This is episode ten in the sixth novel of The Trace Troy Adventure Series. It is titled The Double-Cross in Paradise. Here are the links to The Double-Cross InmParadise: paperback, Kindle.
Exposure
Patterson, Margot, Erin, and Zoey squeezed together on the bench behind the mess table.
Tom and Paul staggered into the mess and salon area.
“We’re in for a little rough going for the next few hours,” Tom said. “It’s not as bad as it feels.”
“It’s probably worse,” Patterson said.
“This boat is made for seas and weather like this,” Tom said.
“So was the Titanic,” Zoey said.
“We’re not ramming icebergs,” Paul said.
Makani’s face appeared at the opening between the galley and the mess. “This nothing. Trace, good captain. I been with him longer than anybody. He know how to handle boat in bad weather.”
They calmed, yet their eyes widened with each violent thrust or roll of the boat.
Makani passed out Dramamine as a precaution. Paul and Tom secretly took a pill.
Makani prepared breakfast. He glided around the galley as if performing a ballet. He seemed to sense each violent thrust of The Tramp Islander. His nonchalant preparation likely had more to do with his desire to calm the passengers than anything else.
The passengers nibbled on toast and sipped coffee or tea.
“How high are the waves?” Patterson asked after a particularly noticeable thrust.
“Fifteen feet,” Tom said.
“Captain Troy has steered ships in thirty and forty-foot waves,” Paul said calmly.
Erin stood at his place and twisted around to look out the porthole. “My god, all I see is water.”
“Yeah,” Patterson said sarcastically, “we’re in the middle of the ocean.”
“No, it’s like we’re down in the water,” Erin settled fearfully into his seat as the boat rose.
“We have only dipped into a swell,” Paul said matter-of-factly. “It happens all the time. It’s like driving in hill country. Swells are like the contour of the land, except they move, and the ship moves with them, just like a car following the contour of the road.”
“That no make sense to me,” Makani said from the galley.
“You’ll have to visit the States sometime,” Tom said.
“You mean like Eastern Washington?” Margot said. “You drive along and there is nothing but green hills all around you, and a minute later you’re on top of a hill and you see nothing but the tops of the other hills.”
“Exactly,” Paul said. “There, it is called the Palouse, right?”
“Yes,” Margot said. “Have you been there?”
“Once,” Paul said.
“That’s where I go to college,” Margot said. “Where did you go to college?”
“Harvard,” Paul answered, and quickly attempted to dash from the mess.
It spurted from his mouth before thinking. He knew a flurry of questions and maybe doubt might follow.
“Harvard!” Patterson blurted. “And you’re a deckhand. I didn’t know that was offered at Harvard. I should check into that.”
“Don’t be too smart,” Makani said from the opening between the galley and mess. “He have what called a PhD. Don’t know what you mean.”
“Phenomenally Dumb,” Patterson said sarcastically. “What are you phenomenally dumb in?”
“Come-backs to Pampered Hebetude Dullards,” Paul said.
“Don’t even try,” Tom said to Patterson. “He’s way over your head.”
Patterson recoiled and glanced at his fellow passengers.
“I don’t have any idea what he called you,” Zoey squirmed.
“Seriously,” Margot said to Paul and lifted her head, “what in?”
“Mathematics,” Paul said.
“What are you doing here?” Erin asked.
“Fair question,” Paul said and grabbed an overhead railing to brace himself. “But I won’t go into a long explanation. My father thought it would be good for me to work for Captain Troy.”
“And what does Daddy do?” Patterson smirked.
“My dad is what you might call a mob boss,” Paul said. “His name is Waldo Franks. Look him up. He’s in prison now. Captain Troy helped put him there. My dad told me, any man smart enough to put him away is smart enough to teach you life lessons not taught in college. So here I am.” Paul smiled politely. “What about you, Patterson?”
“What about me?” Patterson grinned while his eyes rolled as if expecting the sea to crash in on him.
“You see,” Paul said, “you don’t know where you’ve been, where you’re at, or what’s next.” Paul paused to allow that to register. “And to be fair, I’m just starting to figure those things out, myself. This storm, this sea, this moment should give you pause to think.” Paul smiled politely. “I was on my way to take a leak, so you’ll have to excuse me.”
“We should have flown,” Zoey said.
“You folks aren’t married, are you?” Tom asked.
They all said no.
“This gives each of you a chance to see how the other reacts under pressure,” Tom said. “It’s a euphemism, but marriage has some rough seas. Frankly, you all will handle tough times like you handle this situation.”
“And where did you earn your master's?” Patterson smirked and jerked with the turbulence.
“I never completed a degree,” Tom said. “I’m what you might call an autodidact,”
“You can write with both hands?” Margot asked.
“Yeah,” Tom said.
“You’ll have to show us sometime,” Patterson said.
Tom grinned and stared pathetically at them. “Does anyone wish to ask any questions about autodidacts?”
“Sure,” Patterson said. “What is your dominant hand?”
“That depends,” Ton said.
“On what?” Erin asked.
“The equator,” Tom said.
“What’s that got to do with it?” Zoey asked.
“If I’m facing east and in the northern hemisphere, my left hand is more dominant,” Tom said. “If I’m south of the equator, my right hand is most dominant.”
“What if you turn around?” Patterson said.
“It all changes,” Tom said.
Tom grinned. “And you folks are all naivety—easily fooled. Autodidactic means self-educated.”
“So we’re gullible?” Patterson questioned.
“Indeed,” Tom continued. “It stems from a variety of reasons, but I suspect the cases of you folks it come from a lack of exposure to the real world. Also, I’d strongly suggest there are other underlying reasons, such as a lack of critical thinking and, most disturbing, low self-esteem.”
“What?” Patterson blurted.
“It’s treatable,” Tom assured.
“What makes you such an expert?” Erin tried to move forward in his seat but was pushed back by an unexpected thrust from the sea.
Tom grinned confidently. “You four are more like Paul and me than you think.”
“What about Captain Troy, Sage, and Makani?” Patterson said.
Paul staggered from the head and into the mess. “We’re here to learn from them—and not the sea.”
“And what valuable lessons have been passed on?” Patterson swayed sarcastically.
“Well,” Paul’s lips tightened as if thinking deeply, “in rough seas, no matter what you’re doing in the head, it’s best to do it sitting.”
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