Coincidence - Alan May [39]
The initiate was then led to an oversize chair, where several more of Neptune’s helpful assistants anointed his upper body with old motor oil, cracked eggs over his head, and then covered the whole gooey mess with a floury white powder. This was to demonstrate that the king also ruled above the water and could do whatever he wanted.
Next it was time for Evan to show his respect for the king by going on all fours through a canvas tube about twenty feet long and twenty-five inches in diameter. As soon as he entered the tube, the king’s ever-helpful assistants turned on the deck-mounted fire hose behind him to speed him in his travel to the king, not to mention tidy him up a bit for the royal presentation.
The final task was to kneel before the king and ask for permission to cross the equator. Was it Evan’s imagination, or did Neptune’s voice sound suspiciously like Anika’s? And wasn’t “he” awfully small to be so powerful? In any case, the king always granted this request and was in fact so delighted to add a member to his retinue that he graciously bestowed the gift of a cookie on the new shellback. His Majesty would be offended if one were to refuse to gobble up the offering in his presence, so Evan took a big bite. Bleeaah! He had no idea what was in the thing—he’d rather not know. It was all he could do not to spit it out.
The new shellbacks assembled at Neptune’s delicate feet and cheered on the dazed and soggy pollywogs as they appeared one by one. When the last initiate—Mary Wilson—came through, a thunderous cheer rose up to greet her.
The captain awarded the new members of the Shellback Club certificates to prove they had undergone the proper initiation. They posed for photos, smiling into the cameras in exuberant muckiness, beaming with pride at having crossed the equator and survived.
The following day the ship reached the Galápagos.
14
When Stefano awoke on Thursday morning, he looked out the window and saw a pristine blue sky with not a cloud in sight. He took it as a good omen. Not that he was worried. They were ready. They had spent the past four days honing his plan. Between his brilliant concept and his little brother’s meticulous working out of every last element—Juanito might as well have examined the details under a microscope—what could go wrong?
Everyone was excited. Juan cooked a huge meal of huevos rancheros. They couldn’t do what they needed to do today on tea and toast, he snorted, and it might just be their last square meal for several days.
“Yeah, especially if we all get seasick,” Esteban said.
Severo was already feeling a little seasick. He didn’t share the others’ attitude that nothing could go wrong. Something could always go wrong, no matter how carefully you tried to prepare.
He could think of a million things without half trying. He hadn’t slept a wink all night thinking of them. What if the trucks were driving too fast and Polo got killed in the crash? What if his rifle jammed? What if the cartel found them? What if the drugs were discovered on Easter Island? There was no way anybody could control everything. Not even Juan and Stefano.
It was all Severo could do not to hurl his untouched plate of eggs at the brothers and their self-congratulatory talk. He stabbed his fork in and out of his eggs. How could they possibly believe that the cartel wouldn’t find anything for months? That the authorities wouldn’t care? Juan and Stefano must be as ignorant as they were arrogant if they thought that was realistic.
By noon everyone was in place. Polo sat in the SUV in the designated spot in the driveway; Esteban was in the pickup truck on the side of the road, a half mile away. Juan was ensconced in the clump of ficus at the road to the left of the driveway, Severo amid a thicket of trees to the right. Stefano waited in the ditch on the other side of the road just past the driveway, camouflaged by the jumble of thunbergia vines.
Their engines were running and their guns were cocked.
Esteban heard traffic approaching just before