Chapter 15
I need you to point me to the supervisor who handles VIP guest lists. I know there is always a list for late additions. There is always a quotota for local dignitaries and emergency family visits. I pressed the folded bills into his hand. It was a smooth motion practiced over decades of getting things done in places where the rules were flexible.
He looked down at his hand. Then he looked at Mia. He saw the fear in her eyes. He saw the determination in mine. The bureaucracy in his face softened just a fraction. Go to the blue tent on the far left. He muttered, pointing away from the main crowd. Ask for Mr. Henderson. Tell him you are looking for the friends and family excursion pass.
But if he says no, you did not hear it from me. Thank you, I said. I moved us toward the blue tent. Mister Henderson turned out to be a young, ambitious man in a sharp suit who looked like he would sell his own mother for a promotion. He started to give me the same speech about capacity.
But when I placed $2,000 in cash on his desk for two visitor passes, he suddenly found a loophole in the computer system. It took 20 minutes of typing, scanning passports, and issuing temporary badges. 20 minutes that felt like 20 years. But finally, he handed me two lanyards with plastic cards. These are valid until 4:30, he warned.
If you are not off the ship by then, you will be sailing to Mexico. I put the lanyard around Mia’s neck. It looked huge on her. We walked down the long pier. The heat was radiating off the concrete, making the air shimmer. And then the crowd parted and we saw it, the icon of the seas. It was not a ship. It was a floating city, a monument to excess.
It towered 20 decks high, blocking out the sun. It [clears throat] was painted in garish white and teal with water slides coiling around the top like colorful intestines. It was massive, loud, and arrogant. It was exactly the kind of thing my son Austin would love. It was a place where you could pretend the real world did not exist.
I looked up at the balconies lining the side of the ship. Thousands of them. Somewhere in that metal belly, my son was drinking a cocktail paid for with his daughter’s future. Somewhere in there, they were laughing. I adjusted the sunglasses on my nose. I checked the time. 12:15. I looked down at Mia.