I Will Fear No Evil (61 page)

“Filter’s okay, was just a clog in makeup feed line. Kelp. No huhu.”

“Has the surgeon tested the water?”

“Safe.”

“That’s good. Tom, when I was a kid, striking for quartermaster third, we used to swim off the boat booms and thought nothing of it. But today even the Pacific Ocean can’t soak up all the crud they dump into it. You can put swimming call on the bull horn and take the Skull-and-Crossbones sign off the pool.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“Half a second while I make eight bells.” Jake reached out with his left hand, picked the last touchplate of a row of eight; the quadruple double
Bong!
marking the beginning of the forenoon watch rang through the vessel. He then picked still another touchplate and sounded swimming call himself. “Tom, if a man didn’t have to eat or sleep, he could sail this wagon around the world by himself. Three men could do it easily. Even two.”

“Maybe.”

“You sound doubtful, Tom.”

“Even one man could, sir—if nothin’ never went wrong. Something always does.”

“I stand corrected. And with two pregnant women aboard—three if you don’t keep a close eye on Eve—”

“Oh, Dr. Garcia got her on the junior pill. I don’t take no chances, sir.”

“So? Tom, my respect for you—high—has just increased. She’s safe from her Uncle Jacob . . . but I make no promises about any other male in this bucket. There is something in salt air that hikes up the metabolism. And there is much truth in the old saw about ‘when they’re big enough, they’re old enough and nothing can be done about it.’ Better to roll with the punch.”

“She is and she has and we did—I had this here talk with the Doc. Hester and me don’t expect no more from Eve different than we did ourselves. Anybody knows when a broad starts getting broad she’s goin’ to land on her back.”

“Yes, everybody knows it—yet most parents don’t believe it when it comes to their own kids. I know, I had a family law practice for years. Tom, you’re such an allaround sensible man I’m surprised that you ever got in trouble.”

His sailing master shrugged. “Comes o’ believing what I was told, sir. ’M chief officer of this rust bucket and Captain says keep my lip tight and see nothin’ and we make ten times as much on one voyage. All fixed. Only he got smart and hung onto the bribe money hisself. Thought he could run it in the dark. You‘da thought he’d never heard of radar.
Wham!
Coast Guard.” Finchley shrugged again. “No complaints, sir, I was a fool. But two years and four months and I get this much better job driving for Mr. Smith-as-was. Smellin’ like a rose. Not so trusting now, is all. Don’t trust too much, you don’t get your ass burned.”

“Yet you don’t seem cynical. Tom, I think the major problem in growing up is to become sophisticated without becoming cynical.”

“That’s over my head, Counselor. I just think people are okay, mostly—even that silly skipper—if you don’t strain ‘em more than they’re built for. Like that piece of standing rigging there. Rated three tons. Pro’ly take five and no trouble.
Don’t
put six tons on it.”

“We’ve said the same thing, I think, but your illustration is vivid. Beat it, Tom. If there’s no work to be done, grab sack time. Or pool time.”

“Yes, sir. I want to inspect the starboard hull; it’s making extra water. Pump can handle it but I want to know
why
.” He touched his cap and swung down off the platform.

Jake cocked his own cap against the sun, relaxed and started to sing:

“ ‘A sailor’s wife a sailor’s star shall be!

“ ‘You ho, we go, across the sea!

“ ‘A sailor’s wife a sailor’s star shall be,

“ ‘A sailor’s wife his star . . . shall
be
!”

His wife climbed up behind him and kissed the back of his neck. “Is that for me, dear? Or for ‘Nancy Lee’?”

“Always for you, my darling. Besides, I can’t remember the part with ‘Nancy Lee’ in it.”

“I wonder if you ever remember a girl’s name. You call all of us ‘darling.’ ”

“Merely because it’s true. But you are the only one I call
‘my darling.’
And I do remember your name—it’s ‘Salomon.’ ”

“Jacob, you must have been a prime menace when you were a bluejacket. With that Hebrew blarney you could talk your way into anything. Then out of it, with no trouble.”

“No, Ma‘am, I was a sweet, innocent lad. I simply followed the ancient code of the sea: ‘When the hook’s up, all bills are paid.’ ”

“Leaving little Jewish bastards behind in every port . . . and thereby improving the breed. How about Gigi? Going to improve the breed there?” She dug her thumb into a spot over his hip where his slight pot bulged out from sitting “Some dish, eh, keed?”

“Madam,” he said haughtily, “I do not know what you are talking about.”

“ ‘Tell that to the Marines, the old sailors won’t believe you.’ Jacob my love, I feel certain that you know the second Mrs. Branca almost as well as you knew the first. But I have no wish to prove it; I simply offer my congratulations. Gigi is a darling, I love her to pieces. I was not throwing asparagus.” (Tell him she squeals, twin.) (I will not!)

“Woman, you get your exercise jumping at conclusions.”

(Then tell him it happened where Troy Avenue crosses Gay Street, near the Square—a neighborhood
you
know well, twin.) (Eunice, I want Jacob to feel easy about such things—I am
not
trying to harpoon him.) (You aren’t equipped to, Joan; Jake is the original Captain Ahab.) (Eunice, you have a dirty mind.) (
Whose
mind? I don’t have one. Don’t need one.)

Mrs. Salomon dropped the subject, opened her sextant case, took it out.

“Will you give me a time tick, darling?”

“Are you going to shoot the defenseless Sun?”

“I’m going to do better than a Sun sight, dearest. The Sun, the upper limb of the Moon, and—if I’m lucky and can spot it again—Venus, for a three-star fix. Want to bet on how small a triangle I get?”

“Even money on fifty miles for the short side.”

“Beast. Brute. Cad. And me an expectant mother. I was more than ten times that close yesterday evening; I’m getting the hang of it. I
could
cheat—I could get a point fix by querying Point Loma, then fudge it on the chart.”

“Eunice, why this passion to emulate Bowditch? One would think that radio and satellites and the like had never been invented.”

“It’s fun, darling. I’m going to hit that nav exam for a flat four-oh and get my limited license. After I’ve unloaded this pup in the hopper and we no longer have to stick to coastal waters, I’m going to do a ‘Day’s Work’ every day all the way to Hawaii. Betcha I make landfall at Hilo under three miles. Oh, it’s not necessary, dear—but what if it turned out to be? Suppose war broke out and everything went silent? Might help to have a celestial navigator aboard. Tom admits that he’s hardly taken a sight since he got his mate’s ticket.”

“If he ever took one. Yes, it could be useful, my darling . . . because if war broke out in earnest and we were at sea, we would not go on to Hilo. We would make a sharp left turn and go south and get lost. The Marquesas. Or farther south, the farther the better. That way our kid might live through it. Easter Island if you think you can hit it.”

“Jacob, by then I’ll split it right down the middle. Or any island you pick. Sweetheart, I wasn’t playing games when I asked for the whole old-fashioned works—all the charts, all the pilots, three key-wind chronometers and a hack, this lovely sextant and a twin like it in case I drop this one . . . and please note that I
always
put the lanyard around my neck. All the H.O.s and the Almanac. I’m no use as a deckhand now—so I decided to become a
real
navigator. Just in case, just in case.”

“Mmm. My darling, I hope we never have to run for it . . . but have
you
noticed that I keep this vessel fully stocked at all times even though we anchor almost every night and can shop for supplies any time we wish?”

“I’ve noticed, sir.”

“Nor is it an accident that I gave Doctor Bob an unlimited budget and saw to it that he equipped for any conceivable obstetrical problem.”

“I did not notice that, quite.”

“You weren’t meant to, nor was Winnie—no need to give you gals something to worry about. But since you have been doing the same sort of planning ahead, I decided to tell you. Bob used the time the ‘Pussy Cat’ was being refitted in taking a refresher in O.B. And he spent twenty times more money on our sick bay than one would expect for a seagoing yacht.”

“I’m pleased to hear it, sir. With such foresight, money can do almost anything. Except turn back the clock.”

“It even did
that
in your case, beloved.”

“No, Jacob. It gave me added years . . . and this wonderful body . . . and
you.
But it did
not
turn back the clock. I’m still almost a century old. I can never
feel
young the way I once did—because I’m
not
. Not the way Winnie is young. Or Gigi. Jacob, I have learned that I don’t
want
to be young.”

“Eh? Are you unhappy, dear?”

“Not at all! I have the best of two worlds. A youthful, vital body that makes every breath a sensuous joy . . . and a century of rich experience, with the wisdom—if that is the right word—that age brings. The calmness. The long perspective. Winnie and Gigi still suffer the storms of youth . . . which I don’t have and don’t want. I’ve forgotten the last time I had a tranquilizer but I think it was the day they unstrapped me. Jacob, I’m a better wife for you than either of those two lovely girls could be; I’m older than you are, I’ve been where you are now and understand it. I’m not boasting, dear; it’s simply true. Nor would
I
be happy married to a young man—I’d have to spend my time trying desperately not to upset his delicate, youthful, unstable balance. We’re good for each other, Jacob.”

“I know that you are good for me, my darling.”

“I know I am. But sometimes you have trouble remembering that I am
not
truly ‘Eunice,’ but ‘Johann.’ ” (Hey! What is this, Boss? We’re
both.
) (Yes, beloved, always—but Jake needs to be reminded of Johann—because all he ever
sees
is Eunice.) “For example, Jacob, a while ago you thought I was twitting you about Gigi.”

“ ‘Thought,’ hell—you
were
.”

“No, dear. Close your eyes and forget that I have Eunice’s voice. Think back at least ten years when I was still in passable health. If your older friend Johann had twigged that you had kicked the feet out from under some young and pretty woman, would he have twitted you?”

“Huh? Hell, yes. Johann would have slipped me the needle and broken it off.”

“Would
I have, Jacob? Did I
ever
?”

“You never caught me.”

“So? I-might have congratulated you, Jacob, just as I did today—had I felt that I could do so without offending you. But I would
not
have twitted you. Do you recall a young woman whose first name was—or is—Marian? Last name had the initial ‘H’—your pet name for her, ‘Maid Marian.’ ”

“
How
in the
hell
?”

“Steady, darling—you let your helm fall off. That was sixteen years ago, just before I asked you to spend all your time on my affairs. So I ordered a fresh snoopsheet on you before I put the deal up to you. May I say that the fact that you had dealt so carefully with
her
reputation was a strong factor in my deciding that
I
could trust you with anything, too?—including my power of attorney, which you have held ever since and never abused. May I add, too, that I
wanted
to congratulate you on both your good taste and your success as a Lothario?—for of course I then had to have
her
snooped, too, and her husband as well, before I could entrust
my
grisly secrets to you. But—also of course—I could not say a word.”

“I didn’t think any part of that ever showed.”

“Please, Jacob. Do you recall that you once told Eunice that you could hire a man to photograph her in her own bath—and she would never know it? As we’ve noted, money can do almost anything that is physically possible. Part of that snoop report was a photograph of you and Marian in what you lawyers call a ‘compromising position.’”

“Good God! What did you do with it?”

“Burned it. Hated to; it was a good picture and Marian looked awfully pretty—and you looked all right yourself, you lovable old goat. Then I sent for the head of the snoop firm and told him I wanted the negative and
all
prints
now
and no nonsense—and if it ever turned out that even one print had escaped me, I would break him. Get his license, bankrupt him, put him in jail. Were you or Marian ever embarrassed by such a picture? Blackmail, or anything?”

“No. Not me—and I’m morally certain she wasn’t, either.”

“I guess he believed me. Jacob, do you still think I was twitting you about Gigi? Or was I congratulating you?”

“Uh . . . maybe neither. Maybe trying to wring a confession out of me. It’s no go, wench.”

“Please, Jacob. Stipulating that I was mistaken but sincere—which was it? Now that you know how I behaved about Marian.”

“Eunice—
Johann!
You should have been a lawyer. Subject to that stipulation, I concede that it must have been a sincere congratulation. But one I can’t accept, I haven’t earned it. Now, damn it, tell me how you came by this delusion.”

“Yes, dear. But not this minute; there comes Gigi herself.” Joan put her sextant back into its box. “Sights will have to wait anyhow; this reach has taken us in so close I’ve lost my horizon for the Sun. Hi, Gigi, you pretty, pretty thing! Give us a kiss. Just me, Jake is on watch.”

“I’m not all that busy. Eunice, hold the wheel.” He accepted a kiss while still seated, then took the helm back from his wife.

Joan said, “Been swimming, dear?”

“Uh, yes. Joan Eunice, could I see you a minute? Mr. Salomon, would you excuse us?”