long did she stay after you lost your job?" Margi asked sympathetically.
"Longer than I ever expected. Four and a half days. Just goes to show you how tolerant she'd gotten over the years."
He'd lost his job? His wife had run off with another man? His house had burned down? He'd broken his arm? Geesch, this guy made my life look like an enchanted fairy tale. "You've had a healthy run of bad luck," I said, trying to lighten the mood.
He nodded. "But I've fully recovered from my broken leg. I don't even limp anymore."
I scanned the ceiling in search of hidden surveillance devices. We were on Candid Camera, right? But I had to ask. "When did you break your leg?"
"Just before I lost my job. Would you believe I blew a tire and accidentally rammed the Oscar Mayer Weinermobile on its cross-country trip to promote meatless hot dogs? My Chevy ended up in the scrap pile. The weiner never got a scratch. The police determined the bun gave it extra protection."
Margi clucked out a warning. "Broken bones are a very bad sign. I'd recommend a bone density test to check for osteoporosis. How's your daily milk consumption?"
The wine steward appeared at that moment to take our drink orders, followed by Darko, who scribbled down our main course orders before collecting our menus and merging back into the stream of foot traffic headed for the kitchen. How everyone managed to move so quickly and not collide with each other was beyond me.
"I approve of your choice of the New England clam chowder," Margi said, nodding to Jonathan. "Calcium helps build strong bones."
"It's the only thing on the menu I could eat one-handed." He sighed with disgust. "I was so stupid!"
"You're being too hard on yourself," Margi consoled. "Think about it. The king crab legs would have been impossible."
"No! I was stupid about my first trip to the islands last year, when I pocketed a rock from the volcano fields on the big island. Worst mistake of my life. They don't post signs; they don't warn you in the tourist brochures. But when your luck starts going south and you try to figure out why, you discover some dumb myth about the volcano goddess Pele making your life a living hell if you steal any of her precious lava rock. Volcano goddess. Right. Who believes stuff like that? I'm a techie. Techies don't believe in primitive superstitions; we're too firmly grounded in virtual reality. But I took a rock the size of a silver dollar and I've been paying for it ever since, so the old girl made a believer out of me."
"Which island is the big island?" asked Margi.
"Hawaii!" Nils, Gjurd, and Ansgar shouted, like game show contestants in lightning-round mode. I suspected World Navigators probably had global atlases tattooed onto their chests as part of some initiation rite.
"I'm not on this cruise to enjoy myself," Jonathan continued. "I'm here for only one reason: to dump that cussed rock back where it came from."
"You couldn't simply mail it?" I asked. "It would have been cheaper."
"Entrust it to the Postal Service? Are you crazy? Even if I sent it registered mail, return receipt requested, there's no guarantee it wouldn't end up in a dead letter office someplace. And then I'd be doomed for the rest of my life."
Which could be dramatically brief if his streak of bad luck continued at its present rate.
"I didn't even dare take a plane to the islands. I hopped a freighter out of L.A. to Honolulu. I didn't want to risk any kind of air disaster."
Nils raised a questioning finger. "When you return the rock to its rightful home, your luck will then be restored, yah?"
"According to the myth, everything should get back to normal...ifI can manage to survive that long. I'm just thankful there aren't any icebergs in the vicinity."
Speaking on behalf of the other nineteen hundred and ninety-nine passengers aboard the Aloha Princess, I was thankful for that, too.
"Icebergs, yah," said Nils, looking wistful. "Many years ago, my ancestors battled icebergs."
Margi sucked in her breath. "Oh, my goodness. Was your family on the Titanic? That's my very favorite movie ever. I saw it sixty-three times. Did your family survive?" She flattened her palm against her chest as if to quell palpitations. "Did they ever mention Rose and Jack?"
"My ancestors were Norsemen. First to cross the North Atlantic in open boats. First to navigate iceberg-infested seas. First to discover the continent of North America."
Margi snorted amusement.