The cruise, p.1
The Cruise, page 1
The Cruise
Lost at Sea
Urban Three
All rights reserved
Copyright © 2017
Authored By A. Nation
Published 2017
A Books2Read Edition
#31Mnjn
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I want to thank those that gave me support and tolerated my persistence in writing my story; they are by first names only as they know who they are: Yuma Writer’s on the Edge
Shirley, Christie, and Nancy.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1 – Crime on Deck
Chapter 2 – Packing
Chapter 3 – Lunch at Bosloe’s
Chapter 4 – Fin and Cal
Chapter 5 – Last Details
Chapter 6 – Ocean Flight
Chapter 7 – The Swedish Star
Chapter 8 – Touring the Island
Chapter 9 – Shopping and Whales
Chapter 10 – Day’s End
Chapter 11 –The Next Day
Chapter 12 – Ivan
Chapter 13 – Lorilee
Chapter 14 – Discovery
Chapter 15 – His Ghost
Chapter 16 – The Necklace
Chapter 17 – Master of Arms
Chapter 18 – Ship’s Tour
Chapter 19 – My Roomie
Chapter 20 – The Formal Ball
Chapter 21 – Kidnapped
Chapter 22 - Escape
Chapter 23 - Capture
Chapter 24 - Relief
Chapter 25 - The Funeral
Chapter 26 - Vernon
Chapter 27 –The Airport
Chapter 28 - Disguised
Chapter 29 - The Search
Chapter 30 - Deflection
Chapter 31 - The Unthinkable
Chapter 32 – Home Sweet Home
Character List:
Susan Edwards - Main Character
Trisha Paiger - Susan’s Neighbor
Larry Paiger - Trisha’s husband
Hobnobby - Gnome
Finindaddle - Scientist
Calliefogle - Scientist
Thyla - Feline Woman
Jacob Pearson - Police officer
Bosloe - Restaurant Owner
Colin - Friend of Bosloe
Jack Oput - Farmer in Firth
Sally Montgomery - Susan’s Friend
René Polson - Susan’s Friend
Nokken - Water Spirit
Nisser - Friendly Prankster
Elves - Peaceful Smithys
Condor - A talking raven
Lorilee Dawn Spiritualist
Vernon McCarthy Boss of Thieves
Ivan Ramanoff Ghost Steward
David Brook Ship Bartender
John Farmer Master of Arms
Preface
Have you ever had an event so dramatic to your soul, you see people that are not there? At first, I thought my experiences might have been a dream or an illusion. Hobs told me I have a gift. If you have a gift like mine, please use it with wisdom and care. I, Susan Edwards, have such a gift and sometimes it gets me in trouble.
Chapter 1
Crime on Deck
The hour was 2:00 am. The Swedish Star crewmen had just finished mopping around the tables near the bar on the deck of the stern. The smell of bleach lingered in the moist air intensified by the heavy humidity. A solitary steward, working near the buffet lounge not far from the outside bar, gathered up the last plate smeared with the blueberry pie stains along with the fork and a nearby coffee cup.
Most of the passengers at this hour, who enjoyed their late night party around the bar with their friends or love affairs, had retired for the evening. The last couple, who had stayed up for a late night snack, left for their ship cabins. The only passengers left on the deck were a few men talking at the curved railing while the crashing of waves and the engines roared behind the ship. A light breeze brushed across the rear of the ship causing the muffled voices to carry with the wind. As the steward wiped down the table outside the buffet sliding doors, he could hear the men’s voices escalating in volume. One man, in particular, was bellowing at another person.
“I should call the Master of Arms,” the steward thought as he listened to the threatening conversation. From his vantage point, he could see two large men dressed in black suits, one more slender than the rest, and a fourth short man with a husky build wearing a dinner suit.
“Where did you hide it?” one of the brawny men shouted.
“I don’t know where it is,” cried the slight man, backing up against the railing. “Someone must have taken it.”
The robust man near the shorter one smacked the slight person in the jaw causing the victim to stumble to the side of the rail. Blood sprayed out from the impact toward one of the life raft canisters.
“Please,” the weakened man moaned, holding the back of his hand to his bleeding mouth.
The shorter man, bent down to speak to the injured man.
“You must know where it is. I paid you a great deal of money and now you try to steal it from me?” He hissed and nodded to another large man standing on his other right side.
A blow hit the victim’s gut. He slid to the deck, unconscious. The attacker nudged the immobile body but didn’t receive a response. The wind, picking up speed, blew across the stern.
A sharp ringing sound of something hitting the floor, turned the men’s attention just as the waves slapped against the ship’s metal exterior.
“Did you hear that?” asked one the heavy-set men.
“I heard it too, check it out,” said the well-dressed man adjusting his white broad-brimmed hat.
The steward had edged closer to the group of angry men to see what they were doing. Still holding the dirty plates, he hadn’t noticed in time to catch the fork sliding off the dishware. It clanged and bounced on the hard floor of the deck. All of a sudden a splash sounded in the distance which reminded him of the lifeboat drops during the practice muster drills.
Then the sudden sharp pain in the back of his head was the last thing he remembered as he slumped down to the washed deck.
“Who’s this?” asked the shorter man approaching the unconscious steward.
“One of the cleaning help, I guess, boss,” replied the attacker.
“Hey, boss, he’s comin’ to,” said the other thug standing near the victim.
“What did you hear?” the large man shouted.
“Oohhh, nothing. Who are you?” the steward moaned, looking up at the men while he rubbed the back of his head.
Looking around, he asked, “Where’s the other man?”
“Wrong answer. Throw him in,” ordered the shorter man.
“No, wait. I didn’t hear–“
One of the boss’s men, towering over the crewmember, took a swift swing with the hard toe off his shoe and struck the steward’s jaw. Two of the hefty men dragged the limp body toward the edge of the deck. Then, as one beefy man grabbed under the steward’s shoulders the other accomplice picked up the man’s feet. Together they flung the porter’s body over the rail into the cold black waters below.
Their boss, who stood a foot less in stature, looked over the rail and back at one of his men who loomed above him.
“Now, you two leave and search Peter’s room,” their boss ordered.
He dusted the memory of these two interruptions to his life as one would brush away a speck of lint from their clothing. No one challenges Vernon McCarthy.
Chapter 2
Packing
Splash!
The sudden slap against my back awoke me. My eyes opened to the night sky and the chill of the black water enveloped my body. A huge edifice loomed before me as I drifted away. Rocking back and forth upon the liquid black ink, I could no longer see the grand ship as the floating city grew smaller.
“Ahhhh,” I inhaled and then I coughed to get the chocking sensation out of my throat.
Sitting straight up from my sleeping position, I tore off my wet nightshirt. I grabbed my water bottle to sooth my airway, and rose out of bed to head for the bathroom. After I splashed water on my face, I looked up into my mirror above the sink.
“God, I haven’t had this bad of a dream since my Henry died,” I thought gazing into my reflection.
I patted my face dry and walked over to my upholstered chair. There I picked up my tshirt and denim jean I had laid there last night. My black toy poodle wandered in to the bedroom. I’m Susan Edwards. I live in Firth, Idaho, which is a small town of 471 farm people and workers that grow grows potatoes and wheat. I’m not a farmer but a town gal, a recent widow. At least it feels recent.
Almost a year ago, my husband was murdered. With the help of my friends, we discovered who ran his car off the Snake River Bridge in Blackfoot, Idaho south of here. You see, I was a total wreck then and Trisha, my neighbor, and good friend helped me out with the little things around the house, like feed my dog or find someone to mow my lawn. I wasn’t able to cope with taking care of all the technical repair jobs my Henry did around the house at that horrid
I always reflect on the moment in time. What if I hadn’t been sucked into that hollow planet called Vesda? If I hadn’t met the people living there, would I have discovered who killed my husband? I guess I’ll never know.
Last Christmas was the best one ever with all my friends in town, my unusual acquaintances from the defunct World of Vesda, and my sister who lives in Idaho Falls north of here. Everyone came to my home. That’s when I decided to give Trisha and Larry Paige a present for all their help when my husband died and assistance when I got into trouble.
After Henry died, I inherited a large payment of insurance money and gave my dearest friends two airline and cruise tickets to Hawaii. I wanted them to have something for their time and for being there for me when I needed them. Trisha came back and said, “Friendship is the only gift friends need.” At first, I thought they would turn me down when they went off alone to talk about it. They returned and showed they had bought me a ticket so I could go with them. That was two months ago and now I realized on this Monday our plane flight is in two days, this Wednesday.
From under my small flower vase on the vanity, I pulled out the paperwork for my airline ticket and the cruise key pass I had received in the mail. One of them was a brochure.
“The Swedish Star is one of the largest cruise ships in the Pacific Rim that sails from seven to eleven days around four of the Hawaiian Islands. The average ship length of this fleet is nine hundred and sixty-five feet long and sixteen decks high. Cabins vary in price and space from a simple style of having one porthole or none to the lavish suites on the top decks with wide windows and balconies. Capacity is 3500 people including the ship’s crew.”
I stuffed the valuable documents deep into my large purse on the chair. Looking around my bedroom, trying to decide what to do next, I glanced over my to-do list and noticed that I’d better call my friend, René, about watching my dog while I’m on out of town.
Henry, my late husband, and I took a trip to Hawaii years ago, but he’s gone now. “God, how I miss him,” I thought. If it wasn’t for that awful woman who murdered him, we could both be enjoying this trip. Pushing the sorrowful memories to the back of my mind, I thought about my next project on my list, locating my suitcase.
While I rummaged in the closet, my little black poodle trotted into the bedroom and pawed on my slacks to see what I was doing. I struggled a bit but I managed to pull my rolling luggage out from under the shoeboxes and hanging clothes. At first, I couldn’t recall the last time I had to use this suitcase but then I remembered when Henry and I stayed at the lodge in Yellowstone. Our visit was just before Thanksgiving. Now that was a confusing holiday. Oh well, I sighed and turned around to address my dear little Mickie.
“I’d better call René before I forget,” I said to him.
He looked up at me with those liquid black eyes of his while I pulled out my phone from my pants pocket. Locating my friend’s phone number in my contact list, I pressed the call symbol to ring her phone.
“Hello, René. It’s Susan Edwards. I’m good. Yes, time has flown faster than I realized. I fly out of Idaho Falls this Wednesday. Yes, in two days. That’s right, I still need you to take care of Mickie if you can. I’d hate to put him in a kennel. When I do, he acquires too many bad habits from the other dogs. Great. Can you come over this afternoon or tomorrow? Thank you. I’ll show you where I keep his food and while you are here, I can give you the keys to my back door. I’ll be here this afternoon. Bye.”
I reconnected with René when I decided to enroll in a pottery class last fall held once a week on Main Street. She’s in our church but her children are much younger than mine, preventing us from socializing in the same circles. René is about my height but slimmer than I. She wears her hair short and brushed up on top. I would like to try that someday but for right now, I love my dangling blond curls. I opened my suitcase and found a few Yellowstone brochures and an old granola bar I had forgotten to remove. I tossed them into my waste can near my vanity mirror.
“Well, that’s one task down and 10,000 more to go,” I told my dog as I checked the zipped pockets.
All of a sudden, my dog looked at me, stopped to perk his ears up, and as if a silent alarm went off I couldn’t hear. He turned and ran toward the kitchen barking. By the time I scrambled after him, I could hear someone knocking at the back door. Some of my friends don’t use the doorbell.
I opened the door and my friend, Thyla, appeared with the cold February air drifting in behind her.
“Come in. Where’s Jack?” I asked, closing the door against the winter wind as she stepped past me into the kitchen.
“Oh, he stopped to talk to someone about gears and such down at the hardware store,” she said, trying to take her hooded sweatshirt off.
My dog knows what type person she is as he slinked back to his bed by the kitchen heat vent to avoid her. I’ll tell you right now, Thyla is not from Earth. She has a light patterned fur all over her arms and legs. Her nose is small with short white hairs. I call her a cat woman. I met her inside Vesda when the two scientists, Fin and Cal, sucked me out of my living room into their world. Thyla and I became friends when I gave her hope of leaving that inside-out world.
“Let me help you with that,” I said, grabbing the bottom hem to undo the garment. As I pulled her hoodie I had given her for Christmas over her head, her patterned cattail unfurled. Mickie began growling from his little bed by the kitchen table.
“Thanks, this sweater has been a lifesaver in the cold weather you have here,” Thyla said, stretching her arms toward the ceiling.
“Here, I just made some hot tea if you want,” I offered. “Let’s go into the living room. Don’t mind Mickie. He’s just protecting his turf.”
“Thanks, tea will be fine,” she replied, walking behind me.
After removing her shoes, she chose my large plump recliner by the roaring fireplace and curled her long legs into the chair. She fluffed her tail and wrapped it around her feet.
“I hear you are going to the land of warmth,” she said, adjusting her position and licking the palms of her furred hands.
“I am. I can hardly wait. This winter has been especially cold this year,” I said and set her hot cup of tea on the table near her. I sat down in one of my upholstered chairs on the other side of the flickering gas fireplace.
Thyla wiped both sides of her small nose with her moist hands. She didn’t have long whiskers, just small white strands she keeps trimmed near her pink nose.
“Well, I for one wouldn’t want to float on water all that time,” she said, shuddering at the image she imagined.
“Well, I for one wouldn’t want to float on water all that time,” she said, shuddering at the image she imagined.
“They’re pretty safe.” I said, still watching the flames. Something about the ocean came to mind.
“Susan, is something wrong? You seem far away.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I just remembered a bad dream I had this morning. What were you saying? Oh, the only danger you have on board is someone transmitting a virus,” I said, recovering from my reverie.
“Who’s going to watch Mickie?” she said, returning to stir the hot liquid with one of her long clawed fingers.
“René. I don’t know if you remembered her. She took pottery lessons with me. Mickie will stay here and will continue to go outside through his doggy door. But my friend will come over and feed him.”
“Have you heard from Hobbs lately?” She asked while I stirred my spoon in the hot tea to cool it down.
“No, has he been up to something? Wait, I don’t want to know. I want to leave on my trip with a clear mind and not get involved with his next great foolishness.”
“No, actually he’s been good. Right now he’s staying in the cottage we remodeled for him at the far eastern corner of our property for the last couple of weeks. I think living underground with his fairy and elf friends is too cold for a man his age. But we rarely ever see him during the day.”
“Good, oh, you know what I’d like to have before I leave? One of Bosloe’s famous stew,” I said.
Just before I took a sip of my hot tea, I thought I saw something in the black liquid. I poked the beverage and the speck faded away.
“Something in your cup?” Thyla asked.
“I thought so, but it’s gone now. Maybe one of the tea leaves escaped the bag. “Why don’t you and Jack join me, my treat.”
