Cruise to Mayhem

by David P. Remy

  “Huh? A ride? Ahhh. Ok. I feel so drowsy, Breath.” First, Breath helped Sam sit up and then she put his legs over the side of the bed. Breath positioned the wheelchair and, with little help from her patient, settled Sam into it. Her schooling as a geriatric nurse had trained her how to best manipulate the body of someone infirmed.

  She first checked to make sure that the passageway was clear. It was deadly quiet. Silent as a morgue. She pushed him out the opening of the cabin. She found the door marked “CREW ONLY” and maneuvered her human cargo through it. Inside this passageway she used the crew elevator which took them down to the lowest deck that offered an outside promenade overlooking the open ocean.

  It was late and surprisingly very quiet in the crew area. No party or bingo for the crew that night. She was lucky. No witnesses need apply. She pushed the wheelchair as fast as she could out onto the walkway along the safety rail of the ship. Quickly, she wheeled the chair with Sam to the middle of the aft of the ship where the engines were producing their usual roiling swell of dark water with white swirls trailing behind fading into the total darkness of night.

  “Why are we here, Breath?” Sam’s medicated condition continued to imprison his state of awareness. He was dazed and confused. Breath was not. She was as clear headed as she had ever been in her life.

  Breath was lifting Sam up waist high over the railing as she spieled out her death sentence. “Sorry, Sam, but you just can’t be available to tell anymore of the story.”

  As he felt himself being tipped over the top of the rail edge, Sam desperately tried to hold on, but he had no strength in his arms of skin and bone. Breath bent down and took his ankles in her hands and lifted him up high enough that the weight of the body mass propelled him over the railing like a rag doll. Her nursing skills had become the instrument of Sam’s capital punishment. Florence Nightingale would turn over in her grave.

  There was no sound as he hit the boiling water. Sam became a mere part of the swirling foam. He was instantly sucked below the surface into the dark beneath by the undertow. Breath watched as the body bobbed up and under a couple of times. Then, it was pulled under by the churning of the wake. Gone…forever.

  Tears formed in her eyes as she watched the ship steam away from the man overboard, slipping into the pitch-blackness of his eternal night. “Join Davey Jones’s locker, Rolf S. Stuttgar. You’ll fit right in with all the other scurvy dogs down there.”

  She grabbed the wheelchair and just as quickly as she had made her way to the death scene, she reversed her path and returned to the cabin. In a hyper state of excitement, she straightened herself up as best she could and hurried back to the Star Top Lounge. She prayed that Maggie would still be there. Breath needed Maggie as her water tight alibi.

  Maggie had long finished her personal chore and was impatiently waiting for Breath. She was thinking of leaving the lounge when Breath suddenly appeared.

  “Hey, girl, I almost gave up on you. So, did you ever find those good for nothings? You look like you gave it your all.” Maggie noticed that Breath appeared a bit out of breath and a lot harried.

  “I think another drink is in order.” Maggie ordered two of the drinks of the day, Amazon Punch-Berry Vodka, Pineapple Juice and Grenadine ($9.00 in souvenir glass plus 15% gratuity).

  “I looked everywhere and never got a glimpse of them. They’re going to have to do some big time explaining if we ever see them again.” The music was booming. The disco ball was throwing its strobe light beam effect around the crowded lounge in helter skelter abandon.

  Breath and Maggie finished their drinks and decided that they had had enough of fun for the night. Furthermore, they ran out of any newcomers to the lounge who supplied them with material for devastating fashion critique. They couldn’t find their dates. So, the game was over. Only one thing left to do…go to bed.

  ****

  Staff Captain Jan Becker couldn’t sleep. Sleeping was never a major reality in a staff Captain’s life. Rarely, if ever, did she get a full night’s sleep. Possibly on the rare occasion, when the ship was in port for an overnight stay. Even then, some of the officers would crave to explore the town’s night scene and she’d find herself getting back on board at some ghastly hour.

  Hans had called her from his engine room office earlier and told her that he would be in his granddad’s cabin. “Grandpa sitting,” she mused, “life’s chores span from babysitting to grandpa sitting.”

  She had a randy feeling and was fantasizing an intimate visit with Hans to help settle her down. She headed down to the older Mr. Stydd’s cabin. She knocked on the door. No answer. She put her ear to the door and listened. No sound.

  Holding the position of Staff Captain awarded Jan with a master key card. She knocked again as she inserted the card into the slot. She opened the door and peered in. It was almost completely dark. The light was on in the bathroom and the opening at the bottom of the door allowed a sliver of light through, enough to see, once she captured her night vision. She noticed the wheelchair and the bed. Both the chair and the bed were empty. She couldn’t hear anyone in the bathroom. However, she did hear some sounds in the adjoining cabin…Breath’s cabin.

  Jan kept perfectly silent. She moved toward the door between the adjoining cabins and listened. She could hear someone sobbing. Noises something like a hair brush or comb emanated. Then, she heard a fist pound the table and a voice muttering, “Hans, why, why?”…followed by Breath’s cabin door slamming shut.

  “Hans!” Jan’s mind raced in several directions trying to get her arms around this accusation. “What is going on? Hans, why did you do what?”

  Jan waited a few moments and then opened Breath’s cabin door. She checked for anyone in the room. Empty. She stepped into the room and immediately noticed the pile of newspapers and documents scattered on top of the small coffee table. She picked some up and began perusing them. Her mouth dropped as the subject matter of the papers began to sink into her consciousness.

  “Sam was this Rolf S. Stuttgar?” She felt weak in the knees and slumped onto the couch. She continued to leaf through the papers gaining ever more understanding of the sordid affair.

  “But, where is Sam? What happened to him? How could Hans do anything bad to his very own grandfather?” Jan had ten times more questions than answers. She hoped Hans would be in his cabin, so she replaced the papers on the table, backed out of Breath’s room and headed for Hans’ senior staff officer room. “He would have some of the answers, wouldn’t he? He’s got to.” Jan was frantic, yes, but even more than that, she was in a state of confusion. A highly disagreeable state for a staff captain ever to experience.

  When she reached Hans’ cabin, she knocked lightly on the door. She was not interested in eliciting any undue attention from anyone else in the officer quarter’s area. Captain Andersen’s suite was only a couple of doors away and Jan definitely did not want him hearing her at Hans’ door. No response. “Where was he? My God, could it be true that he did something to his granddad? This is unbelievable.” Jan mentally muttered question after question as she furtively waited for any reply. Moments that seemed like hours went by. Still no one came to the door.

  She gave up when she heard footsteps in the passageway. It was probably the officer of the watch seeking the navigator to check about some possible need for a course correction. Frustrated, Jan went back to her cabin filled with anxiety and dread. “Where was Hans on this damn ship?” She thought of calling the Chief Engineer’s office, but what if some other engineer answered? What would she say about why she was calling? A satisfactory solution to her quandary was nowhere to be found.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The next morning made its appearance way too early for the normal guest cruiser. Not for Lucky. He usually rose with an attitude of hope for the day, but this morning he felt filled with a strangely ominous feeling. He couldn’t wait to jump out of a bed that offered him no rest nor peace of mind.

  Lucky was eaten up with the knowledge of Han
s’ confession. Knowledge he absolutely could not act on or share with anyone this side of heaven. He had pushed the boundaries when he disclosed to Led the conversation between Kris and Maggie. That was as far as he could morally go without cracking the inviolable seal of Hans’ confession. His mind churned the ins and outs of the issue all night. His sleep was shallow and sporadic at best.

  Tony, the Cruise Director, requested that Lucky offer the service early before most of the other activities took place. Only the gym rats were up and at ‘em in the workout room. The available spaces on a ship are less than one would expect. There was a myriad of activities, meetings, and, at times, the room needed to be closed for cleaning or maintenance.

  Early as it may be, surprisingly, quite a number of people showed up for the service, especially on days at sea. “Not much else to do, Father. You have the only show in town at this hour”, was the quip heard most often from the participants. Of course, the age of the attendees belied the truism that the elderly sleep less soundly and, consequently, get up “with the chickens”. This, compliments of the partial loss of the natural sleep aid, melatonin, which we possess to a much higher degree when we are infants. Add to that condition the requirements of an aging bladder and one is urged out of bed to face an early morning. All joyful benefits of growing older.

  ****

  Father Lucky was intoning the conclusion of the ritual with the familiar and prescribed farewell: “Go in peace. The Mass is ended.” As he walked to the center of the lounge to make the final announcement to the people about the time and place of the next day’s service, the bing-bong tones of the ship’s PA system rang out overhead.

  “MAN OVERBOARD! DECK CREW TO EMERGENCY BOAT STATIONS”

  Gasps were uttered throughout the congregation still lingering in the Tango Club lounge, AKA, the Tango Club chapel. Lucky literally ripped off the vestments with great abandon as he excused himself to the service attendees who loudly buzzed about the announced incident. He grabbed his rolling suitcase, hurriedly exited the lounge and stepped lively toward his quarters down on deck four.

  ****

  About the time Lucky had earlier pulled himself out of bed, Breath had done likewise. She went through the adjoining door into Sam’s cabin. Of course, he wasn’t there. That offered no surprise to Breath, but she would need to act surprised in a very convincing manner.

  She picked up the telephone and dialed “O” for the Guest Relations’ operator and, in near hysterics, told the operator that Sam was missing. This placed into effect a total ship wide search for the reported missing person. After a half hour producing no success, Captain Andersen ordered that the “Man Overboard” call be made over the ship’s PA system.

  By that time, Hans showed up looking desperate. He had been up early and had gone down to his office in the engine room for the overnight report. His department was part of any SAR, search and rescue operation, so he had received the word immediately from the Officer of the Day on duty.

  Captain Andersen had already ordered the ship slowed and turned back in a search covering last night’s entire voyage. Hope was neither alive nor well. Most everyone knew that it would be a major miracle that anyone would survive in the cold Atlantic waters for any period of time, not to mention an older, sickly person, such as Sam. Of course, the $64,000 question was: “How could he have possibly fallen overboard?”

  “Didn’t you check on him during the night?” Hans was frantically badgering Breath with questions. “Had he called you or complained about anything?” Most of the questions didn’t make any real sense, but Hans’ head wasn’t filled with much clear thinking. Emotions often cloud the mind especially when it comes to personal family matters.

  “I looked in on him when I got back from the Star Top lounge. He was sleeping fine, then. You weren’t here, either.” She replied with a rebuttal filled with like rebuke.

  “Ok, ok. We don’t need to be throwing blame around at each other. The important thing is to find my granddad. I’ll need to go back to the engine room. Call me if, by any chance, he shows up.” Hans knew that was a pipe dream. The outcome was written in the laws of the sea. A person overboard in the open ocean was a goner. He was more aware of that than anyone on board the vessel. He had been a sailor all his life. The sea showed no mercy.

  Nor had Breath.

  ****

  Even Led couldn’t lie in bed during all this commotion. He thrived on excitement and risk taking was his forte. He did a quick clean up and grabbed the phone to call Breath’s room. There wasn’t any answer. He replaced the receiver and stood frozen in place by indecision. What was his move to be?

  Breath was in Sam’s room and having closed the connecting door, hadn’t heard the phone. Anyway, she was totally involved with Hans and her maintaining the cover up…being a great actress demanded a focused and flawless performance.

  A phone call was necessary to cement sympathy in her favor. “Led, this is Breath. Something terrible has happened. Could you please come to Sam’s room?”

  Led’s indecision was cut short. “What happened? Are you alright, Breath?”

  “Please, just come to the room. I don’t know much, but I’ll tell you all I can, when you get here, darling.”

  Led raced to Sam’s room almost knocking over the room service attendant pushing his cart. It was filled with breakfast orders to be delivered to the early risers, still in their pajamas, lollygagging in their cabins. Sam’s door was ajar and he pushed it opened with abandon as he rushed into the arms of a tearful Breath.

  “Damn, what’s going on, Breath?” Looking around the room, “where is Sam?”

  Before she could respond, the cabin phone rang. Unwinding herself from Led’s embrace, she stepped to the phone. “Hello, this is Breath, Sam Stydd’s nurse.”

  “Yes, hello, Miss Olsen. This is Captain Andersen. I’m terribly sorry to inform you of this. I’m afraid I’ll need to call off the man overboard search. There is no possible hope of finding Mr. Stydd. I’m so sorry, but we must continue on our course across the Atlantic. I’ll file all the proper reports as soon as possible. Again, my regrets.”

  “I understand. Well, goodbye, then, Captain.”

  Breath slowly hung up the phone and turned to face Led. She looked devastated and faltered enough that Led rushed to her aid. He held her closely as she nestled her head onto his chest. Even in this moment of tragedy, Led felt his manliness respond. His feelings urged a plan of action…to kiss her and make everything better.

  Breath had already made other plans. Not so feminine.

  ****

  Lucky stepped into Sam’s room and saw Led and Breath in their embrace. He coughed as an alert to them since they were immersed in mutually supportive bliss.

  “Breath, I’m so sorry about Sam. You must be terribly upset.” He was well aware that words only prove awkward in these situations, but, in these cases, words have to do until a better solution offers itself in the fullness of time.

  Led slowly stepped Breath over to the couch. She sank into it alongside of Led. Then she glanced upwards to Lucky, her eyes filled with tears. “I simply don’t know how this could have happened. I checked on him late when I returned from the lounge. He was sleeping soundly. He was fine. Just as I had left him.”

  “Did anyone else see or hear him?” Lucky inquired.

  “Well, just Hans. He had kindly volunteered to sit with Sam for the evening. I guess when Sam had gone to sleep, Hans must have returned to his own room. He knew I was only a few minutes away with Kris, Maggie, and, of course, Led, up in the Star Top lounge. Why would he ever imagine anything could happen to his granddad? I mean, you don’t think that Hans is responsible for Sam’s disappearance, do you? That would be hideous to think.” The actress was planting seeds.

  “I’m not a detective, Breath. I have no idea what happened or who did anything. We’ll just have to leave it up to the ship’s security and Captain Andersen to figure out. We are at sea and the Master of the ship is in command. Let’
s trust that he will know how to handle this.”

  “Lucky, would you eat with us now that Sam is gone? I think it would give Breath and me a good feeling just to have you around. I know Charlie and Joyce would be OK with that since they already met you.” Led was doing his best to comfort Breath. It seemed to be working as Breath let out a deep sigh of relief.

  “Sure thing, Led. That will also give us a meeting spot to rally us together and share our insights or any findings we might come up with. I think I’ll check with security and see if they will fill me in with anything. I might have some standing in their eyes since I’m the cruise chaplain. It can’t hurt to try.” Lucky said goodbye and went to find the security officer.

  ****

  “Yes, Sir, we would be happy to have your assistance in any way. The Master of the ship said we should be open to anyone who might be cooperative in this matter.” The chief of the ship’s security, Mr. Sanjay Mehta, was most inviting. At least on the surface. Lucky surmised that, like with all police minds, Sanjay’s would be suspicious of any and all persons until the truth came out.

  “I’m not quite certain how we will proceed with the investigation. Of course, we will interview all those who were in intimate contact with Mr. Stydd. Then, we will hope that there will be someone who might have seen or heard anything the night of his disappearance. There’s always hope that someone will know more than they think and remember some detail upon our inquiry. Even the slightest bit of information may prove invaluable to the overall solution of our mystery.

  “So, now then, Sir, do you have any thoughts on the matter? I’m told that you had met Mr. Stydd. And, of course, you are aware of our Chief Engineer, Mr. Hans Stydd, the grandson.”

  “Yes, I know of them, but as a matter of fact, Mr. Mehta, I am as much in the dark about this as anyone. I only met them briefly. My traveling companion, Led, has been sitting at the same table in the dining room eating with Sam Stydd and his nurse, Miss Breath Olsen. That’s about as close as I come to the entire affair.” Lucky felt terribly uncomfortable as he was forced to hedge his confidential knowledge. He needed to give off an air of ignorance to a person who was experienced in ferreting out the truth.