Free Captains Outrageous by Joe R. Lansdale

stuff, you had to wonder if they actually thought anyone really believed this.
    They had some pretty neat chess sets carved out of obsidian, and I looked at those but didn’t buy. I didn’t need it and didn’t want to carry it. Leonard bought a sombrero. It had a big wide band that read: MEXICO . He insisted on wearing it, even on the bus. He looked like an idiot.
    Tulum was neat. It was built by the Mayans on a cliff overlooking the Caribbean. It was a fortress city, and you could certainly see how it served its purpose. A mountain goat would have needed grappling equipment just to start up the side of the cliff next to the sea. Before time took its toll, the city must have been quite snug with this barrier at its back and the great buildings of solid stones all around to protect it.
    There was a temple called El Castillo that had two columns depicting serpents, and a real serpent, a large lizard that looked as if he might do close-ups for dinosaur movies, was crouched on the stone floor next to one of the columns. He looked at us in that slow lizard way, seemed to say, Hey Mack, you’re invading my home.
    Or maybe, like us, he was just a tourist and thought we were one of the sights.
    We spent a couple hours there looking at the ruins, thinking about how the people there must have lived, then we took the bus back.
    We still had a couple hours till four-thirty, so we went walking, looking at the sights, such as they were. Leonard needed to go to the local post office to buy a card and stamp so he could mail a little note to John. It was a real chore just getting one of the two workers there, a man and a woman, to come to the desk. They had a private conversation going and appeared in no hurry to stop it. They turned and looked at us like we were intruding, and went on with their conversation.
    “How do you say, Hey dickhead, in Spanish?” Leonard asked me.
    Finally the guy came over. Leonard made a few gestures, indicating what he wanted. The worker spoke to him in English, grinning as he did it. He then explained how to say dickhead in Spanish.
    Leonard paid him, got pesos in change.
    The guy said, “Someone give you the hat?”
    “Bought it.”
    “With your own money, señor?”
    Leonard didn’t respond to that. He went over and wrote a short note to John using a windowsill as a desk. He gave it to the guy behind the desk and the guy dropped it in an out box and smiled at Leonard’s hat some more. We left.
    “It’s a good hat,” Leonard said.
    “For what?”
    “Keeping the sun off.”
    “It’s more like an eclipse, Leonard. It looks like something goes on a stick over a table by poolside.”
    “You wanted one.”
    “Did not.”
    “Did too.”
    “I wouldn’t be caught dead in something like that.”
    “It’s just that I’ve got the balls to do what I want and you don’t, that’s what’s got you irritated.”
    “I’m not irritated.”
    “Are.”
    “Are not.”
    It was just one of our usual goofed-up days. We might as well have been home in the States. We were unpopular and pissed off wherever we went.
    About four we went down to the dock to catch the tender back to the ship. The tender was there with our original pilot standing on the deck, helping people on board, but out in the bay, no ship. Least not our ship.
    We talked to the pilot. Our Spanish sucked. His English was good. He told us the Sea Pleasure had left at three-thirty. For a moment I thought we hadn’t changed our watches, crossed a zone or something, had lost an hour. But we had the right time.
    Leonard said to the pilot, “You’re sure?”
    The guy, who was short and gold-toothed, said, “You see the ship you want, señor?”
    Leonard took a theatrical look out at the water.
    “Nope.”
    The pilot shrugged.
    “Could it have sunk?” Leonard asked.
    “Funny, you are, señor. I got to take people out to the real cruise ship now. And whatever you pay for that hat, it is too much.”
    We walked back up the dock,