The Last Manly Man (25 page)

The speedboat left, heading out toward another fishing boat, a few hundred yards or so back of our boat. Number twenty came into the cabin and said, “We're going to head out a little farther so we're less conspicuous.”

Number twenty sat down and began marking up a copy of the hand-drawn map with notations, while another member of his crew looked on. He called Jason over.

“We see from this map that the electricity connects here and here. The alarm system has to be disabled here. The map says the bonobos are held here, unless they've been moved. There are guards here and here. The entrance is double-bolted and requires a pass code. That might be these numbers down here. Just in case, we'll have to bring explosives to blow our way in. In addition to firearms, we'll need tranquilizer guns and nonlethal doses of knockout drugs.”

He pulled out an almanac.

“The full moon is waning, but we still have the problem of too much moonlight. What is the weather forecast?”

“Clear tonight, partially cloudy by morning, with possible rain showers, progressively cloudy until the weekend.”

“Cloudy is good. Rain is good,” said number twenty. “We'll have to work fast to catch this cloudy weather.”

One of the “tourists” came inside. “Another helicopter patrol above the island,” he said. “The chopper goes out on the hour, the speedboat on the half hour.”

“All right. Let's head back to land. The crew and I will make a few quick passes of the island tonight to check out the nighttime security. We'll rendezvous tomorrow morning, eight
A.M.
, at the Bog to discuss our options. That'll give Jason and me time to consult with some other specialists. We're going to need backup on this job.”

“I definitely want to be at the liberation, with my own camera,” I said to Jason as we sailed back.

“I told you that you could have the story when the bonobos were liberated. I don't break my promises,” he said. “I'm meeting with Karen Keyes at the women's conference later. Do you want to join us?”

“Yes.”

“Eight
P.M.
, by the Diogenes booth. There's a rock band performing, so the room will be dim, but try to disguise yourself anyway,” he said.

“Eight
P.M.
,” I repeated. That was good. The conference was only a couple of blocks from the Metro Grand Hotel, which meant I could stop by and see Gus, try to smooth things out with him.

I didn't have much time for smoothing, as it turned out. It was after 7:00 by the time Blue dropped me off at my place. I just had time to change quickly, put my hair up under a scarf, and run back down to Blue.

“Where to?” Blue asked.

“The Metro Grand Hotel,” I said. That's where Gus was now staying. Gus only stayed at the Plaza when he wanted to play the newlyweds-from-the-Midwest game. “Where are you going?”

“I have a bunch of deliveries backed up for this evening,” Blue said. “But I'll be on beeper if you need me.”

Gus was in the bar of the Metro Grand, unshaven, drinking whiskey.

“I'm so glad you came,” Gus said when he saw me. “Can we talk?”

“I don't have much time. I have to run to the women's conference,” I said. “I just stopped by to see how you were.…”

“Why do you have to go? Are you giving a speech or something?” he asked, clearly annoyed.

“No, I have to meet some people for work.…”

“I'm going with you then.”

“No, don't do that.”

“Why not? What's going on? Look, you keep running off, I can't get a straight answer out of you.… It's like you can't wait to get away from me. You owe me some answers, Robin,” he said.

It stung when he used my real name.

“It's not you…” I said, regretting the words as soon as they came out. I sounded like I was getting ready to dump him.

“It is me! I can't get a part, I can't keep a woman around.… What is my problem?”

“It's not you. I really like you. I want to see you. I just … have to go,” I said, and walked out of the bar.

“I'm going with you,” he said, following me out.

“Go away,” I said. Man, oh man, I hated to do that, to hurt him.

“Not until you tell me what's going on,” he said, sticking with me.

Quickly, I speeded up, walking well ahead of him, but he continued to follow, seething. He followed me right into the women's conference.

The convention floor was packed with people there to watch a rock band called the She-Wolves. The lights were dimmed except around the peripheries of the hall, where booths representing different women's groups and causes were set up. In the low light, I was able to lose Gus.

I couldn't see Jason or Keyes. When my eyes adjusted to the dimness, I saw that the audience was only about half women. The rest were men, of all ages, but primarily young men of various races, some in She-Wolves T-shirts.

On the stage, four women in tight white T-shirts and jeans sang sexually aggressive songs about men, songs originally done by men about women. At the moment, they were singing their slightly rewritten cover of “Little Red Riding Hood,” a Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs song. In this throaty, hard rock version, they are the she-wolves and a young man is Red Riding Hood.

“Where's Jason?” someone behind me asked.

It was Karen Keyes.

“I thought he was with you.”

“I haven't seen him. Oh, by the way, someone else from ANN called me today. Reb Ryan from …”

“Investigative Reports,” I said. “What did he want to know?”

“If I knew anything about some missing bonobo chimps. I feigned ignorance, of course.…”

“Damn. That means they are getting closer to the real story,” I said. “Shit.”

“I told Jason I didn't have much time,” Keyes said. “I have a symposium at nine I haven't finished preparing for. Can you have him contact me after the symposium?”

“Yeah, if I find him,” I said.

After she left, I wandered the conference floor, moving through the darkened hall under corporate banners for soft drinks, menstrual analgesics, clothing lines, automakers, and so on, past the birth control booths, the displays exhorting women to join one women's group or another, the causes—Amnesty International, Globofeminism, Universal Health Care, etc. The Mrs. Degree girls, followers of Suzy Hibben, were handing out brochures next to hosiery company reps handing out free pantyhose. At a booth to promote women's boxing, you could put on padded gloves and hammer a punching ball.

Between the Lesbian Parents booth and a cosmetic company display, my beeper went off.

“Trouble,” said the message. “I am coming to get you. Blue.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“Something has gone wrong?” I said, jumping into Blue's car.

“Not exactly,” Blue said.

Before he could explain, the back door opened.

Gus jumped in.

“Gus, what are you doing here? Go home! For God's sake!” I said.

“So this is who you blew me off for,” Gus said.

“No, Gus …”

“I'm not leaving until I get an explanation,” Gus said. “I'm tired of these wild stories. I want the truth.”

“Okay, the truth,” I said. “This is my lover. I didn't want to tell you. You're a nice guy, Gus, and it was fun, but my heart belongs to Blue here.”

“I thought you were different,” Gus said, and he sounded deeply hurt. “It felt special to me.…”

“No, I'm like all the rest. I'm a bitch and I was just using you. Now go home, get on with your life,” I said.

“I'm going,” Gus said.

As soon as he was out of the car, Blue squealed away.

“Want to tell me what that was about?” he asked.

“I can't very well tell him the truth. I mean, I did tell him the truth, and he didn't believe it. He'd rather believe I'm ditching him for another man.”

“You broke his heart,” Blue said. “He had tears in his eyes.”

“Did I? Boy, I hated to do that to him. But what choice did I have? I really liked him too. He's really sweet and …”

“Maybe you can make it up to him later,” Blue said.

“I hope I get the chance. I really do like him. He's a lot of fun and he's really sweet. Shit. So what's up?”

“Our boy Dewey has spoken some more. Apparently, arrangements had been made with yet another cell to create a diversion on one side of Tweak Island to facilitate the liberation on the other side. It is impossible to reach the diversion squad now. The liberation would have to take place Wednesday night. That means we are going to have to work tonight to be ready to go out tomorrow. We're going to the hospice now. Jason's there. Number twenty and some of his crew are meeting us over there.”

“Okay. What will I need …”

“Damn,” Blue said.

“What?”

“I was supposed to call my ex-wife. Do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Look in that box of CDs. There's a Robert Mitchum calypso CD.”

“Robert Mitchum doing calypso?”

“It sounds strange, but he was pretty good.”

“Found it.”

“Good,” he said, dialing his cell phone with one hand. “Plug it in, forward to the last track, I think it is number fourteen, “My Baby's Loving Arms.” Hit the pause button. When I nod my head, hit the play button.”

“Okay.”

“Honey?” Blue said into the phone. “I'm sorry I forgot to call you. Business. But I'll see you this weekend and I'll be thinking of you.”

He nodded at me and I hit the play button. Blue held the phone to a speaker. After the song was over, he put the phone back to his ear and said, “Love ya, baby. Good night.”

“Gotta keep that woman happy,” he said to me after hanging up.

“How come you date your ex-wife?” I asked.

“Aw, hell, I'd remarry her, but she wants it this way. Peculiar woman. She thinks it's the only way to keep me faithful. If I step out on her, she's free to step out on me. Know what I'm sayin', Robin?”

“It's unconventional, but I can see the logic to that.”

“She's a mean woman that one, when she has reason to be. But I love her. Crazy, huh?”

“I've heard of crazier things,” I said. “A friend of a friend is a bisexual woman who only dates married couples she meets through personal ads in the back of upscale magazines.”

“Bet that gets messy when it doesn't work out. But then, it's usually messy when it doesn't work out.”

“How long have you been divorced?”

“Four years. You been married?”

“Yeah, for five years. He's remarried now, has a kid and another on the way. You got kids?”

“A married daughter in California and two grandkids. They all think we should get married again. They're on my side. Think you'll get married again?”

“I dunno, Blue. My life is too crazy and I'm too busy,” I said, as Blue turned into the hospice parking garage. “I'd like to think so though, because I have this terrible vision that I'm going to end up alone except for the male nurse I pay to change my diapers and listen to my life story.”

As if on cue, Horton the male nurse was waiting there for us in the garage.

“They're waiting for you upstairs,” Horton said.

Jason, a couple of the boat crew members, and some people I hadn't seen before were sitting on the floor at the foot of Dewey's bed. Dewey was unconscious. Number twenty was writing on a blackboard.

“Hi,” Jason said.

“Hi,” I said. “Has Dewey said anything new?”

“Nothing you have to worry about right now,” number twenty said to me. “Listen up. The rest of the crew is scoping out the island right now. We're going to have to go in tomorrow night. That doesn't give us much time.”

He drew an arrow to the far side of Tweak Island.

“The diversion squad will be operating here. According to Dewey, they are going to light an old boat on fire in the water here at midnight. At that time, saboteurs must be in place to cut off power and disable the alarm system. Those carrying out the actual liberation of the bonobos will land here.”

He drew another arrow to the north side of the island.

“We'll cut through here, and enter through this door.” He turned to me. “I understand you'll be bringing a camera.”

“An undercover camera, concealed in a purse,” I said.

“You've never gone on an operation like this before, have you?”

“I've gone undercover lots of times. I've never gone on an animal liberation.”

“I'll want you to stay close to Jason, pulling up the rear. You'll do everything he says. Your job is to stay out of the way and just film. We don't have much time to pull this off, so we'll need to be extra careful. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Number twenty handed me a thin, pulpy, dog-eared booklet, entitled simply
Liberating Lab Animals
.

“Read this, it'll bring you up to speed on the basics. I've highlighted the things you need to know in yellow. Blue, I want you to stay behind on the mainland to look after transportation. We'll need a school bus.”

Horton the male nurse came in with ginseng sodas and vegetarian sandwiches. We ate while we went over the maps and the drawings and all the plans. Maybe it was because I was really hungry, but I thought those sandwiches were really tasty.

After number twenty was finished with Blue and me, he said, “Go ahead and take Miss Hudson home. Read over that booklet, Miss Hudson. Assemble all the equipment you need, and get a few hours sleep. We meet at the boat landing in north Manhattan at six
A.M.
sharp. Synchronize your watches.”

We did so.

“Tomorrow we prepare the boat and firm up everything. Tomorrow night, we free the bonobo chimps.”

“Come on, darlin',” Blue said to me. “I'll take you home.”