Flight to the Lonesome Place (3 page)

“Don't know this section too well,” the man admitted. “Seems like I missed your corner somehow.”

“That's all right,” Ronnie hastened to say. “The house is just a little way through the alley yonder. I'll get out here.”

“Better let me drive you around, son. You shouldn't go in them places at night.”

“Oh, please don't bother! I—I don't want the folks to know I came home by cab. You understand—I'd have to explain so much.”

He was already getting out as he spoke. Now he hurriedly paid the driver and trotted into the alley with a display of assurance he in no way felt. Reaching a shed, he slipped behind it and crouched in the darkness until the cab was out of sight, then came out and began running like a frightened shadow in the opposite direction.

On his right the bridge made a huge, glittering arc across the sky. Directly ahead was the dark area he had noticed earlier. He thought the street would continue on through it, but it came to an abrupt end and he found himself stumbling along a path winding treacherously over broken ground between piles of rubble.

This obviously was not the right way to the wharf. But to find the main approach in the dark might cost him time he couldn't afford to lose. Besides, he could see the glow of lights from his destination some hundreds of yards straight in front of him.

Ronnie paused just long enough to take a small flashlight from his bag. With its help he hastened onward, running whenever he could. Presently he crossed railroad tracks, and suddenly found his way barred by a string of freight cars. He scrambled under the first car, and saw he was close to the long loading platform at the rear of the wharf's warehouse. It was the scene of loud and vast activity. On the other side of it the
Cristobal Colón
was still being loaded.

He slipped his flashlight into his jacket pocket, watched his chance, and managed to climb upon the platform without anyone's seeming to notice him. His first thought was to dart through the nearest huge doorway, and try to slip unseen around the piles of freight to the dock. Then he realized he would attract far less attention if he ignored everyone, and headed boldly for the ship as if he had a perfect right to go aboard.

The warehouse appeared to be acres in extent. He had never been in one before, and every few paces he was forced to leap away from one of the numerous little darting machines trundling freight to the shouting gangs outside. The noise and confusion grew as he neared the dock, and there it became bedlam. With the ship looming before him he stopped, momentarily bewildered by the racket and the swirling activity around him.

There was a yell, and a gloved hand jerked him away from a dipping cargo sling that could have brained him. A man who might have been a foreman said, “Watch it, boy! What are you doing here anyway? Are you one of the passengers?”

“Y-yes, sir,” Ronnie gulped.

“Then get aboard before you get killed.” The man raised his arm and shouted above the din, “Hold it, Mike! Let this kid up the accommodation ladder.”

Ronnie swallowed and darted across the dock. Hesitantly he started up the long, iron steps suspended from the vessel's superstructure. He swallowed again when he saw the burly figure in a white jacket waiting at the head of the ladder watching him curiously. If only he had been a little more careful, and waited for the right moment, he could have gone up the ladder unnoticed. But once on deck …

He fought down his sudden terror as he reached the top of the ladder, nodded to the jacketed man, and managed his best smile.

The man surprised him by smiling back and saying pleasantly, “Welcome aboard, son! I'm the chief steward. Getting here a little late, aren't you?”

“I—I had an errand to run,” Ronnie found himself saying. “Didn't they tell you?”

“Maybe they told Josip. He's the cabin steward. Have you met him yet?”

“No, sir.”

“Well, Josip's new. Our regular man's in the hospital. But Josip will take care of you. If you want anything, just ask him.”

“Yes, sir. Are—are there many passengers this trip?”

The burly man shook his head. “Too early in the season. You folks will probably have your side of the boat deck all to yourselves.”

“Boat deck? Is that the one the staterooms are on?”

“Right. It's just above this one.”

Ronnie thanked him, turned, and saw the companionway leading upward. He climbed thoughtfully to the next deck. He had no plan except to hide until the vessel was well out to sea. After that it didn't matter too much, so long as he could keep his identity a secret. The possibility that the ship might have a few empty staterooms hadn't occurred to him, but if he could find one without being discovered …

There were several people standing at the rail of the boat deck, watching the loading. He slipped past them and darted through a doorway on his left. A short passageway opened upon a longer one lined with doors. He paused, uncertain. Suddenly, hearing voices coming from the curve on his left, he darted to the right and prayerfully tried the first door. It miraculously opened, and he slipped quickly into the stuffy darkness beyond.

When his pounding heart had begun to beat normally again, he drew a deep breath, pulled off his jacket, and wiped his hot face with a handkerchief. Finally he reached for his flashlight.

The beam showed a small stateroom with a narrow bunk on either side. The place had several lockers, a shower and toilet compartment at one end, and a washbowl in a corner.

Then shock went through him as the beam fell upon a small traveling bag at the foot of one bunk.

Ronnie whirled to the door. Before he could reach it and leave, it was thrust open in his face. There was the click of a switch, and the place was flooded with light.

He found himself staring into the startled eyes of the tiny girl who had spoken to him at the Regency.

“Oh!” she gasped. “Oh! This is
my
stateroom. The captain said I could have it all to myself. What are
you
doing in it?”

“I—I'm sorry,” he faltered. “I didn't know it was taken.”

“But what are you doing here? Are you hiding from something?”

The question rattled him. As he struggled for words, her face suddenly changed expression. Her little mouth tightened, and her dark eyes rounded and became immense, hard marbles that seemed to have a force all their own. He was so surprised that he stepped backward, away from her. But he did not move fast enough to avoid her darting hand. Her fingers closed over his heavy glasses and snatched them off.

“Oh!” she whispered. “I thought so!”

He glared at her.

“And your blue hair,” she said. “It was only a wig?”

He shook his head and slumped down on one of the bunks. “I'm wearing a wig now to keep it hidden. And since you're so curious, I'm running away. I—I just ducked in here to stay out of sight.” Then he added bitterly, “Now that you know about me, I suppose you'll tell everybody I'm aboard.”

“Certainly not, you silly thing.” She turned swiftly to the door and locked it securely. Coming back, she gave him his glasses, then settled herself cross-legged on the opposite bunk. She studied him like a little owl for a moment, and said, “Something perfectly awful must have happened to make you run away.”

“It sure did,” he muttered. “How did you recognize me just now?”

“By your voice—and the trouble sign hanging over you.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“Don't you know what the
trouble
sign is?”

“I never heard of it.”

“Oh, dear.” She gave a sad little shake of her head. “And I thought you were so smart. If you don't know what the trouble sign is, it would be hard for anyone to explain it to you. It—it's something you feel. When I first saw you tonight at the Regency, it was so strong that it made me scared all over. That's why I
had
to warn you immediately.” She paused a moment, and asked, “When trouble came, why did you hide on the
Cristobal Colón?
”

“Because I remembered what you said about it, and I knew I had to get out of the country immediately. It's my only chance.”

“But haven't you any friends?”

“No.”

She stared at him in astonishment. “Not even one?”

“No. I've never had a real friend.”

She shook her head again. “How awfully lonely you must be! There was a time, a short time, when I didn't have a friend either. Oh, it was terrible. Then I found two.
¡Gracias a Dios!
Now I'm not quite so afraid.”

“But why should you be afraid at all? Haven't you got relatives?”

“Relatives!” Her face twisted as if she had bitten into a lemon. “I'd rather—”

They were interrupted by a sudden rattling of the doorknob, followed by an angry knocking on the door itself. A woman called indistinctly, “Ana María Rosalita?
¿Me oye usted?
”

The small girl slipped quickly to the door, but did not open it. “Yes, I hear you,” she replied in Spanish. “Please, Señora, why do you not leave me alone? I am
not
going back to the other stateroom. It is too warm, and the captain said I could have this one all to myself.”

There was a sharp exchange between the two. “Little monster!” the woman cried finally. “I will settle with you later!”

Ana María Rosalita stood a moment with her tiny hands clenched, but whether in fury or fright he could not tell. Finally she came back and again sat cross-legged on the bunk. Her pointed chin quivered.

“You see?” she said plaintively. “That is how it is. I am told to call her
tí
a—aunt—but the Señora Bretón is not really my aunt at all. She is Bernardo's aunt, and she will do anything he says. If he told her to drown me like a kitten, I am sure she would do it, and love it.”

“Who is Bernardo?”

She sniffed. “My very old half brother. He runs everything. He sent the Señora up to this country to take me out of school. I think they plan to send me back to Santo Domingo. Nothing has been said, but I know. I have the trouble sign.”

“Really? It hangs over you too?”

“Yes,” she said gravely. “It hangs over me, just as it does over you. Can you not see it?”

Ronnie shook his head, hardly knowing what to make of her. Then he became aware that the racket outside had stopped.

He got up suddenly, went to one of the portholes, and held the curtains aside. From where he stood he could not look down upon the dock, nor could he see much of the sky, for most of it was blotted out by the dark silhouette of a lifeboat. But he had a clear view of a small section of the lighted riverfront, and it seemed to be swinging slowly to the left.

The
Cristobal Colón
was under way, turning to head downstream.

“Hey!” he whispered. “We're leaving!”

“Oh, no!” she gasped.

“But don't you want to leave?”

She shook her head, and once more her pointed chin quivered. “I—I've been very unhappy in America, but at least I've been safe here. Now. I'll
never
be safe again.”

3

REWARD

RONNIE STOLE A QUICK GLANCE at his wrist-watch, and suddenly realized he should be hunting for an empty stateroom. Now would be a good time, for apparently most of the passengers were still on deck, watching the departure. But he couldn't leave yet. Ana María Rosalita seemed to be in as much trouble as he was.

“‘Never be safe again,'” he repeated. “What do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I said.” She looked at him miserably. “Oh, if I'd just been born a boy! Then everything would be so different. I could run away like you are doing, and take care of myself and hide. But when you're a girl—” Abruptly her face changed expression, and she added, “But maybe it's better this way. If I were a boy, I wouldn't be able to see what I can see, and do what I can do—”

“You sound as if you had an Irish grandmother,” he told her.

Her chin went up, and for a moment her grand manner returned. “Maybe I
did
have. But you sound as if you don't really believe in
any
of the things I got from her.”

Ronnie shook his head. “Don't get me wrong. It's just that, well, you sort of lost me when you started talking about magic.”

“But I thought you understood! Back at the Regency you—you said you knew all about magic, and couldn't get along without it!” She looked at him accusingly. “Boy Blue, did you tell me a deliberate lie?”

“Not exactly. I mean, I didn't intend to lie, but you caught me in front of an audience, and I had to say something, fast.” He ran his tongue over suddenly dry lips, wondering what to tell her. Secretly he thought most of the so-called magic was for the birds, and that Ana María Rosalita, with her talk of
hechiceras
, trouble signs, and the rest, was just being silly and foolish. Still, she had known he was in danger …

“Please,” he begged. “I—I'm not really as smart as people think. It's mainly my memory. And of course I have to bluff a lot, and pretend to know when I don't. But the truth is I—I don't know anything at all about magic.”

“Oh.” She just looked at him. The way she did it made him feel very small, almost as if he were shrinking.

“But I don't see why I can't learn,” he offered hurriedly. “And we might need each other's help. After all, we're sure in the same boat together.”

Suddenly she giggled. “We are in the same boat, aren't we?” Then she added gravely, “And naturally there's a reason for it.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Oh, there's a reason for everything. You were sent here for a reason, Boy Blue.”

“No one sent me. I came to save my neck.”

“Of course you came to save your neck, silly! But you were sent here just the same. And maybe the reason is that we both need help, and are supposed to help each other.”