Just Another Girl on the Road

by S. Kensington

  He took some of them over to her bunk and sat down to study them, amazed at her attention to detail. Then Farr sat upright, his mind snapping to attention. He remembered a few articles he’d read at the London USO, just before D-Day. They’d talked about using sonobuoys equipped with sonar to detect underwater submarines. He’d been interested and wanted to find out more. Couldn’t detection of this type be used in exploration? If the proper equipment were installed on a ship, if Earhart’s plane had sunk near a reef or island, couldn’t it work?

  His eyes, once again, caught the photo on the wall. It was Amelia. Her eyes seemed to be smiling down at him with an air of encouragement. He returned the maps to their tray and put his rucksack in the corner. Then he went back out, and up to the bridge.

  * * *

  Back in his office, Amparo carefully placed the small box into a wall safe. Then he settled onto the battered sofa next to Katrinka, studying his daughter’s face.

  “So this man. He is your sergeant.”

  “Yes Papa.”

  “And you love him?”

  “Very much.”

  “And you will marry him?”

  “I… I haven’t thought that far yet. Everything is so unsettled.”

  “Ah well, daughter, I will not advise you. I know you will do what you please, despite any warning from me.”

  “You would warn me?”

  Her father shrugged. “Love always comes with a warning. You are young, and your life stretches out before you. You expect many adventures, and I am sure you will have them. But if you should reach old age, and you have no one who shares your memories, the end of your life will be lonely. Do not wait too long to find this person.”

  “But Papa, you are old and alone. Even when A-mah was alive—”

  “Listen to me. I will be making only a few more runs. My job here in France is almost done. The war will continue in Europe, and in the Pacific, but I will be going home.”

  Astonished, she looked up. “Home?”

  “Back to Coronado. I want you to know this. You will have a place to return to. You may contact me through my solicitor, Gorges—you still have the address?”

  She nodded.

  “Good. He will tell you where I can be reached. You can also see him for any funding you might need. You will not be stranded here.”

  There was more he wanted to say, but he stood up with a sigh, “And I will take your dog. Wolf—his name is Wolf as well?”

  “No Papa, Rolf.”

  “Yes. He will soon get his sea legs and be good company for me.” Again, he hesitated. “Just remember, there is a home for you. It will be different of course, but…”

  She waited, but he did not continue.

  He sighed again. “And now I go to find your young man. I believe he wishes to speak with me before Wills’ arrival. Early tomorrow, we shall unload the supplies.”

  “Good night, Papa.”

  “Good night, minha filhinha.”

  Amparo waited until she left before sitting down to relight his pipe.

  So, she was in love. She’d been in love many times before, but he knew the signs and she had it badly.

  He remembered seeing his daughter for the first time. Holding Yujana in his arms that night, he’d asked, “Shall we call her Katrinka?”

  “Why Katrinka?”

  “It is my mother’s name.”

  “Yes, of course. It is a pretty name.”

  Yujana had never been maternal. She was quick to strike out in anger when Katrinka misbehaved. His own mother had observed it when they were in Porto, and told him there would be trouble when Trinkabella grew up.

  The trouble began sooner than that. Far from being cowed by her mother’s temper and lack of affection, Katrinka grew into a wild and willful girl, exploring her sexuality quite young.

  First, there had been that strong infatuation with Nye. That lasted… well, had she ever really gotten over it?

  Then there had been the numerous employees working on Emerson’s expeditions. The most serious had been Mshai, the eldest son of Emerson’s camel veterinarian, at his cave site in southwestern Egypt. Just seventeen years old, with dark, curly hair falling to his shoulders, golden skin, and large, black eyes. Katrinka had been attracted to him immediately.

  She was seen in the entranceway of his tent early one morning, half-naked and wrapped tightly in his embrace. She’d raised holy hell when both fathers stepped in. They ran away together one night, streaking out across the moonlit desert on a camel, headed for God knows where. Emerson and Mshai’s father had had to track them down. She was just thirteen at the time.

  And of course, before any of those, had been what both Emerson and Yujana referred to as ‘the incident’.

  They decided to send her to school in Switzerland, but her behavior continued to be outrageous, and she was suspended from the school. It was only through numerous donations to the board of directors that they’d managed to get her reinstated and educated. That was only a few years ago. Was it possible she had matured? Was she capable of having a relationship with this man? He sighed and rose from his seat. He’d better go and see what the young sergeant had to say about it all.

  * * *

  Amparo met Farr on the upper deck and studied him thoughtfully. Farr was a toughly built man of medium height, with sun-streaked hair and bruised gray eyes. He carried himself with quiet confidence, but he maintained the continual wariness of someone who had lost trust in the world.

  Both settled into cane chairs, and Amparo offered him a drink, which Farr refused.

  “No, sir, there is something I want to discuss with you, and it needs a clear head.”

  “Very well, let us sit here, where we can view the sea.”

  Farr got right to the point. “I thought I’d better speak to you about your daughter and me. I love her, and want to ask her to marry me as soon as the war is over.”

  Amparo sat back sighing. So here it was, already. “As to that, I would not recommend it.” He held up a hand as Farr started to speak. “You understand, I love my daughter. But she is of the same passion, the same temperament, as was her mother. Flighty and ill-suited to one man or one home. You would not be able to hold her. You would have to accept that fact.”

  Amparo saw anger flare in the young man’s eyes, stung by his words.

  Farr’s reply was equally blunt. “I’m not prepared to do that, sir. I don’t intend to have her wandering the face of this earth, coming back to me whenever she feels like it.”

  Amparo drew back, astonished and a bit angered. Was this rough-spoken man criticizing his daughter? Did he really think he would be able to control her? If so, he was in for a very rude awakening. He said drily, “What you want, Sergeant, and what my daughter wants may differ. You know of her desire to find the missing aviatrix.”

  “Yes, sir, she’s told me about that.”

  Amparo stared at him, frowning. Farr returned his gaze with steady eyes.

  Suddenly Amparo relaxed, emitting a sharp bark of laughter. “You were referring to her mother. Yes, that was the way with Yujana. But she always came back. I knew I was the one that truly mattered. It was a question of freedom for her. She needed it like we need air to breathe.”

  “Yes, sir, but I believe it can be done with Katrinka and me. She loves me, and I think she wants to make it work.” He added, with surprising insight, “She may not know that yet, but she’s still pretty young.”

  “Yes, she is very young. You would have rough going at the beginning, and I doubt she would ever settle to your kind of life.”

  “If she’s willing, I’d like to give it a try, sir.”

  Again, Amparo stared at the man. There was a certain surety, a fearlessness, in the way he spoke. He gave a small smile, murmuring his thoughts aloud.

  Farr leaned forward. “Sorry?”
>
  “Eh? Oh, just an old proverb my father used to say, ‘Amar e saber nao pode ser.’ Love and prudence do not go together.”

  Amparo stared out at the water for a long time after the young man left. He remembered the pain of being young and in love. Love and prudence do not go together—thank God for that.

  * * *

  Hours later, Nye and Amparo were still drinking in the galley.

  “So. What do you think about all this, Remi?”

  “He is a good man,” replied Amparo.

  “And they make a good couple.”

  Amparo’s reply was impatient, “No. No, they do not make a good couple. He is all wrong for her. You must know it.”

  Nye’s eyebrows shot up, “What—”

  Amparo snorted. “You know Katrinka would never settle down to the life this man wants her to live. He would break her heart. She would try to please him, because she loves him. But it would break her heart. And his as well.”

  “I think she might be willing to change for that love.”

  “My friend, forgive me, but I know a bit more about my daughter than you.” He paused. “And she is my daughter.”

  Nye went crimson.

  “Yes, the question of her parentage. He smiled sardonically. “We were all ‘in the running,’ as they say. You, me, and Emerson. I suppose it could have been any one of us. But then Emerson was sterile, and as she grew older, the resemblance, well, it simplified matters. But for a while… you remember how often we were taken for father and son. Our looks, so closely resembled.”

  “I remember you were more like a father to me than my own.”

  Amparo sat back, studying his friend. The war had taken its toll. He remembered Nye as a runaway boy. He’d asked no questions and offered him jobs doing the work no one else wanted: scrubbing the decks, cleaning the heads, and running errands. He’d been a quick learner and proved himself an excellent seaman.

  He’d left the ship soon after Emerson and Yujana. Until now, neither man had ever mentioned Nye’s night with her. Nye went back to his family when his mother was dying, to make amends. They’d kept in touch, and he learned that Nye had finished his schooling, gone to university, and later gotten married. But, in the fall of ’33, Nye met up with him in Calcutta and resumed his job on Le Flâneur. He was once more running away; this time from a broken heart and a messy divorce.

  Amparo continued, “Yes. Well, my friend, what I tell you now, your heart already knows. All these years Katrinka has loved you. First, as nothing more than a schoolgirl crush. It embarrassed you, and you ignored her. Rightly so. I thought this infatuation of hers would disappear, like so many others. But, as she grew older, it only grew stronger. Then, that night… that night you lost everything. She came into your cabin—”

  Nye blushed again. “She wanted to comfort me. I sent her away.”

  “And you left ship at the next port.”

  “It wasn’t just that, Remi. I was destroyed. I wanted nothing more to do with the sea. And then the war came.”

  “And you were afraid of your growing feelings for Katrinka. You saw her as a child. But she is a young woman now, with a young woman’s feelings. I do not need to tell you she’s had lovers in the past.”

  “Mshai.”

  “And others.”

  “Just what is it you are trying to tell me, Remi’?”

  “This man is unsuitable in every way, but he is determined. There is love, and a very strong sexual attraction. That is not enough. There must be a sharing of goals, of life’s purpose. And, with Katrinka, there must always be a flexibility and understanding. Her mother taught me that.”

  When Nye finally spoke, it was slowly, as if to himself. “I’m almost twenty years her senior.”

  “As was I, with Yujana.”

  Nye was silent then shook his head. “I couldn’t do it to Farr. They deserve their chance. Then, if it doesn’t work…”

  “At that point, it could be too late.”

  Nye replied, his voice tinged in anguish, “It has always been too late.”

  Neither man saw a shadow against the passage door dissolve and fade, as Katrinka fled back up the stairwell, her thirst forgotten.

  * * *

  Nye stayed in port a few extra days and then began working with Giraud on his return. Messages flowed in, and supplies were arriving by plane now that the airport was open. The French groups needed more ammunition and more equipment, and the demand for new-recruit training grew daily. That afternoon, he called Farr to his tent.

  “Do you remember Bouchard’s son? We suspected him of continuing his father’s job,” said Nye.

  Farr nodded. “Yes, sir. Surely this cannot matter now?”

  “He was captured in Paris, tried, and jailed. We just got the news. He’s escaped and headed this way.”

  “Why would he—”

  “He’s looking for the man and woman who killed his father.”

  Farr’s head jerked up. “What?”

  “He found out what happened the night of the delivery. He’s evidently sworn revenge for his father’s death.”

  “Does anyone know his whereabouts?”

  “They lost sight of him outside of Chatellerault.”

  Farr raised his eyebrows. “That’s not too far from here.”

  “I’m sure there is no need for concern. Just be careful, Sergeant. He probably won’t get this far. Both HQ and the Jeds are looking for him. But I thought you should know. No need to spread the alarm. Katrinka…”

  “Right, sir.”

  “Just keep your eyes open.”

  “Yes, sir. Will do.”

  * * *

  Farr was troubled; everything was changing so quickly. The Allies had joined forces from the north and south, driving the remaining Germans to the borders and a few coastal pockets to the west. Marseilles and other cities to the south were free to receive shipments. Some German troops, ordered to hold out in coastal strongholds near Bordeaux and La Rochelle, found themselves trapped and unable to leave.

  The mission of the Jed teams changed as well. He supposed he’d be sent back to England for more training and a different assignment. War still raged in the East. He voiced these doubts to Katrinka, who shrugged them off.

  When he persisted, she replied, her voice unhappy. “Yes, Wolfe, things will change. They always do. That’s why we must enjoy what we have now.”

  “It doesn’t hurt to look ahead a little,” he countered.

  “But why? Everything could be different tomorrow.”

  Her words echoed his own fears. He averted his eyes before she could see the pain in them.

  “You remember this?” She pulled the necklace with the silver medallion from her blouse, placing it in his hand. “He is Kairos, a Greek word for the special moment. See how he stands on tiptoe, running? You must grasp him by the forelock when he approaches. The back of his head is shaved and once he has passed there is nothing to hold. You must take your special moments when you see them.”

  He flipped the medallion back onto her breast, shaking his head. “That isn’t true. Two people can share a lifetime of special moments. You say you love me.”

  “I do love you, Wolfe. You must know it.”

  “Yeah, but it’s different for you. When I love somebody, I don’t hurt them. I take care of them. I don’t just walk away when the next adventure comes along, or the next person.”

  She winced. His words had hit a nerve.

  He hesitated. “You love the major, too.”

  Katrinka replied quietly. “That is the way it is, between Wills and me.”

  Farr looked away. He’d known, but it was painful to hear.

  She continued, “You want to be together, but you would grow tired of me and tired of the day-to-day chores that surround such a life. You would wonder what you were mis
sing in the world.”

  Farr shook his head. “No, Katrinka, that’s you. That’s not me. I wouldn’t be missing the world if I had you. You are my world.”

  She stared at him, mute. And after a moment, he turned and walked away from her.

  Katrinka returned to her small hut, angered by the conversation. Wolfe was wrong. The world was simply too large, too beautiful, and too vast for one person to be responsible for it all. One person should not be obliged to supply the whole world to another. And as for his being hurt—well, he was suffering under the assumption that she belonged to him. She wished she had thought to tell him that.

  * * *

  The team had moved to another site on the far edge of farmland. Work continued, but Katrinka and Farr’s relationship had become strained. Farr was using Valentine to do some of the simpler courier jobs. Nye noticed it and mentioned it to Giraud.

  The man shrugged. “A lover’s quarrel. He will soon be between her legs again, and all will be well.”

  Nye wasn’t so sure. Amparo’s words had haunted his consciousness for days.

  One evening he was crossing the farm field, heading back to camp after a meeting in the village. It had not gone well. Nye missed Raphael, and the man’s steady diplomacy.

  He saw Katrinka perched by herself on the wooden steps of a small stile in the meadow. He swung himself up on a step beside her, and she gave him a warm smile.

  “Can’t sleep?” he inquired.

  “I was just thinking.”

  “You’ve picked a good place.”

  “Everything is changing so fast, Wills.”

  “Yes, it seems we have them on the run. Farr out with the radio?”

  She nodded.

  “Is everything all right? Between you and Farr, I mean.”

  She shrugged, turning her gaze to the fields. The wind was ruffling, carrying the scent of long-bladed grasses.

  He studied her face. “Does he know?”

  His question surprised her. “Know what?”

  “About Josef.”

  “Why would I tell him that? It would only hurt him. Does it matter?”