by James Walker
I broke away and looked up at his face. Tears were streaming down his cheeks.
“It’s so very good to see you, Collin. You must forgive me, it’s just…well, I miss your father so very much.” Then he added softly, “I’m sure I always will.”
There it was, out in the open. My father was gone.
Charles Frohman was dead.
2
Uncle Will quickly dried his eyes on his sleeves and gave me another quick hug. With a genuine smile on his face, he said, “Come. Come, Collin. Let’s have a seat. We have so much catching up to do!” Taking me by the arm, he led me towards a set of stone benches and a small café table, which overlooked the river. “I’m sure Ozaki will be out shortly with refreshments.”
It was only then, I realized Ozaki had slipped away. He was as quiet and devious as a cat at times. We settled into our seats and William took out some cigarettes and offered me one, which I gratefully accepted. After lighting up, we both sat back and Uncle Will smiled at me. “My word, Collin, but it’s good to see you! I’m so glad you came for a visit. I haven’t seen nor heard from you since…”
“the funeral.” I finished for him. “I know. I’m sorry I couldn’t spend more time with you then, but there were so many people coming and going.”
“Your father had a lot of friends.”
“But you were his very best friend.” I pointed out. “I guess I was just numb at the time.”
“We all were,” he said as he reached over and patted my arm, “I was in a fog for months. Nearly drove Ozaki to drink!”
“Ah!” he said, “Speak of the devil!” I swiveled my head to see Ozaki walk up to us, bearing a tray with beverages and a covered plate.
Ozaki, bless his heart -- put a ice-cold ale in front of me and a glass of some dark fizzy drink in front of William. The plate held a few crackers, along with some cheese and sliced fruit. After he laid everything out, he picked up a mug of what I knew was tea and sat down with us. Ozaki then put the palms of his hands together in front of his face and bowed from his waist, “I cannot tell you how sorry I am for the death of your father, Master Corrin. My English isn’t good enough to convey the respect and admiration I had for Charles. It was a senseress act.”
“A senseless act of mayhem!” William said with a vehement tone. “One that will drag our country into war.”
“Do you really think so?” I asked. I wasn’t so sure about that. A lot of folk were talking about keeping out of this conflict. I hated to think about the consequences of that. I had already lost two family members to this war and America was still sitting on the sidelines.
“Absolutely! I have it on good authority we will declare war on Germany before the month is out. Next month by the latest!” His eyes narrowed. “I won’t say I’m not happy about it either! The Huns need to pay for their butchery!”
On that, we agreed.
My father was on a trip to check on his investments in England and Europe aboard the HMS Lusitania, when it was sunk by a German U-boat on May seventh of last year. He was among the nearly twelve hundred passengers and crew that lost their lives in the Celtic sea off the coast of Ireland. The Lusitania was my father’s favorite passenger ship and his usual mode of transportation when he went to England.
As if he were reading my mind, Wiliam said. “I’m so sorry he was on that particular voyage. I tortured myself for months for encouraging him to take that trip.”
“You shouldn’t beat yourself over it, Uncle.” I said firmly. “Dad had that trip planned for months. I’m just glad you weren’t on board with him. I couldn’t have survived losing both of you.”
“And what word do we have of your brother. Is there any news? I know your mother and sister have gone to see him.”
I nodded. “Yeah, they left a few days ago, but we haven’t heard anything more from the doctors. Charlie’s still in a bad way.”
My brother, Charlie was lying in a hospital bed somewhere in London, half burnt and without the use of his arms and legs. He was the oldest of us siblings and the heir apparent to our father’s theater business, a burden that now rested on my shoulders and half the reason I had come to see my Uncle.
After my father’s memorial service last June, Charlie’s grief turned to anger and a thirst for revenge. He hated the Huns for murdering innocents and vowed to ‘fix their wagon’. As fate would have it, Charlies Frat brother at Harvard- Norman Prince- had formed an American squadron in France, called the Lafayette Escadrille. Really just a few pilots that wanted to fight the Germans in the sky. Before any of the family knew what was happening, Charlie had bought his own aero plane and learned how to fly. He joined the squadron just last month and on his first patrol was shot down by a German Ace. Charlie managed to bring the plane down, but the wings collapsed, and the plane crashed into a vineyard and burst into flames. Luckily, some workers pulled him from the burning wreckage, but he was scorched over half his body and his neck was broken. The last telegram we received from the hospital was less than hopeful for his recovery. William and Ozaki already knew all this, as they kept in regular correspondence with my mother and sister.
As for myself, I was torn between being devastated for the brother I loved and angry that he left me in this position.
“Damn fool lost his head!” I groused. “Thinking he could bring he Kaiser to his knees with a plane. He was mad as a hatter!”
“Baka!” Ozaki said, swatting me on the forearm closest to him. “He acted with honor! Do not be angry that your brother fought against injustice.”
I was about to snap back at him but caught myself. As when I was a boy, I was still cowed by that stern expression on his face.
“What I think Collin is trying to say, Ozaki, is that Charlie might have gone off to war with some false assumptions.”
That piqued my interest. “Have you heard some of the same rumors as I have, Uncle Will?”
He shrugged, “I have heard it…bandied about, that munitions were smuggled on board in mislabeled barrels. That is why the U-boat targeted the Lusitania.”
I leaned forward, “This is straight from the horse’s mouth, a guy I know who runs a loading crew on the docks. Over twelve THOUSAND barrels of ‘pork’ and ‘Cheese’ were loaded into the holds of the Lusitania just before they let the passengers check in. That’s a lot of bangers and mash wouldn’t you say?”
“Indeed”, he replied. “and if true, someone should be held accountable for that act of irresponsibility.”
I sat back and sighed. “Yes, they should. But it still doesn’t change the outcome.”
With that, we all fell into a remorseful silence. William looked out over the river for a long minute then slowly turned his head to face me. “Collin, before you arrived, I had debated to myself whether I should tell you this story. I do not wish to open any wounds, yet you will probably hear it at one point or another and I wish you to hear an accurate version.”
“Go ahead, Uncle Will,” I replied. “I can take it.”
He smiled sadly and spoke,
“A few weeks ago, I had a visit from an actress. A Miss Rita Joviet. She was a passenger on the Lusitania that trip and one of the few survivors. She was with your father when he …was lost.”
Ozaki saw the look on my face and swore, “BAKA! Don’t say it like that”, he hissed.
“I won’t dignify that by responding,” Uncle said sternly to his man, “Now get your mind out of the gutter!” Ozaki stuck his tongue out at him and that broke the tension.
“Back to the story: When the ship was struck and began to go down, your father went up to the promenade deck. When someone asked him what was happening, he replied ‘This is going to be a close call.’ But while others tried to jump to the lifeboats and others abandoned ship, your father and some nobler men stayed back to wrap as many of the smaller children as they could in life jackets. He showed them how to tie two together and secure the toddler in it, so they would float upright.”
“Moses baskets!” I cut in,
“I remember Pop-Pop talking about them once.”
William nodded, “When they had finished, the ship was almost completely under. Your father was left on deck with a millionaire, a Captain Scott, and the woman who told me this story, Rita Joivet. She said your father was calm and seemed at peace with his fate. He lit a cigar, took a swig from his flask and passed it on, saying, ‘What is death-but the greatest adventure life gives us!’. Then the final wave broke over the deck and they were separated. Only the woman survived.”
I smiled. “Peter Pan. Dad loved that play.” Then I grabbed his hand, “Thank you, Uncle William. I’m glad you told me. I’ve…well…I’ve had a hard time with Dad’s death.”
“Of course!” Ozaki said. “You should be proud of your father. He died with great honor.”
Uncle Will gave him a side look and added, “Yes, Collin. You should be happy to know your father kept his wits about him and helped others before himself.”
“It’s not that. I am just happy he got a last drink and a smoke in!”
Ozaki spit out his tea and nearly choked.
Uncle laughed like a loon. “You’re absolutely right, Collin. We’ve been missing the big picture!”
We sat for a moment then Uncle Will tapped the table with his finger, “I do confess to one enigma that occurred to me after Miss Joviet left us.”
“What’s that,” I asked.
He shrugged, “I don’t mean to be crass, but I wondered why Miss Joviet managed to survive, while your father did not. She confessed that she wasn’t a particularly good swimmer, but the wave that swept them from the deck carried them past the suction of the ship sinking and she was quickly assisted by a lifeboat. Your father, on the other hand, spent his whole life by the sea and I knew him to be an excellent swimmer. Strange that she survived, and he did not.”
I really didn’t want to rehash it any further and I had never shared this fact with anyone-even my family- but Uncle Will had a special relationship with my dad, so I let him in on a little-known fact.
“I can solve that riddle for you, Uncle. I read the coroner’s report on my father and he didn’t actually drown. The back of his head was crushed. Probably he hit it when he was swept off the deck. It read that he likely died instantly.”
William took that in then slowly nodded his head. “Thank you for sharing that, Collin. I…I have often prayed he didn’t suffer.”
He shook his head and smiled brightly. “Gentlemen! That is enough maudlin talk for the time being.” He pulled out his pocket watch and murmured, “If I’m not mistaken…”
A dinner bell rang from somewhere inside the castle. “AH! Lunch is served!”
We all stood and Uncle Will announced, “First we shall eat, then you get the nickel tour! How does that sound.
“Grand,” I assured him, as we headed into the Castle.
3
My first impression of the great room was that it looked less like a castle hall and more like a fine hotel lobby. I was surprised how cozy it was, nothing as large as the outside would suggest. Unless you happened to look up. The ceiling rose far above the second floor and was high enough to fly a kite under.
One wall was dominated by a massive fieldstone fireplace, its top disappearing into the darkness of the upper floors. It was flanked by entryways on the right and the left to what I assumed was a conservatory, considering the moisture beading on the inside of the glass panes. The French doors we came in, a set of windows, and a player piano took up another side of the room.
Across from the fireplace were two sets of circular couches set into the walls, spaced apart, and a door that led to another room. Above that was an open hallway with a railing that ran the length. I could see a few more doors up there.
The side directly across from where we came in had more hallways running off from it and a set of stairs that led to the second floor. Wherever there was open wall space, William had hung rattan mats or tapestries, mostly depicting cats. More of these also hung from the massive wood beams that ran from one end of the room to the other,
There were a few couches, easy chairs, and lamps, making a snug sitting area near the fireplace, but the feature that stood out was a massive carved oaken round table that had chairs around it. It was so ostentatious I wanted to ask my Uncle if Sir Galahad was coming to lunch also.
Uncle Will gave me a few moments to drink it all in and asked, “Well, Collin, what do you think of my humble abode?”
I smiled, “Humble, Uncle Will? It may be humble for the Tsar of Russia, but I think it suits you perfectly. Majestic, yet warm and inviting.”
He beamed with joy. “That is precisely why you are my favorite godson.”
I gave him a sideways look, “I’m your ONLY godson, Uncle Will.”
“Ha!!” He chortled. “Never dissect a compliment, Collin. They are all sarcasm on one level or another.”
I shook my head in bewilderment. “You have been spending too much time with Ozaki.”
He laughed. “And speak of the devil,” as he pointed to the staircase where Ozaki stood at the top. “Why don’t you let Ozaki show you to your room and you can freshen up before lunch. I’m sure the girls will have the table set by the time you return.”
I didn’t really need to freshen up, but Uncle Will was a stickler for formalities and I did need to empty my bladder. I thanked him, then crossed the room and went up the stairs. Ozaki led the way down the open hallway. As I followed him, I looked down into the great room and thought it would be a bully place to watch people if William had a party, which certainly he would in the future. He cherished his privacy, but every now and then, he crammed his entire social life into hosting some very fancy parties. In the past, they were usually held on the Aunt Polly, his yacht, or he might rent a place, but I was sure he would be anxious to show off his new home to an elite group of friends. A hiss from Ozaki, who was far ahead of me now, broke my daydreaming, and I hustled past a few doors to catch up with him. He opened the door he was standing next to and stepped aside.
The room I entered was modest. The stone was covered by wood and rattan and it was sparely furnished. There was comfortable bed, an armoire, and a desk like table with a chair. Nothing too lavish, but it had its own fireplace and a window, with a magnificent view of the river and woodlands.
My luggage hadn’t arrived from the train station, but the clothes I had in my saddle bags were neatly hung, with a fresh shirt and pants laid out on the bed. I don’t see how he could have found the time to go out to my motorcycle, empty the saddle bags, and bring them up, since we were together almost the entire time. But I had given up trying to figure him out a long time ago. He had been amazing to me and my family for all the time we had known him.
“Next door is a guest bathroom,” he informed me. “Do your business before you wet yourserf and wash up for runch. After you change, come down. Do not rorry- gag! We are hungry.” With that, he slid out of the doorway and disappeared, leaving me shaking my head in amusement. Seven or twenty-seven years old, Ozaki would always treat me the same.
I was shipshape in no time, so I headed down to join the gang, but when I peeked over the railing, the only one at the table was Uncle Will. Ozaki and the girls were still putting the food together, so I walked slowly and took in the surroundings. There were some more doors that led away from the staircase.
The door closest to the staircase happened to be open and I glanced in. It was nearly an exact duplicate of my room. Neat as a pin and free of clutter, the only way I knew it was occupied was by a pair of slippers by the bed, a portrait of a beautiful young woman that hung over the bed, and the combs, brushes, lotions and oils that were neatly lined up on the dressing table.
I suddenly realized that it was my Uncle’s room! I had seen other pictures of the woman that was in the portrait. She was Helen, Uncle Will’s wife who left him a widower a long time ago. It kind of turned my brain sideways when I thought about him, living like a monk. Here was a man prone to flamboyancy, professionall
y and personally, and yet he spent most of his alone time, in such a spartan existence. I suppose, from what I had read of my father’s stories, a man of his intellect is his own best stimuli.
Uncle Will was reading a small newspaper and was so absorbed he didn’t notice me coming up alongside him. It wasn’t until I greeted him, did he fold the paper and put it on the table.
“Well, Collin, how do you like your accommodations?”
“Fine, Uncle Will, I’ll be quite comfortable.”
“Excellent! The room is yours, stay as long as you like, whenever you like.” He smiled at me with a glint of mirth in his eyes, “Consider it a part of your inheritance!”
Before I could thank him, Ozaki burst out of a hallway carrying a large round wooden object and spitting Japanese over his shoulder. A tall, matronly woman came, the object of his tirade, came right on his heels, pushing a serving cart that was loaded with dishes.
“Don’t you take that tone with me Ozaki!” She chided him, as she came to a stop. She put her hands on her hips and took a deep breath, “And I’ve told you time and again- I do not appreciate you talking that gibberish at me! You’re embarrassing us in front of our guest!”
Ozaki set the lazy susan on the table with a grunt and winked at me before he turned back to the woman and really let loose with the jappo talk. She stood her ground, shaking her finger in his face until William stepped in.
“Ozaki! Behave yourself! Why must you provoke her? What will Collin think of us? I…”
The rest of his words were lost to me when a skirt came out of the hallway, carrying a basket of bread and a handful of serving utensils. She was a pretty girl, not in an exotic way, or even as glamourous as the women I had met in the theater. She was fairly average with all American features, creamy white skin, deep blue eyes and her hair pulled back in a pony tail. Still, I had to warn myself not to ogle her, for she had a striking figure, with a slim waist and ample bosom. She seemed about my age. What made her truly beautiful was her smile. She was grinning from ear to ear and she just rolled her eyes at me as she stepped around the other two to put her load on the table. She wiped her hands on her apron and beamed at me, holding out her hand.