The Poseidon Adventure

by Paul Gallico

  All Rogo's features seemed to droop, the corners of his little eyes, his mouth, his chin, as he tried to placate her, 'Aw, now honey! Don't talk like that in front of nice people.'

  Linda stated where the nice people could go and what they could do there.

  'Aw, now baby! How was anyone to know this could happen? She must have hit something.' To the others he said, 'You mustn't mind her, she's worked up. I guess she's got a right to be. She never did want to come, did you honeybun?'

  Muller asked, 'How long can she stay afloat like this? An hour? Two? Twelve hours?'

  'Or five minutes?' put in Manny Rosen.

  Muller ignored him. 'Can we make it? Have we got time? How do we get out of here? We can't even get up to where Acre and Peters are. How many decks are there? Five? Six? We'd never make it!'

  Buzz Scott said, 'It's the trying that's important.'

  Under her breath, yet sufficiently audibly, Linda Rogo said, 'Balls!'

  Rogo tried to cover her up, 'Don't be like that, honey.' But to Scott he said witheringly, 'The old college try, eh? Christ, we can't even get off this floor! What about the women?' His glance went over the fat Belle Rosen. 'Use your nut! They must know we're down here. If we stick around, someone's bound to come and get us out.'

  Scott turned his glare full upon Rogo and said, 'That's not what you either said or did when they were holding two wardens hostage at Westchester Plains.'

  Rogo's smooth face went flat and expressionless. He said, 'Wasn't it? I knew what was there and where I was going. You don't.'

  Muller wondered whether Scott would react. He was well aware of the antagonism of Rogo for the Minister and himself, only slightly masked during the trip by exaggerated politeness. To his surprise Scott did not. He merely regarded Rogo quizzically for a moment and then said, 'You may be right.'

  Manny Rosen asked, 'Exactly what is it you're suggesting we should do, Frank?'

  'Behave like human beings, instead of like sheep,' Scott replied.

  'So?'

  Muller, remembering the odd nature of the Minister's prayer, or rather deal with God, by which he seemed already to have committed them to some kind of action, wondered whether they were about to be harangued in this man's curious theological dialectic.

  Instead he queried them quietly, almost in an undertone. 'Have any of you men ever taken a survival course?'

  Robin said, 'You mean like astronauts, who are put down some place where there's no food or water, or help of any kind and have to know what to do?'

  'That's it, Robin.'

  The men shook their heads.

  Scott said, 'I have. Do you know the cause of death of most people who are either lost, shipwrecked or drowned in inhospitable country?'

  'Panic,' Muller volunteered.

  'No,' said Scott, 'apathy. Doing nothing, just plain quitting -- giving up. The statistics show it. The records indicate that the mere action of keeping busy, trying to do something keeps people alive.'

  Then he went on, 'As I see it, if we remain here waiting for help to come, it may or it may not. We don't know anything about how long we can remain afloat this way; how near to death we may be. But here we are, all of us, still alive, thinking and rational people with the gift of life which has been taken away from so many. I suggest that we go forward to meet whatever help there may be for us.'

  No one said anything.

  Scott concluded mildly, 'You know, an animal will try to fight its way clear of a trap, even if it has to leave a leg behind it.'

  Rosen said, 'I still don't get what you're proposing we should do, Frank.'

  'Climb,' Scott replied, 'and keep climbing.'

  Rosen said, 'And if she goes down while we're doing this climbing?'

  Muller surprised himself, for the thought that flashed through his head was: My God, he's right! At least it will catch us in a moment of nobility.

  Scott put it differently. He said, 'We'll have been trying. But I don't believe it will sink.'

  The Beamer added, 'Aren't you being a little optimistic, old . . .' and then caught himself in time. One did not call the vicar, or whatever was his American equivalent, 'old boy'. He said, 'How do you know?'

  'Because,' Scott said, 'I've made a promise for us. It cannot be ignored.'

  The statement was ambiguous, ridiculous and yet contained force and persuasion. Through Muller's mind went all the jokes about the value of having a clergyman during a trip on an aircraft or as a golfing partner. Himself a thorough agnostic who never in his self-centred life had been on his knees, he was not immune to superstition or the atavistic allure of the tribal magician or medicine man.

  Scott said, 'Robin there, knows what I'm driving at. If we stay afloat till morning, we may be spotted from the air. Ships and aircraft will be searching for us. There will be only one way to get us out and that's by cutting through the hull at the top. Our chances of being rescued are that much more if we can manage to be there when they do.

  'However,' Scott continued, 'it will be up to you to decide whether you remain here or make the effort.'

  Muller was struck by the incongruity of the debate, when they were all poised on the brink of extinction. None of them had the faintest idea of the ship's buoyancy reserves in her capsized position, to what extent air had replaced the spaces emptied by disaster. Yet they were not behaving like people close to death. There had been screams and panic and outcries for help enough during the moment of catastrophe. But now perhaps only seconds away from the final plunge of the ship, they were calmly discussing means and chances of escape. Was it the confidence of Scott, or the fact that turned turtle the Poseidon now offered as steady a platform, except for the grotesqueries overhead, as she had when she was right side up? She was there beneath their feet, rigid, solid, negating panic. Yet Muller was well aware that it was an illusion that could be dispelled for ever any moment.

  Shelby asked, 'What about the others?' and glanced over in the direction of the people huddled at the side of the ship at the far end of the dining-saloon and the figures on the floor, some now beginning to stir.

  'The dead are out of it,' Scott said and Jane Shelby looked up, startled at the brutality of the words, the sudden indifference that showed through what up to then had been gentle persuasiveness. Miss Kinsale came into her view and Jane noticed that she did not seem to share in her astonishment. On the contrary, her expression was one of reflective repose.

  Scott said, 'Seven died from the fall here. There is no possibility for the injured to make it. We can't burden ourselves with cripples. The old Doctor's doing the best he can.'

  Jane thought: But that's selfish and cruel -- to abandon them. But then her common sense said to her, What on earth is there to be done with people who cannot be moved? The word 'selfish' turned to 'self-preservation'. Scott was right and she was wrong and she did not like it.

  Rosen said, 'Some shipping line! Imagine signing on a man who is half blind as a ship's doctor.'

  The Beamer said, 'Imagine signing on a Captain who lets his ship turn upside-down!'

  Shelby repeated his question, 'What about the others?' and then added, 'I mean, those over there who haven't been hurt?'

  Scott said, 'I talked to them. That young purser told them to stay where they are and someone would come for them. He's wearing a uniform. They believed him.'

  'So that leaves us,' said Shelby.

  The pulsating lights from below the floor went dimmer than they had been for a moment, before coming on again. The Beamer said, 'There's a happy thought! How long will those last? I suppose they're on emergency storage batteries.'

  'I asked that Fourth Officer,' Scott said, 'but the boy didn't know. An hour or two; maybe more, maybe less.'

  'Christ!' said Rogo in an injured tone, 'What does the son-of-a-bitch know -- for our dough?'

  Linda closed her eyes and shook her fists like a child in temper and let out a squeal, 'I don't want to die! We're all going to die and all you do is yackety, yackety, yackety! Oh
Mary, Mother of God, save us!'

  Scott ignored her and replied to her husband, 'Nothing. He only saw this ship for the first time when he joined her twenty-four hours before she sailed. If I thought he knew anything, I'd have made him come along and show us the way. That's why the sooner we start the better.'

  Martin spoke up suddenly. He was so small, greying and unobtrusive even in the plaid dinner-jacket he affected, that the middle-western twang of his voice surprised them all.

  He said, 'I don't know about you people, but I've got to be back before the tenth. We're putting in a new line. You know, for kids. We've got a lot of youngsters out there in Evanston and you've got to give 'em young stuff. Maybe it's crazy, all those "with-it" shirts, and those ties, but that's what you've got to give 'em.' And then he added almost as an afterthought, 'I've got a crippled wife at home -- arthritis.' He looked at them almost defiantly for a moment. 'But she wanted me to go on this trip. She's a good sport, Ellen.'

  Scott asked, 'You'll come?'

  'Might as well.'

  'And you, Dick?' Scott had turned to the Shelbys.

  Richard Shelby hesitated before replying for his family, whom he did not consult. He said, 'Yes, if you say there's a chance.'

  Jane Shelby added, 'Or even if there isn't.' A slight hint of sharpness had tinged her words, but it was impossible to tell whether it was a query or a statement.

  Scott turned his open gaze upon her, but his look was more inward than outward and Jane felt it. He said, 'At least we'll have valued ourselves, won't we?'

  Jane wished that her husband had not hesitated. He was the older man and ought to have been the most capable of them. His momentary hesitation before he surrendered up leadership was only a confirmation of what she had known for a long time. Yet wife-like, lover-like, she always kept on hoping.

  Shelby had wanted to lead; had wanted to look good in the eyes of his family. He had kept his nerve and his self-possession during the catastrophe but he had no better suggestion as to how they might extricate themselves. Scott seemed to know what he was about. But he had caught the slight note of asperity in his wife's voice and as an afterthought said, 'Is that all right with you, Jane? Susan? What about you, Robin?'

  Robin said, 'Sure! The computer centre on Governor's Island would know where every ship is that was near us. I think we ought to go, Mom.'

  Jane felt more comforted. Her son had a mind.

  Scott continued his canvass, 'Mr Bates?'

  The Beamer said, 'It's worth a try. I don't fancy being drowned like a rat in a trap.'

  '. . . Miss Reid?'

  The Beamer answered for her, 'Oh, she'll come along with me. Right, Pam?'

  The English girl nodded, 'If you want me to, Tony.'

  '. . . Miss Kinsale?'

  Directly addressed, the spinster awoke as though from a reverie and smiled a gentle acquiescence, 'But of course, Dr Scott.'

  'Mr and Mrs Rogo?'

  The little eyes of the detective shifted back and forth from Scott to the other members of the group. He was used to taking command in situations and if necessary even overpowering them. But he was out of his element here -- there was no enemy, no one to subdue. The thought of submitting to a rah-rah boy and a preacher at that, went against all his grain. But he did not want to die either. He subscribed to the Broadway creed: shorten the odds anytime you can. He said, 'If you ain't talking through your hat about figuring a way out of here.'

  Linda turned on him suddenly, her face red and puffy, 'I'm not going! I'm scared. I think he's a phony!' she bawled at her husband. 'And you're not going either!'

  'Aw, now baby!' Rogo soothed.

  The last of the pseudo refinement she affected was torn away as she released a stream of filthy abuse upon her husband who eyed her dejectedly and said, 'Aw sweetie, don't talk like that!'

  But there was no stopping her or the obscenities that erupted from her in such an endless and varied stream that the others could only stare aghast and wholly unprepared for what happened next.

  Without so much as a change in his pleading and unhappy expression, faster than the eye could follow, Rogo whipped the back of his hand across her face but with his other arm he caught her before she could fall and held her up.

  'Oooow!' she wailed and then began to howl. Blood dripped from her nose.

  Rogo gathered her into his arms, 'Aw, now honeybun -- I didn't mean it, baby doll, look what you made me do to your little nose!' He took out a white silk handkerchief from the breast pocket of his dinner-jacket and held it to her face. 'Sweetie, you know I don't like to hurt you. Come now, there's my girl!' She subsided into sobs.

  Jane Shelby and her husband, too, felt that this was a not unusual scene between them when she had pushed him to the point where the awe in which he stood of her vanished in the sudden flashpoint of the truculence that made him what he was.

  The Beamer was staring with his eyes popping from his head. He made no pretence of understanding Americans. But Manny Rosen never turned a hair. He had seen Rogo in action in his own delicatessen shop, with three toughs who had taken the liberty of what Rogo called, 'passing a remark.'

  Rogo said to Scott, 'She'll go.'

  'Mr Muller?'

  Hubie replied, 'I think it's a very good idea.' He was not liking where he was and was ready to move on.

  Scott queried, 'Mr and Mrs Rosen?'

  Belle Rosen appealed to her husband, 'I don't understand. What is it he wants us to do?'

  'I don't know. He says climb up something to get out of here. He wants to go to the top of the ship. He says he'll show us.'

  'Manny, a fat woman like me can't climb. You go. I'll stay here and wait.'

  'Are you crazy, Mamma? Go away and leave you? You could try, couldn't you? What else is there we can do? Stay here and wait for the ship to go down, and drown?'

  Belle Rosen said, 'What difference does it make where we drown?'

  The tubby little man suddenly looked undecided at his wife's logic. He had not yet come to grips with the full extent of what had happened to them. Scott went to Mrs Rosen and took her pudgy hand in his, where it quite disappeared. He said, 'We'll all help you, Mrs Rosen. It may not be as difficult as you think.'

  She looked up into his face. He and everything he was and represented was as alien to her as though he had stepped off another planet. But something she saw there fired her natural courage which had borne her through life to where she now found herself. She said, 'If you say so,' and then added, 'but I'm a fat old woman. I'll only be in your way.'

  Scott smiled, 'Not if you're willing to try. Then it's decided.'

  The Beamer's girl gave a little exclamation, 'Oh!' and then facing them firmly and coolly said, 'I'm sorry, of course I can't go with you.'

  They were startled. None of them knew her except for exchanging a few words, or very much concerning her, apart from the gossip and this about-face in view of her prior eager consent took them by surprise.

  'Mother, of course,' she said, 'I couldn't go without Mummy. She's in her cabin resting. I'd have to . . .' Her speech ran down and she stopped. Fear distorted her plain face as she glanced about her, taking in the nightmare ceiling above and the dark oily water where the staircase had been. 'Tony!' she cried, 'Where is she? We've got to go to her! Which way?'

  The Beamer was suddenly helpless. 'Look here, old girl, you must get hold of yourself. You see -- I'm afraid . . .' He looked over to Scott for assistance.

  The girl cried, 'Don't just stand there staring at me that way! Why don't you tell me? How do I get to her?'

  But by then she already knew the answer and buried her face in The Beamer's shoulder as Scott said, 'I'm sorry, but you must all surely know by now. Everyone who was above this dining-room is now below the waterline. None of them can be alive any longer.'

  James Martin felt nausea swimming up and managed to turn himself away from the group before he fell to his knees once more and was violently sick again. For the first time he had thought of Mrs Lew
is who had said she would not be coming down to dinner.

  'God,' said The Beamer, 'I could do with a drink!'

  Rogo had one more violent outburst, 'Jesus Christ!' he yelled at Scott. 'You mean everybody's dead except us? But it's all crazy, this upside-down! It's all crazy! You're crazy! You don't even know how to get us off this floor.'

  'Oh yes, I do,' said the Reverend Dr Frank Scott.

  CHAPTER V

  The Christmas Tree