Chapter Thirty-Two Gertrude
Chapter Thirty-Two
Gertrude
Minutes until the Oceanus is torpedoed
I was eating the last of the breakfast Dr. Brooks had left for me. Several times I heard heavy footsteps outside my door, and I suspected they were William’s. Whoever was there paused and seemed to lean close as if listening. I could feel eyes staring at me through the wood.
The baby kicked hard in my belly, forcing me to stand.
I walked to the porthole, pressing my hand to the base of my back.
My stomach had grown agitated over the last couple of days.
The child wasn’t due for another seven weeks, and I wasn’t sure if this was normal or not.
If I’d had my mother or another woman I could talk to, I might find out, but my mother was long passed, and I didn’t dare try to contact anyone.
As I stood at the porthole, waves rolled high around the ship. They rose and toppled as the vessel cut through the water.
Several passengers had finished lunch; I could hear them moving down the corridor, and then doors closing and silence. I turned from the porthole. How many times in Vienna had I seen others lost and afraid, clinging to hope? Keep moving.
As I crossed the room, I felt a large jolt.
It caused me to miss a step, and I nearly fell forward.
I reached for the bunk to steady my pear-shaped body.
The ship often rocked, but I’d never felt an abrupt jolt like this.
I stood still, listening for signs of distress. Seconds passed. A hush stretched.
Assured the vessel was fine, I turned toward my bunk to rest. I was again mid-step when a siren blared and echoed down the empty hallway.
Dr. Brooks had warned me to heed any alarm. And Dr. Brooks had told me to get familiar with my life jacket. I hadn’t done that. For the first time, I reached for my flotation device, then slipped it on over my big belly. I let out the straps several inches before I could fasten the side ties.
The alarm’s painful shriek was unnerving. Excited voices in the passageway blended with hurried footsteps. The ship was in trouble.
I grabbed Sigrid’s and my identity papers and tucked both in an oilcloth sack beside A Farewell to Arms and my few remaining loose diamonds. I checked the knife in my pocket and, despite my better judgment, grabbed the coin Dr. Brooks had given me.
If the ship hadn’t been struck, the precaution might be for naught. I tucked the pouch inside my bodice.
This couldn’t be the end of my life. I had come so far.
In the hallway, a growing tide of passengers dashed into their rooms and then hurried out likely with life jackets and whatever items they could quickly shove inside their pockets.
Realizing I couldn’t stay in my room any longer, I opened my door to the chaos and stepped into the fray.
I kept my head ducked, praying William and Sigrid cared more about their own survival than me.
Several people wrestling with suitcases bumped into me, jostling me sideways and forward.
None looked back or offered an apology. It was a sea of panic.
I maneuvered through the current of people and climbed the stairs.
An explosion blasted from somewhere in the boiler room, and the ship tipped hard to the left.
Passengers screamed, and the ones ready to hurry down the stairs toward me hesitated.
Did they have time to reach their life jackets, or should they stay on deck?
I gripped the banister and continued up the stairs. As I reached the top, my stomach cramped so violently, I doubled over. Two men and a woman pushed past me. I breathed deeply. The noise around me faded as I focused on calming my body. “Not now. Not now.”
Finally, the cramping eased, and I stood upright.
I climbed to the top level and stepped out of the portal.
I looked around and saw that so many had gathered on the deck.
Artillery shells roared from the top deck as the sailors stationed at the large guns fired toward the rolling sea.
Another woman bumped into me. I would have pitched forward onto the deck if strong arms hadn’t grabbed ahold of my arm.
When I looked up, William grinned. “Careful. It’s dangerous up here.”
I tried to jerk away, but he held tight. “Let go of me.”
“Not yet, Frau Gruber. First, we must get you to a lifeboat.”
My hand slid to the knife in my pocket. I gripped the handle.
The deck sloped left. The gears designed to lower the lifeboats on that side had been partly destroyed.
William tightened his grip on my arm and pulled me toward the lifeboats sailors were now uncovering.
Other passengers were gathering around, and several crew members forced them back so that they wouldn’t rush the first lifeboat. People clamored and pushed.
William yanked me forward through the crowd toward the front. “She’s pregnant. She should be first on the boat.”
I faced him. And in a swift impulse, I jammed the knife into his side. The blade met with resistance as the tip grazed a rib. He looked at me, astonished.
“The kitten has claws,” he growled.
I released the handle, leaving the blade in his midsection. He yanked it clear, his fingers now red with dark blood.
Several people paused and looked in my direction, but no one noticed William. Some stepped aside for me. When I reached the lifeboat, a crewman lifted me and set me in the boat. William swayed, but he stepped forward ready to follow. Then he was blocked.
“Women first,” Chief Mate Riggs said.
“I need to stay with her. I can help her,” William insisted.
“Mrs. Werner, do you need his help immediately?” Chief Mate Riggs asked.
“No,” I said.
“Then sir, you won’t board yet.” The sailor’s hand dropped to the service weapon on his hip. “Back away.”
William glared. His fingers gripped the knife at his side. He jerked his coat forward, hiding the blood bloom on his white shirt. “No need to worry, Gertrude. I’ll find you.”
Anger tightened his voice, and I knew I would suffer if we saw each other again.
“Don’t worry about him,” Chief Mate Riggs said. “Stay in the boat, and I’ll take care of the rest.”
I nodded toward Chief Mate Riggs. “Thank you.”
There was no sign of Sigrid or Dr. Brooks as more women were helped into the lifeboat.
In the chaos, the lifeboat still had several empty seats as it lowered.
It carried only ten women and a young sailor, who looked as terrified as the passengers.
The metal cables suspending the small vessel jerked.
The gears turned and lowered the vessel.
The sailor signaled for the mariner on deck to keep lowering the boat.
I recognized Mrs. DuPont huddled at the opposite end of the lifeboat.
We were halfway down the tall ship when the Oceanus rocked again. The lifeboat banged against the ship, and I pitched sideways. The hard, wet metal of the hull brushed my shoulder. I peered down a narrow gap between the boat and the ocean as we dangled above the choppy waters.
Just as quickly, the ship tilted deeper, and the lifeboat shifted violently.
The women around me screamed. I pressed my hand against the life vest and felt the metal coin under the fabric.
I looked up toward the overcast skies, determined not to ask for help from a being who had tricked me so well before.
The cable on the mechanisms above us shifted, and we fell a couple of feet quickly toward the ocean. We hit the water hard. My hand went to my belly, and I leaned forward as another cramp tightened my midsection. Women screamed. Some wept softly.
A hand rested on my shoulder. Mrs. DuPont now appeared at my side. She was oddly calm as her chin rose in defiance. When she met my gaze, I saw a confidence I wouldn’t have expected of her. “Chin up, Gertrude. We’ll be fine. Your baby will wait until we are safely ashore.”
I nodded, silent, as the spasm eased. “The baby is coming.”
“Is this your first?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Good, the first ones take longer.” Her gaze was determined, as if her order would make it so. “First things first. The sailors need to get us away from the ship. Once we’re clear, then we can figure out the rest.”
Cold ocean air washed over my face, chilling my flushed cheeks. I nodded.
Mrs. DuPont shifted closer to me. “How often does your belly cramp?”
Breathing deeply, I willed my body to hang on. “Every couple of minutes.”
“That’s not the kind of answer I want to hear,” Mrs. DuPont said gently. “Tell your impatient little miss or mister to hold tight.”
I gripped my belly as if I could stop it from expelling the child. “I’m not sure he’ll listen.”
Above us, the other two lifeboats were filling. I pictured William finding his way into one of the boats. I hoped I’d wounded him badly. At least my very impatient baby would be born soon. I could give the child to Mrs. DuPont. And if I was forced to return to Alfred, I would do it alone.
A wave smacked the lifeboat. I lurched forward and barely caught myself. Water splashed as the small vessel pitched back and forth. The sailor set the boat’s motor in the water and cranked on it until it started. He steered the lifeboat away from the Oceanus.
I looked up toward the deck and saw Dr. Brooks standing close beside Sigrid. They were speaking intently, and then he looked in my direction. Their intense gazes floated down to me.
The Oceanus suddenly listed badly farther to the left, and the couple’s terrified expressions came into focus. The lights on the deck flickered as if the generator struggled against rushing salt water. The guns kept firing rounds. Crew members loaded more passengers into the boats.
The U-boat wasn’t in view, and it could be anywhere now, circling, ready to finish off its prey.
We’d been warned so many times about their relentless hunting.
But each day the ship had crossed more miles and as we had come within a day’s sailing of New York City, I’d begun to think we’d escaped the underwater dangers.
I remembered the map Chief Mate Riggs had shown me, and I pictured the jagged coast of North Carolina. How far away was it?
Another explosion inside the Oceanus rocked the interior. Through the shattered portholes, smoke billowed. Above, passengers screamed and shouted. More freshly fired lifeboat engines pulled hard against the sinking ship’s undercurrent.
Mrs. DuPont took my hands in hers and rubbed them until they warmed. “See how lucky we are?”
“Lucky?”
“We’re alive, my dear,” Mrs. DuPont said. “And we have hope. The rest we’ll tackle one step at a time. How is the baby?”
“My belly is calm for now.”
“Good.”
Another lifeboat slapped against the water. More people shrieked. Black smoke billowed from the guns’ barrels as they fired more shells at a spot on the horizon.
“Gertrude!”
A breeze carried my name, and when I looked up, Sigrid was in the third lifeboat. Sitting up tall, she scanned the boats, searching for me. Rising and falling waves gave us some cover, but still I ducked and turned my face away from her.
“Gertrude!” Sigrid’s voice skimmed over the rolling waves.
A chill skidded over my nerves. I thought about her alliance with William and then pictured her huddled close to Dr. Brooks on the deck.
“Why is that woman calling out to you?” Mrs. DuPont asked. “She appears worried.”
“She’s not my friend,” I said. “She remembers me from Vienna.”
Mrs. DuPont absorbed my stricken features and then looked again toward Sigrid’s imposing frame. “She’ll have to go through me first.”