Author's Note: Just a warning. The narrative is changing to first person for the next few chapters. The characters speaking will vary.
Chapter 7
In the 20 something years I've known the bastard I've never seen him like this. I think he's lost his bloody mind.
And so here I am freezing my arse off in icy, cold waters. Patrick shines a light in my face. I could kill the bastard. He did this to me. I am screaming at him half-wondering how this even happened.
3 ½ minutes earlier
I left the mess hall and headed back for my room when I saw Ronnie, one of the other deck officers on watch.
"Hey Bob! Come here, Man. Come check this out."
My curiosity was piqued.
He was standing in front of the railing looking out over the water.
"What is it?" I asked him.
"Come check it out. It's the damnedest thing, so it is!" he told me.
I walked over to him and stood beside him. He pointed to someplace off in the distance.
I was puzzled. "What?"
"Don't ya see it, Bob?" Ronnie asked me still pointing toward the vast blackness.
"No," I replied shaking my head, crinkling my brows. "I don't see…."
Then all of a sudden I felt strong arms grasping my legs which then proceeded to toss me overboard.
I hit the water arse first; my arms flailing about. Then I swam up to the top coughing and sputtering. A light shone in my face. Patrick told Ronnie something I couldn't make out and Ronnie walked away laughing.
"Patrick!" I screamed up at him; the light still shining on me. "What the hell is this about?"
Patrick raised an eyebrow. "The letter," he said simply.
OH.
"Aw c'mon, Patrick! I don't know what yer talking about!" I yelled up to him paddling my arms and kicking my feet wildly in an attempt to get used to the brine. Not a chance in hell of that happening.
"Yer a liar, Bob," he said and I could see his breath as he spoke.
"No, I ah'ment," I yelled back up at him.
"Now I'm only going to ask you one question. What did you do?" he asked simply as though inquiring about the weather.
"Patrick, for Christ's sake, I don't have any feeling in my balls! Help me!" I cried out; my teeth chattering between syllables.
"What...did...you...do, Bob?" he asked again but slowly without even a trace of anger.
"Please! Ya gotta be kidding me!"
"Uh oh, Bob," he said with mild concern looking and pointing up at the sky. "Looks like rain."
Flip! I looked up at the stormy clouds. All I needed was freezing rain beating down on me.
Still furiously paddling I gave in. I smiled sheepishly up at him. "Heh heh. I took Frankie's letter and put it in with Marie's," I told him with chattering teeth.
Patrick smiled victoriously. He knew I would've denied it till my grave.
"Ya shouldn't have done that, Bob, but I'm glad ya told me," he nodded. Then he called out loudly, "Man overboard! Man overboard!"
Six of our crewmen rushed to help lower a lifeboat for me. Two of them inside it helped me in. They covered me with a blanket. While the lifeboat was being hoisted up my mind raced with all the various methods of revenge I might exact on my old friend. But then I sighed knowing it could've been a lot worse. He is a champion schemer, I have come to learn over the years.
Patrick got in a heap of trouble from the captain that night but he didn't care. We were three days away from Glasgow now. His sailing career was over, as far as he's concerned.
"Goodbye, Thomas and thank you again for dinner," I told Thomas quickly giving him a peck on the cheek. I opened my front door and scrambled inside.
"Wait...but ...Lizzie."
I peeked at him through the crack in the door. "Good night!" I added quickly closing the door in front of me.
I stood there at the door watching him through the peephole to make sure he was gone.
He had tried to kiss me but I wouldn't let him. I could still picture the hurt look on his face. I couldn't help it. I wasn't ready for that...from him. At this point, I didn't know if I'd ever be.
Frankie tapped me on the shoulder, startling me causing me to scream. I turned around and faced my displeased son.
"Frankie! You shouldn't sneak up on me like that," I told him as we headed for the kitchen.
Laying there on the kitchen table I noticed some paper and a pencil. I glanced at it as I passed the table to fill up the tea kettle.
Frankie tapped on me again trying to get my attention. His brows were crinkled as he signed angrily, "Why are you still seeing him?"
"Frankie, he's a good man...and sometimes adults need to spend time with other adults," I explained.
Frankie shook his head and gestured to the paper on the table. It was the letter from Patrick and a letter that Frankie started and a few blank pieces of paper.
I sighed. I didn't know if I'd be able to make him understand. "Patrick is a good man too, Frankie…but...he's a sailor and he's away most of..."
Frankie interrupted me by waving his hands and writing on paper. "Patrick is coming back," he wrote.
This alarmed me. Was this some kind of boyish wish he had or had Marie told him something?
I shook my head. "No, Frankie, he's not coming back…not for a long time."
He wrote again,"He said we're all connected." Then he looked up at me. I started to open my mouth to refute it but then he wrote again,"He is coming back. I know it's true because I can feel it."
I gasped inwardly. Not because this was some fantasy or longing that Frankie had but because for the past few days I had felt it too.
