Fake Friends in the Yacht Club

Sunshine on the open sea. Then a parade of yachts, roaring over the horizon. These are billionaires, members of the local yacht club. Then there is Jimmy. Jimmy is not a billionaire. Only today, he’s assistant captain of a yacht, shadowing a member named Richard. The club had teamed up with a local game show to award a prize to a lucky winner. Jimmy had won. Now he gets to spend the day with them. It meant more to him than the average Joe. He dreamed of driving sports cars, of flying in private jets, of being part of a yacht club. Only, his reality was different. He takes public transit, struggles to pay rent, and works as a food prep in a pizza restaurant. At least I’m not a dishwasher, Jimmy always told himself.

“So, you like the ocean much?” Richard asked Jimmy.

“Not as much as I like yachts,” he blurted back, trying to impress Richard.

“Hm. Well I’m happy to accommodate you on this weekend’s adventures.” He forced a smile. Then he had an idea. A plan for total humiliation. “Tell you what,” he continued. “How would you like to race against one of my buddies?”

“Well, uh, yeah, sure,” said Jimmy. “That’d be pretty cool.”

Richard gave a natural grin this time. Hopping on the communication system between the dozen or so yachts, Richard announced the challenge.

“Calling all members. I’ve got Jimmy here with me, the lucky winner from the game show last month. Is there anyone willing to take him on in a race, your yacht against mine?”

Almost immediately, several people replied over the communication system, offering a race, their voices drowning in laughter. One had a voice that penetrated all others.

The voice announced, “Beat me in a race Jimmy, one nautical mile straight ahead, and I’ll give you twenty-thousand dollars! Right here, right now.” The words made no attempt hiding his drunkenness. The members grew wild with laughter.

“You’re on,” replied Jimmy as Richard let him take over the piloting controls.

The two set off, gliding forward ahead of all others. The challenger took a slight lead, but his drunkenness seemed to affect his steering. Soon Jimmy had pulled ahead, a terrible laughter breaking out as he saw victory.

“Twenty thousand dollars!” He screamed out loud, more so to Richard than himself.

The communication system engaged.

“Well, a bet’s a bet,” spoke the challenger, completely bewildered. “Stand on the deck and I’ll send over the money.”

Jimmy went outside, confused about his command. Then there was a whirring noise. A large drone appeared, holding a bundle of twenty-grand within its claws. The drone hovered above him. Then, it released the cash, the wind blowing it all around the deck. Jimmy cackled as money rained from the sky. Pulling out his phone, Jimmy took a few selfies with the piles of cash.

“This is insane!” hollered Jimmy as he returned to the cabin.

He thought of the nice car he was going to buy. Richard was quiet, staring from the side of his eye. The inconceivable idea that Jimmy had won angered him.

“Listen Jimmy, enjoy your cute bundle of spending money, but you’re not rich,” he snapped. “You’re just like everyone else in society. We need you guys to hold us up at the top.”

Jimmy was hit like a sucker punch to the face. A bag of bricks. An unstoppable force colliding with an immovable object, only Jimmy had budged. He had nothing to say to break the silence. So Richard continued. The disgust for a poor man radiating through his body.

“Don’t hit me with the silent treatment horse shit. It’s the truth. Enjoy your time here because soon enough, you’re back to basics. Sure, maybe you can go to school now at least, get a proper education like many of us did.”

Jimmy stood still, looking down, and rolling with the punches.

“Listen Jimmy, you’re killing my vibe, but no hard feelings, okay? I’m gonna grab a drink. You mind taking control of the ship till I get back?”

“Um, no, not at all.”

“Good, and hey, you want me to grab you anything?

“Oh sure. You got any beer?”

Richard left before hearing the request, lighting a cigar on his way out. Jimmy cursed to himself once he was alone. Maybe I can get rich through these guys. I’ve just got to build a connection. Networking, that’s what they call it. Get invited to the next oceanic adventure.

Through the mindless stare of one in deep thought, Jimmy’s eyes came to rest on a little black notebook, lying on a desk to the side of the ship's controls. It read Trip Itinerary on the front. Without much thought, Jimmy grabbed it, slipping it into his pocket. The rest of the day, Richard ceased to notice, the tension in the room enough to keep him distracted from anything else. The man really hated this guy.

* * *

A few hours later and Jimmy was home, all by himself. It’s all about to change, he thought to himself. The first impression wasn’t so great, but now Jimmy had money. Planning his next meeting, he opened Richard’s Trip Itinerary, looking for future outings. The first few pages detailed past adventures, until soon Jimmy got up to speed with the current ones. Jimmy grinned as he found today’s date on the list. Next week read: The Cayman Islands. Reading on, Jimmy moved to a new section of the notebook, one with no title. The words were scribbled, accompanied by black and white, telephoto photographs - the work of a private investigator.

A few excerpts included:

“Carl’s toupee is more obvious than his homosexuality.” - followed by a photo of a man leaning down to pick up his toupee, his bald head exposed.

“Johnathan cheats on his wife with Robert’s.” - a photo of a man greeting a woman at the front door of a house, presumably Robert’s.

“Kenny’s wealth comes from selling drugs.” - then a shot of an American in a suit, standing at a cooking operation in the jungle.

Jimmy read on, into the night. His posture taking the form of a supervillain.

When the day of the club’s outing to the Cayman Islands came around, Jimmy was more than prepared, ready to reacquaint himself, to make some new friends. He clutched the black notebook in his hand, knowing Richard would fear him upon their next meeting. A blackmail, Jimmy laughed. A ticket to billions. The power was in his hands. As he left his house, he stopped to admire himself in the mirror.

“It ain’t cheap to look this good,” he told himself.

* * *

Sunshine on the open sea. A parade of yachts. Then, a single helicopter, roaring over the horizon. Jimmy honed in on the formation of yachts.

“Land on that one,” Jimmy told the pilot, pointing to the empty helicopter pad on Richard’s yacht. The pilot obeyed. With the price he was being paid, he knew better than to ask questions. Every hour cost Jimmy a few thousand dollars, renting the ride.

Jimmy hopped out of the chopper, a three piece suit, gold wristwatch, shades, and a fresh haircut were his companions.

“Well hello, Richard!”

“What the hell are you doing Jimmy?” he asked.

“I saw your Trip Itinerary, thought I’d come say hello.”

The man’s face expanded. Like a balloon. Jimmy got back in the chopper, directing the pilot to head off.

“Looks like you’re almost at the islands, I’ll be seeing you!”

Jimmy flew away, plotting to meet them again very soon.

“Who the hell was that?” asked nearly all the club members over the communication system.

“That idiot Jimmy,” replied Richard.

“What are you two, a couple?” one of them asked.

“Yeah Richard, that guys a loser. Only you would want to keep hanging out with him!” another continued.

“He came uninvited. I don’t know who the hell he thinks he is,” said Richard, shaking his head.

About an hour later, the yachts docked on the islands. They walked up the beach, stopping first to admire the houses. From a veranda walked out a man in a robe, smoking a cigar. It may have been hard to tell beneath the shades, but the man was Jimmy, basking in a rental home.

“Why hello!” hollered Jimmy to the men down below. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Seeing the club members grouped together for the first time, Jimmy began to notice how cut-throat each of them looked. Still, Jimmy idolized them.

“Ah, it’s Jimmy!” chuckled the man who had paid him the twenty-thousand.

“Why don’t you guys come inside?” beckoned Jimmy.

“Sure. Not a bad idea,” replied Richard with a hint of stress. The crew looked at him surprised, yet a malicious interest kept them from denying the offer.

As they made their way up to his place, Jimmy received a phone call.

“Where the hell are you Jimmy?” He was taken by surprise, remembering what he missed. “I hope you didn’t forget. It’s our busiest day yet, and we’ve got no one to make the pizzas!” Jimmy grinned.

“Well, as a matter of fact, I’m on the Cayman Islands. I won’t be needing my job anymore.” Jimmy hung up, making sure to turn his phone off. He stepped toward the front door, letting the club inside.

“Welcome, welcome! Make yourselves at home,” said Jimmy. The members scattered around the main floor, looking around with a malicious curiosity.

Easily enough, Jimmy could notice which one was Carl, the one with the toupee. He never lowered his head, a subtle embarrassment following him around. Then Jimmy saw Jonathon, a greasy sexual desire present in his ego. No wonder he cheated on his wife. Soon enough Jimmy realized most of these people probably did.

“You certainly were hot to spend that money,” said the man who had paid Jimmy the twenty-thousand. Recognizing the man in the photograph, Jimmy saw this man was Kenny. The drug dealer. With a sudden realization, he saw his idols for who they really were. He thought of his childhood, spent on a farm with hard-working, honest people. Where did it all go?, Jimmy wondered.

“Listen Jimmy,” said one of the club members, breaking him out of his trance. “This is all real cute, but don’t try to fool any of us. We know you’re not rich, and at this point, we’ve gotta wonder if you’re going to have any money left after today!” The others chipped in. Richard was the only one who held his tongue.

“Have fun getting back,” they continued. “And have fun working at your little pizza job.”

Jimmy’s hand reached into his pocket, feeling for Richard’s notebook. A couple of them spat on the ground. Jimmy took the notebook out of his pocket. He was ready to shatter the illusion these men lived under. Then, on their way out, one of them punched a painting on the wall. That was it.

“Hey Richard!” called Jimmy.

The man froze, his tight suit gripping him like a cage as he expanded, once again, with nerve.

“I think you dropped something.” Jimmy stretched his arm out, offering the notebook.

Richard hesitated, then snatched it back. He muttered something under his breath.

“Have fun with your friends,” replied Jimmy. “You guys have a real beautiful connection, held together with all that dough!” He slammed the door with a good kick, relieved they were gone.

Jobless, with nothing but a suit and wristwatch left, Jimmy sat alone in the beach house. He looked to book a flight out of the islands, using the last of his money. Only, instead of flying back to where he lived, he looked for flights headed to his childhood hometown. The town where his parents still lived. They could use a visit, thought Jimmy. It’s been years since I’ve seen them. As he packed his bags and stepped out the front door, he skipped admiring himself in the mirror. This time, his mind was someplace else.