Chapter Twenty-One Gertrude
Chapter Twenty-One
Gertrude
One day before the Oceanus is torpedoed
The couple next door had been up most of the night. The man, William, spoke in a low, growling voice filled with menace. The woman, Sigrid, spoke in soft, soothing, and sometimes desperate tones. She was trying to calm the beast who likely was ready to take my child.
Glass shattered, and I imagined the man hurling a crystal glass toward the cabin wall. Next came the violent sounds of rough grunts, met by her silence. I didn’t need to see to know what was happening.
Finally, the room fell still, and I supposed he’d fallen asleep. I pictured her in his arms, staring stiff and wide eyed at the ceiling or looking toward the curtains covering the porthole and imagining the ocean’s dark waters. How many times had a similar story played out with Alfred and me?
Rising, I checked my watch. The sun would soon rise, but there was no one on deck. The ship would be quiet.
Feeling the heavy weight of the walls and the past, I dressed, struggling with the buttons at the base of my spine. My belly pressed against the wool fabric. I had forgotten what it felt like to move with ease, to see my feet and sleep through the night.
I exited the cabin and found my way to the dining room. It wasn’t open yet, but a coffee service had been set up outside the double doors. A steward dressed in a white jacket asked me if I wanted to sit.
“I’d like to sit on the deck. How’s the weather?”
“Warmer, but there’s still a chill in the air. I’d be happy to bring you a coffee.”
“Thank you.”
I climbed the stairs and exited via the doorway and found an empty chair. The wooden lounge chairs looked inviting. I eased into a chair, tipped my face to the emerging sun, and drew in a deep breath. The salt air was a balm to my scattered nerves.
The steward appeared with my coffee, a porcelain cup on a silver tray with sugar, cream, and several biscuits. “Can I get you a blanket?”
“Thank you, I’m fine. You have been very kind.”
“Of course.”
I leaned back and raised the cup to my lips. The warm coffee and soft breeze created the first pleasant moments I’d had in years. I could feel my guard dropping.
“Good morning.”
The rising sun backlit the figure of a large man. As I shielded my eyes, anxiety set my senses back on a tightrope. It was Chief Mate Riggs.
Tall, he had the narrow waist of a young, fit man. Thick black hair resisted the cream he’d used to tame it. His angled face could have been sharp, if not for the curiosity warming his brown eyes. He had a book tucked under his arm.
“Please don’t rise,” he said. He stepped within striking distance.
“How are you?” I resettled into my seat, but I remained vigilant. Those who lowered their guard died.
“I am well. But I’m more interested in you.” He pointed to the chair beside mine, and when I nodded, he sat. “How are you feeling?”
“Well.”
“And the baby?”
“It moves often.” Each time it kicked, darkness crept closer.
“That’s good. The child is healthy.”
“Yes.”
“You’re certain the baby will arrive in June?”
“Yes. I have at least another month. Plenty of time to arrive in New York. No need to worry.”
“Worry is part of my job. If you have any issues during the voyage, please find me. I’ll find you a medical professional. And when we reach port, I can also assist you.”
“Thank you.” There was a time when I could converse with anyone, but I’d kept to myself for so long, my conversation skills had rusted. “What are you reading, Chief Mate?” I asked.
“A Farewell to Arms, by Ernest Hemingway.”
“Ah, the hero Lieutenant Frederic Henry.”
Chief Mate Riggs didn’t hide his amazement. “You’ve read it? I’m surprised it’s still available in Austria.”
“My uncle secretly stocked many English titles after the Germans arrived.”
After I married Alfred, I’d kept several books in English hidden. Rebellion within their pages. I often sneaked them from their hiding place in my dresser and reread them, seeking comfort and disobedience. “I appreciated the hero’s determination.”
He nodded solemnly. “Did you like it?”
“I found it stressful.”
He grinned. “But that’s good, isn’t it?”
“I suppose.”
“It distracts me through long nights and months at sea.”
I cleared my throat. “And where are you from in the United States? I think it’s far vaster than I realized.” I was counting on endless lands where anyone could get lost.
“North Carolina.”
I was familiar with the large cities like New York and Washington, DC. But beyond, the country was a blur. “Where is that?”
“On the East Coast. Biggest city nearby is Norfolk, and beyond that, Washington, DC.”
Dr. Brooks was from Norfolk. “I’ve heard of the city.”
He removed a pen and an old telegram from his pocket and turned it face down.
Resting it on his palm, he sketched out what looked like the East Coast of the United States.
He drew a long ribbon of land that was close to the mainland but separate.
He drew three dots. He pointed to the northernmost mark.
“This is New York City, the second spot is Norfolk, and the last is the Outer Banks.”
“What’s the distance between the points?”
“Four hundred miles between New York and Norfolk, and then another hundred miles to the Outer Banks.”
The map was a helpful reference. “Four hundred miles seems very far.”
“The distance between New York and Norfolk is a day’s train ride between the cities. After that, it’s a short car ride to the Outer Banks.”
“And the roads are in good shape?”
“Very good. We haven’t been bombed like Europe.”
“Good.” A land without war and Germans was so encouraging. The red spring sky leaked through the canopy of clouds. “How did you get here?” I asked.
“I grew up on the water. Made sense when all this started, I’d join the navy.”
The chief mate’s easy manner teased some of the strain tightening my nerves. “How long have you served?”
“Since 1940.”
“The war drew you?”
“I’d always planned to go to sea. My folks wanted me to wait until I finished college, and I would have if not for the war. I’ve promised my mother that I’ll return once the fighting ends.”
He was approximately twenty-two, very close to my age, yet I felt ancient compared to him. “Was that wise?”
“I don’t know how a degree will make me happy. Maybe one day it will. It sure would make my ma happy.”
University had always been out of the question for me, but I’d longed to go. My marriage to Alfred had been my uncle’s greatest dream for me. “I’m sure they have great plans for you.”
“I suppose you’re right.” He glanced at my belly, and then his cheeks reddened a fraction, as if he’d seen something indecent. “I guess you would know.”
“Because . . .”
“You almost being a mother and all.”
“I don’t have any idea what I’m doing, Chief Mate. I don’t know how to be a mother. For most of my life, it was just my uncle and me.” I swallowed as I thought back to the coin I’d tossed into the river when I made my wish.
He eyed me as if he’d picked up a sorrow buried under the words. “Where are you going?”
“New York City.” I spoke with surprising confidence. “A distant cousin is waiting.” Again, I turned the conversation in a different heading. “Are you on duty?”
“Soon, but not yet. I was just killing a little time before returning to duty. You go ahead and drink your coffee before it gets cold.”
“Thank you.” I sipped. “What does a chief mate do?”
“I oversee all the operations on the ship. I’m in charge of the men who run the engines, maintain lifeboats, and service the big guns.”
“I saw the guns when I boarded.”
“They are .50 calibers. They are a force, and if any sub thinks it’s going to get one over on us, we’ll have a few words with them.”
He sounded so brash. So sure. Young. “Have you fought the subs before?”
“I’ve seen them. We cracked off a few rounds in January when a periscope was spotted, but we didn’t sink one. They’re sneaky bastards.” He blushed. “Excuse my language.”
I waved away his concern. “Do you think we’re in danger?”
“I’d be lying if I said we weren’t. The subs have destroyed their fair share of ships near the United States’ East Coast.”
“I’ve seen nothing in the papers.”
“Not much has been written about the sinking ships near the US coast. But we all know the North Carolina shoreline is a graveyard.” As if catching himself, he added, “It’s always been tricky sailing off that coast, but Captain Stoddard is experienced and won’t be fooled by the U-boats or the shoals. ”
“Shoals?”
He drew a faint line off the Outer Banks where it elbowed into the ocean. “Sandbars under the water’s surface. They shift often, and if a sailor isn’t watching, he can get his ship caught up in one.”
“How many ships have been sunk by U-boats?”
“I don’t have an exact number. But my pa writes me from time to time. He can see ships burning on the water from the beach. Says there are nights when the skyline is all lit up. Government wants it kept quiet, so he doesn’t say too much about it beyond me and my brothers.”
“Why is this war such a secret in the United States?” It had been unavoidable in Austria and as I crossed Europe.
He carefully folded the map and placed the paper and pen back in his pocket. His gaze traveled toward the ocean and grew wistful. “Uncle Sam doesn’t want anyone knowing the Krauts are that close to US soil.”
“Uncle Sam?”
“The US government. They know if we can see the German subs, they sure can see us.”
My heart accelerated with unease.
Again, as if he realized what he’d said, he amended himself. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Werner. The Oceanus is sailing at top speed, and we’re a hard target to hit. We’ll be in New York City by the weekend.”
Time was tricky. Seconds could fly by one day and drag painfully on the next. I held up my coffee cup. “Cheers to outrunning the Germans.”
He nodded. “I second that.”
“Where will you go after this trip?”
“It’s back to Norfolk, Virginia. Normally, I don’t serve on the Oceanus, but she was shorthanded, so I was ordered to serve as chief mate on this trip.”
“And then?”
“I’ll have a few weeks’ leave to see my parents, and then I’ll be reassigned to a new vessel.”
My mother was a distant memory, and our time together felt more like a dream than part of my life. But I missed my uncle, who had smelled of tobacco and old books. “It’ll be good to see your parents.”
“Sure. I miss them something awful.”
I was glad my uncle wasn’t alive to see the war or the results of the marriage he’d put so much hope into.
“So, it’s just you and the baby?” Chief Mate Riggs said.
I never thought about a future with the baby. In my mind, I was alone. But since I’d seen Sigrid again, I’d felt an overwhelmingly protective urge for the child. I couldn’t love it, but I could keep it safe and away from Alfred. “And the distant cousin.”
“That’s rough.”
“As I said, I’ll be fine. I’m tougher than I look.”
“I’d say you’re tough. Takes a lot of pluck to get this far alone.”
Desperation had required a lot of me. Dr. Brooks had been right. Survival forced people to make unnatural choices. I hesitated and then dared to ask: “There’s another Austrian sailing with us.”
“Yes. Miss Sigrid Stein. Do you know her?” My question had piqued his interest. And then, “She’s with a man from the United States. He’s from New York. Very successful, from what I hear.” He let the statements dangle, hoping I’d add onto them.
“They are in the cabin next to mine, but I haven’t met him.”
My simmering stress seemed to catch his attention. “I see things most don’t, and I suggest you steer clear of him.”
“Why is that?”
“I ask myself what he was doing in Germany and Austria until recently. He says he’s a businessman, but I always have questions.”
“Be careful what you say.”
“This isn’t Austria, Mrs. Werner. We can speak our minds here without worrying about a neighbor betraying us.”
There’d always been people watching the bookshop. Books were dangerous, and coupled with the gossip that my uncle was raising a Roma, they always spawned whispered rumors.
“That’s good to know.”
He leaned his large frame forward a fraction. “I can’t get into details. But best you avoid him.”
“I’ll do that.” I thought about the chief mate’s offer from earlier. “Perhaps I’ll take you up on your offer to escort me off the docks.” Sigrid would be hard pressed to get past a man as large as the chief mate.
He straightened his shoulders. “I would be pleased to do that.”
“Excellent.”
The ship’s bell’s clock chimed, indicating it was 7:00 a.m. “That’s my cue. I’ve got to get back to duty, Mrs. Werner.”
“Please call me Gertrude.”
He blushed slightly. “Gertrude. Call me Kevin. No one calls me ‘chief mate’ off the ship. Always feels a little formal.”
I doubted that. I could see he was very proud to have obtained the position. “I’ll remember that.”
He gripped the book in his large fist. “It was a real pleasure, Gertrude. Maybe I’ll see you again before New York.”
“I’m not hard to miss.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He studied the book. “Would you like to read this?”
“I can’t take your book.”
“I’ve got a lot of work between now and New York. I’ll get it back from you as we depart the ship.”
I accepted the book, noting the worn binding. “Thank you.”
“I’ll get you safely off the docks.”
“I’m counting on it.” When he left, it was a relief to be alone. As kind as Kevin seemed, I didn’t dare trust him or anyone too much. The dark-haired woman, Sigrid, was proof that the past lurked close.
After the chief mate left, I lingered on the deck. I liked the open air and the steady breeze that teased away memories. When I finally rose, my legs were stiff and my lower back ached.
“I was pregnant. The last months are very uncomfortable.”
I turned to see Sigrid staring at me. Her face was pleasant and soothing in some ways. But I’d never seen her worried or flustered.
Not a surprise she had a child, but I couldn’t picture her cradling a baby. She’d never struck me as tender, but rather cold and calculating about her latest deal.
She stood in front of me, blocking my view of the ocean. “Is it exciting? Or do you dread the child?”
I didn’t answer.
Her attention shifted to the rolling waters. “I think the rivers and the ocean brought us together. The waters know that, like you, I’m also willing to do what I need to survive.”
Alfred’s hold remained as tight as a vise. “I’m not giving you the child.”
“You’ll see the wisdom of the trade I offer, because I think you’re very much like me.”
We both shared Roma roots, but that was where the similarities ended. “We aren’t alike.”
“I was like you once. Young, idealistic. And then I learned life always forces very hard choices that can leave us on the losing side either way.”