Odyssey Of Angels by Joan La Blanc

Author:Joan La Blanc [Blanc, Joan La]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Northampton House
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

***

At eleven, she combed her hair, swiped on fresh lipstick and met Mark in the wardroom. Proceeding aft, they descended ladders to H Deck. The ward had been cleaned and disinfected, was hushed and dark except for emergency bulbs in their tiny cages. First they went to the quiet room that had been Armistead's, sat on the bed and read his entries again. For her, they were no less painful than they'd been at first reading. Then, retracing the route Mark had used when he'd given the tour, they climbed ladders to the fantail and emerged into the night.

At the stern, a light glowed above the Stars and Stripes whipping in the breeze. The deck was littered with coiled lines, chains, canisters and unrecognizable pieces of equipment, the light so dim someone who didn't know the area might trip, especially on a stormy night. This sea was slick, the swells shallow; still, someone unfamiliar with the ship's routine lurches and shifts might be unbalanced.

From the flagstaff amidships, the wake five decks below was a maelstrom behind the flared stern. Salt tang prickled Anna's nostrils, though the air flowing over the vessel also brought the pungency of cigarette smoke and stale coffee, and the omnipresent oily, metallic fumes of overheated machinery. Easy on such a night to picture other dramas played out here when this had been the P&O liner SS Maui: couples clinging, kissing, stirring up passion, then racing to their staterooms to indulge it. The contrast with what had happened to Roger Armistead was chilling.

"Want to say anything before we drop it?" Mark asked.

She could have used a thousand words, but said instead, "Well, only… I'm sorry we couldn't help him."

"Same here," he muttered hoarsely. "Lord knows, I regret that."

Without further ceremony, he tucked the magazine around the notebook, leaned over the rail and let it go. They stared down for the fragment of a second it tumbled into the boiling prop wash and was sucked out of sight.

Anna said, "I feel like singing Eternal Father."

As they mouthed the words, she thought first of Commander Stark at Jean's funeral, then of the memorial service she'd planned but never held for Dan. His memory had receded, yet this night they were connected by the same ocean, and the death of another man whose physical remains would be assimilated by the same primitive elements. She wished she could speak her heart to Mark, but sensed he was subsumed in his own mysteries, too personal and private to share.

After a few minutes, he looked up from the sea, turned from the rail and held out his arms. "Now. Can I hold you awhile? Or is that too much to ask?"

She shook her head and came into his familiar embrace. At first, his lips were on her cheek. Until she turned so they connected. For a moment longer, she was strong and self-assured, but then fatigue and the experience they'd shared combined to make her kiss an invitation to more primitive sharing.

He slipped

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