Permit to Redecorate
Top deck of the Galapagos catamaran Alya, which I had the pleasure of cruising aboard thanks to AdventureSmith Explorations.
This work of fiction earned 3rd place in Round 1 of the 2021 NYC Midnight Short Story Challenge. I had 7 days to write a 2,500-word story, with the surprise assigned topics of suspense, a decorator, and amenities. Top 5 stories selected by a panel of judges moved on to Round 2.
Permit to Redecorate
by Meghan Robins
When Manuel Alvero converted his twelve-passenger catamaran into a research vessel, he became desperate to keep the Adrianna afloat. Vaquitas, the world’s rarest marine mammals, were on the brink of extinction. As was Manuel, if he didn’t find a backer. Regretfully, the only philanthropist interested was Antonio Soto, the wealthiest businessman in Baja.
Lizzy White was a law school dropout with a keen eye for color squares. Her job was to diversify Mr. Soto’s investments—quietly, profitably, stylishly. Her eye for detail was impeccable. Mr. Soto’s taste was eccentric. When they caught wind of a fledgling nonprofit aboard an outdated catamaran, they agreed it checked all the boxes. Mr. Soto’s fascination for smart investments was rivaled only by his love for endangered species. Lizzy explained this to Manuel as they toured their newly co-owned catamaran. “We’ll add another bar here. Teak decking everywhere. Mr. Soto is awfully fond of royal hues, so this will get updated. I’ve ordered a marble Jacuzzi for the top deck, imported from Italy. These rooms will be combined into the owner’s suite. We must secure all the proper amenities for Mr. Soto’s ship.”
“Our ship,” Manuel corrected, following her up the spiral staircase.
“Yes, of course, your ship.” Lizzy leaned over the banister, her blond hair swirling in the early summer breeze. “Now these vaquitas, how do we get one?”
“Excuse me?” Manuel said. “They are endangered animals, not pets. And they do not survive in captivity.”
Lizzy turned sharply on her heel. “Don’t be ridiculous, Mr. Alvero. Who would keep a live whale aboard a ship? We mean to preserve one. Hang it here, right above the Jacuzzi. An homage to Mr. Soto and the good work he is doing.”
“Good work?” Manuel felt sick.
Lizzy’s green eyes narrowed. “I conveyed your enthusiasm, and Mr. Soto feels inspired. It is the only reason he chose to invest in your dilapidated boat. My job is to ensure he has all the amenities he deserves. He deserves a gorgeous space, doesn’t he? A ship unlike any other?”
Manuel gripped the railing. “This is not possible,” he said.
Two chauffeurs, as they had been introduced, stepped forward. Lizzy, four inches taller, leaned over Manuel. “This is not a negotiation, Mr. Alvero. We did not choose your vessel because of its quality. We chose it because of your access. You are the only one permitted to enter the cove during birthing season. Mr. Soto has requested a baby vaquita to be mounted, in honor of him, right here.” She waved her arms at the alcove behind them. “He wants to be one with the sea. Isn’t that what your website promises? Help Mr. Soto get his trophy and he will invest millions in saving the whales you care so much about.”
“They’re porpoises.”
“What?” Lizzy flipped a business card between them, her manicured fingernails bright as healthy coral.
“Get off my boat,” Manuel said through gritted teeth.
Lizzy smiled, tucking the card into his shirt pocket. “This is not your boat, Mr. Alvero.” From her shoulder bag, she produced fabric swatches, layering them across the bench and cocking her head. She handed the swatches to the thick-necked chauffeur. “We have one week until the whales begin birthing. We’ll get one then.”
Manuel went directly to the police, closing the captain’s door behind him.
“Distressing indeed,” Captain Romero said. “We’ll send patrol boats, but, as Ms. White says, you are the only vessel with a permit to be in those waters at that time.”
“You need to arrest them.”
“For what, intent? We will patrol the waters, but Manny, I cannot just arrest this woman, an American no less.”
“So, you’ve met her?”
The captain leaned back in his chair. “She came to me, asking for a permit. I told her only one vessel was issued such a permit. I’m sorry, Manny. I didn’t know it would come to this.”
Manuel nodded and stood to leave. The captain glanced at someone behind him, and before Manuel knew it, he was cuffed by two policemen and shoved into a cell. Captain Romero leaned against the bars, picked his fingernails. “I am sorry, Manny. But you’re too reckless, angry. We both know you’d try to stop them.”
“Why aren’t you?” Manuel was livid. “It’s your job to stop them!”
Captain Romero rubbed the back of his neck, taking his time. “Exactly. It’s my job. Not yours. So just sit tight and don’t worry. I’ll call your wife and tell her you’re safe.” As the guard opened the door, the captain paused. “I’m doing this for Elena, you know.”
“You bastard!” Manuel shook the cell bars, but nobody was listening.
***
Lizzy stood at the window overlooking the Sea of Cortez.
“So?” Mr. Soto said from the doorway.
Lizzy startled and splashed her drink. She laughed and wiped gin down her pantleg. “We have a ship,” she said.
“Well done, Lizzy.” Antonio Soto took her hand. “I’ve been thinking, why settle for merely a stuffed fish. I want to be one with the whales, those powerful, forceful beasts. I want to feel like we’re swimming together.”
“But, my love, vaquitas do poorly in captivity. It is known.”
Mr. Soto squeezed Lizzy’s hand until it hurt. “Make it happen.”
***
For two days Manuel rattled his cage bars. Only the young guard who brought his meals acknowledged his conspiracy theories about illegal poaching. On the third day when he shook the cell door, it creaked open. Timidly, he stepped out. It was before dawn and the sheriff’s office was empty. The young guard was in the other room, pouring himself coffee. Through the glass partition, he watched Manuel gently open one disarmed security door after another. Manuel paused, searching for an explanation. But the young guard flicked his chin as if to say, hurry. Manuel nodded and was gone.
At home, he skirted the edge of their yard to avoid Elena in the kitchen. He quietly unlocked the shed and reached behind shovels and rusting buckets for an old duffel, saved from a life lived long ago. When he reached the Adrianna, much had changed. Crates and old furnishings were piled on the dock. Lizzy’s slender silhouette was on the top deck, cursing. “If that Jacuzzi doesn’t arrive in the next twenty-four hours, I’m going to murder someone!”
As the sunrise crossed calm blue waters, Manuel waited for the chauffeur-guard to take a piss before hurrying aboard and down to the hull. Quickly, he stashed his duffle in a hatch and began dismantling tracking devices, subtly rearranging wires.
“What are you doing?” Another guard’s shoulders were pinched in the narrow stairwell.
“Daily maintenance,” Manuel said. “These systems need checking.” The guard smirked and forced him above deck.
Lizzy was fuming. “Do you think I’m stupid, Mr. Alvero? Do you think I would purchase a boat without knowing how to operate one? I need your vessel, your permit. I do not need you.” She looked at the guard, who quickly secured him to the bench. “I knew you would meddle. I just wish for once I didn’t have to deal with it.”
All morning Manuel struggled against his zip ties. Midday, Lizzy brought him water, tipping the bottle to his lips. Together, they sat under the canopy, watching men crane in and install Mr. Soto’s prize amenity: a pink, marble, Italian Jacuzzi. Large enough to fit ten guests, it filled the entire deck. It was horrendous.
One of the guards rattled up the stairs, dropping Manuel’s duffle on the bench. “Look what we found.”
Lizzy unzipped the faded bag, revealing Manuel’s old tranquilizer gun. She stood up, ran her fingers along the tub’s marble edge, lingering on the marble ashtray, an added gift from the supplier. “We asked about you,” Lizzy said. “Poacher turned environmentalist. It’s a nice story, but unrealistic. People don’t change, Mr. Alvero. It’s the world we live in. Animals go extinct. People die. You get it.”
“How old are you?” Manuel said, searching for a diversion, a weakness.
“Twenty-six.”
“You’re too young to be this depressing.”
Lizzy sat down. “Tell you what. It can be your choice: you can either choose which baby vaquita we take. The weakest, ugliest, by your standards. Or we can tie weights to you now and let the newborns feed on you for their first meal.”
“That’s not—” Manuel started. “You’ll never get away with this. There are dozens of conservationists. People are watching.”
Lizzy stood with a tired smile. “I don’t care.” She hit him across the face with the ashtray.
When Manuel awoke, stars filled the sky and he could hear the loud puffing sounds of vaquitas. The Adrianna was no longer at the dock but in the cove. The Jacuzzi was cleaned, filled, bubbling. How long had he been out? His head ached. Blood crusted down his cheek. He scanned the empty deck, then wriggled toward his duffle, reaching for the switchblade he kept in the side zipper. After painfully cutting himself free, he lifted the bench seat, still filled with old life vests, ropes, a first aid kit. Along with flairs and a two-way radio. He flipped to the emergency channel and called for mayday. After minutes of white noise, someone said, “Mayday copy, what’s your position.”
“This is Captain Alvero of the Adrianna. I’ve been kidnapped. Location is Florien Cove. Over.”
“Manny, is that you?”
Shit. “Yes, Captain. I’m in the cove. They plan to poach vaquitas. I fear they may do it tonight.”
“Manny, we are aware of your position. Our records show you are no longer the captain of the Adrianna. If you are aboard illegally, we’ll have to arrest you, again. Over.”
“Romero, there are poachers here, now. There’s more than enough proof. Why aren’t you doing your job!”
“I am Manny, calm down.” Headlights appeared across the water, flashing twice aboard the police patrol boat. “In fact, we’re running security. I’m sorry, Manny. That American is very persuasive. And I have my family to think of. As do you. One whale to save both our families? That’s a price I’m willing to pay.”
“They’re porpoises!” Manuel yelled, launching the radio into the ocean.
Two guards below were on their radios in an instant. Heavy footsteps rattled the staircase. Just as the thick-necked chauffeur appeared, Manuel grabbed his duffle and jumped over the side, skimming down the slanted wall to a balcony. The balcony led into what was once two quaint rooms. Through a sliding glass door, he saw they’d been converted into one luxurious owner’s suite, filled with a ridiculous round bed. Atop of which lay Mr. Soto and Lizzy White, startled by the thump of his landing. The bright interior kept Manuel in shadows and he rushed to load his only weapon. Aiming his tranquilizer carefully (it always pulled left), he cracked open the slider and shot. In the split-second Mr. Soto had reached for his gun, the dart was already stuck in his bare abdomen. He fell backwards, pinning Lizzy to the bed. She screamed. Manuel leapt to the adjacent balcony. He needed to pull the anchor. If he could get the catamaran out of the cove, their window would be missed. He hoped Captain Romero would see the boat leaving and assume the deed was done. When Manuel reached the stern, his stomach dropped. In the open space where they once pushed kayaks and survey equipment into turquoise waters, lay a giant gill net. Not since his first sea journey did he feel that queasy. He went to work cutting it into pieces, desperate to dismantle the greatest killer of vaquitas. But the net was too strong, too well made. He didn’t hear Lizzy’s bare feet approach from behind. He did hear the click of a gun.
“Stand up,” she said, two guards on either side. “Why are you making this so difficult.”
Manuel stood. He could see too much of her through her satin gown. “You don’t have to do this,” Manuel said, looking away.
“You don’t get it, Mr. Alvero.” Lizzy stepped forward. “Our desires need no explanation. All we need is to feel good. And things, Mr. Alvero, décor, amenities, these things make us feel good. I need to feel good.”
Manuel looked into her green eyes. “It makes me sad, Ms. White, to think you could be so much more than a decorator.”
Lizzy let out a cackle. “Trust me. I am so much more!” She spun swiftly with a high kick, knocking Manuel in the jaw. He fell sideways and scurried to the side rail. Lizzy stood ready, waiting for his approach, a maniacal grin on her moonlit face. Manuel doubled over, holding his bleeding mouth. He leaned onto the lever that engaged the pulley for the net. Lizzy swung upwards, caught like a fish. The two guards rushed forward, unable to shoot with Lizzy hanging between them. Manuel snuck around, landing a powerful right hook and knocking one guard overboard. The other scampered this way and that, dancing around the net.
“Kill him!” Lizzy screeched.
But the guard was too slow. Manuel grabbed the net and swung like Tarzan, kicking the guard in the chest and landing him in the water as well. Lizzy was frantically trying to aim her gun, but it was pinched too close to her chest. Manuel reached the lever and hoisted her to the top deck. His primitive brain had taken over. Evil deserved evil and he had never met someone, in this life or his previous one, who was as callous as Lizzy White. The net hoisted up and up, maneuvered over the railing, directly above the Jacuzzi. Long before this was a research boat, this was where they dropped their main catch. Finessing the levers came back so naturally. Lizzy understood what was about to happen.
“No, wait!” she screamed, but Manuel could no longer see her. He adjusted the levers, knowing the weight of the net would suffocate her as he dropped her into the pink, marble, bubbling Jacuzzi.
After few moments of silence, he crept up the spiral staircase. Lizzy was drowned in three feet of water, tangled in the thick, deadly gill net. Bubbles clung to her nose. Her green eyes were open, shining gems in the fluorescent floor lights. Manuel settled onto the royal bench, admiring the soft cushion. Then he heard a strange creaking, the failure of wood. The floor beneath the Jacuzzi buckled and gave way, crashing into the room below. Manuel peered down the splintered hole. The walls Lizzy had removed to create the owner’s suite were supporting walls. She had inadvertently aligned Mr. Soto’s bed right beneath his new tub.
Manuel Alvero stripped off his boots and thick shirt, strapped his duffle to his back and jumped into the water. As he swam for shore, navigating the moonlit waters, he could hear vaquitas all around him. How lovely, he thought, to be one with the sea.
Vaquitas are endangered
The vaquita porpoise is the world’s most endangered marine mammal. The primary threat to their existence is drowning in gillnets, which are often used to poach other endangered animals.
To learn more about the effort to save the vaquita porpoise (not a whale), visit VaquitaCPR.org.
Photo credit: Greenpeace