The Sky Beneath Her(60)

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.”