The Boy and the Battleship

by Christopher Cummings

  A horrible thought crossed Graham’s mind, fuelled by that humiliating memory of Joany and the British sailor, but he thrust it aside. No, Cindy is too young. She is only fifteen. She wouldn’t really do anything.

  But then he remembered her comments from the previous afternoon and the thought kept niggling insidiously. The emotional confusion was made worse by the fact that near him was Thelma, and she had even spoken to him from time to time.

  The group made its way down another steel ladder and aft past the funnel to the anti-aircraft missile launcher, then down through a hatchway to the hangar deck to look at the helicopters. But by then the worms of jealousy and morality in Graham’s brain had robbed him of any interest or pleasure in the warship. What is Cindy doing? Why had she left the wharf area? Oh, I hope she isn’t doing anything silly, he worried.

  The mental anguish increased until he found he just had to know. He excused himself to Peter with a mumble about the toilet and slipped away. Elbowing his way past slower students he made his way to the aft gangway. On the way he passed a torpedo tube, barely noticing it. So concerned was he that he almost ran down the gangway and across to the doorway leading to the shops, only to be pulled up by Old Wily.

  “Where are you off to Graham?”

  “Toilet sir,” Graham lied, and blushed. By then he was quite upset and agitated. Old Wily nodded so Graham strode on. Once through the door he was confronted by several shopping arcades full of touristy type shops. He sped through these with his mind in ferment wondering where Cindy and the others might go and fearing he would not find them. Within a minute he was out at the car park where busses waited to ferry the students back to school. There was no sign of Cindy there, and, because several teachers stood there talking, Graham did not think they had gone that way.

  They will have gone out to that park at the back, he decided. He almost ran through the arcades again, dodging around tourists and shoppers, to arrive panting at a side door. Beyond was a small park with flourishing flower gardens to obscure the view and provide privacy.

  Now, where will they have gone?

  Suspicion about their intentions made Graham swerve to the right and follow a path which led to the back of the ornamental garden where it butted against the rear of some office buildings. He walked quickly along, breathing fast and feeling worried and upset.

  And there they were! In a small pergola which gave plenty of privacy. And they were kissing! No, they were more than kissing. Graham’s stomach turned over as his mind registered what he saw. The matelot was sitting on the bench with Cindy sitting astride him. They were locked in a passionate embrace and Graham had no doubt that they were ‘doing it’. Graham’s mind boggled and then jealous misery swirled.

  For a moment he stood and gaped in fascinated horror. The matelot saw him and glared. Cindy became aware and looked around, her eyes glassy and apparently out of focus. Then she turned back to the French sailor and kissed him passionately on the lips, her arms around his neck

  She has let him do that! Graham thought incredulously. It was all too obvious that she had, that she wasn’t struggling to escape, only writhing with enjoyment. Cindy again looked at Graham and this time she recognized him and cried his name in a strangled sort of voice, but she didn’t stop. The matelot said something sharply to him in French.

  Graham knew he was telling him to clear out, but all he could do was stand and stare, shocked and sick at heart. Then Cindy turned again and gasped: “Go away Graham. Go away, and please don’t say anything!”

  Feeling stunned, Graham turned and walked away, wondering if he was going to be sick. He felt somehow dirty and unclean; and immensely saddened; and knew with a deeper insight, that he was also a hypocrite. The sailor was doing exactly what he had wanted to do not 24 hours earlier. He was deeply hurt and furiously jealous.

  For the next 10 minutes Graham stood on the back porch of the shopping complex, fidgeting and torn up by emotions that were too complex to clearly identify. He was also fearfully aroused. Half his mind wanted to run away, the other half kept him there, unable to leave, as though he had to endure every last detail. The most horrible thought was that perhaps Cindy might be doing it for money, as he had heard some girls did. That notion made him feel even sicker.

  Then Cindy’s friend appeared. She was with another matelot and looked all hot and flushed. The matelot kissed her and squeezed her buttocks and she clung to him and cried. Graham looked away, aroused, upset, and fiercely jealous.

  He saw by his watch that it was time to head back to the busses or they would be missed. Then there will be trouble as the teachers will be marking rolls and be counting us on, he thought.

  Determined to try to save Cindy, or at least keep her out of trouble, Graham summoned up his courage and walked back along the path. The second matelot stopped kissing Cindy’s friend and said something to her. She looked at Graham who blushed, then stammered: “We… It’s… It’s time to get on the bus. You’d better go.”

  The girl was very embarrassed but also very hostile. She nodded and called out: “Hey Cindy, you’d better come.”

  “We are,” Cindy called back. As the double meaning struck him Graham felt so nauseous he wanted to vomit. The girl went crimson. The sailor with her said something in French and she struggled to answer it. Then Cindy appeared, adjusting her school uniform, the matelot following and straightening his collar.

  Cindy met Graham’s eye defiantly. There was an awkward pause as the pair halted facing him. The matelot eyed Graham and asked Cindy a question. Graham did not know what he said but he let her hand go.

  “The busses,” Graham croaked. “We have to go.”

  Cindy nodded and explained to the sailor. He shrugged and answered her, then spoke to his friend. The two then said goodbye to the girls and walked off along a path leading to the street. Cindy again met Graham’s eye, her whole face guilty defiance.

  “Don’t you say anything Graham.”

  “I won’t,” Graham replied.

  “Not to anyone! Not to your mates or to my brother,” Cindy added. Then she stunned him by saying, “I’ll let you do it with me if you promise not to tell.”

  For several seconds Graham could only stand and stare, unable to believe what he had heard. Then the ugly notion crossed his mind that she was trying to bribe or blackmail him into silence. Fear was swiftly followed by anger that his word was being doubted.

  “I said I won’t!” he snapped.

  They eyed each other for what seemed like minutes but must have only been seconds. More terrible thoughts squirmed in Graham’s mind. Then, to his own shame, he found himself tempted by her offer. But he instantly rejected the idea. That ugly word ‘blackmail’ screamed in his mind and turned the whole incident into something even more sordid. He just repeated: “I won’t tell, don’t worry.”

  Then Graham thought Cindy was going to burst into tears but she steadied her breathing. She was obviously deeply embarrassed. Or is she just ashamed that she was seen? he wondered.

  Cindy met his eyes and held them for several seconds then shook her head. “Let’s go,” she said.

  The three of them walked back to the shops and through the arcade in silence. Graham was too overwhelmed for speech. He was also intrigued at how Cindy could apparently act quite normally and appear so bored after doing such a thing. He had presumed it would somehow show.

  As they came out into the open at the car park Graham realized he should have thought ahead. It was obvious they were late. The busses were all loaded with students and teachers were anxiously checking rolls. Their arrival was noted; and not just by the teachers. With a feeling of sinking despair Graham saw Thelma looking at him through the window of a bus.

  Old Wily called them over. “Where have you people been?”

  Graham could only blush and stammer. Cindy answered, cool as you please. “Just looking at the shops sir, sorry.”

  “Get on the bus.”

  They climbed aboard and Graham found he h
ad to sit next to Cindy because it was the last seat left. As he sat down his eyes met Thelma’s along the length of the bus. His stomach turned over and he wondered how he could retrieve the situation. The bus started up. Graham glanced at Cindy but she said nothing and ignored him, staring out of the window. All the way back to school Graham wanted to ask her why, but could not pluck up the courage to speak.

  Finally, as the bus pulled up, Cindy turned to him. “Please don’t tell on me Graham. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “I won’t say anything,” Graham replied, blushing furiously. He hesitated then asked: “But why Cindy? Why?”

  Cindy shrugged. “Because all my friends have done it and I wanted to see what it was like. I was curious.”

  Graham was puzzled as well as hurt. “But… but… why didn’t you let me?”

  “Because you said no. And because you’ll still be here tomorrow and he won’t. His ship will sail and I won’t ever see him again,” Cindy replied.

  Graham was flabbergasted. While they filed off the bus he could not say more but his mind raced in a turmoil. Did Cindy mean that she done what she had knowing that the sailor wouldn’t bother her again; whereas he would?

  He put this to her. She shrugged and nodded. “Yes, that’s partly right. Mostly I just wanted to see what it was like. It doesn’t mean anything. I am just learning; and he knew what he was doing.”

  “And I don’t?”

  “No, not yet.”

  Cindy turned and walked away. Graham stood, shaking his head sadly as he mulled over this new lesson in life.

  Chapter 19

  MAX IS UNHAPPY

  After school Graham walked home deeply distressed. All he could think about was what he had seen Cindy doing with the French sailor. He kept shaking his head in disbelief. The memory made him feel a mixture of disgust and jealousy. Knowing he was a hypocrite about it did not help. As well he agonized over the religious aspect, of her having sex but not being married. I wish she hadn’t done that. I should have stopped her, he agonized. The idea came to him that it was his fault. I was the one trying to lead her astray. If I hadn’t been suggesting it maybe she wouldn’t have? he thought. Guilt began to swirl in him like sour bile.

  When he got home he lay on his bed and brooded on the affair, pretending to read a book. His mother noted his mood as soon as she came home.

  “How was the visit to the French ship?” she asked.

  “Oh, OK mum. Interesting,” Graham replied, trying to appear normal. He sat up and met her eyes.

  “So what is the matter?”

  Graham swallowed. He could not possibly tell her; but nor could he lie to her. After a pause he shrugged: “Just something someone did mum.”

  “Are you in trouble?”

  “No mum. It wasn’t me. I’m all right. I’d rather not talk about it. In fact I won’t tell you.”

  Mrs Kirk raised her eyebrows. To Graham’s relief she answered, “OK. What do you want for tea?”

  Graham told her, then went to his desk and sat down. Absentmindedly he toyed with his half completed model battleship, turning the turrets without really seeing them while his mind’s eye replayed the sordid scene in the gardens. As he did he accidentally broke one of the balsa gun barrels.

  “Damn!” Annoyed with himself he reached for the glue and bent to fix it. After a few minutes his attention shifted to the model. He began working on it as a way of taking his mind off things. In this he was only partly successful but it kept him busy till bed time, by when he had added a host of small details such as breakwaters and capstans on the focsle and signal lights on the bridge.

  The model now really looked like a battleship and he was pleased with it, but filled with doubts about whether he wanted to go to Max’s to play. If I do I will have to see Cindy. What will I say to her? How can I go? But he knew he would go—wanted to go.

  His problems were many. His mind kept churning over the moral arguments and he knew that Cindy had done one of those things that were irrevocable, that no amount of wishing or regretting could reverse. She will have to live with that for the rest of her life, he thought sadly. That got him thinking about when he had said no and he was simultaneously glad and filled with regrets.

  Did I say no because I was strong and moral or did I say no because I am a coward who didn’t have the guts to be a man? he agonized.

  What added to his anguish was the knowledge that he was still filled with urgent lust and several times he considered Cindy’s offer. But that just filled him with self-loathing and he became truly upset. To his annoyance the erotic images and desire came flooding back a few minutes later.

  The problem of what to say to Max had to be faced the next morning as Graham met him on the way to school.

  “Hi!” Max called cheerfully. “Are we playing Battleships this weekend?”

  “If you want to,” Graham replied, blushing with guilt. Does Max know? Does he have any idea? Graham wondered. From his attitude Graham decided that he did not.

  Max nodded and smiled. “Fine. Your place or mine?” he asked.

  “What about mine for a change?” Graham asked. That will keep me away from Cindy, Graham thought. But that notion just added to his doubts about his courage and convictions.

  Max was happy with this. “That’ll be OK. After lunch tomorrow then?”

  So it was agreed. The boys walked in the front entrance at school and met Stephen just inside. Stephen said, “G’day Max. G’day Graham. Where did you get to yesterday afternoon?”

  Graham went red and started to sweat. “When?”

  “On that Frog ship. We were all looking at the helicopter and you took off like a rocket down the gangway and off the wharf,” Stephen replied.

  Graham blushed again. He shook his head, unable to think of a lie he was prepared to tell. Stephen grinned and said, “Look at the colour of him! It has to be a girl. Who was she Graham?”

  Graham refused to say. He tried to change the subject. Another twist was added when Peter said, “We didn’t notice but Thelma did. She was quite worried you would get into trouble.”

  Thelma! Graham had quite forgotten her. Feeling both guilty and embarrassed, he shook his head again. There was an awkward pause. The arrival of Roger provided an opportunity to change the subject, to Graham’s relief.

  In class Graham looked at Thelma and wondered. Had she really noticed him leave? I doubt that she even knows I exist! he thought bitterly. Then another worrying thought crossed his mind: had Thelma seen who he was following? He decided that was improbable. Cindy had left the wharf before he had started down the gangplank. But she did see me come back with Cindy to get on the bus, he remembered. The thought made him feel sick with concern.

  Next he was tested by meeting Cindy during morning break. They almost ran into each other at a corner. Both stopped and stared at each other. “H… hello Cindy,” Graham stammered, knowing he was blushing furiously.

  Cindy grunted and pushed past him. That hurt Graham even more. He wanted to call out to her but could not think of what to say—and did not want to risk another even more public snub. He shrugged unhappily as she strode away. Women! They are certainly a puzzle, he told himself.

  After school Graham went home and worked on his model. Scouts that night were not enjoyable because Max was there. The mere sight of him nagged at Graham’s guilty conscience. Peter, Stephen and Roger just shrugged. They knew that he sometimes went into a fit of the dejections, usually over some girl.

  ***

  Saturday morning was taken up with chores. Then Graham did some last minute work on his battleship. This included making the tiny model aircraft. This was a Supermarine Seafire made of balsa. It was only 4cm from nose to tail, with a 5cm wingspan. Rather than trying to paint it he coloured it with felt pens and made tiny red, white and blue roundels of paper which he cut out with scissors and glued on. Then he held the finished product at arms length and decided it looked quite good.

  Max arrived just afte
r 1pm. To Graham’s mingled relief and disappointment Cindy was not with him. Max carried a large carton in which he had stacked all his models and toys. The boys moved downstairs, agreeing to play on the lawn beside the house. Max unpacked his models and Graham saw that he had made another destroyer. The workmanship was a marked improvement and quite excited Graham’s jealousy. He picked it up and inspected it.

  “What’s her name?” he asked.

  “HMAS Anzac,” Max replied.

  “Dad helped me get the scale right.”

  “She is really good Max,” Graham replied. He admired the sets of quintuple torpedo tubes. These even rotated on their mounting.

  Max then asked: “What surprises have you got this time?”

  “You’ll see. Let’s start,” Graham said with a grin.

  But before they had begun visitors arrived: Peter and Stephen. They were most interested in the game. Graham asked: “What are you blokes doing?”

  “Nothing. Just riding around,” Stephen answered. They sat down on the back steps to watch. Peter carefully examined the models. Graham anxiously watched his face while he looked at his. He was very sensitive to criticism of his hobby. The game began and the two friends were called on to help move ships; Peter to help Max and Stephen to help Graham.

  Graham had to move his battleship into view almost at once as Max’s monster started blasting his cruisers at half the length of the yard. Max’s eyes narrowed and he walked over to look at the model. He looked a bit strained.

  “What it is?” he asked.

  “A battleship of course,” Graham replied.

  “HMS Iron Duke.” Max studied the model and made a face. “How big are the guns?”

  “They’re 12”,” Graham said matter-of-fact. Max made another face and counted them.

  “They should be only 11”,” Max said at last.

  “Why? The real Iron Duke had 13.5” guns,” Graham replied with some defiance.

  “What about the armour?”

  “24” on the side and 12” on the turrets,” Graham replied. He could sense that Max was greatly unhappy but, just as stubbornly, wasn’t going to back down.