68 Knots (17 page)

“But before you start up that long hill, just near the base of it, you'll see a little spit of land that sticks out into the bay. The road along it isn't much more than a couple of tire ruts through the beach grass, and if you push your way to the very end of that little peninsula, you'll come to Annie's.

“Now Annie's is a pub. A nice pub it is, with big wood tables and music playing that'll either eat your heart out or make you laugh till you puke up last week's breakfast. It's where all the sailors hang out. Not the sailors who live on the top of the hill, with their silk blazers with little gold crests embroidered on them. No, sir. I'm talking about the sailors who work the tankers and the freighters that come and go on the shipping lanes, right up the middle of the Chesapeake. These are big, nasty, funny guys with short fuses and iron jaws. The kind of guy you want next to you when the storm hits, or when your girlfriend's husband comes home early, if you know what I mean.

“And behind the counter was Annie. She was this scrappy old woman, thin as a soda straw and tough as jerky. She grew up in that house, just her and her mom and dad. When she
was a little girl, her dad bought her this little sailboat. Oh, she loved that boat. She sailed it up and down the bay, exploring all the little inlets and islands that color up the shoreline. She learned independence on that boat, she did. She learned how to take care of herself, and to fear nothing. When she was a teenager, she'd sail that boat clear across the bay—right through the shipping lanes—and explore the eastern shore. She'd be gone for days at a time, eating biscuits and drinking water she had packed on board, and sleeping out in the open on the deck of the little boat. She was almost as tall as the boat was long, but she didn't mind discomfort, and she loved the freedom she felt on the water.

“Then, when she was just sixteen years old, her daddy died. He was a deck hand on a tanker that sailed between Baltimore and some ports in South America, and the ship went down one day in the bowels of a hellish storm. All hands were lost in one quick moment.

“When her dad died, Annie stopped sailing. She sold the little boat and set up the pub in the downstairs part of the house. She and her mom lived upstairs, and Annie worked the pub seven days a week. She cooked the food and hauled the kegs and served the drinks, and she kept all the sailors happy with her grog and her spunk. She could stare down the meanest sailor on the bay, and the guys all loved her for it. She grew old and stooped, bent nearly double from lifting all those cases of booze, and she wore thick glasses that still couldn't hide the spark of fire in her eyes.”

Smudge paused for effect, scanning the eyes of the attentive listeners around him. “I don't suppose you have any more rum,” he said, lifting his empty glass. “And a bite of something sure would hit the spot.”

In no time, Smudge had another tall glass of rum and a ham sandwich in his hands. He took a huge bite of the sandwich, washed it down without chewing with a big swallow of rum, belched loudly, grinned, and continued.

“This one Saturday night, all the old sailors were there. They were drinking and laughing and varnishing up a bunch of old lies. Oh, it was a great night to be at Annie's. Guys were throwing darts and arm wrestling and bragging about their women, when—when this man showed up in the doorway.

“He was tall and thin, and he was dressed all in white. White shirt, white sportcoat, white pants, white shoes. Black tie. He was pale, with black hair and a black goatee. And as he stood there”—Smudge leaned forward, his eyes wide—“as he stood there, the whole room fell quiet.” Smudge paused again. “Every single man in that room was thinking back to the last time he had seen this man in the white suit.

“One old guy, a grizzly stocky fellow with forearms like barrels, remembered back to a time years before when he had shipped out on the
Ethel M. Conrad
, a freighter that was crossing the Atlantic heading for South Africa. The ship was caught in a terrible storm, and all the rookie sailors on board were scared for their lives, but this old sailor wasn't worried. He had shipped out on the
Conrad
before, and he knew that the old boat would hold up just fine. She was a tough old boat, and she had been through worse before without a scratch.

“Well, on the second day of the storm, the waves were breaking over the bow and the wind was howling like the dogs of hell. The rookies were sick and terrified, but this old guy just went about his job. The
Conrad
was a loyal friend, and she wouldn't let them down.

“It was on the third day of the storm, when the wind and the waves were fiercer yet, that the old sailor heard something he had never heard before. It was a groaning shrieking sound, and it came from deep within the guts of the ship. The
Conrad
was buckling, twisting beneath the force of the waves, and she was starting to break apart from below.

“The sailors all screamed and scrambled up the gangways, but water gushed in like a linebacker and knocked them to the floor. The lights went out and the sea was pouring in with a vengeance. The sailors were doomed and they knew it, and they were crying and screaming and struggling against the water and each other, scrambling for a last gulp of air—and it was then that this old sailor
said something he shouldn't have said
. An instant later, the lights came back on. The waves eased. The storm slackened. And the
Conrad
righted herself, strong enough to get to the nearest port. It was then that this sailor saw the man in the white suit, and the man in the white suit just nodded and said, ‘I'll be back for you later.'

“And then he was gone.”

Logan whistled low. “I hate it when that happens,” he whispered. Crystal elbowed him in the ribs.

Smudge swallowed more rum and continued. “Another of the sailors there at Annie's that night, he was a scrawny young guy with short hair and mean eyes. He remembered the time he had seen this man in the white suit before. It was just a year earlier, and this young fellow had shipped out on a tanker that had stopped in some dark little port in Southeast Asia. This fellow was in a foul mood, it seems, and he found himself in a shitty little bar drinking more than was smart under the circumstances. He was spoiling for a fight, and so he turned to the guy next to him and knocked him to
the floor. The guy stood up and moved away, so this young fellow smacked the guy on his other side. An instant later, four men had pinned this young fellow to the floor, and the guy he hit was coming toward his face with a broken bottle. It was at that moment that this young fellow
said something he shouldn't have said
. The next instant, this man in the white suit was there, pulling the guys off him and dragging him out the door to safety. When they were outside and away from danger, the man in the white suit just turned to the young fellow and said, ‘I'll be back for you later.' And then he was gone.

“And every sailor there at Annie's that night remembered back to the time he had seen this man in the white suit before. And the man in the white suit just stood in the doorway, looking out at all those sailors, and he smiled. The sailors all stared back at him, or they looked away, or they kept their eyes pointed down at their shoes. And every single one of them knew how this evening would end.”

Smudge paused, then whispered, “'
Cause when you sell your soul to the devil, you have to go with him when he calls
.”

Joy stiffened and grabbed the cross she wore around her neck. Her eyes never left Smudge's face, but she whispered a prayer to herself: “
Padre neustro que estas en los cielos
. . . .”

Smudge leaned forward and continued. “The devil grinned as he looked at all those sailors. ‘My, my, my, my my!' he said. ‘Just look at all of those souls—and all of them mine!'

“He started walking up and down among the tables, calling each sailor by name just to prove that he remembered. ‘Reynolds, good to see you again. Mr. Green, how are the children these days? Gonzalez, you've
almost
saved up enough for law school, haven't you?' And he just walked among them, calling them by name, his eyes glittering black and evil.

“And when he got to the counter, he saw Annie. He saw the fire in her eyes and the grit in her heart, and he said, ‘My, my, my, my my—now
there's
a soul I'd like to have for my own.'

“He thought for a moment, and then he spun on his heel.

“‘Tell you what, boys,' he said to the sailors in the room, ‘I'll make you a little wager. I'll challenge any one of you to the contest of your choosing, but the stakes will be high. If you win, you all get your souls back for free. But if I win, I keep all your souls—and I get hers, too. What do you say?'

“He began walking among the tables again, challenging each sailor by name. ‘Reynolds, you're a strong man. How about a little arm wrestling? Hmm? Green, you've got good aim. Care for a round of darts? Mr. Gonzalez, you're pretty smart. How about a game of chess?'

“But as he walked among the tables, challenging each sailor by name, they all kept their eyes down and their mouths shut. As much as they all desperately wanted to win their souls back, they all loved Annie too much to risk her soul in the bargain.

“When the devil got no takers, he spun on his heel and stormed toward the door. ‘In that case, gentlemen,' he hissed, ‘
it's time to go
.'

“It was at that moment that Annie spoke up. She was still behind the counter, with a dishtowel in her hands. She peered out at the devil from behind her thick glasses, and she called out in a strong voice, ‘You didn't ask me, Devil,' she said. ‘You didn't ask me.'

“The devil bounded over to the counter and looked down at Annie. ‘My dear little Annie,' he crooned, ‘what sort of contest could you possibly propose? Knitting, perhaps? Crochet?'

“‘Sailboats,' Annie said. ‘I'll race you across the bay.'

“The devil laughed out loud. ‘My dear little Annie, not even
I
could accept such an offer. Look at you! You're old. You're frail. You can't see. You—'

“‘It's all right, Devil,' Annie interrupted, patting the devil reassuringly on the arm. ‘It's all right. I know what it's like to be
afraid
.'

“The devil's eyes blazed in anger. ‘Very well, Annie,' he hissed. ‘You've got yourself a race.'

“‘That's fine, Devil,' Annie said. ‘But there are two conditions. The first is, you'll have to provide the boats. It's been a long time since I've had a boat of my own.'

“‘Very well,' the devil replied.

“‘And secondly, Devil,' Annie said, ‘I don't trust you. I never have, and I never will. I think if we race head-to-head, we'll get out there in the middle of the bay, and you'll do something to me. Or you'll do something to my boat. So we won't race head-to-head. One of us will start at six o'clock tomorrow morning, and the other will start at eight. Whoever gets across the bay in the shortest amount of time, that's the winner. And if it's all the same to you, Devil, I'll start at eight.'

“The devil, sensing a trap, reeled back and thought about that for a moment. He knew that the breezes around the Chesapeake blow offshore—from land to sea—at night, and they blow onshore during the day. Around sunrise, the breezes cancel each other out, and the air is nearly still. But by eight o'clock, with the sun higher in the sky, the onshore breeze is strong. So whoever started at eight o'clock would have the advantage.

“‘Fine,” said the devil, ‘but
I'll
start at eight, and
you'll
start at six.'

“Annie nodded grimly. ‘I'll beat you anyway, Devil,' she said. ‘Just wait and see.'

“Just before six o'clock the next morning, all the sailors were gathered on the beach outside of Annie's. Annie was there, too, and so was the devil. True to his word, he had provided two boats.

“On the stern of one, it read
Annie
.

“On the stern of the other, it read
Me
.

“And the boats were
technically
identical, but there were a lot of subtle differences between them. Annie's boat sat low and fat in the water, and the sail didn't seem to fit quite right. But the devil's boat danced on the waves, as if it were eager to get the race under way. There was nothing Annie could do about it, though. She marched up to the devil and looked him in the eye. ‘Just remember, Devil,' she said, yanking him on the sleeve three times. ‘When you feel a little tug, look behind you.'

“The devil laughed, and the sailors helped Annie climb into her boat. At six o'clock sharp, they pushed her boat into deeper water, running behind it as far as they could. Annie set her sail, and the faint breeze pushed the boat ever so slowly away from the beach.

“By eight o'clock, the breeze was strong and fresh. The devil jumped into his boat and filled his sail with a pop. He cut away from the beach, leaving a steady wake behind him.”

Smudge paused and looked around intently at his silent audience. Logan slipped below and returned with a bottle of rum, which he poured into Smudge's empty glass and one he brought for himself. Smudge took a long drink, wiped his mouth on the back of his hairy forearm, and continued.