iii
Morning came whitely over the harbor. The water was oily calm. A small Navy boat went through the channel and the crews of the different boats began to stir about on the docks.
Bervick walked down the deserted street of the village. The houses looked unlived in. There was no sign of life away from the docks. His footsteps sounded sharp and clear in the emptiness of the morning.
He thought of Angela and felt sick at the memory of her making love in a torn silk dressing gown, her frizzled red hair hanging stiffly down her back. Olga was so much cleaner. He would not think of Olga, though.
The ship was already awake. The crew was straggling up out of the focs’le. He could see Evans moving around in the wheelhouse. Martin was out on the forward deck.
“Have a good time?” yelled Martin when he saw him.
“Sure. Don’t I always?”
“Sure.”
Bervick climbed aboard and stood beside Martin who was adjusting the hatch cover.
“Who were you with last night? Olga?”
“No. I was with Angela.”
“That pig?”
“I know it.” Bervick sighed and began, for the first time, to recall Angela’s large torso. “She’s got a nice personality,” he said absently.
“Don’t they all?” said Martin. He kicked the edge of the canvas into place. “Let’s have chow.”
Evans was sitting alone at the table when they came in. He muttered a good morning. They sat down.
Bervick was hungry. He ate even the cold-storage eggs, which Smitty invariably served them and which they seldom ate.
Martin looked up. “Say, Evans,” he said, “what’s this story I hear about John Jones? You know, the Indian guy from Seldovia.”
“He killed himself.” Evans pushed himself back from the table and teetered his chair on the deck.
“What went wrong?” Bervick was interested. He had been on a power barge with Jones.
“He drank a bottle of methyl alcohol last night.” Evans made himself appear bored. He always did when anyone they knew died.
“Well, what did he do that for?” Evans irritated Bervick sometimes. Evans always wanted to be asked things, as if he were an authority.
“The girl he had back in Seldovia, an Indian girl, she left him and gets married. She writes him about it and he locks himself up in the head and drinks this stuff. They found him around midnight. He looked pretty awful they said. I guess he took the girl too seriously.” Bervick knew the last remark was intended for him and he did not like it. He would not kill himself for a woman, not himself, that was certain.
“That’s life,” said Martin helpfully. The Chaplain and the Major entered the salon. Both were cheerful and both looked rested. They announced that young Hodges was still asleep.
“We played poker for a little while last night. Where were you, Sergeant? We needed an extra man.” The Major spoke genially to show that aboard ship he was not conscious of rank.
“I was visiting friends in the village, sir.” Bervick shifted uneasily in his chair.
“They have a fine old Russian church there, don’t they?” asked the Chaplain.
“Yes, they do.”
“Very interesting, these old churches. I suppose one can’t go in the church here.”
“I think it’s locked until the war’s over,” said Evans. “The priest was evacuated.”
“Such a pity,” the Chaplain complained. “I should like to have seen it.”
Duval and his assistants came up from the engine room. The first assistant, a short heavy man, was splattered with grease.
“What’s the matter?” Evans asked.
“Just a little trouble with the auxiliary again. It’ll be O.K. I think. Just go easy on them winches. I been up since five working on this damned thing.” Duval gestured with his hands. Bervick wondered when he had left Olga.
“Good morning, Bervick,” said Duval genially. “Did you sleep well last night?”
Without answering Bervick left the salon and went in the galley. He could hear the Major murmur words of surprise and he could hear Evans change the subject.
Martin joined Bervick in the wheelhouse. “What’s bothering you?” He asked. “You aren’t still sore at the Chief because of that Norwegian animal?”
“Maybe I am. That’s my business.”
“You’re acting like a half-wit. Before you know it, the Chief’ll get Evans to throw you off the boat.”
“That’s fine by me. I don’t know if I want to be around that guy.” Bervick gave the bulkhead a vicious poke.
“You’re getting a little crazy in the head.”
Bervick shrugged. “I’m not the only one, I guess.”
“Well, you better not bother the Chief very much or there’ll be some real trouble one of these days. Anyway I can’t see how you managed to get so hot and bothered over Olga.”
“That’s my business.”
Martin looked at Bervick and saw that there were harsh lines about his mouth. He was fingering his long hair.
“I guess it is,” said Martin finally.
Evans came whistling into the wheelhouse. He was followed by a Captain, the Assistant Superintendent of the harbor.
“Are we sailing?” asked Martin.
Evans nodded. “Just as soon as the Captain here gives us clearance.”
“The weather...?”
“According to the Navy,” said the Captain, examining some papers in his hand, “according to the Navy you will encounter heavy weather near the Agan cape. Twenty-foot sea at the worst. Fair visibility and not too much wind. Of course you realize at this time of year anything can happen.”
“There are no planes leaving, are there?” asked Evans.
The Captain shook his head. “Not for a week anyway. This is about the quickest trip for the Major.” He handed Evans an envelope. “Here’s your clearance and the weather report in detail. See you on your way back.” The Captain left.
“Were off,” said Martin. He looked out over the still harbor. “I guess it will be a good trip. Hope so, anyway.”
Evans looked at the gray sky. “There’s a lot of snow up there. Go tell the Major that he can’t fly. He wanted to know.”
Martin and Bervick went below together. They found the Major in the salon, filing his nails. He looked inquiringly at them.
“No planes leaving, sir,” said Martin. “They’re still weathered in.”
“Well, that is too bad.” The Major seemed cheerful. Bervick decided that Major Barkison liked the idea of a three-day trip. “Will we leave soon?”
“Right away.”
“Good.”
Bervick and Martin met the Chaplain in the companionway. The Chaplain was not particularly pleased at the idea of a boat trip, but he decided to be hearty and take it like a good sport. “Well, that will be nice. I have always wanted to do this sort of thing. We never were near the ocean in Maryland. That is, Maryland was near, or rather on, the ocean, but we weren’t. This’ll be quite an experience for a landsman.”
“It will,” said Martin.
“I hope I shan’t have a repeat performance....”
“Not if you eat plenty of crackers. Will you excuse us, Chaplain?”
“Of course.”
They could hear Evans ringing Stand By. Together they went out on deck. The men on watch were already there.
“How do you want to go?” Martin shouted to Evans in the wheelhouse. Evans put his head out the window.
“Let everything go at once!”
Two seamen from one of the power barges stood by their lines on the dock.
“O.K.,” said Martin. “Cast off.” The crew began to pull in the lines. Bervick went aft and helped handle the stern. Martin waited while the men coiled the lines. Then he yelled to Evans, “All free!” He could see Evans nod and go to the telegraph.
The ship swung slowly away from the dock. The wind blew damply and gently in their faces. The sea gulls circled high overhead.
Bervick joined Martin on the forward deck. They watched the bow of the ship cut with increasing speed through the dark and rippled water.
“It looks awful quiet, don’t it, Martin?”
“Does look quiet. I hope it stays that way. The weather didn’t look too good in the report.”
“Didn’t look bad?”
“No.”
“I wish to hell I’d stayed in the Merchant Marine.”
“It’s tough all over.”
“Yeah.”
“We better see what Evans wants. He’ll probably want to hose down the decks.”
“Yeah.”
As they turned to go, Bervick reached in his pocket and brought out a bundle which he tossed quickly overboard.
“What was that?” asked Martin curiously.
“Some old rags.”
“Oh.” They went below.
The bow of the ship cut more and more swiftly through the harbor and toward the nets. The gulls wheeled higher and higher in the sky, and on the crest of one wave floated a pink piece of cloth, decorated with the words To My Sweetheart ... and a map of Alaska.