Fifty-SixAbove: moonlight and commotion. The yacht has just turned from the dam with its great sluice gates and greater shoulders of rock while onlookers wave from the roadway above. Young women who have climbed aboard in cutoffs and halter tops kick and fall on their butts to the accelerating huff of an asthmatic accordion. Nastya intercepts Nathaniel, loops her arms around his neck and attempts to lead him in some saccharine-drenched romance. She confides that her prodigal husband has been absent much recently, drunk the remainder, that their marriage is rapidly headed toward the shoals. “Wait,” Nathaniel advises.
At that moment, D’Abro seizes a microphone from the bandleader and calls for attention. The music subsides and passengers gather round. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she says as a s
