by TheTimeTrust
The Caribbean island nation of La Perdita is one of many islands in the West Indies in the same chain as such other isles as Barbados, Grenada, Martinique, St. Lucia, Dominica, Anguilla, and many others. It is not a large island, nor is it the smallest one, but it is adequate for its purposes.
It was founded and named after the daughter of King Leontes of Sicily by a group of Sicilians and Spaniards during the Colonial period of the 1600s. Although there was at first some conflict between the native Carib Indians and the European settlers, the displacement of the native population was due to the lack of resistance to the diseases brought by the newcomers, and only a handful of Carib Indians still survive on the island. The main city on the island, Puerta Mibela, was similar to Jamaica's Port Royal in that it was basically a pirate town in the late 17th and 18th centuries, bringing to it a mix of British pirates and slaves from Africa. The island gained its independence from Italy in the late 19th century in a peaceful revolution after slavery was abolished. It also served as a smuggling port used by La Cosa Nostra, the Sicilian Mafia, during the early decades of the 20th century, and some whisper that the Mafia still maintains a presence on the island.
La Perdita's main economy since the beginning of the 20th century has been tourism. Thousands of tourists from Europe, Asia, and the Americas visit the small island nation every year, and thus at any time of the year its already varied ethnic makeup is made richer. The island is a relatively wealthy one, and for this reason and the others given, it has a rich cultural mix going back centuries.
The island itself is lush and tropical, and relatively unspoiled, like many other volcanic islands in the Caribbean. Its one volcano exists on the opposite side of the island from Puerta Mibela and is dormant; this is where the small population of Carib Indians mostly reside. The rest of the population mainly resides along the coasts in several small villages and resorts, as Puerta Mibela is the island's only city. The city has one small airport that is sustainable enough for the regular influx of tourists that move through it every year.
--from The Lonely World's Caribbean Islands Guidebook
La Perdita Airport:
"I tell ya, Pedro, I just can't get a break," said a somewhat overweight and slightly balding, mustached black man wearing a Hawaiian shirt, shorts, and straw hat, whose accent was obviously American. He spoke to the bartender as he looked out over the beach at all the nubile young women frolicking around in bikinis. The bar he sat at stood between the airport and the city's main beach. "I mean, here I am, you understand, at one of the WORLD'S GREATEST RESORTS, and I'm sitting here at the bar talking to you."
"Mmm," the bartender replied, barely listening.
"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to offend. You understand, I mean, I could be out there," he gestured at the beach, "with three women hanging off each of my arms right now, if only that deal with the Corleone brothers hadn't gone sour. Aye-yi-yi! Next time I'm going to think twice before getting involved with the Mob. You get me, pal? I mean -- crick -- one false move, and you're dead meat! Ha ha ha! I should be grateful that I survived that at all."
"Yeah?" the bartender said absentmindedly as he continued cleaning some glasses and putting them back in place.
"I mean, I should be grateful, but I'm not. And do you know why?" The man didn't wait long enough for a reply this time. "It's because I'm a dreamer, Pedro. I'm a big dreamer, in more ways than one, as you can plainly tell." He snickered as he looked down at his ample belly. "But a dreamer nonetheless. And because I'm a dreamer, I am constantly in search of ways to fulfill my dreams. Oh, sure, I've followed my dreams and been successful at it many times over the years, although my three ex-wives have done a good job of cleaning out the ol' bank account, but that's neither here nor there. ANYways, as I was sayin', I've followed my dreams and have HAD those dreams come true in the past. But I discovered a certain thing. Wanna know what I discovered, Pedro?"
"My name's Jorge."
"I discovered that each time I accomplished one of my goals, it just wasn't enough! Well, if that don't beat all! I mean, we all grow up thinking if we can only get to that certain age, if we can only get a certain amount of money, if we can only get that certain girl, that we'll be happy and content to leave it at that. But that ain't the way it works at all! And you wanna know why? You wanna know why, Pedro?"
"Jorge."
"It's because mankind was both blessed and cursed with an unceasing desire for something better than he's already got! This was made painfully clear to me as I reached each of my goals and found that, like that Irish band once sang, I still haven't found what I'm lookin' for! Hee-haw! Yeah, I know, I know, it sounds crazy, but it's true! I guess that's why I've never been able to settle down with any one woman at any one place for too long. Nope, I'm a rolling stone, and wherever I lay my hat is my home. All I can hope for is for that next sweet deal to walk right in that door, and when it does, Pedro, when it does, I'm gonna be ready for it!"
The door swung open from the airport side, and nine tired-looking newcomers -- eight men and one woman -- strolled in and sat themselves down around two tables. A short, homely looking man broke away from the group and walked up to the bar.
"'Ere, me old son," he said in a brogue that sounded vaguely Scottish or Irish but was neither, "me friends and I likes ta have a bit of fish and swig ta fill our puddocks." He took a big wad of bills from his coat pocket and casually flipped through several hundreds until he reached the twenties, then he pulled out three and placed them on the counter.
"I'll have some menus sent over right away, sir."
"Thanks, b'y."
"Excuse me, sir," the man at the bar said as he watched this transaction of currency and noticed the odd assortment of characters sitting at the table the little man was with, "but I couldn't help hearing your accent. Are you by any chance a Newfoundlander?"
"Aye, that I am," the little man answered with a toothy grin. "M'name's Pete. Some people call me 'the Chimp,' whatchamafore."
"I can't imagine why, my good man!" the man answered. "My name's Kit Piper. My card," he said, pulling out an impressive-looking business card and placing it into the former street bum's gnarly hand.
"'Kit Piper, Esquire,'" Pete read aloud, "'Entrepreneurial Business Agent, Pay the Piper Incorporated.' Well, that's a right nice card ya have there, Mr. Piper."
"Please, call me Kit! Pete, I'm going to have to be straight with you now," Kit said, suddenly looking serious as he locked onto Pete's eyes. "As soon as I saw you and your companions walk through that door, I knew as certainly as when Moses saw the burning bush that Fate had walked right on in with you."
"Whu--?"
"And by Fate, Pete, I mean that I can see that you are quite a remarkable specimen. Oh, some may say you're not much to look at, but I say it is only a FOOL that says such a thing, and I'll fight to the death anyone who says such a thing, just bring them on, I'm ready for 'em!"
"Eh?"
"I shouldn't get ahead of myself, though, Pete. I'm known for doing that, so you'll have to bear with me here. Pete, I'd like to ask you a question. Mind if I ask you a question? Good. Pete, how would you like to take that wad of bills you have in your pocket and triple it? Quadruple it, even?"
"Well, I--"
"I know what you're going to say, Pete, I can see it in your eyes, you're clearly a noble soul. The little people. How is your having more money than you know what to do with going to help all the little people of the world? And it's a very good question, a very good question, indeed. Well, I can tell you that for each and every dollar that you double, a dollar will go to help the little people, all across the world."
"Ehh, act'ally..."
"Say no more, Pete, say no more. Next you'll be asking me how all this is going to help your friends over there. What's their role in all of this? Well, between you and me, Pete, you weren't the only one who caught my eye as you fellas walked in here, no sir. I can see by the tired expressions on those very unique faces of all'a you and yours that you're tired of the same old sales pitch that goes nowhere, aren't you? Of course you are. I am too! Well, I swear on my mother's grave that I shall never tell a lie to you, Pete. I swear it. That goes for your friends, too. Why do I say this right now? Because I believe that trust is the most important thing in this world. Without trust, you've got nothing. NOTHING!"
"Ehh, right, but..."
"Of course I'm right, Pete, I always try to be right, even when I'm wrong. Just a joke there, son, don't take it seriously. Pete, I'm going to say something to you now, something that may even be shocking, a proposal of sorts. You and your friends look to be in need of a guide around this fair isle, and I'd like to be that guide. Now, I know that you don't know me, and I don't know you, but if there's still any trust left in this world, and by God I pray there is, where a handshake still counts as a handshake, I believe we can trust each other. And do you know why? It's because already by talking to you I can see that we have a great deal in common. Yes, Pete, I can see that you are an upstanding man whose heart bleeds, yes, BLEEDS, for your fellow man. You'd do ANYTHING to help the less fortunate in need of what you have to offer, and you have plenty to offer, don't let anyone tell you different. And I already feel that there's a connection between you and me, something that goes beyond words, beyond a mere business partnership, and something that hovers very near friendship."
The Chimp, now knowing better, does not try to say anything.
"Pete, I'm going to let you join your friends in a minute, but not before I make this guarantee: I will never cheat you, my friend. You can count on that. My word is my bond. May my ancestors come back to slay me from the grave if ever I betray your trust. But I am going to ask you to take a chance, a leap of faith, if you will. If you feel this vibe, this connection between the two of us like I do, and I can see in your eyes that you do, then I'd ask you to make that leap. Oh, it's not a leap into darkness, but a leap into a sure thing, because it's the risk-takers, yes, the RISK-takers in this world who get ahead, Pete. I'm sure some slobs get their money through the lottery or gambling, but not you, Pete, you're a man of class and a man who worked hard for his money."
Pete grinned sheepishly and continued to say nothing.
"Well, I want to make sure you hold onto that money, and for that reason I ask you to guard that money carefully! There are a lot of con artists in La Perdita, I'm sorry to say, who would love to separate you from that wad of cash in your pocket, and it's important that you keep your eyes and ears out for those predators. Be as gentle as a dove but as crafty as a serpent, as my grandpa used to tell me when I sat on his knee as a child. Now, Pete, I'm going to take a chance on you, and I hope you'll take a chance on me. I'd like to talk things over with you in detail later, but if you'll have me, and you'd be crazy not to, I'd like you to sign this business agreement, merely a formality, of course, and we can sort out the details later. Here's a pen."
Pete looked stunned, but he took the pen that Kit pushed in his hand, and he quickly signed the document he placed in front of him.
"You've made a wise decision, Pete, my friend, and I could see all along that you would, for as I said, we have a connection, you and me, and nothing in the world can break that. We're like brothers, you and I. Someone picks on you, they'll have to answer to me, and don't be too proud to be calling on your ol' brother Kit, now. I'll bail you out. Pete, I'm going to leave you with my card, and I'm going to be by my telephone early tomorrow morning at eight o'clock A.M. awaiting your call. We have much to discuss, my friend Pete, and I don't want to hold up you or your friends any longer from enjoying the rest of the day. You look tired, and I'm a firm believer in keeping business during business hours and playtime during playtime hours. Tomorrow morning, then. It's been a pleasure meeting you, Pete, and I look forward to going into business with both you and your companions. It's a beautiful day! Enjoy the sunshine! Later, buddy!"
"Yuh," Pete said, waving back at Kit as the portly man walked out the door, contract in hand. He stood there dazed for a moment as he tried to work it out in his mind, but gave up trying and went over to the tables where his friends were sitting.
"What was all that about, Pete?" Sam Dawson asked him as he sat down.
"Ehh... I dinna rightly know."
"You shook hands with the guy," said Marv Velo. "Must've been about something."
"Well... I think we's gone inta business with 'e."
Everyone stopped eating and stared at Pete. Finally someone broke the silence.
"What?" asked Sonja Ljzavet, glaring at the little man.
"What do you mean we've gone into business, Pete?" asked Lance Lorenzo.
"Well, I, ehh... we shooks hands, an'... an' we makes plans fer tomorra morn, an'... an' he's gonna be our guide on this isle... an' he's gonna double me money an' alla rest'a yers, also..."
"What are you saying, Pete?" Velo asked very seriously. "You didn't... SIGN anything, did you? Never sign anything! God!" he said, throwing his hands in the air in uncharacteristic frustration.
"Oh yeah... that, too," said Pete. "I signs 'is contract. Plumb forgot. Shite."
"Oh, bloody hell," said Mick Harrison, putting his head in his hands. "Whose bright idea was it to let 'the Chimp' handle the money?"
Shirley Francis patted her boyfriend on his back, saying, "It's okay. It's gonna be okay."
"Well, as I remember it, Mick, it was Pete's money in the first place," said Tobias Christopher.
"Don't blame Pete, guys, he's not used to business," said Sam. "And all I want to do right now is finish my food, look up my relatives and find the place where we're going to be living."
"This does not bode well," growled Naecken.
"Nonsense," spoke up Danny Hearn. "All of you seem to forget one thing about Pete -- he's the luckiest man in the world. If anything, this is probably just the thing we need to get this little club of ours finally organized. Maybe this... what's his name, Pete?"
"Ehh... Kit. Kit Piper."
"Maybe this Kit Piper fellow is a straightforward, honest businessman," added Danny. "Judging from what I've seen of Pete's luck, it was probably the best move for all of us. I say don't knock a gift-droid in the mouth, or you might wind up with a missing finger."
"Hm. Maybe..."
"SHUT UP AND EAT!" complained an amused Sam.
And so, after their dinner, the nine strangers to La Perdita began to follow Sam to an apartment building owned by his family. He had grown up on the island even though he was born a U.S. citizen.
They were all tired and said nothing to each other as they walked to the part of town nearest the airport. Mick's girlfriend Shirley -- carrying a plastic pet crate containing Li'l Jo, the team's cat -- met them at the grocery store Sam had told her about when they had left the airport. They were now ten, although Shirley was a civilian.
Most of them had never seen the beautiful tropical island that is La Perdita or its gorgeous capital city, Puerta Mibela, but they were almost all too tired to do anything more than glance around. Finally they hailed some taxicabs, and Sam's cab led the way.