Chapter 17
OTHELLA
The SS Talamanca at Sea, Day One
Where is Jerry Merriweather? Robbie and I have searched every corner of the SS Talamanca. We explore every empty stateroom and every other room, the social club, the barbershop, and the doctor’s office. By the end of the day, I don’t know which way to turn, so I turn on Robbie.
“I don’t care what Tobias Hartfield or Commander O’Flanagan think.
I saw him, and I will find him. I refuse to start my new life in Jamaica looking over my shoulder, waiting for some lowlife to jump out of the shadows and attack me.
” I exhale. “I may not have set foot on the island of Jamaica before, but it already holds a special place in my heart, and I won’t let any man ruin it for me. ”
Robbie looks at me kindly. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, Othella, but if he’s on board, why hasn’t he come after you?”
As we stroll past the barbershop on the Promenade Deck, the thought of pushing Robbie overboard crosses my mind. “Don’t you dare say things like that to me,” I exclaim. “He’s on this ship. I’m sure of it.”
“But Othella, we’ve looked everywhere,” Robbie responds softly, trying to soothe me.
“There has to be a place we haven’t searched,” I argue. “Maybe he’s one of those people hiding on the ship—what do they call them?”
“Stowaways.”
“Yes, that’s it. They know every nook and cranny of the Talamanca, don’t they?” I suddenly feel like I might cry. “I shoulda known. I get close to happiness and everything goes wrong.”
Robbie guides me to the railing. “Being happy doesn’t mean something bad has to happen. There’s just no sign of him.”
“He’s here,” I mutter. “He might be as dumb as a rock, but he knows how to stay out of sight.”
The ship rises and falls, then rises and falls again. I cling to the railing as a brisk breeze whips through my hair and across my face. Robbie lifts a hand, his fingertips gently tucking strands of my hair behind my ear.
The gentleness of his touch surprises me, mainly because I don’t mind it. “He wants to kill me, and he’ll stop at nothing to accomplish what he’s set out to do. I can’t let Jerry hurt me, Robbie. I just can’t.”
“Jerry? Is that his name? You know him?” The lines around Robbie’s eyes deepen with confusion.
If I had a leather belt like the one my mother used to hit me with, I’d give myself a spanking. How could I make such a mistake? Has having friends and sailing on a cruise ship made me daft? “Can I trust you, Robbie?”
“Of course you can trust me.” His face lights up. “Pinky swear, remember?”
Of course I recall that silly promise. “Let’s walk for a minute.”
Robbie bends his arm at the elbow and offers it to me. I slip my hand through, and we saunter on the deck as other couples parade by.
“His full name is Jerry Merriweather, and he thinks I hurt his brother—he caught up with me at Mr. Abbott’s house because of that, not to steal a brooch. That’s why I need to find him. If I don’t, he’s gonna ruin everything for me.”
“His brother? Was he a brute like Jerry? Was he your boyfriend? Did he hurt you? What kind of man is he?”
My nerves feel as if they are being soaked in gasoline. One more question and I’ll explode. “Yes, his brother hurt me—and I hurt him back.” I pull away from Robbie, but he won’t let me go. “Listen, I might’ve done more than just hurt his brother.”
“Might have? Is he dead?”
The question I’ve asked myself, coming from Robbie’s lips, makes my chest ache.
“Yes, he’s dead, but I don’t know if I killed him.
I hit him pretty hard in the head ’cause he’d hit me a couple of times and dragged me from one end of the apartment to the other.
I couldn’t let him beat me to death. So I struck him in the head with a Smokador ashtray.
And I’d do the same to his brother if he came after me. ”
“Christ, Othella. You’ve been through some tough times, haven’t you?” Robbie halts, running his hand over his head as if to hold back his thoughts. “What are you going to do if you find Jerry?”
“Tell him I don’t have what he’s looking for and I didn’t kill his brother, not deliberately.”
“You think talking to him will make a difference if he wants to hurt you?”
“I can’t just do nothing.”
“Well, then.” He softly pats my hand. “There’s one place we haven’t looked—the cargo hold at the very bottom of the ship.”
“You still want to help me find Jerry after what I just told you?”
“If I were a stowaway, that’s where I’d hide. Plenty of food, water, and clothing, and other supplies are stored there.”
“Are you sure?”
“What have I been doing for the past few days if not helping you? You’re my girl—I mean, my best friend. Just because I know his name and why he’s after you doesn’t mean I’ll stop helping you.”
“Why, Robbie Barnes.” I smile. “I swear, if we weren’t in public, I’d give you a big kiss.”
He looks down shyly, shuffling his feet.
“Don’t go acting all romantic, Othella. It’s not like you.”
It’s almost midnight, and I find myself pacing in my stateroom, wide awake. Robbie’s suggestion was reasonable: to wait until morning and search in the cargo hold. But I’m neither patient nor reasonable. I trust my instincts. That’s how I stay alive.
The boat sways as the storm, which has been looming all day, finally strikes full force. Passengers have retreated to their staterooms for the night. I can hear a few sailors moving about the decks, making sure everything is secure.
I change out of my day dress into riding pants and a collared shirt, stuffing my pocketknife into my hip pocket.
My loosely conceived plan is ready to be put to the test. I slip into the corridors, mindful of not being spotted by roaming sailors, and creep down the winding staircases until I reach the lowest level of the ship—the cargo hold.
It smells bad. The stench of urine and spit makes my eyes water.
If Jerry is on board—and I know he is—this is where he’ll be, the filthiest, darkest, and creepiest level on the damn ship.
I can hear the rats scampering, rodents darting from one spot to another as I pray that my Oxfords aren’t in their way.
Candlelight flickers in the distance. I move toward it.
“Jerry,” I whisper. “Jerry Merriweather. Is that you? I know you’re down here.”
“What the hell?” His gruff voice stops me in my tracks.
“It’s me, Othella.” Squinting into the shadows, my vision gradually adjusts to the dim light. Jerry sits on a cot in the corner, surrounded by a half wall of crates.
“Who’s there?”
“I said, it’s me, Othella.”
A laugh that sounds like a foghorn bounces off the walls. “Girl, you’ve got some nerve. Coming down here looking for me?”
“Why haven’t you tried to find me?”
“I wasn’t in a hurry to find you.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not here to harm you.”
“That has to be a lie.” I watch him and reconsider my decision to confront him alone. He’s twice my size. “If you’re not here to hurt me, why are you on this ship?”
Jerry reaches for a nearby crate as if it were a nightstand and picks up a sterling silver cigarette case. He taps one cigarette out and lights it. I wait, not wanting to rush him. Plus, his puffing gives me a moment to consider what to do next and whether Jerry is telling the truth.
“Did Tony Schaefer send you to follow me? I betcha he did, didn’t he?”
“Perry always said you had a good head on your shoulders.” Jerry takes another drag from his cigarette. “Yeah. Tony sent me. He said you owed him an old man’s pocket watch. I’m here to take it back to Chicago.”
I laugh out loud. “Tony’s outta luck, sending you all this way for nothing. That old man, Major Thomas, didn’t have a pocket watch.”
“Come on, Othella, I saw you at that party. You took it from the major’s daughter, so hand it to me.”
“I don’t have it.”
“Then where is it?”
“Don’t worry. I know where it is.” A lie. I hadn’t thought about that pocket watch since Mr. Abbott’s party.
“Then get it and bring it to me.” Jerry swings his legs off the cot and stomps out his cigarette with his bare foot. “Look, the only reason I’m here is to make sure you finish the job Tony hired you to do.”
“And if I do, who’s gonna pay me the dough Tony promised?”
“When I have the watch, I’ll telegram Tony, and he’ll wire you the money.”
More lies Jerry expects me to swallow. “And what about you and me? You’re not gonna try to avenge your brother?”
“No way. Tony made me swear to leave you be. If any harm comes to you, I can kiss my ass goodbye.”
Liar, liar. He’s still gonna try and get payback because of Perry. I can smell it. But if he wants that pocket watch, he’ll also go after Vivian Jean, because if he was watching us at the party, he knows I gave her back the pocket watch. “The smell down here is awful. I can scarcely breathe.”
“The cigarette smoke helps,” he says. “You want one?”
“No. Let’s go upstairs. There’s nobody outside with all this wind.”
He pulls on a pair of boots. “Can we get it tonight?”
“We can make plans upstairs. On the deck.”
We climb the multiple flights to the Promenade Deck and head toward the bow.
“I’m curious,” I say. “What’s the story behind Tony Schaefer and Major Thomas? What makes this pocket watch such a big deal?” I ask a question I already know the answer to.
Jerry lights up another cigarette. “They used to be business partners.”
That’s what Robbie told me. So, it must be true, and maybe they are still partners. “What kind of business?”
“Before he became a banker, he owned funeral homes all over the Black Belt. During Prohibition, he was a rum runner. Perry and I drove his trucks, hauled crates of bottled rum from South Florida to Chicago. When the banks started collapsing, Major Thomas invested his money in jewels. That pocket watch is worth a fortune.”
Robbie didn’t have that information. “Why would he flaunt the pocket watch out in the open by giving it to his daughter to wear around her neck? It should be locked away in a safe.”
“Don’t ask me. I don’t know nothing but what Tony tells me.”
“Is that who you are these days? Just a gofer for Tony Schaefer? Don’t you want to have something of your own?”
“What you mean?”
“Why don’t you give me one of those cigarettes and I’ll tell you.”
He reaches into his pocket and ducks down low ’cause of the wind to light two cigarettes. “Here you go. Now what’s your idea?”
I take a long drag from the cigarette. “Forget about Tony. Let’s cut a deal with the major. He has the pocket watch and plenty of money and can set us up. You won’t need to go back to Chicago. You can go anywhere you like in the world with enough money in your pockets.”
He braces his back against the railing. A dark shadow falls over him. “Tony warned me you’d try to get me to turn on him. Like you turned on Perry.”
I want to swallow, but I have no spit in my mouth. “To tell you the truth, I think Tony had something to do with your brother’s death. I hit him, but I didn’t kill him. He talked to me as I walked out the door.”
Suddenly, Jerry stops talking. He swings me around and pushes my back against the railing. He has a grip on both my shoulders and he’s leaning in, making it difficult for me to keep my feet on the ground.
“What’s wrong with you?” I hiss.
“You’re lying to me. Lying about everything. About not killing my brother, about knowing where the pocket watch is, about betraying Tony. You just want to save your own behind.”
“Let me go. You’re hurting me.”
Jerry laughs. “I’ll just take the watch from the major’s daughter. Neither she nor her husband looks like they’ll give me any trouble.”
“That’s not what Tony wants you to do.”
“Tony’s not here, and I’m not dumb enough to let you go because of him.”
My back arches over the railing and my feet barely touch the deck. He’s gonna push me over, and I’ll drown in the Atlantic. Nothing left of me except memories of the girl I was. Nothing about the girl I want to be.
“Come on, Jerry. You want that pocket watch more than you want to hurt me. And you don’t want to make an enemy of Tony.”
“A minute ago, your idea was to throw Tony aside and work with Major Thomas. What happened to that plan? A lie? Like most everything that comes outta your mouth?”
Jerry’s large hand wraps around my throat before I can scream.
The pearl-handled switchblade is in my back pocket. My mother’s voice can’t help me now. What am I gonna do?
Jerry spins me around, but our feet tangle.
We stumble, and I end up with both arms wrapped around the railing and don’t intend to let go.
He won’t toss me overboard. The man is surprised by our new positions and loosens his grip.
I drive my knee into his groin, putting all my weight behind it.
He hunches forward, if only for an instant, blinks, and then rushes at me.
I hunch down and spring up. He is so off-balance when I drive my body into him again that he falls over the railing, his eyes wide, his mouth forming an O of shock as he tumbles over and over until he splashes into the sea.
Madness inspires madness.
If I hear my mother’s voice one more time, I might follow Jerry into the sea. Where was she all those years when I desperately needed her? The disembodied voice inside my head is unbearable, a cruel reminder of the help that never comes—the help I need now.