Carrying Albert Home

by Homer Hickam

  The man who turned toward Homer was gaunt as a scarecrow, his face cadaverous and horribly scarred. His cheeks were bewhiskered and one eye seemed to enjoy wandering off on its own. “Well,” he growled, “what do you have to say for yourself? Be careful. It will all go into the record.”

  Homer didn’t understand what the record was but he nevertheless said, “It started when I jumped off my fishing boat. . . .”

  “Deserted!”

  “No, sir. You see, my alligator—well, actually, he’s my wife’s alligator—he jumped off and I had to go in after him since—”

  “So far, all you’ve heard are lies, Captain,” Vintner said. “This man and his crocodile were on that smuggler’s boat. We hauled them out of the drink.”

  “Deserters and smugglers! Chief, what in blue blazes are you doing with criminals on my bridge? This will not abide! Is this all of them?”

  “Two more, sir, but they drowned. We’re hauling in the bodies now.”

  “What were their names, boy?” the captain growled at Homer.

  “Roy-Boy and Merganser, sir.”

  The captain huffed. “Those two! Don’t bother. Let the sharks have them. What else you got for me, Chief?”

  “Bags of doubtlessly illicit goods, sir.” Vintner held up the bag he was carrying. “I believe they are called burlocks in the arcane terminology of smugglers.”

  “Open one of them, man!” the captain demanded.

  Vintner reached in the bag, drew out a bag, and opened it, spreading its contents on the captain’s gray metal desk. The dim light inside the wheelhouse did not diminish the sparkling jewels that were displayed. The captain plucked up one of them and held it next to the porthole. “Emerald. Finest quality.” He carefully replaced the gem and picked up another one. “Opal. Perfect and full of fire.” A necklace caught his eye. “Topaz and silver, very nice workmanship. Colonial period, no doubt. How many packages?”

  “Thirteen, sir.”

  “Toss one of them back into the drink.”

  Vintner raised his eyebrows. “Which one, Captain?”

  “How the hell should I know? Choose one and do what I say! I’ll not have thirteen of anything on my cutter!” The captain turned to Homer and Albert. “Where did these packages come from?”

  Homer searched his memory. “The name of the boat that delivered them was the Theodosia, sir.”

  “The Theodosia! Those lowlifes. I’ve been chasing them for years.” He pondered Homer. “Hold up your hand!”

  “My hand, sir?”

  “This one, recruit,” the chief said, taking Homer’s right hand, twisting it palm out, and jerking it and his arm upward.

  “The crocodile, too, Chief,” Captain Wolf said. “Raise its right paw up to take the pledge.”

  “He’ll bite me if I do, Captain,” Chief Vintner said.

  “Then call Doogie.”

  Vintner opened the hatch and yelled for Doogie and, very soon, the boy with the tub hat ran in, breathing hard. “Yes, sir!”

  “Kneel by that crocodile, Doogie, and raise its right paw.”

  “But it will bite me, sir!”

  “I gave you an order.”

  Doogie knelt and, cringing, picked up Albert’s right paw. Albert looked at Doogie with interest and curiosity, and then smiled. Doogie smiled crookedly back.

  Captain Wolf squared his shoulders. “Repeat after me. I swear to be in the Coast Guard and do exactly what I’m told when I’m told to do it by just about everybody but mainly my captain and chief petty officer.” When Homer didn’t immediately respond, mainly because he was too shocked at the turn of events, the captain added, “Say it or I’ll have you flogged and flung back into the ocean. That includes the crocodile.”

  “He’s an alligator,” Homer grumbled, but did his best to say what he’d been told to say. He mangled most of it but thought he got through it okay, considering. When he was finished, or at least stopped, everyone turned to Albert, who responded with a grunt, which seemed to satisfy all concerned.

  “Welcome to the United States Coast Guard,” Chief Vintner said. “In case you wondered, our unofficial motto is ‘You have to go out but you don’t have to come back.’”

  Homer, whose wits were returning, considered the unofficial motto. “That’s sort of like coal mining,” he concluded.

  The captain put the gems back into the burlap bag. “You may leave the burlocks with me, Chief, except the one you are to toss overboard. And get these two out of my sight. The next time I see them, they will be proper sailors.”

  The chief replied with a hearty “Aye, aye, sir!” and chose a burlock before escorting Homer and Albert down from the flying bridge and put to work mopping the deck. At least, Homer was put to work. Albert instantly became a favorite of the crew and given a little white tub hat to wear (a drawstring kept it on his head) and treated with a mixture of deference, amusement, and awe. The chief, having disposed of the thirteenth burlock in his quarters (since, after all, it was no longer thirteen but just one), considered Albert. “You know,” he said to no one in particular, “I think that crocodile must be a very lucky creature whose luck will surely now be ours.”

  Sure enough, before too many hours passed, the Helene luckily came across the ship she had looked for so diligently over the months, the Theodosia.

  Chief Vintner barged into the captain’s office, catching Captain Wolf studying the illegal gems, several of them already in his pocket for safekeeping.

  “What the hell do you want?” the captain demanded.

  “Sir, enemy in sight!”

  “I presume you refer to the Theodosia.”

  “Aye, sir, the Theodosia she is and showing us her heels.”

  “Then get after her, Chief! We’ll teach her captain and crew to break the sovereign antismuggling laws of these United States! Blood will flow, Chief! Do you hear me? Blood will flow!”

  33

  ALL THROUGH THE NIGHT, THE DOROTHY WANDERED ACROSS the sea. If there was anything to see, it was not seen, but that did not deter Elsie, who peered into the gloom for any sign of life, any splash that might indicate a struggling husband or beloved alligator. The rooster, who had rushed across the plank at the last second, stood on the bow, looking fiercely into the darkness. Nothing was seen.

  When the sun peeped above the horizon, and the gulls rose from the sea to greet the newborn day, though she looked until her eyes were raw, Elsie could still see nothing except the everlasting sea. Until Marley called out, “There’s what looks like a body over there!”

  A lump rose in Elsie’s throat as Captain Bob steered his boat alongside. Marley, his face screwed up in fear—dead men afloat were surely bad ju-ju—turned it over to find its face chewed off by sharks.

  “It is not Homer,” Elsie declared after willing herself to look.

  “Well, I don’t need to see his face to know him,” Captain Bob said. “See that tattoo of a duck on the back of his hand? It’s Merganser Finney from up Myrtle Beach way. He comes from a long line of beach trash.”

  “Don’t go talking about the dead that way, Captain Bob!” Marley cried, making secret signs with his hands to ward off the spirit of the man still bobbing in the sea.

  “Set Merganser back adrift,” Captain Bob directed. “His kin won’t care and there won’t be nobody wantin’ to bury him. It’d be left to us and I’m in no mood to dig a grave nor find a preacher to stand over it.”

  “Don’t you dare push him away,” Elsie said. “He is still a man and deserves respect.”

  Captain Bob looked grim but nodded reluctant agreement. Marley, after gulping several times, caught the body with a boat hook and, with Elsie’s help, hauled it in to sprawl on the deck. An eel of some type crawled out of the cadaver’s ear and wriggled across the deck and through the scupper into the sea.

  “It don’t take long before the creatures of the ocean make anything their home and hearth,” Marley marveled, making more secret signs.

  Elsie went below, fetched a
tarp, and covered the body. The rooster came over and looked up at Elsie with an inquiring expression on its beaked face. “What is it, rooster?” she demanded and then noticed the boat was aimed toward shore and making headway. She turned to Captain Bob. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Why, taking Merganser to the beach, Elsie. That’s what you wanted when you had him brought aboard, is it not true?”

  “It is not true. Turn us around and keep looking. I have a hunch this man had something to do with what’s happened to Homer. Besides that, you’re responsible for my husband going overboard, him and Albert, and I won’t have you give up the search so easily.”

  When Captain Bob resolutely kept churning toward shore, Elsie marched up beside him and pulled back the throttle. The engine groaned, then died. “You are a crazy female,” Captain Bob said. He tried to start the engine but it only sputtered. “Now you’ve done it. We’re adrift with a dead body.”

  “It will begin to stink, Miss Elsie,” Marley explained, nodding toward the covered body. “Stink unto high heaven such that you will never take a breath without thinking of that stink.”

  “I am willing to chance that, Marley,” Elsie answered, resolutely. “Now, Captain Bob, stop playing games with me. You are deliberately pretending not to be able to start the engine just to scare me. Well, I’m not scared. Do I have to go after my pistol?”

  “Hark!” Marley called, a hand cupped to an ear. “Did you hear that?”

  Elsie and Captain Bob both cocked their ears toward the open sea. “Gunfire,” Captain Bob said.

  “And a volume of it, too,” Marley said. “Who declared war, I wonder?”

  “Has to be that crazy bastard Captain Wolf.”

  Elsie faced the gunfire. “They’re there,” she said. “I know they are. We have to go see!”

  “We’re not going anywhere,” Captain Bob said. “Captain Wolf is as crazy a gent who ever donned Coast Guard blue. He starts his boys shootin’, there’s no way we dare run up on him. Bullets will be flying everywhere.”

  Elsie squinted toward the noise of the battle, and then pulled Captain Bob aside. “You’ve admired me, Captain Bob, and made no secret of that. I presume if I’m a widow, you’ll take that as an advantage, but how are we to know if we don’t have a look?”

  Captain Bob narrowed his eyes. “Are you saying that there might be room for me in your heart if in fact your husband is gone?”

  “It is well known,” Elsie replied, “that a woman uncertain of her widowhood can go years spurning all other men for no other reason than she must be sure of her status. I call to your attention Penelope, who waited twenty years for Ulysses.”

  “Twenty years, madam?”

  “Such is the lot of the uncertain spouse.” Elsie batted her eyes.

  Captain Bob quivered with outrage. “I shan’t wait so long!”

  Elsie pointed toward the ever-increasing barrage of gunfire. “There might be the answer to your prayers . . . and mine.”

  Captain Bob cranked the engine, which started up immediately. He steered the Dorothy away from shore and toward the noise of battle, the rooster once more taking up a position on the bow.

  “Oh, Captain, my captain!” Marley wailed. “We’re in for it now!”

  34

  “THERE, LADS, IS THE QUARRY,” CAPTAIN WOLF SHOUTED to his assembled coastguardsmen. “And the glory I know you’ve always wanted!”

  His crew stared at him with uncertainty. Most of them were just boys who’d left their mother’s arms for the promise of being paid on a regular basis or had been jerked awake after being found asleep on the beach and pressed into the service of an armed force of the American federal government. Their training consisted entirely of service aboard the Helene. They knew nothing of glory or even much about the rifles and cartridge bags that Chief Vintner had given a few of them. Cutlasses, knives, and brass knuckles had also been handed out. They looked at their implements of war with more curiosity than eagerness.

  Captain Wolf was not unaware of the situation. “Now, boys, most of you have never been in combat but that don’t change the fact that you’re American fighting men. Once in battle, you’ll get the hang of it. Chief, make sure our lads know how to load and fire their rifles. The rest of you, swipe the blade or bash ’em in the teeth! Nothing to it!”

  Chief Vintner showed those who’d been issued a rifle how to load it. “Aim carefully, fellows, and pull your triggers only when you have the enemy in your sights.”

  Homer, observing all this, was wondering if he was expected to fight. All he had in his hands was a mop. He scanned the deck, noting several hatches that led below. Accordingly, he set his sights on the nearest of them but was caught up short by Chief Vintner. “Here now, recruit,” the chief said, taking Homer by the neck of his shirt. “Where do you think you’re going?” He broke off the working end of Homer’s mop and handed the handle back to him. “There, a staff good as Little John ever used to knock down Robin Hood. You’ll join the assault, boy, even though it will be against your friends in the trade.”

  “They’re not my friends,” Homer said. He looked at the mop handle and wondered what he was supposed to do with it.

  “What about the crocodile?” one of the men asked.

  Chief Vintner seized on the remark. “Aye, lads, our lucky charm, the croc of the sea! Give praise and thanks we have this fierce creature with us for no one can deny us victory with, um . . .” He leaned in close to Homer and asked, out of the corner of his mouth, “What’s his name?”

  Homer allowed himself a quick sigh. “Albert and he’s an alligator, not a crocodile.”

  “Albert!” Vintner cried. “Albert the crocodile will lead us to victory! Who shall carry him across?” He pointed at the boy. “You, Doogie, you and the former smuggler will carry Albert across to the Theodosia and thus we shall all follow and smite them, yea to victory!”

  “Huzzah for Albert!” a crewman yelled out. “Huzzah!” came back the answering cry from the rest of the coastguardsmen. “Three cheers for our crocodile! Rah! Rah! Rah!”

  “You men!” Captain Wolf shouted from aft the bridge. “Prepare yourself. We shall be on the enemy in a nonce!”

  Although none of the Coast Guard crew had the slightest idea what a nonce was, apparently the smugglers did as the Theodosia suddenly came about. From her bow came a puff of smoke followed by a sharp crack and a whistle and a thrum of the air as something heavy and very fast flew over the Helene. Chief Vintner raced forward as the rest of the crew dropped to the deck. “I see a smoke ring! They have a cannon on board, Captain! Get up, you swine! Get up, I say!” He turned to the bridge. “Faster, Captain Wolf, faster so we may close with these thugs and destroy their terrible machine!”

  Captain Wolf raised an eyebrow at the chief’s theatrics, then went back inside the wheelhouse to take the wheel himself. “Horatio Nelson said it best, my lad,” he advised the crewman just relieved of the wheel. “No fancy maneuvers. Just go straight at ’em!”

  “Horatio who, sir?” asked the crewman.

  “The greatest admiral in history even though he was a goddam Limey!” Captain Wolf yelled just as a cannonball smashed into the bridge, punching a hole fore and aft. Captain Wolf turned to look at the holes and then noticed the crewman lying on the deck. “You all right, lad? Your eyes are as wide as a hooked swordfish.”

  “I’m okay, sir,” the crewman said as he slowly picked himself up.

  “Then arm yourself! We’re about to collide with the smuggler!”

  “Collide, sir?” the crewman asked just as the collision occurred, knocking him back to the deck. The bridge tilted crazily and Captain Wolf, staggered for a moment, threw open a locker and pulled out a cutlass before stomping out on the flying bridge. “At ’em, men!” he yelled, waving the cutlass. “Show ’em the spirit of the United States Coast Guard!”

  What came next was complete confusion. Shots were fired and the coastguardsmen ran to and fro, uncertain what they were supposed
to do. “At ’em, lads!” Captain Wolf kept yelling from the bridge but his men hung back, not exactly certain what “At ’em!” entailed.

  Chief Vintner, seeing his hapless crew so confused, took Albert away from Doogie and tossed him across to the Theodosia. When Albert landed, he snapped his jaws at the smugglers, who took one look and ran. “Follow our crocodile!” Vintner screamed.

  The coastguardsmen still hesitated until Homer, worried for Albert, jumped across the space between the two boats. A smuggler tried to cut him down with a machete and he used the mop handle like a baseball bat, knocking the machete from the man’s hands and then whacking him hard on his head. The man dropped like a sack of beans. The other smugglers shrank back from the formidable pair suddenly in their midst.

  “Follow the recruit and the crocodile!” Chief Vintner demanded. This time, seeing the good example of both Homer and Albert, the coastguardsmen rose up and leapt onto the smuggler’s deck like a flying wave of humanity. The battle was quick and bloody although not particularly deadly because most of the smugglers instantly dropped their weapons and gave up the ship. This was fortunate, seeing as how the Theodosia was hopelessly holed by the Helene’s bow and was already settling in the water.

  Two of the smugglers, however, did not give up. They advanced on Homer, their machetes raised. One of the men was very big and one was very small. To his amazement, Homer recognized them both. “Slick? Huddie? Is it really you?”

  The two men stopped and peered at Homer and then Albert. “It is not us,” Slick said.

  “Stop lying, Slick. I recognize you. What are you doing on this boat?”

  Slick and Huddie looked at one another and then Slick answered, “We can’t make an honest living robbing banks or blowing up sock mills or betting on baseball games so we decided to go to the sea and seek our fortune.”

  “I thought you got money from Young Mrs. Feldman,” Homer said.

  “We did but it was took by the sheriff after he arrested us for stealing that hearse. We can’t catch a break.”