It is so weird at breakfast. I realize that with different shifts, passengers are on different time schedules. I just can’t get my head around it. There are two groups roaming around the boat at any one time, while one shift sleeps. While we are ready for breakfast at 8:00 a.m., the next shift after us has gone to their cabins having presumably had their dinner at 6:00 a.m. or so (and how on earth could you be hungry for dinner so early in the morning?) and the other shift are hungry for… I’ll really need to try and work it out.
I’m so glad Jade is an original passenger, so she’s on the same shift as me. Yesterday, when we agreed to meet at the pool again, we didn’t know if we would still see each other at meals. When we were by the pool, we hadn’t really understood the full extent of the crowding. It will be impossible to be together at mealtimes now, unless we designate a spot to meet. Our friendship (is that what this is?) isn’t at that stage yet, although I secretly hope it will be soon.
Finally it’s time to meet Jade. When I got dressed this morning, I put on my new bikini under my clothes, looking forward to my swim later today. I hope she’ll like my new bathers. I ask Simone at breakfast if she’ll be so kind as to wheel Sheryl around for a while. I feel a bit guilty about that, but Simone readily agrees, as she probably thinks it’s quite a burden on me having to do it all the time when we aren’t even related. I say goodbye to Sheryl, who doesn’t seem to mind that I’m abandoning her, and leave her with Simone.
But it’s difficult to get to the edge of the pool today, as people are everywhere all over the deck. Sun lounges have six or more people sitting upright on them, three or four on either side. There is no way anyone would be selfish enough to lie down on one all by themselves, and even if they tried, I doubt other passengers needing a seat would allow them to stay there like that. The edge of the pool has people sitting squashed side by side, their feet dangling in the water to keep cool. The pool itself is just wall-to-wall people. You could only stand up in the water. You couldn’t even do dog paddle.
This is freaky. I feel like we’re human rats in an awful experiment. Everyone has lost their individuality, with so many of us trying to gain just a little space in the sun for ourselves.
I wonder about my towel. There’s no way I’ll be able to hang on to that. If I put it down, it will be quickly lost or taken. Well, who needs a pool towel? It’s so hot, I’ll just dry off immediately anyway—that is, if I’m lucky enough to even get into the pool to get wet.
Finally I spot Jade, who is on the opposite side of the pool. I can see she is scanning heads in the water, and I really hope that it’s me she’s looking for. Slowly I edge around, squeezing my way between people, until finally I’m beside her. She grabs my hand with relief. It feels strange. The skin on her hand is so much softer than Zac’s, and her hand is much smaller. I can feel her fine bones beneath mine.
“I thought I wouldn’t be able to find you,” she says.
I’m amazed at the strength of passion in her voice. Perhaps all this weirdness has made her really appreciate a familiar face. But I hope it’s more than that.
What is happening to me?
I squeeze her hand back. It feels so good to have a friend in among all this craziness.
“We won’t get into the pool today, I don’t think,” I say. I’m disappointed about not being able to show off my new bikini, but I have to be realistic.
“I doubt it too. Unless they put the swimmers into shifts as well, but I guess they’ve got too much else to organize without that.”
She gives me a cheeky grin.
I laugh. She’s funny.
“Let’s go look at the wake, then,” I suggest. I know it will take us ages to get through all the crowds on the deck to the back of the boat, but I figure that will give us more time together anyway.
She holds my hand as we walk away from the pool, perhaps so we won’t lose each other in the swirling sea of people. Maybe I can get used to this. Her hand feels so warm and reassuring, when everything else around us seems to be falling apart.
Jade isn’t limping as much today, but we still make slow progress due to the crowds. When we finally get to the stern of the boat, we find a lot of others have the same idea, but at least we manage to get a spot on the rail and can lean out, looking at the wake and talking. It’s quite noisy with the sound of the propellers and the wind, but we manage. We have to squash in really close together and speak into each other’s ears to hear what the other is saying, and I’m really enjoying this feeling of intimacy. I can smell her shampoo on the breeze.
I could get used to this.
I like the way she holds my hair back with her soft fingers, so her mouth can get close to my ear without the wind flicking my hair into her face. I can sense her lips almost touching my earlobes, so I lean in closer to feel their feathery softness against my skin. I can feel her warm breath on my neck. My stomach flips around a bit, and I feel all weak inside. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this kind of thrill with Zac.
I hold her hair back the same way when I answer her. I think I want more, but we’re surrounded by people and there’s no privacy. It’s hard to concentrate on our conversation because I feel so strange, but I know we speculate about what our families are doing, and what’s going to happen to us. I still don’t mention Zac. It doesn’t seem right somehow. Like it would spoil this special moment. We stay there for hours.
We’re getting restless. It’s now been six days we’ve been stuck on this ship with no chance to go on shore to stretch our legs or see new sights. All we’ve seen since we’ve been allowed out of our cabins is miles and miles of ocean and the far-distant, departing mounds of Levy Archipelago, and it’s starting to get monotonous.
Starting to? Am I losing my mind?
It’s been monotonous for days. The only thing now is Jade and I are beginning to develop a friendship, which helps. A lot.
When it’s finally time for dinner, we go in together. Jade still holds on to my hand. I don’t want to let go either. A few people stare down at our hands, then back up to our faces, but I can tell they don’t know if we’re just being friendly or if it’s more. I don’t even know myself. All I know is it’s great to be able to continue to see her for a few more hours. We’re seated at a table of about ten or twelve people, but it feels as if we’re in a little private cocoon of our own.
Dinner over, we still have several hours to fill in until we can return to our cabins. We miss all the entertainment choices we had before but decide to go and look in the theater anyway. Perhaps we can find a seat there for a while if nothing else. It’s hard having to stand up most of the day due to lack of seating space on the ship now that there are so many people on board, and Jade says her ankle gets sore having to be on it so much.
We make our way slowly through all the milling people, Jade laughing and walking just behind me, keeping her hands pressed lightly on my hips, so as not to be separated in the crowd. Her hands burn through my light cotton dress. As we wander through one of the bars, with a metal grill pulled down over the shelves lined with bottles of alcohol, she grabs my hand and drags me over toward a piano. She sits down on the piano stool and lifts the lid. I don’t know what to expect, but she begins to play. Beautifully. People soon stop their conversations and crowd around her, transfixed by her spellbinding music. Her fingers fly over the keys. It’s over as quickly as it started, and people begin clamoring for more. She plays another piece and the room is still. After she finishes there is a long silence, and then the clapping begins.
“More! More!”
Jade smiles up at me and puts the lid down.
“That was awesome,” I say.
“Let’s go,” she replies.
We push our way through the crowds. Finally we arrive at the Vista Theater. When I open the door, we find we aren’t the first to think of this idea. The theater is full of people, most of whom seem to be dozing in their seats. It’s fairly quiet in here, as those speaking are trying to whisper so as not to disturb
the sleepers. We find a spot on the steps and sit down on the floor, Jade behind me, grateful to find a place to rest our weary legs. We’d feel guilty taking a proper seat when so many of the passengers are older than us.
I can feel Jade’s knees pressing onto either side of my shoulders, and then I feel her hands in my hair, her nails raking over my scalp. She tells me she is making me a french braid. Rosa and I often help each other with our hair. I love having someone taking care of me—it seems so long since I have experienced that. Zac never plays with my hair. I close my eyes and enjoy the sensation. My body tingles all over. Her clever fingers—piano and french braids. Jade is a total surprise.
Much sooner than I want, it’s time to head back to our cabins for our sleep shift. Jade and I drag ourselves back up from the steps and leave the theater. I could have stayed there all night sitting with Jade and getting to know her better, but I know Sheryl will be worried if I don’t come back to our cabin, and that wouldn’t be fair to her.
We reluctantly say good night, looking at each other carefully. She takes a tentative step forward, and then I do too. Suddenly we’re hugging, and I can feel her soft breasts pressing into mine. The smell of her sweetly scented hair takes my breath away. This seems so right. Different from Zac. Better. Warmer. I can’t say anything—no words will come out of my thick throat. The world has changed for me.
We drop our arms, Jade smiling shyly at me, and we go our separate ways. As I wander back to my cabin, I am filled with such strange feelings, and I realize I’m shaking. I just don’t know what’s going on. I really like Jade and she seems to feel the same, but this is something I’ve never experienced before. I’ve never felt so close to another female, not in this way. I wish I had Rosa to talk to about all the emotions surging through me right now. Although I’m not sure I could even find the right words to explain them.
Back in our cabin, reminded by Marta’s huge stomach, I’ve soon got a distraction from my thoughts about Jade as I flick through the glossy folder full of information about the facilities on the ship. There is a doctor on board, as Sheryl had thought. But there’s only a phone number to ring, which isn’t much use to me, as the ship’s phones haven’t worked since we were first taken from the island. So I know we can’t get any information that way.
I remind Sheryl we can’t literally “call” the doctor, but that I will have to physically go and get him or her to come when the baby’s arrival is imminent. I decide I’ll need to go exploring tomorrow to find out where the “hospital” on the ship is, so we won’t be caught out.
I tell Marta what I’m going to do, and her smile is warm and grateful. Our concern must be making her have increased confidence in us, as tonight when we’re all lying in our beds and I ask her about her little shell, which she has yet again placed on her bedside table, she begins to talk about their old life on Levy Archipelago. Simone joins in with her own stories. We’re starting to have an appreciation of what living there is like. They tell us of the years of worry as the tides have relentlessly risen, and all the changes that have happened to their islands because of that. The failed seawalls and sandbagging, the flooding houses, rusty cars, the salty-tasting drinking water, the damaged crops.
They reveal that many of the islanders had wanted to bring their animals with them when they were leaving, and how some had at first refused to go because they weren’t allowed to take them. Apparently their belongings were carefully searched before they boarded, in case any small pets were being smuggled onto the ship. Both Marta and Simone are worried about the long-term fate of everyone’s pets and livestock.
“The poor creatures,” says Marta. “We’ve had to leave them all to drown. I keep thinking of the sea level rising and the animals clambering to higher ground until they have nowhere else to go. You know the highest point on our island is only about three meters above sea level.”
We’re all quiet as that fact sinks in.
Marta continues. “They’ll all be squashed together in smaller and smaller areas and there won’t be enough for them to eat, and the water will be lapping around their legs. It’s such an unbearable thought.”
I realize I haven’t thought about that before—I’ve only thought about people being displaced by rising sea waters, and even that only superficially. It hasn’t occurred to me to consider all the animals that will be affected too. At school, we talk about rising sea levels due to global warming, about crops being inundated and water becoming too saline to drink, and how people will have to move, but we’ve never once talked about what will happen to all the animals. It’s now so obvious to me. They’ll drown. I can’t believe I’ve had such a simplistic view of the world before, and I feel like a veil is being lifted from my eyes as I listen to Marta and Simone talk about how important the animals are to the local islanders. They think it will be hard for many of the population to settle into a new life in a strange land without them, as they will be heartbroken knowing their fate.
When our conversation peters out and my cabin occupants seem to have finally drifted off to sleep, I find myself lying awake, thinking about the pitiful future awaiting the Levy Archipelago animals. It’s just so distressing imagining what’s going to happen to them back there. I try to distract myself from those awful images by recalling how it felt to hug Jade so tight. I’ve never felt so close to anyone before. Not even Zac or Rosa. It was different. More complete. And I want to feel it again.
Chapter Eight: Day Seven Ship
AFTER BREAKFAST, and with Sheryl safely in Simone’s hands once more, I take the opportunity to go off in search of the doctor. I go to the information desk in the reception area of the ship first, seeing as the phones no longer work, but there is no one at the desk. Probably doing cooking or washing-up duties now instead. I decide to systematically search on every deck to see what I can suss out.
Of course I remember we’ve been told we’re only allowed on our own sleeping deck or in public spaces, but they have long since given up trying to police that, due to the huge numbers of passengers milling about at all times of the day and night. No one would know who is supposed to be on what deck anymore—except it would be fairly obvious if men are walking around on a women’s level or vice versa. The only rule that is really strictly enforced is having to get out of your cabin at the appointed time, as the next shift are there waiting outside the door, ready to come in and go to bed for their precious allotted time.
I don’t think the hospital will be on any of the public entertainment decks, so I decide I’ll leave them till last if I have no luck below. There are five decks of passenger cabins, from the ones with balconies like I’d shared with Mum and Rosa—I feel a lump in my throat when I think about that, but I can’t stop and wallow in my own emotions, as it’s too important to help Marta—through to cabins with windows (ocean view I think they’re called) through to the interior ones like we’re in now. They surely wouldn’t put a clinic in a room with a balcony, or even one with a view, as they wouldn’t care about giving patients somewhere to look outside, so I think I’ll start right down in the bowels of the ship first.
Finally, after searching through several floors, I find an internal door that says Medical Center. At least it doesn’t call itself “hospital,” so that makes it seem less serious somehow.
I boldly walk in. The people in there are busy tending to an old man who seems to be having a heart attack or something like that. They either don’t notice me or decide to ignore me as they have something so much more important to deal with than a nosy passenger. Or maybe they think I’m a relative of his coming to see how things are going.
I look around the room, and it seems to have a lot of equipment. It looks like the emergency department of a hospital. I’ve only been in emergency once, when Dad fell off a ladder and broke his arm, and we spent hours in there waiting for him to be attended to before finally getting help. There are heaps of machines that look to me like monitors of some sort, and maybe a defibrillator like I’ve seen in sever
al locations around the promenade deck. There must be an awful lot of people on cruises who have heart problems, with so many defibrillators scattered around the place. Any wonder, with all the mounds of food passengers eat during a cruise. Before the ship was taken over, the amount of food some people had on their plates at the all-you-can-eat buffet was appalling. You’d think they couldn’t go back for seconds. The worst part is, they probably did go back for seconds and have yet another pile. And then do the same with dessert. I’d noticed some passengers had two or even more helpings of dessert. Ugh! That’s just plain greedy. With all the new passengers on board, the mood is quite different, and people only take what they really need to keep hunger at bay. Maybe some of them are so upset they don’t feel like eating much anyway.
There are three beds in the medical center, and the man being tended to is lying on one of them. Finally one of the medical staff turns and notices me.
“What do you want?” she asks brusquely. I suppose she’s pretty busy and doesn’t want to have to deal with an unwanted intruder.
“I’m just trying to find out about this place.”
“Why?” she asks. “Are you sick? If not, you’d better leave. You can see we’re in the middle of an emergency.”
“It’s not me I’m here for. One of the women who’s sharing our cabin looks like she’s about to have her baby any day now. I was wondering what to do if the baby starts to come while we’re still on the ship.”
“That’s all we need,” she says sounding exasperated. “Women aren’t supposed to come on board if they’re more than twenty-four weeks pregnant.”
“As if she had a choice,” I snap back. “She’s not a normal cruise passenger!”
I’m getting sick of her negative attitude, when all I’m doing is trying to get help for Marta.
If only Rosa could see me now.
Jilda's Ark Page 6
