The good news was I was a happy drunk who wanted to dance. I had a blast at the party.
We’d been there for a couple of hours when Kitty found a microphone to address everyone.
“Since young David is leaving us, I thought it was a good excuse for a party.”
“Like we need an excuse!” someone called out.
“I agree, but this one was better than most. Since David is done with his part, Roger thought we should show a ‘best of’ compilation of his scenes,” Kitty said.
Someone dimmed the lights as a big screen dropped. The video began with my scene on the first day and showed me doing the same two lines over and over again. They only showed seven of the ninety-plus takes, but the funny part was that it was precisely the same each time. Roger must have had someone look through all of them to find the duplicates.
Of course, they shared me jumping off the mast and into the bay. They also showed the crocodiles chasing me out of the swamp, and then they’d caught the one leaping out of the water to grab Cassidy’s hat. I was shown when I didn’t realize the camera was running, making goofy faces at the crew to make them laugh.
Then it got serious and showed some of the scenes that would make the movie. Roger had edited together the different shots. I was never comfortable watching myself on screen, but even my critical eye was happy with what was presented.
When the lights came back up, everyone had smiles on their faces. I had a couple more mojitos, and it was time to go to bed. I would sleep well tonight.
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Chapter 8 – Too Close to Home Sunday June 12
At around two in the morning, my phone made a terrible racket. My alcohol-addled brain took a moment to realize that someone had hit their panic button. I sat up and was groggily trying to find it when the alarm sounded again. That woke me up in a hurry.
I found my phone and picked it up. The app asked if I was okay, and I clicked yes. I saw my dad had done the same, which gave me some relief. I looked to see who had set the alarm off; it was Trip and his bodyguard, Andy. There were two messages that chilled me to the bone.
‘
I threw on a pair of shorts, grabbed my key, and ran to Fritz’s room. Paul answered the door, and Fritz was inside on the phone. It sounded like he was talking to Rita.
“I don’t know what’s happened. The app gave me their location, and I used it to call the Orlando police. They assured me they’re aware of the situation and have dispatched people to the scene.”
He listened and then continued.
“I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything,” Fritz said and then hung up.
Paul had his laptop open.
“Andy’s log shows they planned to go to dinner and then to a nightclub. They were with Craig Wild and Kent Crain, Craig’s manager,” Paul said.
There was a knock on the door, so I got it and found Cassidy.
“Do you know what’s going on?” she asked me.
“It looks like Halle’s brother has been shot at a nightclub in Orlando,” I said.
“Oh, my God! Is he going to be okay?” she asked.
“We don’t know. We can’t get ahold of him or his bodyguard. It sounds like several people were shot.”
“Crap! Look at this,” Paul said.
He had the Facebook page for the nightclub up.
‘
Pulse was the name of the nightclub.
Unfortunately, Cuba didn’t have a 24/7 news channel, so we were in the dark about what was going on. That didn’t mean everyone at home didn’t have news. My phone started to ring. I excused myself and returned to my room. Fritz promised to send Cassidy to come to get me if he found anything out.
An initial report was that gunfire erupted in the nightclub shortly before two in the morning. It was thought there were as many as 300 people in the club when the shooting started. It was feared that many people were dead or injured. The problem was that the gunman was still in the club, and the gunshots continued unabated.
◊◊◊
None of us had gotten any sleep, so it was no surprise when I fell asleep on the short flight from Havana to Miami. The plan was for Cassidy and Paul to return home. Fritz and I would fly to Orlando, where we would meet Rita and Halle. Fritz had tried to get me to go home as well, but I knew that Halle and Rita would be a mess and wanted to be there to support them. I hoped that Trip had survived.
When we arrived in Miami, we received an update on the situation in Orlando. After a three-hour standoff with police, the gunman had been shot and killed. Initial reports were that 40-plus were dead and just as many wounded. That would mean nearly a third of the people at the nightclub had been shot.
There were also reports that the gunman had called 911, pledging his allegiance to the Islamic State. I admit it, I had to Google ‘Islamic State.’ Turns out, it’s another name for ISIS. I wish these terrorists would pick a name and stick with it.
