The Poseidon Adventure

by Paul Gallico

  Scott promised, 'You'll be as safe as walking upstairs in your own home.'

  'When I'm going upstairs in my own home, I go in the elevator.' She looked upwards once more. 'No not in a thousand billion years. You couldn't talk me into it.'

  'But, Mamma, you can't stay here. Look, I'll be right behind you.'

  'Yes, I can. Go on, Manny. Go on everyone. Leave me. Can't you see I'm tired, that I ain't got any more strength?'

  'But, Mamma, you'd die. We'd both die. You think I'd leave you?'

  'Or that we would, Mrs Rosen?' cried Nonnie.

  Belle gazed at them out of dark eyes, heavy lidded and filled with fatigue, despair and memories. 'Is living so wonderful?' she asked.

  Her husband said, 'I'm surprised at you, Mamma. Do you want to die?'

  'I don't want to have to climb any more. My feet are killing me from all those pipes. I'm old. I'm too heavy to lift myself up there.'

  Susan Shelby bent over Belle and took her hand, suddenly filled with a tenderness she had not known that she possessed. 'Dear Mrs Rosen,' she begged, 'do please try. We . . .' She had been about to say, 'love you,' but suddenly felt embarrassed. 'We think you're a wonderful person. Look how you went through that awful tunnel by yourself, where nobody else really dared. We never would have got here if it hadn't been for you.'

  'So where are we?' said Belle. 'I appreciate your remarks, but swimming ain't climbing. You want I should swim across there for you, okay. But up any more, never! Anyway, my heart is hurting me.' Then to her husband, 'I'm surprised at you, Manny, when you know about my heart . . .'

  'Belle, Belle, your heart always!' said Manny, and it was apparent that this had been a longtime family affair. 'Look, Mamma. You know there's nothing the matter with you. The last time we saw Dr Metzger and he listened, he said you should live so long before a heart like yours gave out.'

  'Dr Metzger don't know what I'm feeling. It kills me if I climb, it kills me if I stay here. Here it's easier.'

  Linda turned on her. 'Oh, for Chrice sakes stay, then!' she shouted, and then to the others, 'If she chooses to sit here and die, let her. But she has no right to keep us back.'

  Belle said gravely, 'Nobody chooses to die, Mrs Rogo. When it comes, it comes and then you go. I'm sixty-four years old. You're young. I understand how you feel. Nobody should stay here with me, please. I never thought anything like this could happen to us but when it does, you got to look at it from how you are.'

  'Mamma,' Manny pleaded, 'how can you say such things? With sixty-four you are nothing. Look how you still can swim like a champion. Don't you want to see Irving again? And Sol and Sylvia? And Hy and Myra, your own children and grandchildren?'

  Both Shelby and Muller noted a small bit of starch enter the limp, surrendered backbone of Mrs Rosen. 'Sol and Sylvia I could do without,' she said. 'All those years they been chiselling from the store. Tongue or pastrami ain't good enough for them. No, it's lox and sturgeon every time. Or like she's saying, "Belle, I am just happening to be hungry, maybe a little caviar on a piece of white bread would be good."'

  Tubby little Rosen in his shorts began to look like a burt child. 'Aw, now, Mamma. Don't go picking on my relatives again. We had that all explained. Sol has been a good brother to me, he put money in the shop when . . .'

  'Yeah, and Sylvia ate it all up, twice over,' Belle interrupted. 'An appetite she had, like a horse. So she's my sister-in-law, but she used to be worse than cops for free handouts. Every day, every day, a sandwich here, a dill pickle there, I'm all out of mustard, at home, Belle, could I borrow a jar. Mmmmmm, does that herring salad look good, you mind if I taste? Don't give me Sylvia.'

  'Belle, Belle, you mustn't talk like this. Not in front of strangers.' He was worried about what Mike Rogo might do or say at the allusion to cops, or Linda. And the others standing there embarrassed, trying to pretend they weren't listening.

  Rogo surprised him, however. He said, 'Let her get it out of her system, Manny. She'll feel better afterwards.'

  'Like a larder they used to use our shop,' Belle went on, 'and Sol was as bad as she. The half of it you don't even know because when I was a kid in Wadleigh High, one of the things I learned was not to snitch. You know where half the stuff comes from the time their Simon went Bar Mitzvah? Our stock room. Only I covered it up, you shouldn't find out such no-goods should be your family. And what did they ever do for us? You know what Sylvia gave our kids for last Christmas? Each a handkerchief with an initial on from Woolworth's. Big deal, when Sol sells cut his business for half a million. If I'm not saving every penny, where do you think we would be today?'

  Rosen with a sheepish and unhappy little smile looked around at the others. It was an old story to him, but to have people like the Shelbys and Scott and Muller let into the privacy of family squabbles! With her expression Jane Shelby tried to message him, It's all right, Mr Rosen, we understand.

  And Rosen's eyes almost popped from his head. Had or hadn't Scott tipped him a wink? Feeling a sudden flood of relief he said, 'Mamma, Mamma, I'm sorry. Like you say, half of it I didn't know, otherwise . . .'

  'Sorry, sorry. Now you're sorry, when it's too late and we're retired.'

  'You're right, Mamma. But we got plenty for ourselves. We got a lot yet to look forward to.' Rosen hesitated and then decided to risk it. Maybe Rogo was right. What she needed was to get it off her chest again. 'Could you come now, maybe, Mamma. See, we've been holding up Mr Scott and everybody.'

  She looked up at him. Her expression had changed to something almost half humorous, but the liquid, dark eyes were affectionate, as she sighed and said, 'I suppose so, Emmanuel Rosen, like I always said, you're a terrible man. What is it I got to do now?' She rose to her feet. It was Martin who raised the cheer: 'Atta girl, Belle! To hell with Sol and Sylvia,' and sent a ripple of laughter through the party, and felt embarrassed at the attention he had drawn and apologized, 'Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs Rosen, I didn't mean . . .'

  'Never mind,' she said, 'so I talked my head off like an old fool. So show me, and I try.'

  Carefully Scott explained the roping which, because of the brevity and steepness of the climb plus the size of the party, would have to be different from ordinary alpine practice. There would be two ropes, one attaching the members of the party to one another, and the other a guide-rope, which would be alternately fastened and shifted by Scott as he progressed to the top.

  Muller asked, 'How do we get the Turk to capisco all this? I wouldn't care to have him down on top of me.'

  'This is a bright boy,' Scott replied. 'He was smart enough to join up with us. You watch, he'll get it when I demonstrate. Miss Kinsale and Martin, you're first. Hi, Kemal, you look. You see!'

  Laying out the two coils of line retrieved from the Fire Station, Scott tied one end of one of them about his own waist, looped it slantwise across the upper part of Miss Kinsale's body, fastening it with a curious knot and running the second line through it.

  'The body rope will hold you secure, and the guide-rope you can use to help pull yourself up. Do you see how it works? Here, Kemal, how about you?'

  The Turk grinned and said, 'Hokay, hokay!'

  Muller asked, 'Why have you got the Rosens in the middle? I should have thought that . . .'

  Scott replied, 'It figures, doesn't it? The most difficult part of the climb is the middle. By the time the Rosens reach there, I'll be on top. The guide-rope will be secured and I'll be able to give them a lift with the body rope. That's when they'11 need it.'

  He had made it sound so easy, every step thought out, every precaution taken. And curiously the manner in which he had put the challenge to them as an act of worship had stimulated them all, even the non-religious or the doubters, such as Muller and Martin, who sold themselves on the idea that to bring off such a climb was near enough miraculous that it must be somehow rewarded. They were eager to begin.

  'Let's go!' cried Scott, 'Let's show Him what we're made of!'

  Shelby thought again of that half hysteri
cal assistant coach giving him a wallop on his backside and saying, 'Go out there and show those bastards what Michigan men are made of.'

  But Scott had one final caution. He said, 'We'll make it if you remember one thing. Don't vary in a single instance from what the person above you does. I will have tested out every foothold, handhold, loophold. That will be the only way to go. Also don't ever look down. Only up to what the person above you is doing, or has done. Don't talk. Save your breath. From time to time I'll call a rest. Stay where you are then, loop your slack, use it as a bight or hitch when you need to, put your weight on your rope and work and relax your fingers. When you're breathing normally, we'll continue. Everyone got shoes or slippers on? Rogo, see that the guide-line pays out properly. Okay! We're off!'

  He made his way carefully up the gradual slope of tumbled debris collected by the edge of the lake, the foothills leading to the first, almost vertical rise upwards.

  With curious delicacy, Miss Kinsale picked her way after him, her head down in concentration to see that she trod where he had, her long dark hair falling down on either side of her face. Muller thought how closely Scott had hit it with his description of the game -- girl following boy carefully over the sharp shale of some holiday beach in carefully stylized pursuit.

  'All right, Miss Kinsale?'

  'Quite, Dr Scott.'

  'The climb really begins now. Watch what I do and where I go.'

  The body line went taut between her and Martin, who moved off behind her, followed by Nonnie and Muller.

  With the smaller flashlights still tied to their forearms, it left their hands free with adequate lighting directed at the gripping point, with major illumination provided by the larger lanterns.

  While Scott's practised climber's eye had mapped out a possible pathway, shadows and the impossibility of seeing all sides involved some guesswork and made improvisaton necessary. Yet once started with these soft and tired people behind him, relying upon his confidence, there was to be no turning back. Now with the main climb at hand, he reached up, looped the guide-rope over a piece of broken handrail, and secured his first foothold.

  Miss Kinsale asked, 'Do I do anything about that guide-rope?'

  'No, but use it to help you. I'll be constantly taking it higher, but it will always be anchored for your next step. Are you frightened?'

  'No, not with you.'

  'Good. See that the arch of your foot rests on any projection, if it's narrow. Then you'll be less likely to slip.' Scott went on again, finding a handhold on the tubular crosspiece of a railing that had been carried away and a secure footing on the inner surface of a ripped pipe. He called down, 'Martin, are you following?'

  'Yup!'

  'We're in luck. I've found a piece of ladder turned the right way around. Five steps like going upstairs and there's a piece of the platform at the top where we'll have our first rest.'

  The Shelbys were now beginning to climb. The only difficulty they found in following Scott's instructions was the slipperiness of every piece of metal due to the oil. But Scott was proceeding so slowly and meticulously that there was time to secure a firm grip.

  Shelby, looking down, saw Kemal and the Rosens crossing the initial slope. He called back to Belle, 'it's a breeze! Kemal's there to give you a hand-up. Scott's taking it very easy.'

  They did not reply. Shelby turned back to concentrate on the next step upwards. He was filled with admiration for Scott's organization and forethought. Kemal had understood why and where he had been put in the order, for after each movement he turned around to make sure that Belle was following in the right place and reaching down with his huge hand, helped to pull her aloft.

  Overhead, Scott had come up against his first real obstacle. It was a solid wall of metal some six feet in height, barring the way and extending across and out over the edge of the lake below. Some earlier damage from the fall had cut a 'V' into it at that point, with the outer part forming a five-foot, needle sharp spearhead pointing upwards. Directly above his head, a stanchion, some severed pipes and a downward curved piece of steel effectively blocked the path. Had Scott been alone, he would have slung a rope over one of these and been over the hurdle in a few minutes. With the others it would be impossible.

  The menacing spearpoint cut off access from the right. There was no shifting the piece overhead.

  He called Out, 'Rest where you are,' and then studied the problem from the left side, where two lubricating pumps had ended their collapse, spilling their contents.

  Miss Kinsale looked up and inquired, 'Are you in trouble, Dr Scott?'

  'For the moment.'

  'Surely, if you ask for the help of our Heavenly Father . . .'

  Scott replied curtly, 'That would be an impertinence. This is a mountaineering job. There's always a way.' He had seen it already. One partially risky foothold on a foot-wide strip of metal, fortunately inclined at an angle slightly upwards, around the obstacle, and the broken pumps then turned themselves from there into a kind of vertical circular staircase from which a piece of broad undamaged platform could be gained. All that was necessary was for each person after having negotiated the narrow turn about the edge of the wall to pause and give his or her follower a steadying hand.

  Scott smiled with satisfaction. He wanted to get on. The ugly, menacing, triangular spear had now become an arrow pointing upwards and onwards.

  He said, 'I've got it.' He worked his way around the narrow ledge, flipped the loop of the guide-rope over the next overhead projection and said, 'Give me your hand, Miss Kinsale, until you are around this corner. Then wait and do likewise for Martin and tell him to pass along the same instructions to the others. The next section will be a piece of cake.'

  'I prayed,' said Miss Kinsale.

  Scott did not reply, but steadied her around the corner. While she waited for Martin, he had started up the next part of the climb.

  Scott suddenly cried, 'Hold it for a moment! Don't come any farther.'

  They waited. To Miss Kinsale just below him it seemed that he was struggling with something, which finally came loose, and a moment later from the lake below they heard a splash. Shelby asked, 'What was that?'

  Scott replied, 'Nothing.'

  But Rogo's body was momentarily turned, and the big lantern strapped to his back had picked up the object for an instant. It was part of a severed leg wearing a rubber boot. For a moment he felt sickened and no fonder of Scott. He thought: What the hell is that guy made of?

  The line lengthened. Belle and Manny Rosen were already at the beginning of the vertical ascent, shepherded by Kemal; Nonnie and Muller on the slope. Only Linda and Rogo were still on the flat, awaiting their turn.

  Linda said, 'Why did you let him make us suck hind tit again? If anything gets screwed up, we'll get it, or somebody falls down on top of us.'

  Rogo replied, 'It's psychology.'

  'Psychology, my ass!' said Linda. 'You let that randy bastard buffalo you. Fine thing not standing up for your wife when a man tries to make her right under your nose.'

  'Yeah, sure,' said Rogo in his flat monotone voice, 'That's right. He gives you a feel and then yells for help. Don't give me that. What have you got in there, a set of teeth?'

  'You bastard!'

  Rogo said, 'I thought you had more sense than to go for a panzola. I've got Mr preacher Scott's number now. He's queer as a coot.'

  ' Him?' The accusation actually outraged her sensibilities.

  'Yeah, him! This guy can't go for dames so he makes with the turn-around collar. And he sure slapped you down.'

  The line about Linda's waist tautened and there was a pull on the slack in her hand. 'Get going,' Rogo ordered, 'and for Christ's sweet sake, don't try any funny business, but do like he said and let's git ahda here. You got Muller ahead of you. He's no bargain, but at least he's all there. I heard him laying that kid. I'm behind you and won't let nothing happen to you, honeybun. Just take it easy.'

  They started on their way up.

  'Yo
u making it okay, Belle?' Manny called. The yellow light of his flashlamp was trained on her white bottom that glistened with sweat and oil.

  She replied, 'It's my breath. Every time I go up a step I can't get my breath.'

  'But you're not frightened, Mamma?'

  'No, I ain't frightened. I only looked down once and then I couldn't see nothing. This Turkish feller is a nice man. He helps me. How much farther is it?'

  'I dunno. Not much, maybe. We just keep on going like we are 'til we're there. You're doing great.'

  'Manny, if we ever get out of this, you won't get me farther than the corner of Amsterdam Avenue and 89th Street from our apartment.'

  'That's right, Mamma. Think about our apartment, what a fine place we got.'

  She couldn't resist it, 'With Sol with his feet up on our best chair and Sylvia sticking her nose into my closet to see what new clothes I got, if any. Okay, okay, Mr Kemal, I'm coming.'