Page 29 of A Very Happy Thanksgiving
“Nobody saw the hostage video?”
“Everyone saw it. And please, ‘hostage’ is such a negative word.”
“Then what would you call this?” Marc motioned to himself and Serena.
“Forced hospitality?”
“If it was hospitality, we’d have access to a shower.”
“There’s only one shower, and it’s open-air. A logistical challenge.”
“Perhaps we could get some body spray?” Serena suggested, and Havana gave her a withering look. “Aerosols are also a scourge?” she asked.
“Exactly. But I’ll see what we have in the way of deodorant.”
“I need a hairbrush too, especially if you want me to be on camera again.”
Lavalier mics and good lighting would have been useful as well. “What’s the plan for the next video?”
“We asked the authorities to message us to open a dialogue, but the entire world got in touch. Reporters, fans, fellow environmentalists… We’ve received hundreds of thousands of messages, and they’re still coming. There might be a communication from the government in there, but if there is, we haven’t found it yet.”
Marc’s lips twitched, and he fought to maintain a neutral expression. Serena wasn’t quite so successful. She began giggling, and the more annoyed Havana got, the harder she laughed.
“This isn’t funny,” he snapped.
“Oh, but it is. You wanted to harness the power of millions of angry women, and you never considered they might turn on you?”
“Well, you’ll have to work out how to redirect them.”
“The way to do that is by letting us go,” Marc pointed out.
“Come up with a better option.”
“You kidnapped us, and now you want us to become brand ambassadors?”
The blonde skipped in. “We’ll give you free T-shirts and send you home faster.”
He gave her a look he’d practised in the mirror many times. Condescension.
“I could throw in a pineapple?” she offered.
Marc closed his eyes. Was this a nightmare? If he took a few deep breaths and forced his subconscious to quiet, would he wake up and find himself back in California?
No.
Fuck.
“Look, you somehow got lucky and managed to abduct us—congratulations. But if you want to save your tarpons, you need to get your act together with the rest of the process.” Was this what his life had come to? Giving pep talks to criminals? “Make a proper plan instead of improvising. Think ahead.”
“It’s a tarsier. One of the world’s smallest primates. A tarpon is a kind of fish.”
“Whatever.”
The blonde got out her phone, tapped the screen, and held it up. “See?”
It was a strange little thing with bulging ET eyes, long fingers, a velvety body, and ears like Yoda. Serena crowded in to see.
“Aw, it’s so cute.”
