Long Voyage Back (20 page)

Neil laughed softly. He could see her face clearly for the first time in the moonlight. Her bruise was almost gone and she looked beautiful.

I wanted to come over and comfort and protect you,' he said, smiling. 'Instead I almost knocked you overboard.'

Gazing wide-eyed at him, she took a while to absorb what he'd said. 'Maybe you'd better get us life jackets,' she commented, smiling.

For Neil the world was reduced to her eyes gleaming in the

moonlight. He pulled her gently against holding her head and hair against the side of his face, simply holding her close. He only noticed the stiffness of her initial response when he felt her suddenly sag against him, relax and sigh.

Òh, Neil,' she said, and he felt her arms tighten around his back, her powerful hug surprising him. After a long moment they released the strength of their embrace and Jeanne pulled back her head to look with her large glowing eyes into his. Their faces then came together as slowly and inevitably and perfectly as Vagabondcorrecting her course; their lips touched, wetted, parted, kissed. Neil lost track of time and place and when the kiss ended and Jeanne gasped for breath he instinctively glanced at the sails and sea to assure himself that his ship was still on course.

Jeanne sighed. 'Well,' she said, blinking her eyes and looking a little dazed. 'Well.'

`How beautiful you are,' said Neil.

She looked up at him uncertainly. 'Hold me,' she said, coming into his arms again, her face against his.

`NEIL! . . . NEIL!'

When Jim's voice invaded their world with cruel suddenness Neil released Jeanne and stood up.

Òver here, Jim,' he said, looking into the wheelhouse and dimly seeing Jim standing at the wheel looking for him.

Òh, there you are,' Jim said, rubbing his eyes. 'I just came up to go on watch and saw no one at the wheel and panicked.'

`Vagabond's sails are balanced,' he said, remaining near Jeanne. 'She's self-steering.'

`Really? That's fantastic,' Jim said, coming towards Neil. Ìsn't it about time for me to take the helm. I thought you said . . . Oh! . . . Hi, Jeanne.'

`Hi, Jim,' Jeanne said.

Ìt's about twelve-thirty,' Neil said, glancing at his watch. `Since Vagabond was doing the job by herself I thought I'd let you and Lisa sleep.'

`Thanks,' said Jim. 'Wow. Look at that moon.'

Neil turned to follow Jim's stare out to the east, his eye just meeting Jeanne's briefly. Ìt's quite a night,' Neil agreed.

Ì feel great,' said Jim. 'I think I needed the extra sleep.' `Do you want me to fix you some coffee?' Jeanne asked. Òh, no, I'm fine,' said Jim. 'Besides, Neil says we can't have any coffee at night except under pressure conditions.' `Pressure conditions"?'

Jeanne inquired, looking up at

Neil.

Ì think it means no coffee unless we're sinking,' said Jim, grinning. Ì doubt we'll be able to get any more coffee unless we end up in South America,' Neil commented with his usual seriousness. 'It's now a delicacy. Sorry.'

Òur Captain Bligh,' said Jeanne, smiling.

`He was a marvellous sea man,' Neil rejoined.

`But unpopular with his crew,' said Jeanne.

Ì like Neil,' said Jim seriously, and Jeanne and Neil both laughed. A sudden violent snapping and flapping from forward sent Neil rushing 'past Jim over to starboard. The genoa was luffing and Vagabond was veering off-course up wind. He turned the wheel to the right and when he saw her swinging back on course realized that the genoa sheet had come loose.

`Winch the genny in,' he said to Jim, who had followed him over to help. As he steadied Vagabond's course, he watched Jim pull in the line controlling the genoa, first by hand and then with three wraps around the winch.

`Far enough?' Jim finally asked.

À little more,' Neil said.

When the genoa was sheeted to Neil's satisfaction and with Vagabond once again contentedly galloping southwards through the night, Neil turned the helm over to Jim. Ì think she'll steer herself still,' Neil said. 'But you may have to adjust the genny or mizzen sheets to get it right. Do you remember how I showed you?'

`Sure. I've got her now.'

`Good.'

Neil turned to see if Jeanne was still there and saw her standing next to the entrance to her cabin. He walked over to stand behind her, just touching, their backs to Jim, lookingout to sea.

`How strange it is,' he heard her say softly after a long pause. 'Here my husband is just dead, millions just killed, millions more doomed, and all I can think of is wanting a man I've known for a few days in bed with me.'

Startled he turned to her. 'Jeanne . . .' he said.

`But I can't . .

`. .. Jeanne,' he whispered again. 'Life doesn't offer us much these days . . . We should take what we can . .

Separated by only six inches, she turned to look up at him, the moonlight full on her face, his in shadow.

`No, Neil,' she said softly. 'There are others. And my God, only four days . . . I think I owe it to Bob, and to . . . Frank . . . to you even, to assume it's just . . . temporary insanity.'

`Would we were always insane like this,' said Neil.

`No, Neil,' she said and, squeezing his hand once, stepped down her cabin steps and disappeared below. Vaguely Neil thought she might also have whispered a 'goodnight'. He reluctantly slid her hatch closed and, exhilarated and alive, turned back into the wheelhouse. Jim was now sitting on the edge of the other cockpit coaming, staring forward.

Ì'm going to rest here in the wheelhouse,' Neil said to him. Ànd if you fall overboard,'

he went on, noting Jim's somewhat precarious perch on the side of the boat, `remember to leave a forwarding address.'

Àn island in the South Pacific,' Jim responded immediately. Stretching himself out on the cushions, Neil yawned. `You'd better be in good shape,' he commented.

`Goodnight,' he heard Jim say to him.

`That's my impression,' said Neil, smiling to himself, until the sudden image of Frank chilled him.

Vagabond, indifferent to it all, plunged forward through the night. After Neil had fallen asleep on the cushions in the back of the wheelhouse Jim was forced to resume steering. The wind picked up and was heading them more; he wasn't able to get the sails adjusted to permit Vagabond to self-steer. Even though he looked forward to her company on their watch he decided to let Lisa sleep a little longer. He wanted time alone to think.

Although he had disagreed with his father at the time, Jim admired him for trying to get back to their home in Oyster Bay to try to save his mother and Susie. Jim knew that Frank had a fierce loyalty to his family, a pride in it that often made him too severe on his children. Now that he himself was all the family that his father had left Jim felt a sense of responsibility towards him he'd never felt before. This sense of caring was increased by his realization that more than any of the others aboard his father appeared still in a state of shock.

Jim knew he had been hurt by Neil's taking over command of Vagabond and that of course his radiation sickness must be depressing him. Jim could see that Frank lacked his usual dynamic energy. When he had worked with him tearing down the remains of the shattered rear wall of the wheelhouse and designing a sail-awning that could be raised and lowered, Frank had been enthusiastic about the work for half an hour and then lost interest, wandering away and leaving the project to others. The only person who seemed able to bring him to life was Jeanne. When she'd suggested that all the men be involved in kitchen work he had smiled at her and argued playfully, 'What's the sense of surviving if I have to wash the dishes?' but nevertheless cleaned up the galley more cheerfully than Jim had ever seen. When Jeanne had become impatient with Skippy's clinging, Frank had spent close to an hour playing horsy and card games with him. Since he knew how much his father cared for Jeanne's feelings, the closeness of Neil and Jeanne implied by their whispering together earlier made Jim uneasy. For although Jim had been too caught up in the rush for survival over the first four days to feel grief for his mother and Susie, now, when he was aware of his father's problems, he experienced a sense of loss. He would never be able to express his love of and appreciation for his mother; she had been cheated out of receiving the love that both he and Frank would have given her had she survived to be with them. Jim's caring for his father was reinforced by this sense of having failed his mother. But how could he help him?

Lisa emerged from her mother's cabin out into the moonlight and came into the wheelhouse.

It's our watch,' she said. 'Why didn't you wake me?' She was wearing jeans and a blue windbreaker, her hair, dark and long like her mother's, tied into a ponytail. Since none of them could wash with fresh water everyone's hair was getting stiff and straggly. Ùntil the wind got too strong Vagabond was self-steering,' Jim replied in a low voice, motioning towards Neil. 'Careful, Neil's sleeping.'

Òh,' she responded, glancing to her right.

Jim felt a little burst of happiness at her nearness as she came to stand beside him at the helm. He took her hand in his. Even though they had flirted with each other the previous summer and were even closer now, since the horrors of the war Jim had felt almost asexual, as if anything too pleasant were obscene. But they needed to touch each other and often held hands while on watch.

`Mom's pacing woke me up,' Lisa said softly. 'She was going up and down the narrow floor space like a subway shuttle.'

Ì'm glad you're here;' Jim said, thinking of Jeanne and Neil embracing but not wanting to tell Lisa. For a moment they stood silently, Vagabond plunging and hissing through the night.

`Vagabond's really moving, isn't it?' Lisa said.

Ìt's great,' Jim whispered back.

`You want something to drink?' Lisa asked.

`No, I'm okay.'

`Did you check on Seth?'

Òh, no, I didn't.'

Lisa took a flashlight and went aft to Neil's cabin to see if Seth needed anything. Seth's right thigh had become infected and whether the antibiotic Macklin was administering would kill it wasn't yet determined. Seth had joked to them about the circumstances of his being hit by saying, 'That's the last time I come up on deck to find out what's going on.'

As Lisa pushed back the hatch and started to descend the short ladder she was startled to see a dim light and the figure of Conrad Macklin sitting in the darkness beside Seth, who seemed to be sleeping.

Òh!' Lisa said, frightened.

`Can I help you?' Macklin asked quietly.

Ì . . . I didn't know . . . I was checking on Seth.'

`He's alive,' Macklin stated indifferently.

`What . . . what are you . . . ?'

`You ever tried sleeping up forward?' Macklin answered. 'I was bouncing like someone was dribbling me.'

Òh,' said Lisa, noticing now that there was a red glow indicating Neil's radio was on and that Macklin had some papers in his lap.

Ì'm sleeping back here,' Macklin went on, 'until your boyfriend stops trying to smash my skull against the forward cabin roof.'

Lisa left with a queasiness from the surge and sway below and an uneasiness about her encounter with Macklin. On her

way back to the wheelhouse she noticed a light in Frank's cabin and back with Jim she told him that Macklin was with Seth and that his father seemed to be up.

`Dad's not sleeping well,' Jim said. 'He's still sick.'

Ì know,' said Lisa, taking Jim's hand in hers. 'Do you think . . . it's . . Ì hope it'll go away in a few days,' said Jim. 'Neil and 01ly don't seem bad and they were exposed almost as much.'

`Mom thinks he's a little depressed about losing . . . your mother.'

Jim merely nodded, staring forward into the darkness. `Do you think she's dead?' Lisa asked softly.

`Yes,' said Jim.

`My Dad's dead too,' said Lisa. `. . . Sometimes it seems like he never lived . . . Everything is . . . so changed.' Lisa released his hand and steadied herself against the control-panel shelf.

Ìt's strange,' Jim said, putting his arm around her waist. Èverything I used to be interested in, you know, sports, music, cars, seems sort of far away. I tried listening to some of my favourite tapes and I started to . . . you know, I felt like crying. It was pretty funny.'

Lisa didn't reply, gently moving closer against him. She wanted to put her arm around him but felt awkward and left her hands on the moulding.

Ì'm glad you're here, Lisa,' Jim went on very softly. 'I get kinda lonely with my Dad . . . sick and Neil all wrapped up in the boat. You're about the only part of the old world that seems . . . all right.'

Ì . . . I'm glad you're here, too,' she said, letting her head fall against his shoulder. 'We will be all right, won't we, Jim?' There was a wistful quality in her voice which Jim felt viscerally.

He hesitated, all the horrors, past and still possible, clamouring for his attention.

`Yes,' he replied simply, pulling her more tightly against him, and ignoring the clamour. Tut not unless we take down the genoa and reef the main.'

She looked up at him puzzled.

`The wind's too strong,' he went on. 'I think the number one watch team better reduce sail.'

She smiled and without further command took over the • wheel from Jim who, smiling back, left to get his safety harness and go forward.

By mid-morning of the following day Neil's midnight romance had become unreal. Reality was upon him in the form of a crowded wheelhouse and thirty-knot winds out of the east-southeast.

After breakfast he and Frank had listened to another appalling news summary. Refugees were flooding southwards all over the world and being resented and rebuffed by the local populations in the traditional ways of treating war refugees. Cuba, the Panama Canal, and Venezuelan oil installations had all been struck by some sort of nuclear weapon; the Caribbean too would be a disaster area. It wasn't even clear which nation had hit Venezuela, since she, like all the rest of South America, had loudly declared her neutrality and was refusing to sell oil to the United States. And later, at eight A.M., with the wind now beginning to screech through the stainless steel rigging, and Tony injuring a rib in a fall while trying to bring in a torn jib, reality was fully back. In the crowded wheelhouse under an overcast and darkening sky, Skippy was whining about the taste of fish, Lisa vomited her breakfast on the wheelhouse floor, and Jeanne, queasy herself, was trying to deal with them. For Neil, battling the helm, there was no room for romance with a torn jib, an injured crewman, rising winds and seas, and Frank and Tony arguing with him about their course. By dead reckoning from their noon position of the day before Neil calculated that they were about a hundred miles east-southeast of Cape Lookout, North Carolina, a spit of land that ended the long sand barrier that stretched south of the notorious Cape Hatteras. Without consulting the others, Neil had been maintaining a southerly course, partly because he was considering a run to the Bahamas and West Indies rather than trying to put in again to the US mainland. Frank had complained the previous afternoon that they seemed to be staying unnecessarily far off the coast and suggested they angle more westward. Now with large angry swells sweeping up against them from the south and the wind still rising, a choice was being forced upon him. They could either continue to work their way south, or they could turn and run back towards land. They had been unable to pick up a radio station in the Morehead City-Pamlico Sound area of North Carolina and . thus had no way of knowing what conditions would be like there.