Chapter One – They Bought It!
“Nope. No way. This looks ten times riskier than you said it would,” huffed fourteen-year-old Finn as he shook his head with force, causing his honey waves to fall in front of his eyes and the monocle resting on his cheek to drop off his face.
His perpetually good-natured best friend, Francis, chuckled and pushed the hair away from Finn’s eyes. “Get your hair out of your face. It makes you look like a kid. Besides, we’ve done way riskier, and you know it.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“And put your monocle back on. That should help.”
Finn stretched and scrunched his face in an effort to get his monocle to stay put. “I feel ridiculous.”
“Well you look quite dapper … and much older, which is the point.”
“Well I’m not older. At least not old enough to be on this ship. We’re gonna get caught and spend our school break in the brig!”
“Relax, we won’t get caught. I told you what Pierina said. Carta 507: A man of whiskers is not as he seems. On a voyage he will embark for many days, to nowhere and beyond.”
“You want me to take the word of some Renaissance witch?!”
“Not a witch. She was a visionary, a sage. And you’re the man of whiskers going on a voyage!”
“Yeah, but not to nowhere!”
“It’s round trip. Same thing.”
“Eugh. I really don’t know how I let you talk me into this.”
“Talk you into it?! Who in their right mind would turn down an all-expenses-paid cruise from New Orleans to the Caribbean?!”
“A cruise that you failed to mention was for adults only—no kids!”
“We’re not kids!”
“I’m only fourteen!”
“Exactly! Not a kid. You have the word teen in your age. Plus, you’re tall. And between the fake moustache and monocle, you fit right in. As for me, well I may technically be sixteen, but with my beard and belly I easily pass for thirty. Besides, no one’s going to be looking at us. Have you seen all the poshers queuing up? It’s like a 1953 edition of Who’s Who wealthy so-and-so’s.”
“You’re right about that. I knew Wills was rich, but this is next-level rich.”
“Celebrity rich. Anywhere you look there’s another movie star! You’d think we were at the Oscars! … And quit tapping your foot. You’re driving me batty.”
“Can’t help it. I’m nervous.”
“No kidding. You’re sweating! It’s gonna make your moustache slip off. Do something to get your mind off things. Here, read the ship brochure.”
“Next, please!” called the crewman at the top of the ramp, waving for Frankie and Finn to approach. “Welcome aboard the Alcoa Corsair, gentlemen. I’m Chief Purser Truman, at your disposal. May I get your tickets and identification?”
Finn’s jaw dropped to his chest, and the monocle dropped to the ground. His knees began to quake. “Tickets and Identification?” he squawked as he stooped to collect the monocle and slid on a pair of sunglasses to hide his eyes.
Frankie cleared his throat. “Actually, this cruise is a gift.”
“How nice. Nonetheless, I’ll need to see your tickets and identification.”
Frankie leaned in and lowered his voice. “We were assured everything had been arranged and that since it’s an adults-only cruise, identification and traveling papers would be unnecessary. We were promised discretion.” Frankie leaned in further and cocked his head toward Finn. “Do you know who this is? If word were to get out that he was onboard, why this ship would all but capsize with all the fans and photographers. As I said, this cruise was a gift … from Commodore Williams, to be specific.”
Chief Purser Truman looked up from the clipboard in startlement. “Commodore Williams, you say?”
Frankie lifted his chin and looked down his nose imperiously at the man. “One and the same.”
“I see.” The purser took a step closer to Finn and studied his face. “My apologies, I didn’t realize it was you, sir. I’m a tremendous fan of your films.”
Frankie tapped a forefinger on the clipboard that held the passenger list. “We’ll be on the list under Williams.”
“That would be the V.I.P. list.” The purser flipped pages until he got to a single sheet with a dozen or so names with stars beside them, then slid his pen down the page. “Ah yes, Williams, cabin for two. Excellent. Here are your keys. You’re on the Royale Deck. A porter will take your bags to your room. Please accept my apologies.”
Frankie clapped a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Think nothing of it. And we can count on your discretion?”
“Absolutely.”
Finn gave the purser a slight nod of the head, then hurried down the deck. “We barely got out of that one alive,” he muttered to Frankie.
“The fun’s just beginning, my friend.”
Finn groaned and quickened his pace.
“Just one more thing, gentlemen,” called the purser, running to catch up with them.
“I knew it,” Finn whispered. “It’s the brig for us!”
The purser slowed down, speaking quietly. “I didn’t want to ask with all those people around, but could I get your autograph? It would be a real thrill for the missus.”
Finn pushed his sunglasses up his nose and turned toward Frankie, then the man, then Frankie again.
Frankie nudged him with his elbow. “Well go on. Don’t be a diva. Sign it!”
Finn wiggled his fingers and cracked his knuckles, then accepted the writing pen from the purser’s outstretched hand. “Uh, your wife’s name?”
“Gladys.”
Finn began writing, speaking aloud in an unnaturally deep voice as he did so. “To Gladys. Best wishes … and bon voyage.” He then scribbled across the page in an indecipherable grand flourish, punctuating the scribble with a final dot before handing the pen back.
The purser took the sheet of paper and beamed as he looked it over. “She’s gonna love this! Thanks again. You’re far more approachable than the other stars we’ve get on board.”
“Uh, looks like the check-in line’s getting longer,” Frankie observed.
The purser looked back at the line, uttered the word, “Criminy,” then sprinted back to his station.
“So what name did you sign?” Frankie asked Finn.
“I didn’t. I just let the pen go wild.”
Frankie let out a hearty belly laugh. “Come on, let’s get to our cabin.”
After striding down the deck a few paces, Finn stopped. “Oh no.”
“What is it now, worry wart? Lose your monocle?”
“No. It’s about that man thinking I’m a movie star. Who is it I’m supposed to be? I don’t know what name I’m supposed to go by.”
“Hmmmmm good question.” Frankie tapped his forefinger on his chin for a few seconds then snapped his fingers and pointed at Finn. “I know, we’ll act like you’re using a fake name while on the ship so as to be incognito. We’ll call you Finn.”
“But that’s my real name!”
“Just your first name. And no one else knows that. For your last name we should go with Grant … No, Williams … No, Hudson! Yes! That’s it! Finn Hudson. Sounds like a boffo movie star name! The kind people think they recognize, even though they don’t. This is gonna work great!”
“But how … On second thought, don’t tell me more. My head can’t take it.”
“Good! Then it’s settled.”
A ship’s horn sounded, and a public address system crackled into life. “All ashore that’s going ashore,” announced a staticky voice. “All ashore that’s going ashore.”
“Shake a leg, Mr. Hudson,” said Frankie. “Let’s see if there’s a welcome basket in our room. I’m getting peckish.”
“Do you think there might be a pineapple?”
“Probably. There usually is. International symbol of hospitality and all.”
Finn rubbed his hands and made a slurp sound.
“What is it with you and pineapples anyway?” Frankie asked.
“Can’t help it. They’re my favorite food. I call dibs on any and all pineapples.”
Frankie pushed Finn aside and took off running. “Not if I get there first.”
Finn raced to catch up to his friend. “Twenty bucks says we do something to get kicked off this ship before it docks.”
“Whooooaaaaa” Finn whispered as Frankie pushed open the door to their cabin, which was really more of a suite—a suite so lavish and large it looked like it would cause the entire ship to list.
Frankie strode into the center of the suite and spun in place, his arms stretched out wide. “A sight bigger than our digs at school, eh? Looks like there’s a master bedroom with a king-size bed and the other room has two twins … I’ll take the master.”
“Hey! Why do you get the master?”
“Cuz I’m bigger and need a bigger bed … Besides, I’m older.”
“You know, one day when we’re both old, the older card won’t matter anymore.”
Frankie’s eyes twinkled. “But the bigger one still will. You get a load of that fruit basket on the table? That pineapple looks ripe enough to eat.”
“Pineapple?”
Finn pulled a multifunction Swiss Army knife from his pocket as he hastened to the coffee table, carefully slid out the knife’s blade, and lopped off the top of the pineapple. “So why didn’t Wills take the cruise anyway? This sort of see-and-be-seen stuff seems right up his alley.”
“Slugs.”
“Did you say slugs?”
“Mmm hmmm. He’s become obsessed with ’em.”
“I don’t follow. And come to think of it, Wills is too young for this cruise too!”
“Wills’ parents were supposed to take the cruise, but something came up and the tickets were going to go to waste, so Wills offered to give the tickets as a gift to a pair of teachers … in thanks for all of their hard work.”
“Sounds awfully nice of Wills.”
Frankie snorted. “Too nice. He never had any intention of giving the tickets away. He planned to use them for himself and a buddy. Then he offered them to me.”
“And why exactly did he offer them to you?”
“Like I said—slugs! Yo ho, did you see? Each of our rooms has its own bathroom!”
“Back to the slugs, please?”
“Huh? Oh yeah. Wills went to some exotic Slugfest Rodeo event and got such a kick out of it, he dropped everything to pursue how to breed and train his own slugs. The class he signed up for was at the same time as this cruise, so he offered the tickets to me, knowing I’m always up for a rousing good time.”
“Can’t argue with you there. I saved you some pineapple, by the way.”
Frankie offered him a grateful smile. “I know what a sacrifice that is for you, mate. But you keep it. I like my pineapple with a tiny umbrella garnishing an exotic beverage. And I’m starved. Let’s go see if we can find one of those fancy buffets cruises are known for.”
“According to the itinerary, the first buffet is at breakfast tomorrow. Tonight is a sit-down dinner—coat and tie and all.”
“Then we’ll just have to explore the ship and see what we can find. A gift shop must have something we can nosh. This suite is great and all, but we’ll have plenty of time to be in here over the next few days. Let’s go exploring.”
Finn hurriedly cut another slice of pineapple, stuffed it in his mouth, and licked the juice off his fingers, one at a time. “Ready.”
* * *
They walked all over the ship, up stairs, down stairs, and up again, passing boutiques, people promenading, and walls lined with posters showing the activities and amenities awaiting passengers once they got to the Caribbean.
Frankie was out of breath, unaccustomed to physical exertion. “They really need an elevator on this boat! Or at least an escalator.”
“Oceanliners are designed with maximum space efficiency in mind, and escalators take up a lot of vertical space. Most escalators are not secured to a structure but use their own weight on isolation pads to stay in place. So the movement of the ship on rough seas could make escalators a nightmare. Can you imagine people tumbling off during a storm? Elevators work much better for people who need help, such as those with walkers and wheelchairs.”
Frankie stopped and looked at Finn askance. “My comment was rhetorical … Your moustache is starting to slide off, by the way.”
Finn clapped a hand over his mouth to cover his faux facial hair.
Two men nodded and smiled as they walked by.
“Word is, he’s a VIP.” one of them whispered to his friend. “Any idea who?
“Finn Hudson,” Frankie called after them.
“What are you doing?!” Finn admonished.
“Just having some fun.”
The two men rounded the corner, and called out to someone, “Did you know Finn Hudson’s on this ship? We just saw him!”
Suddenly, the wooden deck reverberated with the sound of thundering feet.
“I think there’s a herd of buffalo stampeding the ship!” Finn exclaimed.
When a whistle blew, they looked at each other in surprise.
“You there! Stop right where you are!” a voice called out.
“They went that way!” someone replied.
“We’ve been found out!” Frankie rasped. “Make a run for it!”