The Misadventures of Mr. Butterbutt's Island Vacation

    The Misadventures of Mr. Butterbutt’s Island Vacation

Suzanne Marsh

Mr. Angus Butterbutt’s office door was opened just a slight crack: his secretary Margie Malone tapped quietly on the outer door:

“Yes Margie, what is it? I am leaving on an extended vacation as you know.”

“No worries sir, I made the reservations for your vacation.”

“Thank you Margie.”

Just as she closed the outer door her desk phone rang:

“Mr. Butterbutt office how may I help you.”

The voice sounded imperious:

“I wanna talk to Butterbutt NOW!”

“Just a moment sir, Mr. Butterbutt will be right with you.”

Margie buzzed the inner office:

“Mr. Butterbutt, there is a gentleman on line three demanding to speak to you.”

“Tell him I have left the office.”

“Mr. Butterbutt, I suggest you take this call.”

“Margie I need to leave now if I want to catch my plane.”

“Mr. Butterbutt, please answer this call, he is not a very nice person.”

“Put the call through, I can spare three minutes. This better be good!”

Alvin Butterbutt, had been expecting worse things than a phone call. He was defending Don John Ricci, the local Mafia boss. He accused of murdering his wife. The evidence was particularly damning. Ricci had been very explicit that if he lost Alvin Butterbutt could run but he couldn’t hide forever:

“Butterbutt here.”

“Ah, Mistera Buttabutt, I will kill you if a da boss losses; dis case you ah understand.”

“Threats are no good here. I have asked for a continuance. I have business out of town.”

He hung up the phone. He had to get out of here now. He said his goodbyes to Margie. Then ran for the elevator. He quickened his pace to his Lamborghini, it always took his breath away it was a powder blue. It could do at least two hundred and twenty one miles per hour top speed. It could do zero to sixty two miles per hour in 2.1 seconds. This had been his dream car for so long, now he had one. However if he did not leave for the air port now he would never make his flight. His papers for the trial were in his briefcase, his clothes in a carry on. He pulled out of the garage at sixty miles an hour heading down Main Street. He loved the wind in his face as he drove.

The interstate was busy with rush hour traffic, he maneuvered in and out of traffic. He could see the exit for the airport when he heard a loud bang. For a moment he thought someone had taken a shot at him. Instead he had a flat tire. He pulled over to the side of the road; took off his tweed jacket, and rolled up his sleeves. He had not changed a tire in years, now here he was with his expensive car changing his own tire. He changed the tire as quickly as possible. Jumped back into the car. He still had twenty minutes before take off. He pulled out his cell phone:

“Margie, listen to me very carefully, delete my travel plans from the computer. Lock the office

up and take the entire week off.”

Margie glared at the phone, Mr. Butterbutt telling her to close the office for the entire week, and delete his travel plans. She thought about that phone call she had insisted he take before he left, it has to have something to do with murder case he was working on.

“I will do that Mr. Butterbutt, have a nice vacation.”

He parked the Lamborghini in the first parking spot he found. Grabbed his briefcase and carry on, running toward the Philippine Airlines (PAL) desk. Out of breath he stammered:

“I have a three o’clock flight to Palawan.”

“Sir, the flight just left, the next one is tomorrow morning.”

“I can not have MISSED THAT FIGHT! I need to leave here now.”

“Sir, I can’t bring the plane back, there is a very nice hotel next tot he airport.”

“I don’t want a hotel room I WANT A FLIGHT OUT OF HERE NOW!”

“Sir calm down, you are making a scene.”

“Look lady, I will make a bigger scene if I don’t get a flight out of here.”

“We could put you on a flight to Austin, and you can transfer to a PAL flight there.

Would that help?”

“Yes, when does the flight leave?”

“Ii departs in thirty minutes.”

“I’ll take it.”

Things were not going according to plan. He quickly found the flight to Austin. First class seating. The stewardess offered him a small bottle of gin, mixed with Squirt. Even that didn’t calm his nerves. The plane took off right on time. He finally made the flight to Palawan. He told stewardess that the Pacific was lovely:

“Sir that is that Atlantic, you won’t see the Pacific Ocean, this plane is going to Australia.”

“Oh no, that dizzy woman told me this flight connected with a PAL plane going directly to

Palawan.”

“I am sorry sir but we can get you flight to Palawan from Australia. I can do that from here.”

“Thank you miss.”

Things were just going wrong. He needed to hide until Ricci found another lawyer that was willing to take the case. Once the plane landed in Sydney, Australia Mr. Butterbutt once again began to wonder if his island vacation would ever take place! He paced himself, he really did not want a coronary he was overweight, standing five feet four inches and weighing in at two hundred and fifty five pounds. He finally found the PAL desk.

“Sir, I need to get on the next plane to Palawan. Please don’t send me anywhere else but. I

Have hotel reservations but thus far this is the closest I have gotten to my destination.”

“Sir, you are in luck; there is a flight today at thee o’clock.”

“I will take it. Thank you.”

He had several hours to kill before the plane took off. He couldn’t leave the airport one of Ricci men could very well be following him. He really regretted taking that murder case but the money and prestige from the case were worth it; at least in the beginning. He took murder threats very seriously.

His cell phone rang, it was Margie, his girl Friday:

“Mr. Butterbutt, I was just in the office, someone broke in. Do you want me to

call the police?”

“Yes, for heaven sake’s Margie; then get out of the office. Ricci is threatening to

kill me. I don’t want to take a chance on your being hurt.”

“Yes, Mr. Butterbutt.”

Mr. Butterbutt swallowed hard, he needed this vacation now more than ever. He had all the papers in his briefcase that were pertinent to his case. He had no doubt that Ricci was the murderer, he was also his client.

The PAL plane took off on time, there was some turbulence but nothing terrible. He did not notice the dark haired man in the pin stripe suit, if he had things might have been different. The PAL plane arrived safely. Mr. Butterbutt took off at a fast trot only to discover he was in El Nido not Puerto Princesa where his hotel was located. This was a simple matter, he hailed a taxi. The dark haired stranger followed him; deciding that Ricci would want caution; he decided to wait. Ricci wanted the papers that had been taken from him. He had entrusted them to Butterbutt.

Mr. Butterbutt, realized he was being followed; he had seen the man before. He was one of Ricci’s henchmen. He switched taxi’s heading instead for a beach overlooking Puerto Princesa Subterranean River. The brochure stated there were boats there. It was the only way to get rid off the incriminating papers. He had to do it, even though it was evidence. He would tell the court that he had lost them. It was better than being dead.

He found a tour boat that was leaving in ten minutes. He jumped on board. This was not going to be a dream vacation, more like the worst nightmare any lawyer could have, and he was living it. The boat began to leave the dock just as Ricci’s henchman watched it clear into the bay. Butterbutt, sighed a sigh of relief. Once the boat was underway he pulled the typed papers out, throwing them into the river. He was safe.

The boat ride as it turned out was a small cruise ship, he would be gone until the end of next week. The good thing was he had outwitted Ricci and his henchman and would live to tell the tale.