Bervick scratched his long hair thoughtfully. “I don’t think this thing’s going to blow up for a while.”
“I don’t either. We better just hope that we’re near a good bay when it does. I expect well get the big wind tonight. It’s taking a long time getting here.”
“That’s what I like.” Bervick looked at the black unchanging storm center. “Maybe we’ll miss the whole thing.”
Evans smiled. “No chance, bucko, we’ll get all of it. Right in the teeth, that’s where we’re going to get it.”
“I wish I never left the Merchant Marine.”
“You got a hard life.”
“That’s what I think.”
“Don’t we all.” Evans made his mouth smile again. He tried to be casual.
His ex-wife would get his insurance, he thought suddenly. He remembered that he had not changed it from her name to his family’s. He chuckled to himself. Everyone would be surprised. She would be surprised to get it; his family would be furious for not getting it. His father had four other sons and an unproductive farm. The insurance would be useful to them. He had not seen his family for seven years but sometimes they wrote to him. His mother always wrote. She was an educated woman but his father had never learned to read or write. He never felt there was much advantage in it. Evans thought of his family. His mind raced from person to person. He tried to recall how each of them looked. This was a good game that he often played with himself. It kept his mind off things that were bothering him, off storms, for instance.
Evans thought of his wife. She was a nice girl. If he had met her at any other time than during a war they might have been happy. He did not know her very well, though. He could not decide whether their marriage would have been any good or not. He wondered what she was doing now and where she was. He felt rather sad that he had not had time to know her better. There were others, of course. There was consolation in that.