They returned to the sundeck on the top level. Claire scored some Cokes at the bar, then they sat looking down one level to the swimming pool and the kids screaming down the slide and the grannies standing up to their waist exchanging gossip.
'They're way too happy,' Jimmy said.
'I know,' said Claire. 'Why aren't they worried about the plague? It's probably on board already.'
'Maybe the hospital's full. Maybe there's bodies everywhere.'
Claire nodded. 'And what about Pedroza's mysterious stowaways? I didn't see them get off. Where could he be hiding them now?'
Jimmy sighed and changed the subject. 'I enjoyed the paper.'
'I know. It was fun.'
'Hard.'
'But fun.'
They'd been run ragged. It had been exciting and thrilling and scary.
'I wonder what the new guy's like?' said Claire. 'I'll bet he's making a real mess of our paper.'
'I'll bet Scoop showed him nothing, he was so keen to get off. He'll be floundering around, clueless.'
This time Claire sighed. 'I wish we could go and see what he's doing . . .'
'Well we can't.'
'Or — you can't. You'd get caught, for sure; but there's nothing to stop me going down. Maybe I can volunteer to help, then you can help me in secret.'
Jimmy shook his head. 'It won't work. I'd get caught. And I'm not working as your damn helper anyway.'
'It wouldn't be like that, Jimmy.'
Jimmy shrugged. He stared down at the pool again. He was a little annoyed at the notion of Claire being able to work on the paper again. As he looked down he became aware of a tall, thin black boy staring up at him from the shallow end. Jimmy stared right back. After a few moments the boy slipped under the water and began to swim towards the far end. Jimmy watched him for a few more seconds, then turned back to Claire. He knew he was being stupid about the paper. 'All right,' he said, 'you go down and check it out.'
'Are you sure? He'll probably chase me away.'
'Go on.'
Claire smiled hesitantly at him and turned away.
She hadn't gone more than a few metres, however, before Jimmy called after her. 'Big arse!'
'Brain dead!'
The only difference was that this time, they were both grinning.
***
Jimmy sat in the movie theatre on Deck Four. It was some Disney effort that had been around for years, but the auditorium was cool and dark and a good place to hide. He'd had enough after about half an hour however. When he got up to leave he noticed that the boy who'd been watching him from the pool was seated three rows behind him.
As Jimmy pushed through the doors, the boy got up to follow. As Jimmy reached the elevator just down the corridor and stepped into it, the boy hurried forwards to join him. As the doors began to close the boy broke into a run. Jimmy could have held them, but he didn't.
He got out one floor short of his ultimate destination and hid himself behind an extravagant floral display which nevertheless gave him a good view of the elevator doors.
If he is following me, he'll have waited below to see what floor my elevator stopped at.
Sure enough, just a few moments later, the next elevator arrived, the doors opened, and the boy stepped out and peered cautiously about him. Failing to spot Jimmy immediately, he then hurried past the floral display towards a customer services lounge where passengers were already busy booking their next cruises.
Jimmy used the stairs to return to the top deck. He wondered if he should chance going for a swim. The water looked so inviting and cool — but it would be very difficult to escape from it if he was spotted. As he leaned on the rail, thinking about it, he noticed that his skin was getting sunburned. He was going to have to liberate some sunscreen from . . .
He was poked in the back.
The black kid.
Up close he was a full head taller than him. He poked Jimmy in the chest.
'You.'
'You what?
'You.'
With the third poke, Jimmy poked him right back.
The boy grabbed a handful of Jimmy's T-shirt. 'I've been following you.'
'I know,' said Jimmy. 'Are you gay?'
'You're wearing my T-shirt.'
'Yeah, sure,' said Jimmy then gave him a hard shove in the chest. Caught off guard, the boy stumbled backwards. Jimmy took off. The boy came right after him.
Jimmy had never done a day's training in his life, but he was naturally pretty quick.
This other kid was faster.
Jimmy just managed to keep ahead of him by leaping over sunbeds and ducking under umbrellas and pulling ice buckets and ashtray stands over in his wake. He charged inside and took the carpeted stairs six at a time, using the polished rails for support.
They moved down through four decks like that, Jimmy never more than a dozen steps ahead of his pursuer. They pushed through elderly couples. Toddlers were pulled hastily out of their way. Then the boy made his move, diving from the top of a flight of stairs and just catching Jimmy around the neck. They landed in a heap, with the other boy on top, his weight forcing the wind out of Jimmy. The boy straddled him and grabbed him by the throat.
'My T-shirt!'
'Get off me, you big fruit!'
'That's my T-shirt, now get it off!'
'Kiss my arse!'
The boy punched him. It hurt. He tasted blood and saw distant stars.
'Get it off!' He raised his fist again, quite ready to inflict more damage.
Jimmy, to give himself time to come up with an alternative escape plan, pretended to cave in. 'OK . . . all right! Relax, would you?'
'Get it off. . . !'
'There's obviously been some kind of misunderstanding . . .'
'Get it off!'
'All right . . . Just, there's thousands of T-shirts like this one . . . Honestly, you think they make just one T-shirt like this?' It was red, with the letters APNJ across the top with the picture of an eagle below. 'I swear to God! I got this in Belfast, where'd you get yours?'
The boy barely hesitated. As he spat out the words, he poked each of the letters on Jimmy's chest. 'Asbury . . . Park . . . New . . . Jersey.'
'See? They sell them all over the world!'
'This is my school T-shirt! I go to school in Asbury Park, New Jersey! The eagle represents my school team! My name is sewn into the inside of the collar!' He grabbed the neck of the shirt and twisted it round. 'See? Ty Warner! That's my name! Ty Warner! You stole it from my room! Now take it off or I will kill you.'
Jimmy blinked up at him, then suddenly wailed: 'I can't!'
Ty Warner looked surprised. 'Why not?'
Tears formed up in the corner of Jimmy's eyes. 'Because it's the only T-shirt I have! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to steal it. Just to borrow it. Please! I'm a stowaway. I don't have any other clothes.' Tears rolled down his cheeks. 'Please don't hit me again.'
Jimmy was an expert at crying to order. When violence and trickery didn't work, tears were often used as a last resort. He wasn't particularly proud of it, but he was particularly good at it.
Ty's voice softened. 'What do you mean, you're a stowaway?'
'I snuck on board. I'd nowhere else to go. My parents died of the Red Death.'
This more than anything caused Ty to scurry backwards off Jimmy.
'It's OK, I'm probably not infected.' The boy kept his distance. Jimmy sat up, then faked a sneeze. He wiped his nose on the arm of the T-shirt. 'You can have it back if you really . . .'
The boy held his hands up. 'No . . . you keep it. . .'
Jimmy wiped at his eyes. 'Are you sure?'