Read Online Freaky Deaky by Elmore Leonard - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Elmore Leonard
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it.”
“It’s a beauty, hundred-and-seven-foot motor yacht designed strictly for entertaining. You rent it for about seven hundred an hour, take your friends out, your customers, it holds about a hundred and fifty people. They set up a buffet in the lower deck, the salon. Topside there’s a bar and a big open afterdeck.”
“Wasn’t it cold?”
“We wore coats, it wasn’t bad. I told you, it was a benefit type of cruise, raise money for somefoundation that has to do with promoting culture. Esther’s into all that. Beautiful buffet, wine, any kind of booze you want—I only saw one guy smashed. Guy would finish a drink and throw his glass off the stern. The kind of thing you might see at a police outing, you and your buddies get together. No, this was a well-behaved crowd, so you noticed a jerk like this guy. Plus the fact when it got cold he put on a fur coat. Looked like some kind of wild animal standing up drinking martinis. Five hours, he must’ve had twenty silver bullets. I’m not kidding.”
“Got his head bent pretty good.”
“You’d think so, but he hardly showed it, outside of being obnoxious. I mean he didn’t fall down or start a fight.”
Chris turned from the window. His dad was on the sofa now, straightening the newspapers. “Where’d you go, south?”
“Yeah, down the river. They were making a movie on Belle Isle. We didn’t know what was going on. Somebody said they were filming a car chase.”
“Jerry Baker was assigned to it. He said they blew up some cars.”
“Yeah, on the Detroit side, off the bridge. We heard about it but didn’t see it. We had to go past on the Canadian side. This’s a big boat, holds a hundred and fifty people.”
“Jerry said it took all day to film the one shot. They built a ramp so the car would go flying off the bridge up in the air. They film guys shooting at the car with machine guns one day, then film the car exploding the next day. Jerry said most of the time all you do is stand around.”
“We didn’t see any of that,” his dad said. “We cruised past the riverfront, checked to see if the Renaissance Center was still there, went down as far as Joe Louis Arena and came about. It was nice, they served the buffet, they had roast beef, chicken. . . . This guy, this jerk I mentioned’d drink his martini and throw the glass over the side? This guy, all by himself, sits down at the buffet table, people trying to get around him, and eats off the serving platters. Pushes the salad around with his fork, finds a tomato, reaches over, spears a few shrimp, pulls the platter of smoked fish practically right in front of him. Unbelievable. You imagine? Who wants any salad after this guy’s been eating out of the bowl? People have to walk around him—nobody says a word.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t.”
“I almost did, I came close. Esther wouldn’t let me. I’m telling you the truth, this guy must’ve had twenty martinis. One right after the other. Stopped to mess up the buffet table and went back at it. I don’t know why he wasn’t laid out on the deck.”
“Fun on the river,” Chris said.
“We had a nice time. . . . The guy was harmless, I shouldn’t let it bother me.”
“Who was he, you know?”
“No, and I see all these people coming up to him, shaking his hand, being very pleasant. This guy gives ’em a stupid grin, like he has no idea who they are. Acting goofy. I ask Esther, she can’t believe I don’t know who it is. So she tells me his name. . . . Now I can’t think of it. Buddy? No, that’s not it. I said to Esther, ‘Where’ve I been? I must’ve been out blacktopping parking lots all my life, I never heard of this guy.’ I said, ‘What’s he known for, outside of being a horse’s ass?’ Esther says you have as much dough as this guy you can do just about anything you want. Well, you can’t argue with her there, you see the way these rich guys park in front of the Detroit Club. You or I, we
“It’s a beauty, hundred-and-seven-foot motor yacht designed strictly for entertaining. You rent it for about seven hundred an hour, take your friends out, your customers, it holds about a hundred and fifty people. They set up a buffet in the lower deck, the salon. Topside there’s a bar and a big open afterdeck.”
“Wasn’t it cold?”
“We wore coats, it wasn’t bad. I told you, it was a benefit type of cruise, raise money for somefoundation that has to do with promoting culture. Esther’s into all that. Beautiful buffet, wine, any kind of booze you want—I only saw one guy smashed. Guy would finish a drink and throw his glass off the stern. The kind of thing you might see at a police outing, you and your buddies get together. No, this was a well-behaved crowd, so you noticed a jerk like this guy. Plus the fact when it got cold he put on a fur coat. Looked like some kind of wild animal standing up drinking martinis. Five hours, he must’ve had twenty silver bullets. I’m not kidding.”
“Got his head bent pretty good.”
“You’d think so, but he hardly showed it, outside of being obnoxious. I mean he didn’t fall down or start a fight.”
Chris turned from the window. His dad was on the sofa now, straightening the newspapers. “Where’d you go, south?”
“Yeah, down the river. They were making a movie on Belle Isle. We didn’t know what was going on. Somebody said they were filming a car chase.”
“Jerry Baker was assigned to it. He said they blew up some cars.”
“Yeah, on the Detroit side, off the bridge. We heard about it but didn’t see it. We had to go past on the Canadian side. This’s a big boat, holds a hundred and fifty people.”
“Jerry said it took all day to film the one shot. They built a ramp so the car would go flying off the bridge up in the air. They film guys shooting at the car with machine guns one day, then film the car exploding the next day. Jerry said most of the time all you do is stand around.”
“We didn’t see any of that,” his dad said. “We cruised past the riverfront, checked to see if the Renaissance Center was still there, went down as far as Joe Louis Arena and came about. It was nice, they served the buffet, they had roast beef, chicken. . . . This guy, this jerk I mentioned’d drink his martini and throw the glass over the side? This guy, all by himself, sits down at the buffet table, people trying to get around him, and eats off the serving platters. Pushes the salad around with his fork, finds a tomato, reaches over, spears a few shrimp, pulls the platter of smoked fish practically right in front of him. Unbelievable. You imagine? Who wants any salad after this guy’s been eating out of the bowl? People have to walk around him—nobody says a word.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t.”
“I almost did, I came close. Esther wouldn’t let me. I’m telling you the truth, this guy must’ve had twenty martinis. One right after the other. Stopped to mess up the buffet table and went back at it. I don’t know why he wasn’t laid out on the deck.”
“Fun on the river,” Chris said.
“We had a nice time. . . . The guy was harmless, I shouldn’t let it bother me.”
“Who was he, you know?”
“No, and I see all these people coming up to him, shaking his hand, being very pleasant. This guy gives ’em a stupid grin, like he has no idea who they are. Acting goofy. I ask Esther, she can’t believe I don’t know who it is. So she tells me his name. . . . Now I can’t think of it. Buddy? No, that’s not it. I said to Esther, ‘Where’ve I been? I must’ve been out blacktopping parking lots all my life, I never heard of this guy.’ I said, ‘What’s he known for, outside of being a horse’s ass?’ Esther says you have as much dough as this guy you can do just about anything you want. Well, you can’t argue with her there, you see the way these rich guys park in front of the Detroit Club. You or I, we
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