“Not quite that big but they will be pretty soon.” Duval closed his eyes for a moment. He had found that closing his eyes for a moment or so was very restful. It soothed him to do this. He was not at all worried, of course.
The light from the electric bulb overhead shone on his eyelids, and he could see nothing but red with his eyes shut, a warm clear red. He thought of the colorful bayou land of Louisiana. Usually he did not care where he was, but he did like color and there was no color in the Aleutians, only light and shadow on rock and water. The Chief opened his eyes.
Hodges was biting his thumbnail. The Chief watched him. He wondered what he might have done if he had been as well educated as Hodges. Probably the same things. Life was about the same for all people; only the details varied.
“I hear they expect the big wind around midnight,” said Hodges.
“That’s what Evans says. He don’t know, though. He guesses just like the rest of us do. We guess, we all guess and most of the time we’re wrong.” The Chief enjoyed discrediting Evans occasionally.
“Well, it should be some sight. I’m glad I’ll be able to see it.” One of the deckhands laughed.
“You won’t like it so much,” said Duval. “Even though these blows up here aren’t nothing compared to what we used to have in the Gulf.” The crew laughed. Anything that could keep their minds away from the coming storm was good.
“What’s happened to the Chaplain?” asked Duval.
“He’s in the salon. I expect he’s feeling bad. He doesn’t take to this sea business at all.”
“I suppose I’d better go see how he is.” Carefully Duval got to his feet and walked across the deck. He slipped once and swore to himself as he did. His balance wasn’t as steady as it had once been.