Combination Safe

The executive suite did not measure up to Audrey’s expectations. To begin with, the glass coffee table was hideously outdated, as was the boxy entertainment cabinet that housed a bulky television set and a DVD player. On the bed lay a tacky duvet with green and blue seashell patterns swirling all over the rough fabric, creating a nauseating image that could not be ignored. A planned distraction from the rest of the unappealing decorations in the room perhaps. Amid the questionable décor was a mesmerizing painting of a ship sailing on a sun-soaked horizon. Not a cruise ship, gaudy in its 21st century build, but a beautiful ornately assembled wooden ship. On the bow clung a commanding figurehead, depicting a warrior woman throwing a spear in combat. Massive sails caught a gust of wind that guided the ship towards the engulfing orange horizon, while a flag bearing the image of a family crest whipped vigorously off the stern. Audrey was sucked in, but she knew she had to hurry. Martin would be back any minute. She took the ship painting off of the wall and set it carefully on the floor. Behind the painting was a safe. 01-99-03 was the combination, a detail she found too easy to acquire. The door opened at the first try and five bricks of cash fell out onto the worn carpet. If Martin had been telling the truth, then Audrey was now in possession of fifty thousand dollars.

How had he let this happen? How had he been so weak in a moment where he held all the power? That money was only half his, a detail he had neglected to tell Audrey that night as they strolled the deck of the cruise liner. She listened to him as if he were the most important man on the planet. She had played him like a fiddle but soon she would be the one making noise unless she returned his cash. Martin made his way into the private event and abrasively stormed past the other passengers waiting in line to order a drink. Something about the intensity of his demeanor excused his rudeness and made the intrusion a non-issue among the crowd hanging around the edge of the bar. His emotional heaviness weighed on those in his vicinity with a crushing force. There was a malevolence to his movements. The bartender knew better than to employ his usual level of playful banter with the agitated customer, and instead poured Martin the warm shot of vodka he requested without a word. Sitting or standing still was not an option until Audrey arrived. Every woman who entered the room carrying a tray of skewered nibbles caught his eye, but he was searching exclusively for Audrey.

Audrey had worked on the cruise ship, Valor, for three months. She was part of the catering staff that provided mingling singles, divorcees, retirees, widows, wedding parties, graduates, and honeymooning couples with meals and beverages included in the all-inclusive cruise package offered on board the vessel. Well dressed, well spoken, and well-educated people circled the open bars and buffets like ravenous hyenas. They consumed without tasting and drank without breathing. Grotesque manners were on display at every turn. Last week, while working a mermaid themed wedding, she had the pleasure of scooping vomit out of the colorful garden display on the aft deck when the uncle of the bride had one too many Rose water infused cocktails. Despite the degradation that came along with serving some of the ship’s elite clients, Audrey found solace in their self-imposed embarrassment. No matter how vile their treatment of her could be at times, she held firm to the belief that she was morally above them all in some capacity.

Attention seeking adults made Martin’s stomach churn and this room was teeming with them. Women huddled around a giant photo booth, sucking in their stomachs, puffing and pouting their lips for an inauthentic reflection. Men pulled combs out of their jackets, running the hair taming tool through thinning locks in an attempt to appear more alluring. Everyone striking unnatural poses of beauty and grace with no hesitation. How could Audrey stand to serve these creatures of pomp? He did not know how much more of this scene he could take. He had to find Audrey and he had to get his money back.

In the kitchen, Audrey was tasked with assembling the trays of appetizers that were to be dispersed amongst the crowd of booze-soaked guests. A surprise birthday party for a thirty-eight-year-old woman was in full swing. She had seen Martin milling around near the bar, obviously uncomfortable in the elevated atmosphere. He had weaseled his way past the security team under the guise of membership in the seven-piece band that was set to send music notes screeching through the room once the birthday girl made her grand entrance. His attempt at a mature look was arresting, considering only one night prior he had sauntered up to her in a Hawaiian shirt and toe revealing man sandals. Something told her that the tropical outfit he wore was not exclusive to the tiki inspired retirement party she cocktailed when they first met. It was almost 6pm. Audrey grabbed a loaded tray of hors d’oeuvres and stepped into the famished crowd with guarded excitement.

Martin attentively watched Audrey glide through the room with great fascination. The insincere smile she gave to those she approached with the tray of skewered vegetables was undetectable to the untrained observer. Her core was made up of a confusing combination of superiority and submission. Watching her from afar gave him the opportunity to see how easily swayed in her direction he was when they first became acquainted at Richard Cullinan’s retirement engagement. It was embarrassing how quickly he had trusted her to such an intimate degree, divulging his big secret with swift and reckless abandon. All he had to do was keep his mouth shut about the money, but her attentive nature had rendered him helpless in her hands.

The money was in a safe place, somewhere Martin would never be able to find it, but getting off of the ship without his making a scene seemed improbable to Audrey. She was playing it cool, knowing that he had more to lose than she did, navigating her way through the party with speed and purpose. Empty trays took her into the kitchen, where she was able to relieve herself of Martin’s intense gaze. Of course, he had good reason, but Martin had not taken his eyes off of her since they had been circulating in the same space. Back out on the main floor with a fresh platter of food, Audrey told herself this was her last rotation of crab dip dolloped fancy croutons before she made her escape. For a small fee she had convinced one of the deck hands to acquire a tender to take her to the Port of Split, and she needed to get there unhindered before nightfall. With a half empty tray still in her possession, Audrey walked back towards the kitchen. On her way through the double doors, she looked over her shoulder and saw Martin dangerously engaged in an unwanted conversation with a drunken guest who had momentarily taken full custody of his attention. Without a word, she set the tray down on the metal island and snuck out the employee exit without anyone noticing. Walking was becoming impossible the closer she got to the towel room.

Foiled once by a catering nymph, Martin now found himself in the clutches of a drunk named Conrad. They had played rounds of Blackjack together in the casino the first night on board but now the two men argued in a heated tone that soon grabbed the attention of some of the patrons. Conrad was unwavering in his belief that Martin had flirted with his wife while they stood in life for breakfast earlier that morning and now he wanted an apology. Every time Martin tried to scan the room, looking over Conrad’s head, the drunk man pulled on Martin’s collar, jerking his head down in the process. In those few brief moments he had lost sight of Audrey. She was not in the kitchen or out on the floor. She was gone. Martin finally pushed Conrad far enough off of him so he could evade his grasp. He ran out onto the deck with no real idea of which way Audrey had gone.

The towel room smelled like heaven and felt like hell. The scent of clean fabric filled the air, but the endless dryer cycles kept the small space hot and unventilated. Tucked inside a broken dryer was Audrey’s small duffle bag. Some clothes and a few pair of shoes rested on top of the money. She grabbed the goods and pushed the door open with great force. The door rammed into someone as soon as it flung open. It was Martin. The two looked into the eyes of the other. No words were spoken as the two began to tussle with the bag. Back and forth the wrestled. As quick as it had started it was soon over. When Martin had given a little slack in an effort to loosen her grip, the bag went flying out of Audrey’s hands and into the ocean. They stood in silence as they watched the bag float towards the ship’s propellers. Although the shredding of the paper was inaudible from the deck, they could both feel the pang of loss shatter their senses as the bag became pulp.

With nothing to be said or done, Martin and Audrey parted ways without much fanfare. Martin kicked over a deck chair, but quickly regained his composure and stormed off to his cabin, muttering insults under his breath. Audrey headed back towards the party. Everyone was probably wondering where she had gone. She would tell them she had been seasick.