113.
     The next morning the crew was out of commission. Conrad, the dogs and I were recuperating with drinks on deck. We were cruising alongside a verdant coastline fringed with low-lying islands. The weather was steamy, and a haze dimmed the sunlight. I told my shipmates of my promenade on deck earlier that morning.

   Conrad smiled knowingly. “When threats don’t work, they will coax you. They will flatter you and they will be twice your enemy when you reject them.”
   “Hate wears an ugly smile.”, offered Nanette.
   Conrad put a hand on my shoulder and looked past me with a painful expression on his face. “You’ve got a hell of a job ahead of you, kid. You could be ignored into oblivion. You could be snuffed out. People might roll their eyes: ‘I know he’s a friend of yours but come on.’ Make no mistake about it, Oliver, a very large number of your fellow countrymen would just as soon see anyone who speaks the truth dead.”
   “We have company!”, barked Pat, pointing to a flotilla of approaching sail boats.
   “We should alert the crew!”, I warned.
   Conrad snorted. “Are you kidding? There’s nothing but a lanyard strapped to the wheel steering this ship.”
   Oh shit, I thought. Not again. “We should be armed!”
    Conrad dropped his drink. “Let’s see what we can find below!”
    Pat backed away from the railing with his tail between his legs. “It’s too late! They have
boarding ladders!”
   “Prepare yourself! Show confidence!”, ordered Conrad. 
   “Oh my God!”, gasped Nanette. “Catamites!”