Chapter 11
The clock ticked on the wall. It was just a few minutes before four A.M. when a hand picked up the satchel sitting at the end of the couch. Quietly the dark figure opened the clasp on the satchel and pulled out the contents. He flipped through the small stack of papers, examining each one closely by the dim light coming from the window. Rego started to stir on the couch and turned over onto his side. The dark figure quickly slid the papers back into the satchel and then walked over to the kitchen chair, still sitting near the TV. He turned and faced it to the couch. The sound of the creaking wooden chair awakened Rego. He pulled the chain on the small lamp next to the couch and sat up on his elbow. He looked towards the chair to see Luis.
“Interesting little case you have here,” Luis said very smartly, sitting on the chair with the satchel on his lap. Rego stared at him with suspicion and disbelief. “Now I see why you are such a popular guy. I think it’s time you and me had a little chat.”
Rego slowly sat up on the couch. “I’ve got nothing to say to you. Give that back to me, it’s mine.”
Luis knew he had Rego now. His suspicions had been confirmed. “Now I see why those government men were after you. They’re agents, aren’t they?” he said cleverly.
“I don’t care who they are, they mean nothing to me. Now give that back to me!” Rego grew more impatient.
“Do you really think I’m going to let you out of here with this? No way, kid. This little jewel is coming with me down to the authorities,” he said as he stood up. “I’m not going to let you bring all this trouble into my family’s home!”
“Oh no, it’s not!” Rego jumped off the couch and reached for the satchel. He struggled with Luis but he could not pry it from his hands. Luis shoved him down to the couch.
“What’s going on in here?” Carlos demanded as he came from his room.
“Nothing, Papa. Rego was just leaving for his ship,” he said hiding the satchel behind his back.
“He’s lying! He is trying to steal my stuff!” Rego protested, throwing on his clothes. He picked up his jacket and the uniform Doc had given him.
“Is this true, Luis? What are you taking from him?” Carlos insisted.
“He’s hiding secrets from his own government. He’s putting us all in danger, and I won’t stand it for it! He’s been staying here, a perfect stranger, taking advantage of us, acting as if everything is fine. But Carlo and I know what’s going on. He’s running from his government and he’s hiding secrets from them!” Luis yelled.
Rego ran behind Luis and snatched the case from his hands. Francesca and Doc came out into the sitting room to see what was going on. “I’m not hiding anything!” Rego insisted. “This belongs to my uncle, it is his business! I am only delivering it for him.” His voice was shaking. He wanted out of there as soon as possible. “I won’t trouble you anymore. Or you either!” he snarled at Luis.
“You’re not going anywhere, punk!” Luis grabbed his arm.
“Let him go!” Carlos said sternly. Luis released his arm. “His business is none of ours. You go do what you need to do,” he said to Rego. “He is wishing to go in peace and we will let him.”
Rego looked at Francesca and Doc apologetically. “I will never forget your kindness. I thank you.” He took one last stern look at Luis and turned and walked out the door.
Rego rushed down the stairwell and dashed out of the building and down the street. He ran all the way down the darkened streets to the port. The port was brightly lit and busy with workers. He found an old public bathroom just outside the port and went inside to change into the uniform. He stuffed his old clothes into the satchel, paying little attention to the papers inside. He didn’t care what Luis had found. He was going to honor what his uncle had requested, no matter what.
He stepped out of the bathroom wearing the white uniform and black trousers. He walked down the busy boardwalk to the Montenero. Rego was amazed at the shear size of the ship as he walked closer. He spotted the walkway that led to the main deck of the ship. He climbed his way to the main deck where a man in uniform stood with a clipboard.
“Sir, you are the first mate?” Rego said with confidence.
“That I am, and who might you be?” the first mate asked.
“Rego Ouliveyra, sir. I am reporting for duty in the galley. Sorry I am late.”
The first mate looked him over and stared at his uniform. “ID, please,” the man said in a tired voice. Rego dug into the pockets of his jacket and pulled out his identification papers and handed them to the man. The man flipped through the papers quickly and then handed them back. “Crew cabins are on D and E deck. Stow your gear and report to the galley on E deck immediately. You will be on time, from now on, mister!” He stepped aside and let Rego come aboard.
Rego found the stairs that led to each deck. He couldn’t help but notice how nice the ship was. It was decorated very ornately and stylishly. The walls were covered with decorative wallpaper and trimmed with polished wood. All the handrails on the steps were polished wood as well. The walls in the stairwell were bright and clean white and the steps were bright red metal. The Montenero was completely different from the drab cargo ship he had sailed on from Lima. He smiled at his good fortune. He was happy to be on this ship and was eager to find out what his duties would be. He knew the nice uniform he had been given was his ticket away from the mop and bucket.
It was almost a quarter past five A.M. when Rego came upon a door on E deck that read COCINA. He pushed the double doors open and found the kitchen to be electric with activity. People were rushing around everywhere preparing breakfast for the ships new passengers who had just come aboard a few hours earlier in the night. The room was full of stainless steel counters, sink tops, large white refrigerator and freezer doors and black stoves. Kitchen utensils, pots, pans and a variety of other mixing tools, hung from stainless steel racks on the ceiling. It was worlds away from the kitchen Rego saw on the ship from Lima. Workers rushed around Rego who was standing just inside the doorway. Some bumped into him without even batting an eye at him and rushed past.
“What are you doing just standing around?” a firm voice boomed from behind him. Rego quickly turned around to see the kitchen manager and head steward, Hector, standing over him. He was easily a foot taller than Rego. He had dusty blonde hair and thin wire glasses on. He spoke in an accent Rego hadn’t heard before, but still in clear enough Spanish that he understood.
Rego straightened up his posture and tried to speak over all the clutter. “I am Rego Ouliveyra. I arrived late, sir, but I am reporting for galley duty.”
“I’m Hector Van der Berg. I’m the head honcho around here. From now on, you report for duty at four-thirty every morning for breakfast detail and four P.M. each afternoon for dinner detail. Got that?” Hector ordered as he strolled through the kitchen, inspecting each area. Rego nodded quickly and tried to keep up. “I’ll put you on tray and table detail since you are new. We have a small breakfast offering before the set-sail festivities on the Main deck. Is this your gear?” Hector pointed towards his jacket and satchel. Rego quickly nodded again. “Get it out of here. The kitchen crew barracks are down that hall and to the left,” Hector said pointing towards a small door in the back of the kitchen. “Be back here in five minutes!”
Rego quickly walked through the small door and down the narrow hallway and followed the signs above his head to the crew cabins down the left hallway. He had no idea which door to open. The hallway was lined with at least twenty doors, one for each cabin. He slowed his pace in the hallway and looked at each door. They were all the same. He finally decided to knock on one of the doors with the number eleven on it. He waited for a few seconds but no one answered. He slowly pulled on the door handle and opened the door slightly.
“You coming in or not?” a muffled voice said from inside
the cabin. Rego slowly peered around the door and into the dimly lit cabin. A figure lying on a bunk covered with several blankets, briefly lifted his head. He took a quick glance at Rego and turned over to face the wall again. “Great, another new guy,” he said sleepily.
Rego looked around the small cabin. There was another bunk above the sleeping man and two small lockers beside them. He turned to his right and saw another single bunk along the inside wall with a small locker next to it as well. The locker had a key stuck in the keyhole with a thick strand of string hanging from the key. A small mirror hung on the far right wall and one chair in the corner. “Are any of these bunks free?” Rego asked shyly, not wanting to disturb the man in the bunk.
The sleeping man lifted his hand from underneath the blankets and pointed towards the single bunk on the inside wall, “That one is,” he said without looking up. “Knock yourself out.”
Rego put his things down on the bunk and looked at the locker. “I can use this locker here?” he asked again.
The man in the bunk rolled over finally to look at Rego. He looked at him like he was a madman. “Yes, use it!” He sat up on his elbow and realized he was being a jerk. “Sorry, man. I was out all night in Colón and my head is killing me. I’m Bolo,” he said reaching his hand out. “Keep the key with you, it locks when you turn it and then you just pull it out.”
“Rego,” he said shaking Bolo’s hand. He knelt down in front of the locker and examined how it worked.
“I don’t go on duty until ten, I work lunch and the midnight cabin detail. Is Van der Berg riding everyone’s ass yet?” he asked as he rolled over on his back.
Rego immediately remembered he had to be back in the kitchen right away. “Damn, I forgot I have to get back. I’ll let you sleep. Sorry for waking you.” He quickly threw his jacket and the satchel into the locker and turned the key. The key slid out and he looked at the thick string dangling from the key. It finally dawned on him to wear it around his neck. He stared at the key for a few seconds, then down at the locker. It was the first time he had put the satchel down to leave it behind. He knew it would be safe in the locker though. He threw the key around his neck and stuffed it under his white uniform. “See you, Bolo,” he said and dashed out of the room.
Rego walked back into the busy kitchen. He wondered where he should go for the tray and table detail. It didn’t take him long to find out though. As he walked through the kitchen, he saw large stainless steel serving trays being loaded with eggs, potatoes, fruit and a variety of other dishes, and carried through another set of double doors on the other side of the kitchen. One by one, they were being carried out. Rego stood in line and picked up a tray of potatoes and followed the person in front of him out of the kitchen. He immediately saw the fancy dining room lined with tables with white linen tablecloths, clean glasses and rolled up napkins containing eating utensils. The ceiling was decorated with finely ornate chandeliers. The floor was nicely carpeted and the chairs were perfectly polished. Rego couldn’t believe his eyes as he took in the sight of everything. He stepped over to the buffet line and placed the steam tray into a slot next to the tray full of eggs.
He soon realized that passengers would start entering at six A.M. for breakfast. He was amazed at how much detail and effort was put forth for the morning meal and the ship hadn’t left the port yet. The food smelled wonderful to Rego and he was aching to take a break and eat some of the food that he continued to carry out.
He paid attention to other workers to see what he should do next after the buffet line was set. Over by the far wall of the dining room, some of his co-workers were lining up against the wall and stood motionless with their hands behind their backs. Rego decided to walk over and stand with them. He glanced over at the tall, slender man standing next to him. The room was empty but all the workers stood against the wall, saying nothing.
The tall man finally broke his silence and said, “You’re new here, aren’t you?” still looking forward. It was a language Rego had never heard before.
Rego glanced at him, not understanding. “Hm?” he asked.
The slender man then spoke in broken Spanish, “New here?”
“Oh, yes, I am.”
“I’m Lars, from Holland. Sorry, my Spanish is not so good,” Lars said quietly.
“Rego, glad to meet you. I’m from Brasilia,” Rego whispered back.
“Sorry, my Portuguese is even worse than my Spanish,” he whispered, trying not to be noticed. Rego shrugged his shoulders. “Never talk to the passengers in the dining area. Just pick up the plates when they are done. Fill the glasses with water if they are less than half full. No problem, right?” Rego nodded to him. “This will be a quick meal, a good one to learn on, no? They will want to get to the party outside when we set sail.”
One of the girls standing in line put her finger to her lips and said, “Shh!” Lars stopped talking and he and Rego stood against the wall and waited for the dining room doors to open.
The clock hanging above the dining room doors read six o’clock exactly. The doors were opened by two attendants in black jacket suits. Soon, a few passengers began to file in the dining room towards the buffet line. As time went on, more and more passengers began to come in. The room looked as though it could hold hundreds of passengers, for it was the main dining room. The noise level in the hall began to rise as more and more people came in for the morning meal. The dining room attendants, one by one, began to leave the wall and take plates and glasses away and walk them back to the kitchen clean-up window. Others walked around with pitchers full of water, filling glasses when they saw them less than half-full. Others carried hot pots of coffee, refilling cups for the coffee drinkers. All of them worked without saying a word, only nodding yes to the passenger’s requests. When there were no plates to take away or glasses to refill, they returned to the wall and waited for more. Once a party left their table, another set of workers came behind them and reset the table with fresh linens and dinnerware. It was a very efficiently run show.
Rego got the hang of the job right away. He didn’t know if he liked waiting on the elite passengers, but he was certain he liked it much better than mopping.
Soon, the last of the passengers started to leave the dining hall. Breakfast ended early, just after seven, due to the passengers wanting to get to the main and promenade decks to take part in the send-off party. Other attendants began to leave the wall and slowly pick up the plates and glasses from all the tables. After the passengers had left, a more casual atmosphere descended upon the workers. Some began to talk with one another as they worked. Rego stacked some plates and glasses and carried them over to the wash window. Lars came up behind him with his hands full too.
“Not bad for a dry run, eh Rego?” he asked in his broken Spanish.
Rego nodded back to him, “Not bad. Man, I have never seen so much food.”
“You get used to it. It costs a pretty penny for these hotshots to travel like this, and of course, not a penny is spared on the food,” Lars said going back for more dishes. “We’ll get to eat after we clear off all these tables. We have our own tables in the kitchen area.”
Rego was glad to hear that. He had worked up an appetite running around to all the tables, while he watched the passengers eat the delicious looking food. He put down another stack of plates at the window. “Do we get to watch the ship set sail?” he asked curiously. He was eager to see the festivities when the ship pulled away. He thought about old movies he had seen, watching happy travelers pull away on crowded ships, throwing streamers down to the docks, yelling and cheering and waving goodbye to people below.
“Yes, but you have to change into civilian clothes. And, you can only watch from the promenade deck. On the send-offs and the main deck parties, we are not allowed on the main deck,” Lars instructed him.
“Are you going up?” Rego asked him.
&n
bsp; “Nah, I’ve seen my share of send-offs. You go ahead,” Lars replied.
Rego was so excited about watching the ship set sail, he totally forgot about his hunger and skipped the morning meal with his co-workers. He did not have to work during lunch, so he figured he would grab a bite to eat then. He really didn’t want to eat that much food anyway. He couldn’t believe the amounts of food that were brought out for just one meal.
He threw on his old clothes and tried to pat his hair down as best as he could. He casually walked up to H deck, which was the promenade deck, and made his way over to the starboard side and found a spot on the rail. The decks were wide and the wood floors were spotless. He smiled and shook his head and thought to himself, I pity the poor bastard who has to clean these decks. He felt vastly underdressed compared to the mobs of passengers milling around on the deck but he tried to keep a low profile and tried to find a nice spot tucked away from the crowds. He stood near the rail very close to the stern. He could see the vast length of the ship and could barely make out the bow way down at the other end of the dock. He could hear the steam venting from the stacks above but could not see them. The best view was obviously from the main deck. But he knew he would get up there soon enough.
The crowds began to gather close to the starboard rail and started to cheer when the whistle blew from the main stack on top of the ship. Confetti and streamers began to sail from the decks above and below and they cheered wildly when the ship began to pull away from the dock. Rego stared at the scene in amazement. It was just as he had seen in the American movies in the old movie houses with Rosa. He sorely wished Rosa was here with him to witness this wonderful event. His heart began to feel sadness as the passengers cheered their departure. He thought about his poor grandmother mourning the death of her brother. He yearned to be with her and comfort her. But Rego also thought of his uncle and the quest he had mysteriously sent him on. He wondered what it all meant and why Rosa insisted that he continue on. He looked up at the mighty ship that started to carry him to his destination. I’m finally on my way, he thought. He nodded to himself in disbelief, as a single tear ran down his face.
The Brazilian Page 11