The Sky Beneath Her(63)

It was after four in the afternoon when I opened the next dusty file box. I must have sifted through a dozen by now, and I wasn’t feeling very hopeful that I’d find anything other than more legal papers, utility bills, or meeting notes from the town of Southern Shores’ planning commission.

But as soon as I opened the box, I recognized the faded type of the yellowing manuscript pages. The first page read, “Chapter Six, page 51.”

A rush of adrenaline surged. I lifted the sheets, bound with a large rubber band, and retreated to my bed.

The type was dense, and as before, the writer told me more about maritime shipping dangers during World War II than I’d ever expected to know. As tempted as I was to skim the pages and rush forward in the story, I didn’t. Now that I was only miles from the wreck, its last voyage was resonating stronger with me, and I didn’t want to miss a detail.

The author opened the sixth chapter by describing an incident Captain Stoddard had weathered as he’d sailed south off the Outer Banks shores in late December 1941. The freighter was fifty miles from shore when one of his men spotted a German U-boat. The ship’s guns fired a barrage of shells, striking the water near the submarine. For whatever reason, the enemy vessel didn’t take a shot and allowed the ship to pass. Captain Stoddard assumed that the U-boat was out of torpedoes and had headed back to its French port to restock.

Captain Stoddard reported the danger to his officers, who all agreed to keep the incident a secret. The supplies these vessels were carrying now were too vital to the Allied war effort. Risks had to be taken. Regardless of the dangers, once he was assigned to the Oceanus, he swore to do all he could to ensure the ship reached Cape Town to drop off its passengers and then load its hull with a load of raw materials and munitions.

I was growing tired, and if I wanted to keep reading, that would mean coffee, which would mean waiting on the percolator and then no sleep tonight. And sleep, as I’d learned, kept my anxiety at bay.

After flipping through the pages to the end, I found passenger and crew lists. The names were alphabetical and listed the passengers’ home cities. I scanned the lists. The youngest crew member was seventeen; he was a navy sailor and would be over a hundred years old today. No doubt all these people were dead by now.

Chief Mate Riggs, born in 1920, was twenty-two at the time of the sailing. I did a quick search of his name, and his obituary appeared. He’d died in 1990 in a Norfolk hospital at the age of seventy. The obituary described a decorated sailor who loved the water and who had sailed it for nearly fifty years. The obit mentioned a wife, Margaret, who had died in 1978, and a son who’d been a merchant marine.

My phone rang, and when I saw Nathan’s name, I almost laughed. “Do you have radar?” I asked.

“I know you. You never were a good sleeper. Have you found the rest of the manuscript?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“Lots of intel on U-boats. Captain Stoddard was the focus in the latest pages. Weird to be reading about dead people when they were in their prime.”

“I can’t wait to read it.”

“Soon.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “Hey, you did a good job yesterday.”

I rubbed the nape of my neck. “You didn’t notice my terror?”

“We’re all scared at one time or another. The point is you were there.”

“Any reviews from your travelers?”

“A few texted. They liked the trip, and they all appreciated your help.”

I laughed. “I can hand out water bottles with the best of them.”

“Tony gave you a glowing review. I think he’s in love with you.”

“We fear-bonded. The ocean scared him, and it still terrifies me.”

He chuckled. “Did you ask Kaitlin about the next trip?”

I was so tempted to tell him work demanded me, but it didn’t. “She said I was free to go. But she wasn’t crazy about it. In trade for the time off, I’m handling the supply run on Monday afternoon so she can have the time to prep for her surf camp.”

“Supply run?”

“Cleaning supplies, linens, and towels.”

“Exciting stuff. Think you can handle it?”

I chuckled. “What can I say? I live dangerously.”

He cleared his throat. “I was wearing my camera yesterday. I have new footage of the Oceanus if you want to see it.”

The idea of seeing the ship again was both thrilling and terrifying. My nerves had never really calloused when it came to that ship. “Yesterday was a warm-up, I suppose,” I said. “You never serious-dive with customers.”

On his own, he’d have taken more risks and explored the wreck more closely. “Exactly. I can’t focus too much on the ship with the other divers going in all directions.”

“What’s the weather look like for your Monday dive?”

“It’s clear in the morning. Possible chance of afternoon showers.”

I drew in a breath. “And you’re still going?”

“You know how it is down here on the Outer Banks. Rain predictions can mean it showers twenty miles north or south of you.”

“That’s what Mom used to say. She said if the rain wasn’t hitting her face, she didn’t believe it.”