34

Merry took a closer look at Charlie. Sure enough, he was wearing some kind of bizarre pirate's tunic, with a flexible, collapsible TV embedded into the front of it. On the screen was Gro Harlem Brundtland, looking menacing.

Edward blinked. He bellowed angrily. "I will NOT ... let YOU ... TAKE ... my SHIP!"

Gro Harlem Brundtland cackled. "Pardon me, Edward, But it seems to me, you don't have much say in the matter!"

Charlie came forth and gently beckoned for his mom, sister and possible future stepdad to walk a crumbling gangplank between the two boats. Gro Harlem Brundtland's visage flickered but her smiling mug was coming in clearly.

"Tyrant!" Edward bellowed. "Troglodyte! Bashi-bazouk!" He fretted and fumed, but hopped down the staircase just the same, over a ramp and through an archway.

Edward's frustration was tangible as they followed the gold tunic who might or might not be Charlie, down some more steps to a swimming pool.

Mary darted her eyes around with razor-sharp, protective anger.

"Why is there a swimming pool on a boat?" asked Merry gamely. She idly plucked at the festive, blue and white plastic straps on one of the deck chairs.

"I don't know, Merry," Mary said. Merry was still unconvinced that the situation was not a hoax.

"Come on, CHARLIE," she said. "Take off that TV, you look like a dork in that gold dress!"

Charlie twitched.

Well, Merry thought, that's always how it works in the movies. Make them angry, make them sad, just force them to break through, anything as long as they are forced to think it through.

The twin halves of Charlie's mind were wrestling at that moment like cracker packages jockeying for position with a bottle of vanilla.

"Ah!" Charlie cried, a touch of his most prevalent emotions coming back. Charlie's strongest emotions tended to be disdain and sarcasm, so obnoxious as it was, Mary felt relief at the sight of a glimpse of something that was definitely Charlie in nature.

"Grrr," said Merry, looking her brother in the eyes.

"Now, my pets," said the image of Gro Harlem Brundtland in a strained voice. "You're probably wondering why-"

Merry got a stubborn impulse, not only to chop the villain into shark food but to pre-empt her, cut off her messages. A babyish, primal anger to leave Brundtland falling on deaf ears - she lunged ahead and whapped Charlie on the shoulder.

Charlie lost his balance and fell in the swimming pool.

Merry, Edward and Mary stood around the perimeter of the pool. The low ceiling hummed with boatbound voices. The surface of the water rippled as Charlie did the only stroke he knew: a haphazard doggie paddle which was more like an act of desperation than a swim. But it worked. As he periodically arched on to his back and the TV screen came into view, Charlie's family could see Brundtland, deep in her own oratory. They couldn't hear what she was saying.

It was like the third reel of a four-reel film, the one in which Bond's arch-enemy indulges in heavy exposition as Bond and a sidekick travel slowly down the conveyor belt, ever closer to the buzz saw.

Except the Conrad family was now missing the entire third reel. Merry had gotten her wish for pre-emption as Brundtland was still prattling on, but with the volume knob at zero. Her muffled voice could occasionally be heard but no words escaped the cascade of swirling, rushing water.

Charlie tore the tunic off his body in desperate anger. The TV-shirt was paper thin and fragile, with ugly green printed circuits on the inside.

Edward tore his jacket off and handed it to the boy who was coughing water, violently coughing, recovering from the attack.

They backtracked angrily, arrogant, up a staircase, through a door, over a ramp, back to the rickety, narrow strip of wood between the boats.

"We shut her down," said Merry hoarse and sick.

Charlie coughed, shivered. A seagull flew overhead.

"We shut her out."

Mary huddled with her children in an embrace, thinking instinctively of Doris, a secular prayer for her childrens' safety.

Edward held back, his mouth a grim, long line.

"Who was she?" said Merry.

"I don't know," said Edward.

Merry's eyes flared. "Your damn boats! We don't need your goddamn boats."

Mary looked at the ground, distraught.

Edward held still, expressionless.

"You'd better just stay the hell away from me - I hate you!"