Why Did He Die?

Chapter 7

Rob, Larry, Suzanne and I lay by the pool totally exhausted and it wasn’t ten in the morning. The turquoise azure sky blended into the soft undulating water of the Caribbean but we weren’t inclined to swim. The sun was bearing down on us. Rob took off his shirt. I said, “Do we remember the same thing about last night?”

We recollected that one of us had been with Andrew since three or three-thirty yesterday when we returned from the airport. “Not to be too crude but I hurried out of the car in need of the john. I was sitting on the toilet when Andrew came in to take a shower. We continued to talk until he was out and toweled off. He seemed so happy. He didn’t seem worried or apprehensive.”

We reconstructed the dinner conversation. We tried to remember if he said anything about his food. Rob said, “When that waiter put his food down. He said something like ‘this smells like it has almonds.’ What does that mean? I sniffed my food since we had ordered the same dish and only smelled garlic. I really didn’t think anymore about it.”

“You know what,” Larry said “The guy who took our order was not the guy who served the food.”

“That’s not unusual,” I offered, “Restaurants do that so you know they are bringing the food as soon as it is ready.”

“But we never saw the guy after he served us. Remember I had to wave at a waiter to try to get some water which we never got.”

We agreed we’d tell the same story when we talked to the police. I realized that my stomach was growling. At that moment Rob said, “Let’s go see what is left of Mama Lena’s. That’ll take your mind off of food.”

“The police told us to stay here. I can’t just sit here. I’ve got to do something.”

“Let’s walk on the beach. If the police come we can see them,” Larry offered. Gertrude led us to the locked back gate and admonished us to relock the gate when we returned. We walked onto the beach with Larry in his pink thong; me in my black thong which looks great on my tanned body; and Rob is in his surfers hanging low on his hips. As we walked along we said little until we heard Nick’s voice coming up behind us. He joined in our quiet funeral march. Occasionally we would glance toward the upper deck to see if anyone was waiting. We walked to the far end of the golden crescent when Larry headed into the waves crashing onto the smooth coral filled sand. We played like nothing had happened. The water was comforting.

The remorse and guilt was easier to take if I kept moving. Rob pointed toward the house, “There they are.” At first the officers were mere specks. As we approached we could see their black faces and official uniforms standing uncomfortably in the noonday sun.

Inspector LeFaux introduced himself as did the other two men. Suzanne suggested sitting under the big umbrella. Gertrude placed a tray of lemonade before us and poured for those interested. LeFaux seemed to be in a hurry and while we were standing around the table he laid out gruesome pictures of a man’s body badly burned. LeFaux said, “We found this body in the restaurant fire but he was dead before he was burned.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he was dead in the restaurant and when it was set on fire. Do you recognize him?”

Each of us including Nick who wasn’t even there studied the pictures. Larry turned away and gagged. I acknowledged after squinting that the man was probably our first waiter. I said, “This guy took our order but we never saw him again. He still has what is left of a handkerchief tied around his neck.”

Inspector Le Faux said, “While it is too early to say absolutely, but it appears that your friend Andrew Henley was the victim of a violent act of a sick man — the waiter.

“What?” I gasp dramatically.

“Yes,” he said. “Mr. Antonio Sinni had a significant history of mental problems. It appears that he killed your waiter, a close friend of his and poisoned your friend’s food with arsenic, we speculate. We have to wait for the autopsy and lab test to be sure. Shortly after you left the restaurant he set the fire and went across the street to his apartment and hung himself. We found a suicide note written in Italian. I’m told it says, “I told you not to. I’m sorry. Very sorry, Georgio. Hail Mary, mother of God forgive me. Tony”

“That’s too easy. But that explains why no one came to claim the money we left on the table,” Larry said.

Inspector Le Faux jumped in quickly. “Mr. Haffner, I said we think this is what happened. We have many more people to talk to. Did Mr. Henley have any enemies that you know of on the island?” I shook my head, ‘No,’ but I was thinking of Lee. I shook my head again. The inspector caught the move, “Did you think of someone?”

“No, but yesterday he mentioned some guy he hated in college. That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Did he give you a name?”

“Not really and I know it didn’t have anything to do with this.” But I was quite sure Lee would do whatever if he had a strong enough reason.

“If you think of anyone,” he concluded in an official manner, “Let us know.”

I asked him what he thought I should do about contacting Andrew’s family. “Do you know anyone else who knows him?”

“Since his stepfather is supposed to be arriving soon I decided to wait.” I did send a cable to Hong Kong asking Lee if he might know anyone in Andrew’s family.

Late in the afternoon the Sulu came around the point to the west under sail. The sails were struck about two hundred yards off shore. Nick launched a dingy from the beach as Rob and I steady the rubber boat in the heavy surf. Rob ended up swimming out with the lead as Nick struggled to get the Evinrude started.

I was really irritated that it has taken Roddy and Shay so long to get back. I was standing with my legs spread and arms crossed as they stepped on shore. “Where have you been?”

They looked startled. We got the message about the accident and we headed straight back. We started back as soon as we got the message.”

I was still angry, “You guys were probably too stoned to know when you got the call. The yacht club radioed hours ago.” I was mad and they were the victims. “My best friend is killed and it is like nothing to you.”

Roddy took offense at my reprimand. “We weren’t stoned. The message did not say Andrew was dead. It simply said there was an accident.”

I snapped at Larry, “Who at the yacht club did you tell to call them?”

“When I walked in the door René said he had already radioed you. René told me he heard from someone in Phillipsburg — news travels fast.”

Nick jumped to Roddy’s defense, “I assumed that René did call.”

“We set sail immediately after we got the message.”

“Who in Phillipsburg knew that Andrew was connected to the Sulu? I want to ask René who he talked to. Anyone want to go with me?”

“I want to see the restaurant,” Rob said.

“OK, we’ll do that after we talk to René.”

Roddy sensing a calmer moment, said to me, “When is the funeral? Where will it be?”

“We will have to wait until his stepfather gets here today or tomorrow to decide. I do not know anyone who knows Andrew. We’ll have to wait.”

Rob turned toward the front door when a vehicle pulled up. He met the driver at the front door and accepted a Telex.

“Maybe this will answer your question.” I opened the Telex. Dateline Solomon Islands, USA. I read it aloud. “Sorry to hear about Andrew. Know nothing about his family. Stay there. Lee.”

Before anyone spoke the telephone rang. The doctor at the hospital started by offering his condolences and followed with, “I’ve never seen anyone die so fast. The poison was powerful.” He continued, “I have a problem. The body is decomposing very quickly. What do you want us to do? The autopsy is complete and the samples sent to the police lab in Jamaica. The police have released the body for burial and we don’t have space to keep it. I suggest you bury him quickly or cremate him. That can be done by an undertaker down the street from the hospital.”

I put my hand over the mouthpiece and shared what the doctor said expecting the assembled group to give me some advice. I got too much advice. I quieted them and shook my head. I uncovered the mouthpiece and spook, “I think we should have the body cremated. If we find his family we can deliver the ashes to them.”

“Fine, I’ll call the undertaker. His name is Van Gelderen on Front Street. You need to call him to make the arrangements. He will need you to sign the necessary papers.” I reported to the group what he had said and asked a question, “Do you think a funeral or memorial service?” The group muttered that no one really knew enough about Andrew to have much of a service. I knew more than anyone. I walked to our bedroom thinking about Andrew. It dawned on me I was going to be alone in Hong Kong. My best friend was murdered and I had a nagging feeling it wasn’t an accident. I had no idea how or where to start unraveling this jumble of facts. I lay on my back watching the ceiling fan slowly stir the air. I tried to remember everything he told me. I closed my eyes and tried to hear his voice the night we talked followed by our gentle lovemaking.

I could hear his soft voice telling me as we watched the Hong Kong night illuminated by millions of stars: “My parents actually moved to the states in 1986 but I remained in England for six horrible years in boarding school. I finished my last in two years of high school in California. Before the mid-80’s my parents lived in Bangladesh and I travelled there for school holidays except during the summer when I went to South Devon where my maternal grandparents lived. South Devon had gorgeous scenery and friendly people. I have many fond memories of those summers. I learned to garden from my grandmother there. I know a teenager doesn’t usually enjoy gardening.

“I hated English public school but my parents were convinced it was better than the education I would receive in the United States. I loathed every minute of boarding school.” I remember he paused. I can’t remember but I think he was waiting for my approval to continue. I circled my hand encouraging him to go on.

“I was fifteen when I had a breakdown. I lived in a dorm-type room with five other boys. One winter night I couldn’t sleep. I started trembling and sweating. I had no idea what was wrong or where to go. I got out of bed and started to wander the halls. I decided to head towards a teacher’s apartment on another floor. His door was open and he was finishing a gathering of the older boys. When the last boy left he saw me and told me to come into his room. His name was Richard Hunter, but his nickname was "Bunty". His one room had a bed, sofa and fireplace and lots of paintings on the wall. I sat on the couch. I was trembling and crying. He sat with me with his soft arm around my shoulder. He asked me if I wanted something to drink...he mentioned brandy. I took it and drank it down. I remember he made a comment, ‘You aren’t supposed to drink that all at once’ He held me close to him. It was comforting. That night I slept on his couch and in the morning he woke me up and told me to head back to the dorm and get ready for school.

“After that night I fell into a deep depression. I hated school; hated life and for 6 months I wondered if I should kill myself. Bunty was always there for me. He was like a father to me. My parents didn’t visit until the term ended. I’m not sure if the school ever told them how serious my mental state was. During my last term Bunty started to lose his voice. It was on and off but it became progressively worse. He was diagnosed with cancer of the esophagus. After I left the school we kept in touch while he was in the hospital. When I was really down he always told me to "keep fighting". Now it was my turn to say the same to him. Bunty died after a couple of months. I realize how influential he was. I wish I had told him while he was alive. Bunty taught me not to take things too seriously. Even Lee in the fraternity didn’t affect me that much. Sometimes my body tells me to chill out. I take a deep breath and remember what breakdown did to me years ago. I had to do that plenty of times when Lee was in my life.

“My dad left my mom two weeks before I returned to live in the USA. He and I were not close so their divorce didn’t affect me much. He lived in Key West until he died a year or two ago. My mother threw me out because I was heavy into drugs but so was she.” His voice faded as I fell asleep with Andrew’s face against my chest. I don’t know whether he kept talking or not.

I heard rustling at the doorway and I realized I was being watched. Larry and Rob filled the doorway. Rob spoke, “We think we need to do something to remember Andrew. Larry suggested going to La Vie En Rose in Marigot.”

Lying on the bed I suggested we wait until his stepfather arrived before we decided. Larry said that he knew the waiters and felt we could get our own special area. I shivered. Rob said “What’s wrong?”

“Andrew died by food. Is it right to celebrate his life by eating?” They sheepishly did not answer my question.

During the night a FAX printed on the machine. As I am having black Jamaican coffee under the green and white umbrella Suzanne brought the FAX. Her face told me the news was not good. The FAX was of stationary of a law firm with Henley’s name among many others. The person who wrote the memo acknowledged that Mr. Henley was out of the country and proceeded to state emphatically that Mr. Henley had no children, half or whole, and to the person’s knowledge was not married.

The letter acknowledged that Mr. Henley was Andrew’s attorney. The letter went on to state that Henley has recently named John Haffner as his executor and gave Mr. Haffner all powers of attorney under California law. Under California law, the executor has all needed authority to deal with matters relating to Mr. Henley’s death. The letter concluded by asking me to send verification of my identity by FAX. After receiving the proof of identity a paralegal would send the necessary papers for signatures relating to dealing with Andrew’s estate. Henley’s office asks for FAXed acknowledgement of receipt of the original FAX.

I sat staring at the paper when Rob came outside on his way to the pool. He regularly got up earlier than any teenager I have ever heard of. He had a towel casually thrown over one shoulder as he spoke, “What’s up?” seeing the perplexed look on my face.

“It seems Andrew was not Andrew III he was Andrew the only.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just that,” I snapped. “There is no one to tell that he is dead.” Staring Rob wrapped the towel around his waist.

“I am going for a swim, want to join me?”

“OK.” I followed him down to the pool. The shadows cast by the top of the trees are receding from the pool’s glassy surface. Rob dove in as I stood holding the FAX.

“Put the paper over there,” he motioned to the table. “Swim a few laps. You will feel better.”

I didn’t feel bad just annoyed. I dropped my shorts and jumped in. After swimming a few laps I stood up near Rob. He affectionately puts his arm around my shoulder and said, “Chill, fucking unbelievable. It is hard to conceive not having a family. What do you do at Christmas? Who sends you birthday cards? What do you know about Andrew family?” His arm loosened and slid down my back over my butt.

I didn’t answer immediately. “I really know little. He stays in a spectacular suite in the Regency Hotel in Hong Kong. It has to cost five thousand a month. When we met he was doing IT work for the Hong-Kong Shanghai Bank. I don’t know what kind of work he did. I met him one night as we were on the ferry crossing from Kowloon to Hong Kong Island. Things progressed quickly.”Rob seemed to understand and didn’t ask anymore.

He told me he graduated…I’m not sure, maybe just attended University of California — Berkeley and was in my boss’ fraternity. You noticed a British accent but he is a US citizen. That’s really all I know. I invited him to come with me to Chicago for Thanksgiving, an invitation he happily accepted.”

That’s it?” Rob said standing with his hands firmly planted on his hips but with a noticeable half-hard dick. I looked at his muscular, young body, he noticed and smiled. He was coming on to me but I choose not to respond.

“Yep, that’s it. I’m sorry to say.”

“How can Andrew afford a suite like that? Did he have a lot of money?”

“I don’t have the faintest idea but I am going to find out. The FAX said that I am the executor of his estate. I don’t think I have known him long enough but that is what he did when he stopped in California. Mr. Henley who owns this place is not his stepfather but his attorney. Maybe we will find out more answers when he arrives.”

“Maybe he doesn’t have friends either.”

“He seemed plenty social whenever I was with him. I really liked him. He was good guy but complex.” We were groping for answers to questions that couldn’t be answered. Rob reached out his left hand and pulled me toward the pool ladder.

“Have you looked through his wallet?” Rob asked. I shook my head ‘No.’ I walked toward the house with Rob following me toward the bedroom. I said, “I only opened Andrew’s wallet to get the lawyer’s telephone number but I didn’t look through it.” Once in the room I picked up Andrew’s wallet which was inside a small man bag he carried when we traveled. I brought them to a table by the window and sat down next to Rob. He pulled his chair beside me and put his hand on my leg. We huddled around the items as if we were opening hidden treasure. It felt like we were snooping but it had to be done. Rob opened the handbag and pulled out an airline ticket, a comb, keys and a checkbook. He read, “His balance as of October 31 was $3,690. That will probably pay for the medical expenses here.”

“No one is authorized to sign checks.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Maybe I have the authority but the bank doesn’t know that. Here’s his drivers license: Andrew Mark Henley, III, 1212 Ventura Way, Santa Barbara, CA 96101.” I picked up the FAX to see if the address was the same as Henley’s law firm. It was. I recited to Rob the other pertinent facts: “He was born on February 18, 1964 and his license has expired.” I laid it down and Rob picked it up to look at the picture, “I want to remember him this way not the way he looked the other night.”

“There is $331 cash; two credit cards — one American Express Gold that expired in 2003 and the other a Visa card issued on the Wells Fargo Bank, a card with his blood type B+ with a warning that he has a reaction to sulfa drugs.” I looked further, “Here’s a group picture taken a few years ago showing a younger Andrew with two bikini clad girls and two bronze bodybuilders. ‘Bali 88’ is written on the back.” Finding the safety deposit box card with the number on it reminded me what Andrew said the night we were in the pool. I reached for the keys Rob laid on the table. There were five keys inside a small leather pouch. One was the key to Andrew’s Porsche; another was the safety deposit box key. In addition there was a small key that must be the key to a safe in his hotel suite and an unusual key with round holes on each side that must be the key to his hotel suite and one other a key to a gym locker on a elastic lanyard.

Rob looked at me, “We still don’t know very much.”

“Well, I do know something important is in the safety deposit box because Andrew told me to go there if anything happened to him.”

“Do you think he suspected something bad was going to happen?”

“He seemed to have a premonition. Yeah, he talked about bad things happening to him when things were going well. That’s all.”

“Whoa, that spooks me. You think he suspected something.” We returned everything to the man bag and stood up ready to return to the pool deck.

As we walked out Gertrude was carrying a tray of coffee, fresh fruit and breads. We checked our towels and laughed. There is nothing she hasn’t seen already. As she turned to walk away we thanked her and savored her wonderful soft smile

By mid-afternoon there was no word that Mr. Henley had arrived. At Larry’s urging we decided to go ahead with the dinner honoring Andrew. The dinner in Marigot was subdued and respectful. After dinner Larry, serving as the master of the occasion, gave a tribute even though he had only known him for a week. We decided to spread Andrew’s ashes in St. Maarten because he seemed so happy. As we go t out of the car at the house Rob with sad eyes asked, “What happens next?”

“We stay here,” quoting Lee’s Telex.

After the tragedy normalcy returned. Each night we watched the brilliant ice blue sparks fly across the sky like fireflies over a field of summer clover. We listened as the surf smashed against the stone pillar that balanced the swimming pool high above the ocean. The pool lights cast ominous shadows. The rustling leaves of the hibiscus and the feathery olive trees added animation. Andrew died and I was lonely, more lonely than I have ever been — alone in paradise with orders to stay.

I thought about my relationship with Andrew often. I knew almost nothing about him even though I had been intimate with him many times. What was hardest thing for me to believe that nice people like Andrew are alone. There was no one to tell that this human being had perished. I assumed Andrew fabricated the story about his parents dying. I assumed he wanted to appear normal to avoid the pity and sympathy that I am sure he did not want. His story about his boarding school time was too real. I concluded that had to be true.

The day after Andrew’s death I called home to let Beth know. I talked to my father about being executor. He told me there probably wasn’t much to it. He said that the lawyers in California would do the work. I had to tell them when to start. He told me to make sure I had a properly documented death certificate in case Andrew had life insurance. The death certificate had been provided that by the physician. I was in possession of Andrew’s ashes in a small box that I kept in our room. We planned a sail on the Sulu on Saturday to let Andrew’s ashes fly.

Mr. Henley had not appeared as expected. I finally spoke to a knowledgeable person in Henley’s office. Mrs. Tornelli who identified herself as his assistant informed me that Mr. Henley had been contacted and he reported that he was not coming to St. Maarten and would be returning to Santa Barbara around January 15. She suggested that we wait until after the holidays. She said she would either send me the necessary papers but suggested that I could come through Santa Barbara before returning to Hong Kong.

On the Saturday morning when we planned to spread Andrew out in the sea Gertrude got a call from Mr. Henley telling us he was at the airport and asked if someone could come pick them up with their luggage. I heard her tell him about Andrew’s death. She held the telephone receiver toward me. I said, “We are just leaving to sail out and give Andrew a proper sea burial.”

“Wait for me. I really liked Andrew even though I didn’t know him very well.”

“Rob and I will be down in thirty minutes.”

“There are three of us and luggage so bring the truck and the car.”

“We’ll be there.”

On the way back with Mr. Henley, a beautiful Spanish woman named Margo and her teenage son, Enrique rode with me in the orange crate car. Mr. Henley insisted that we call him Miles. Because more family would be arriving he told us we needed to find somewhere else to live for a week or so. He was nice but made it clear that we were not welcome. I said, “Your assistant, Mrs. Tornelli said you weren’t coming.”

He laughed. “I don’t tell them everything.” We dropped off their luggage and proceeded to the yacht club to join the others for the sunset sail to spread Andrew’s ashes into the stiff breeze of the blue Caribbean.

I decided to move onto the Sulu and Rob asked if he could join me. Larry and Nick decided to fly back to the states for a couple of weeks to be with family during the holidays. Miles emphasizes that I was welcome back in the house as soon as his guests were gone. He seemed puzzled by the circumstances surrounding Andrew’s death. He said he would officially inquire to see if anything else has turned up.

That night I sat by the pool after midnight when the house was totally quiet. I was a million miles away when a voice startled me: “John.” I jumped, turned toward the intruding voice and scrambled to cover my naked body. Miles said, “Feeling the effects of the champagne we drank celebrating Andrew’s life?”

“No, I couldn’t sleep? I was thinking about Andrew. The night before he died we sat here. He told me a little about himself.”

“Were you two lovers? Excuse me but I’m curious.”

“We were not. Truthfully, we had great sex quite a few times. I thought in time we might become closer. I am sorry I didn’t hear you coming. I would have been more discrete.”

“No problem.” The moonlight reflected on his smile. “Want to join me for a swim? I love swimming at night when it is quiet.” He flipped on the pool lights. The pool became a perfectly carved diamond with all its facets sparkling at the same moment. As he disrobed I could see the healthy body of a man in his late 50’s early 60’s as the wind whipped his full head of white hair. He was a little plump but well portioned. His white hair became more messed up as he pulled his shirt over his head. He slipped into the warm water. I dove over his head and let the water envelope my body.

He swam toward me. He started, “It’s my turn to ask a few questions and give you a few more answers. If you weren’t partners why would he make you his executor? Go back. Tell me the whole story.” I began with Hong Kong and continued for twenty minutes before he excused himself to pee over the rail into the ocean. When he returned he pulled a chair up close to the edge of the pool and invited me to join him. I continued the story with him interrupting me occasionally probing for more details. He accepted the conclusion of Inspector Le Faux and his team but said he would speak to them personally in the next few days.

There was a lull. I said, “Mr. Henley, are you related to Andrew.” The quick turn of his head and the movement of his hand to straighten his glasses indicated that my question caught him off guard. He didn’t speak for an extended moment.

“Related, yes,” he started. “But not a relative. Andrew’s mother was my second wife. We were only married for three years. It was a bad decision on both of our parts. She is dead you know.”

“So it is true that his mother and father are dead.”

“His mother died shortly after he arrived in the US when he was attending the the La Jolla High School. We were already divorced. He and his mother were not close. She told me Andrew was adopted when his parents lived in England. Something happened between Andrew and his mother. She told him never to come back. I didn’t see or hear from him again until she was dead. She ran her car into a tree while she was high on some drugs. I don’t know what happened to his father.

“Shortly after her funeral he came to me and asked me to be his lawyer because he had to do some things related to his mother. He changed his name to Henley but don’t ask me his name before because I can’t remember. I never knew his mother by the name he was using. I did know he was an only child. There may be relatives back in England but I consider the book closed on the family.”

My head told me he was right but my gut wanted to believe otherwise. I needed to find a bathroom and excused myself. He flipped off the pool lights and followed me toward the house. He stopped and grabbed a couple of light robes and tossed one to me. He turned toward me with a puzzled look and asked, “If you guys weren’t partners how well did you know Andrew?”

“We enjoyed the same things. We ate dinner together a couple of times a week. I work for a man named Lee Kwan that Andrew had some bad experiences with at Berkeley. He told me about the unusual behavior of Mr. Kwan but I have never seen anything like what Andrew described. Kwan is a successful Chinese businessman. The Sulu is owned by Kwan. I am waiting to sail somewhere when I receive word from Mr. Kwan.” That concluded our conversation. We quickly shook hands and I went into the bathroom.

Mr. Henley’s extended family arrived the next day. Rob and I dropped Nick and Larry off at the airport before moving our stuff onto the Sulu which is tied up in the yacht club. It was six days before Christmas and the yacht club was chaotic. We decided to moor the Sulu out in Simpson Bay. We filled water tanks and made sure the holding tanks were empty. It might be a week before we could easily get back in. Before we left the yacht club I called Chicago to find out what the family’s plans were for the holidays. Mother told me they were coming to Naples but not until the 1st to be with my grandparents. My brother, his wife and children were arriving right after Christmas and Beth was joining them. After the conversation I considered flying to Florida and staying a couple of days.

The first few days on the Sulu Roddy captained a sail to St. Bart with a family of four — mother, father and two teenage daughters. Both girls strutted around in tiny bikinis trying to get Rob’s attention. His white boxers hung low revealing his wonderful butt. He put on a real performance for the girls but pretended not to notice them.

The first night of the charter we stopped in Marigot. Muriel fixed an outstanding dinner on two little burners. Rob and I huddled together on the foredeck. Morning light brought the father on deck naked ready for a swim. We jumped in with him. He assured us that his wife and the girls didn’t mind. We did not see anyone until we were wrapped in our towels

The second night we anchored in Orient Bay. Two trips in the dingy took us to a fine French restaurant — Le Perroquet. We ate and drank and didn’t notice that it had begun to rain. Rob took the family back to the boat and returned for Roddy, Muriel and me. By the time we were all on the Sulu our clothes are soaked. The warm air dried our bodies but not the clothes. Early the next morning we strung lines to dry our clothes. Lunch was onshore at the Orient Bay Resort but the mother and the girls wore batik wraps. The men kept pants on out of deference to the girls. After lunch we sailed for St. Barts for an overnight before returning to St. Maarten. After we dropped the family, Roddy and Muriel off we moored the Sulu on Christmas Eve. Rob and I jumped in the bay to cool off. For our Christmas Eve meal we decided to cook onboard and enjoy a quiet Christmas Day. I said to Rob, “How does it feel to you to away from your family”

“OK, but different. I’m fine. What about you?”

“Remember its not the first time for me. I’m fine.”

We floated around quietly until Rob said, “John, you are one handsome dude.”

Thinking he was kidding I said, “Thanks, stud.”

“No really.” He jumped on top of me pushing my head underwater.”

When I reached the surface I sputtered, “Well, you’re handsome yourself. You’re muscled where you should be and trim where you should be. Those young girls were dying to have you pay attention to them.” He smiled.

“I get paid to be sexy. But they were so immature — giggly little girls.”

“Soon to be attractive young women ready for sex.”

“No interest. I would rather have sex with you.”

“You’re nineteen and I’m thirty. If you are interested in guys shouldn’t they be your own age?”

“Guys my age are only interested in pussy and beer. They act so stupid. Have you ever seen those Boys Gone Wild videos? They are so juvenile. They get drunk on spring break and make fools of themselves. That is why I wanted to crew. I wanted to be with adults.”

“I am flattered that you would want to be with me. But I am almost a virgin. Andrew is the only person I ever had sex with, man or woman”

“Really! Well, fuck. I fooled around with a couple of guys on the track team at school. I was a flirt in boarding school. I could care less if someone saw me naked because I felt I had something to show off. Most guys, even the gay ones, didn’t know how to respond to my cockiness.”

“I guess not. Let’s get out and have a beer. Maybe we can get wild,” I said laughing. As I pulled myself up the ladder I noticed my dick sticking straight out. Rob was watching and there was no way to be modest. Without speaking he followed closely up the ladder giving my butt a gentle slap. I retrieved two Heinekens from the cooler. My dick had softened but not Rob’s large endowment. “I see why you weren’t ashamed. You have something to show off.”

“Yep, there is enough dick. Are you a top or a bottom?” he said directly.

“Honestly, I tried it both ways with Andrew. I like it both ways. What about you?”

“I have only been the top even though I would like to try it the other way. Can I get you another beer?

As Rob stepped in front of me I knew this attractive young man really wanted to get it on with me. I felt insecure and inadequate in comparison to his self-assurance. I had so much to learn but perhaps I could teach, too. He came back on deck, sat down beside me and put his arm around my waist. I my cock twitched. He bent down and took my dick in his mouth. Slowly he began to move up and down. I could see fireworks exploding very soon. He quickened his pace and I put my hand on his head. “Slow down, I want this to last.” He lifted his head and moved toward my lips. We kissed for a long time.

He took my hand and led me below deck. The hatches are all open and a cooling breeze blew over the forward bunk. I pulled him on top of me. His smooth chest against my hairy one is a real turn on. He continuously ran his fingers through my hair as I slowly moved my hand up and down his throbbing dick. “I want you to come inside me now. I am afraid I will lose my nerve if you don’t do it now.”

“I’ve got to get you ready.” I reached for the lube and put the slippery liquid on my right index finger. I pushed gently against his asshole. “Push out like you are taking a crap.” He tried but winched as I slid inside. “I will stop anytime you want me to.” I moved my finger around and around. “Do you want a condom or not? I will go either way.”

“Bareback, I heard is better even though it is dangerous.”

“With me you don’t have to worry. Andrew and I were tested and I know his results and mine were negative.” I completely lubed my dick and had Rob lie on his back. I slowly and carefully pushed into his asshole. When I popped in he cried out. I slowed down to let him adjust. When he is relaxed I moved in further. He had his arms and legs firmly around my neck and butt. I was losing and knew I only have only a few more thrusts. I whispered, “I can’t hold on much longer.”

He smiled, “Let her fly.” I thrust in and out four more times before the cum started shooting inside him. Untouched his dick erupted in three giant volleys. He cried, “Oh, my God, oh my God.” He continued pumping my sensitive dick. I tried to stop him but he was uncontrollable.

“Stop, you are killing me. Oh, my God, pain, pain. Stop, you…” my voice trailed out as I calmed down. He was smiling from ear to ear. I grabbed his dick which was still oozing and proceeded to give him some of his own treatment. He was trapped under me and there is little he could do but grit his teeth and moan. “Enough, uncle, uncle, jesuzz...”

“OK, uncle, uncle…” I laughed continuing the torture.

For the next three days we have uninterrupted, adventuresome sex. We discussed our feelings and our sensations. We learned together and it was wonderful. Rob was completely comfortable being top or bottom. He seemed to have no guilt having sex with a man. He said several times he was going to have to decide soon whether he was ready to be gay. For my part I was sure that being a gay man was the right thing for me.

I preferred being the bottom but making love with Rob was an amazing experience every time. I loved every moment I spent with Rob. Sometime on the second day Roddy radioed that he needed the Sulu for a charter. I decided to fly to Florida to see my grandparents and any other family members who were still there. When I told Rob he decided he had enough money to fly to Miami. We decided that we would drive over to Naples. He would drop me off and drive up to Captiva Island to be with his grandfather. He considered going home to Philadelphia but decided since he missed Christmas he would visit Captiva. We would stay a couple of days and then fly back together. I would let Mr. Henley and Gertrude know we would be back in a week if any communication came from Lee.

On the third day the yacht club radioed that they needed to outfit the Sulu. We reluctantly dressed and motored in. The harbor was congested so we rafted up to another sail boat with Nassau painted on her stern. Two totally tanned men in throngs secured us and became friendly with Rob who is showing no tan line below is low hung surfers. I watched as they whispered to one another as they suggestively rubbed their barely covered cocks. I was happy when the harbor master motioned us in. My irritation must have been showing because Rob said, “You know I’m a flirt. It’s me. Don’t look so jealous. It does not become you.”

“Sorry. Was it that obvious?”

“Yes. I’ll take the wheel and you get up front with the rope.” I did as I was told.

Because the harbor was so crowded we decided to return to our mooring expecting Robby would radio when he was ready. By early evening Rob and I were alone sitting under the canopy of the Sulu drinking a beer and making final plans for flying. Floating around with our Heinekens in hand Rob described his Florida trip a couple of years before. “I hope you can meet my grandfather. He’s a real cool guy. He and my grandmother invited my family, cousins and relatives to Captiva Island to revisit his boyhood haunt — sort of a family reunion. Gramma died shortly after. Anyway his family owned a house on Captiva that his father and brother built in the 1930’s. They sold the house in the late 50’s because my grandmother had a house on the Maine. That’s where we always went for our summer vacations.”

He smiled, “I lost my virginity on that trip, thank God.”

“Remember you told me.”

“That wasn’t the best part. My grandfather took us to an offshore island for a picnic with some cousins, friends and some black kids whose parents owned the house that Grandpa and his brother built. One of the black kids, Jeremy, said to my grandfather ‘Didn’t you teach my Gramps to swim with the dolphins’. My grandfather acknowledged that he had and we began to watch to see if we could see any dolphins.

We saw them offshore earlier in the week but they never came close to shore. Grandfather insisted that the only way to get them to come close was to swim naked. We were away from people so we reluctantly stripped off layers of boxers and shorts and waded into the surf. That was the first time I ever had my pants off in public. I was smaller then so I was really self-conscious. I know that is hard to believe now.” We both laughed. “Grandpa told us that naked was the only way the dolphins would really play with us. I was scared to death.

“We were splashing and loud at the beginning. He told us to swim out about twenty yards and tread water. Gramps went with us. Less than five minutes later I was bumped and then something brushed against my stomach. My hand moved just as the dorsal fin cut the surface of the water. I was quiet and suddenly a big dolphin scooted right by me. I reached out to touch him. Gramps said, ‘Wait a few moments.’ A big gray mammal came up and I grabbed for his fin and got pulled fifty yards. I was scared shitless. My heart was pounding like a jackhammer but I didn’t let go until he dove. Three dolphins pulled and pushed us along for more than an hour. It was a blast.”

“That sounds like great fun.”

“We can go there because my grandfather bought a condo at South Seas Plantation after my grandmother died. I’m going to stay with him. You have to meet him before we come back. He is so cool.” I swam away from the Sulu about fifty yards and didn’t immediately respond to Rob’s invitation. I thought one moment he is a mature young man having exceptional experiences and the next minute he seems like a curious, little boy still growing up. He waved from the deck as I swam back.

We flew out together the next evening. The sun’s gold touched the cottony clouds on the western horizon when Rob and I were dropped off at the airport. Both of us fell asleep as soon as the plane took off.

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