Chapter Eleven
They were safe. Well, as safe as anyone, who had faked his own death, kidnapped a child, assumed a new identity, exited a country illegally, intended to enter another, not 100% sure it was entirely safe either, could be. But for the next week, the past was behind them, the future a blank slate. There was only now.
Routines were established as they settled into a life together. The journey was often monotonous, the days rolling into one another, but it provided them all with an opportunity: time, few distractions, forced togetherness, a chance to start anew, a chance to learn how to be a family.
Their daily lives aboard ship fell into a familiar pattern. Michael and Charlie would rise early; eat breakfast together in the canteen, often bringing tea and toast back to the cabin for Fiona. Charlie was in charge of carrying the toast, remembering to spread a thin layer of jam before wrapping it up in a napkin. Michael carried the mug of tea. Both would tiptoe back into the cabin in case Fi was sleeping, but she was always awake. Charlie would climb into bed next to her as she had her breakfast and would chatter about whatever he heard during his meal.
Michael and Fiona fulfilled their work detail. A few hours each day, each assumed the minimal duties assigned. Michael's tasks were varied. He did some maintenance painting, tinkered with some machinery, moved equipment, and even did some general cleaning. Fiona begrudgingly served her kitchen duty, often chopping vegetables, or washing dishes. It wasn't that she minded work. It was the type of work that irked her. She would have much preferred the tasks Michael was given. Michael had listened to her complain about the rampant sexism aboard the ship on several occasions. He had learned to listen, sympathize, and make no comment.
There was also a small gym on board for the use of crew and passengers alike. Fiona and Michael took turns making use of the facility, as well as, jogging on deck. They also found time to rediscover their life as a couple, before recent events tore them apart. Michael and Fiona reconnected on many levels. They were well aware of their own needs, making sure they built some "together" time into their day. When Charlie napped, they talked in whispers, closing some of the gaps the past year had created. For the very first time in their relationship, they were both of one mind, one purpose. The rest of the time was spent with Charlie, sometimes individually, sometimes together.
Fiona and Charlie played with toys together. Sometimes it was dinosaurs, sometimes it was army men, sometimes it was dinosaurs versus army men. Fiona learned the name of every dinosaur, its diet, habitat, and enemies. Charlie learned the type of apparatus each soldier carried, its purpose, its defensive or offensive capabilities, its strengths and weaknesses. Their imaginations ran wild as they crawled about the cabin creating scenarios for their game.
Michael and Charlie engaged in different activities. They spent hours together, walking around the ship, often hand in hand. Charlie asking questions about what things were and how they worked, Michael patiently explaining. Sometimes, with permission of the crew, they took things apart, sometimes they put things together, sometimes they did both. Michael learned how to phrase complicated terms and ideas into simpler ones that a child could understand. Charlie learned to handle a few tools safely, follow directions, and had an outlet for his keen observation skills.
When they were all together, they had picnics on the deck, if the weather cooperated. They threw darts in the lounge, Michael and Fiona believing it was never too early to develop hand eye coordination, essential for aiming any type of propelled device. They went on caustic chemical scavenger hunts. Charlie learned to quickly identify biohazard signs. Michael and Fiona, Charlie alternating between the two, challenged each other in slingshot contests, arguing over distance travelled, accuracy, and difficulty of material used. They also taught Charlie to count to ten-in seven different languages!
Dinners were a community event on a cargo ship, the crew and its few passengers eating together, the meals simple yet plentiful. Charlie gathered a host of admirers especially among the retirees. The only problem was the constant reminder to Charlie about playing house, remembering the game, pretending Fi was "Ma" and Michael was "Da". Michael and Fiona continued to be uncomfortable with this ruse, but it was necessary to keep them all safe.
The evenings were spent with all three piled together, reading a bedtime story or creating one of their own, everyone taking a turn to add to it. Their stories were often filled with explosions and often ended with laughter. This was Charlie's favorite part of the day. He felt safe. He felt loved. When his eyes began to close, Michael lifted him into his bunk. Fiona tucked him in. Then, they both planted goodnight kisses on his forehead. He often drifted off to sleep dreaming of dinosaurs romping through mine fields.
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One day differed from all the rest. The cabin was plastered with colorful pieces of paper, each one with a large "4" emblazoned on it. Charlie opened his eyes, amazed at the sight before him. "I'm four!" A tremendous shout upon the realization that his birthday had finally arrived.
"Happy Birthday, Charlie!" Michael gave him a 'high four' plunging Charlie into a fit of laughter. Fiona repeated the birthday greetings accompanied by a giant hug. Michael placed three boxes on his bed wrapped in blue paper sealed with duct tape. Both adults watched intently for Charlie's reaction to this windfall.
"Presents!" Charlie squealed as he opened the first box, a Lego-like kit to build a P-51 Mustang plane. Fiona smiled approvingly at Michael, gently placing a hand on his back. Charlie tore into the second package, paper flying in all directions. "Whoa!" An expression of approval as Charlie opened the second package. Fiona looked at the box, and then she focused on Michael, a glare on her face, "An F-18? Really?" Clearly, Fiona still had issues with their close call in Panama. She removed her hand from Michael's back, looking slightly annoyed.
Before further conversation could occur, Charlie picked up the last gift. This time he opened the wrapping more slowly, savoring the moment of this final surprise. Once unwrapped, he stared at the contents, mesmerized, finally saying, "Now, I can be a real secret agent!" Fiona read the title of the box: "Spy Guy: Secret Mission Set". Tears formed in her eyes as she moved her gaze toward Michael.
"You said to go with what I know." He said these words somewhat sadly, wondering perhaps that he had made a poor selection, not wanting to disappoint Fi and especially, not Charlie, unable to read her reaction.
Fiona replied, "That I did... it's perfect." She encircled his waist with her arm, leaning closely against him. Charlie ripped into the box unloading its contents. There were a pair of binoculars, rear view sunglasses, a set of walkie-talkie wristwatches, a night vision scope, and several other gadgets.
"Can we play now, please?" Charlie was anxious to test out the new toys.
Michael thought for a moment before replying, "Even spies have to eat. Why don't we have some breakfast first? Maybe some pancakes?"
"Pancakes!" Charlie leapt out of bed, ready to get dressed and greet the day.
The celebration continued throughout the day. Toy pieces dotted the cabin floor. Charlie and Michael spent hours assembling the plane kit. Later, Charlie explained what the gadgets in his spy kit were used for, why they were important. "This," holding up one of the objects, "helps you see through walls so you can see what the bad guys are doing."
Fiona picked it up, shaking her head, "You're thinking of a thermal imagining camera. This is a night scope." Michael scowled at her, but she continued, undeterred, "If you are going to teach him to be a spy, make sure he's a good one."
"I don't want to be a spy." Charlie was adamant, a frown appearing on his face The adults were slightly taken aback, wondering what prompted such a strong reaction, reading perhaps more into the comment than was warranted. Charlie continued, "I want to be a train conductor, or, maybe an astronaut, or maybe a football player…" Michael and Fiona listened to all the possibilities Charlie imagined.
After dinner, a huge sheet cake emerged from the kitchen, the ship's cook eager to make the day a special one for the young passenger. Charlie's name was written in blue icing, the number "4" below it. There was even a side of strawberry ice cream to accompany the dessert. Crew and passengers alike joined in the singing of "Happy Birthday", as well as, "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow."
It wasn't the birthday that Madeline envisioned. There were no train or dinosaur decorations, no playmates, no party games, no Uncle Sam or Uncle Jesse. Charlie didn't seem to notice what was absent, he only knew what it was - a celebration. And it was theirs. Many years from now when Charlie was grown with a child of his own, Michael and Fiona would still remember this day fondly. It was the first of many shared milestones and would forever remain close to their hearts.
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The sea voyage provided a true escape for them all. It was not solely a means of transport but also a means of transition. Each moment, each nautical mile moved them further from Miami, further from the life they used to have. Bodies had time to rest, souls had time to heal. Adjustments would need to be made once they reached land but for now they were not only living, but also more importantly, they were living free.