scripts, Zim?”