The sea was calm, I can still see it. We had left San Francisco two days ago. The captain said, »Don’t look at the water for too long.« It reflected the sun, and my eyes hurt. I looked out for a while and time passed, the light was digging its way through the surface. It was emanating, but didn’t lose its path. No clouds, no birds and no land.
I looked at the orange Sir Williams gave me that morning. It’s not just an orange, we’re on a ship, he said. Without the stuff from home, you’re dead. »Do you understand, Private? Take it«, he said.
To me, it was just an orange. Sweet, bitter and muddy.
He was a rich man and he liked talking with the sailors and their wives. When I saw him he was usually reading or speaking.
»Now, tell me. What is an unhappy man like you doing here, Private?«
He would be back with more fruits and questions the next morning.
»I’m here to eat this orange and spend time with you, Sir Williams.«
He laughed.
What did he want? To know the reason for my journey, or to eat fruits with me? I thought about eating it, or throwing it into the blue, and put it back into my pocket.
The captain made his round. He demanded the crew to stay vigilant and not drink until they were off duty. Then he thanked them. Under me, the steel was heavy and the rail carried my arms. My head felt tired.
»I told you«, the captain said. »Do you still feel your feet? Never lose your footing.« He stopped next to me. »It’s easy to drift. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?«
I shook his hand. He was a tall man, dark-eyed and gentle. Always with his medals. He wore them honestly. I never wished to see him without them.
»Captain, why is it beautiful to you? Do you still love it?«
»Yes, Mr. Sullivan. I love this as much as I miss my wife. But you might love it more than I do-« He laughed. »You’ve been staring into it all day.«
»I have never been on a ship before.«
The people on deck were smoking, reading, drinking. They laughed, kissed and talked. Most of them young sailors with their families, waiting to reach the shores of Hawaii. To build houses near the military base and start over. We were all waiting.
»You have noticed it, Mr. Sullivan?«
»Noticed what?«
»They spend their time here. You don’t. You’re guessing.«
»They brought their wives. Mine is home. Yours too, Captain.«
»That’s not by chance.«
»Maybe we’re here because we must be. To return to our wives with no regret«, I said.
»Maybe«, he said.
»Will the weather stay calm?«, I asked.
»Until Hawaii, yes. I think so.« He turned from the Pacific Ocean, looked at the ship. »The passengers of Lady Southbound will celebrate tonight. A great band is on board. Drinks are cheap. Take care.«
I stood there until the sun sank and the men on deck began drinking. I had stared into the sea for so long, I got used to it. I still had to prepare the field journals and look through the equipment for my mission. I could always take care of that later. I wasn’t in a hurry, I thought. After a while the ocean turned even darker and looked strange to me, so I went looking for the dining room.
The waiter was very young. He looked at my U.S. Army uniform and nodded. »Sailor meal or passengers meal?«, he asked.
»Sailor meal«, I said.
He brought baked beans with eggs and ribs, set it down and saluted. I was surprised and thanked him.
I remembered the only time I thought of Hawaii before. When I was a boy, my mother bought a picture album and talked about it for months. She spoke of Honolulu, the sea, the new American islands, the volcanoes. She dreamed of seeing it, always, and my father grew tired of the dreaming. All the passengers would go on land in a few days, I would stay on deck. I wasn’t sailing to Hawaii, I was just passing it by. I thought of Naomi. I had seen her last when I took the train to San Francisco, weeks ago. The night before I left she asked me, what if we have a child, now? Will you stay? Will you give me your child now? She knew I was clueless. When I didn’t answer, she laughed and put her dress back on. »Fine, go play on the oceans«, she said. We never spoke of Hawaii, or Brazil, or Japan. All we had was in Minnesota. If she were here with me, on deck—waiting for Hawaii, for some new life—would she smile? I got tired and went back to my cabin.
I looked at my pistol, and put it on top of the blanket. I grabbed my Springfield and put it beside it. I knew I could rely on the Colt, a heavy and strong pistol. I had never killed, but I knew how to do it. Some veterans in Minnesota said the killing in the Great War had changed them forever. I never knew what to make of it. If I was some years younger, I would’ve been there, killing men in France. I opened the grip bag, it was heavy and full. Thermometer, barometer, hammers, bags and containers. Measuring tools, magnifying glasses, more bags. Books, journals, maps. My eyes wandered down the barrel of the colt. For a moment I was a child again, almost afraid, almost in awe of the forbidden thing on my blanket. My legs ached. I’d stood at the rail too long. I sat on the floor, rummaging through my gear like a toy box in the attic. I lifted the magnifier and peered through it. Each tool blurred, came clear, then faded again. All these things, so dull, so ordinary, when you look close. It felt good when the captain asked me to explore the island, now it was just me on a ship with a bunch of stuff. I threw it all into the bag and dragged it to the other end of the room. More freight in the loading area, wooden chests and rolled up packages, to go on land with me. Seeing all that stuff made me feel unwell. I thought of Naomi and lay down.
The mattress was cruel. Hours went by without rest. The ship hummed. Just beyond that thin layer of steel was the ocean, angry and cold. Water, all around me. I was surrounded by water. Every wave pushed me farther from Naomi, but I loved her more. After a while, my thoughts softened. I started to lose grip and drifted into ice cream, cool pool water, and warm grass. My uniform felt tight. Sweat ran down my neck. I thought about taking it off and opened my eyes. I really had left her behind in Minnesota. She was alone now.
Did she even miss me?