The Rochester Confessions

by James Brown

As she stood observing Tim and Stanly through the window, a plan started to take shape in her mind.

  She had the keys to Stanley’s apartment, which was on the harbor on George Street. She started the car and began driving towards the harbor.

  Stanly was very happy. She left for her house late that night from Tim’s place. Tim had been a revelation. She had big plans of a long and happily married life with him. But of late, his behavior had been erratic and he suffered from mood swings. It was probably the work load, she concluded. As she opened the front door of her apartment with her keys, Stacy hit her with a crowbar at the side of her neck. Stanly fell down flat on the floor and stared, only to see the crowbar coming down hard at her again.

  She gained consciousness as she hit the water. Her hands were tied behind her and she was gagged by a cloth. A tight strap ran around her mouth. Her feet were also tied together. Stacy had backed the car up to the end of the jetty and had rolled Stanley’s body into the freezing sea. The retreating tide pulled her away from the shores. Stacy started the engine and disappeared into the night. The darkness engulfed the slender form of the struggling body and sucked it deep into its bosom.

  This was just one part of the story, thought Quinn. What happened to Stacy that fateful night on board the ferry? He had no clue at all. He had tried questioning the crew and the captain. He also questioned a few passengers. No one knew anything. Whatever happened that night, no one else was involved in it– it was either an accident or a suicide. Something was nagging him at the back of his mind. Was he missing something? He sat down once again with his notebook and pencil and started scribbling.

  Father Paul was reading the Bible when the wind started to blow. It had a very high velocity and created a hurricane-like movement of dust in the central courtyard of the church. It was like a dust devil, moving from side to side, as though a giant creature was moving ahead crouching and swaying gigantically. It finally came to a rest right in front of Father Paul, who was engrossed in the holy book.

  Suddenly the pages of the book started flapping in the wind. They folded to one side and stopped at a particular page. It was as though the book was trying to give a message to Father Paul. Right on the top of the page was the message:

  Do not fear, for I am with you; do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, surely I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

  Father Paul closed his eyes and concentrated on the words. He could feel the pressure of the wind on his entire body, the pricking of sand particles on his face, and the howling of the wind in his ears. But he kept calm and still, allowing the moment to pass.

  The dark forces were angry. They had to vent their fury on something, and they had chosen an object. An object that would affect hundreds of lives, most of them good, god-fearing people. But God had other plans.

  The chief navigation officer on duty at the Tempest was trying to figure out the jumbled lines of data he had received from the ship routing agency, on whose recommendation he was supposed to take a decision on whether to follow the track originally planned or change course based on real-time guidance.

  For any voyage, the initial route recommendation is based on a survey of the weather and sea forecast between the point of departure and the destination. It takes into account the type of vessel, hull type, speed capability, safety considerations, cargo, and loading conditions. The vessel’s progress is continually monitored, and if adverse weather and sea conditions are forecast along the vessel’s track, a recommendation for a diversion or a weather advisory is transmitted.

  By this process of initial route selection and continued monitoring of the progress, it is possible to maximize both speed and safety. While providing the optimum sailing conditions, the advisory service also attempts to reduce the transit time by avoiding adverse conditions, which may be encountered on a route. Or, if the forecasts permit, it diverts the vessel to a shorter track to take advantage of favorable weather and sea conditions. A significant advantage of weather routing accrues when the waters are navigationally restricted, so that there is a limited, at times single, choice of alternative routes. The use of the advisory service in no way relieves the commanding officer of his responsibility for prudent seamanship and safe navigation. There is no attempt by the routing agency to inhibit the exercise of professional judgment of technical and navigation officers.

  Natural rocky shoals form a natural protection at the Toronto harbor. These rocks are marked on all nautical calendars, and vessels sailing across the lake take due precautions to keep clear of them and go through the navigation channels marked on the navigational maps. The Tempest was negotiating these rocks when the signal came in, adding to the misery of the navigation officer.

  The tides had been acting crazy and the routine statistical data had no relevance. The officer had to depend on real-time feedback, the way the waters were pushing the boat, and the pulse of the water. As he tried to think of a way out, the sonar started to indicate an approaching obstacle. As the object came nearer, the frequency of the beep began to increase. The officer quickly asked his mate to make a slight correction to the starboard side. He was relieved to hear the beep fade. As he deliberated his next move, he saw a gigantic circular formation right ahead in the path of the ship. As he tried to dodge the same, it eclipsed for a moment and then reappeared, as though it was growing out of the sea. The captain looked at him. He was equally confused.

  “Kill the engines, kill the engines, reverse throttle, move astern, obstacle in path, estimated size 20 to 25 meters,” the officer shouted at the helmsman. The engines were cut and the throttle reversed. But the momentum of the big boat kept pushing it forward.

  The captain watched helplessly as blips appeared at the center of the vessel’s monitor.

  The auto collision alarm started to blare. The announcements started. This is not a drill, this is an emergency. Move away from confined space. All passengers are ordered to come to the deck. Please remain calm and follow the instructions of the crew.

  The officer had swerved the big boat to the starboard and the results were now beginning to show. The blips started to shift to one side of the screen. As they approached the center, they were also shifting to one side, till only two lines of them were visible. The auto collision detector blared “3 meters to collision”. After a gap, it said “2 meters to collision”. And then after a long gap “1 meter to collision”.

  As everyone held on to whatever was available, the blips on the screen disappeared.

  The captain, the crew and the passengers waited with bated breath. Suddenly, the starboard drift of the ship stopped. A giant wave smashed onto the ship and pushed it to the silently waiting rocks. It was as though the sea had picked up the boat and thrown it back onto the rocks.

  The first bump was rather gentle, followed by a loud heavy crunch as the wood gave way under extreme pressure.

  The jolt on the ship was forceful. The engines were quickly killed, as the captain reckoned that the breach would only broaden if they tried any maneuver without assessing the damage. An inspection party took out a small lifeboat and went around the ferry. One sailor in full diving gear dived below and came up after 10 minutes after assessing the damage. The bow of the ship was badly stuck on a rock protrusion. The breach was about 2-3 meters wide, and the ferry was taking in water quickly.

  An SOS had been alerted already. The Toronto Bay Coastguard and rescue boats were soon swarming the ferry. All passengers were evacuated to safety. The crippled ferry was disengaged with the help of a winch crane and was towed to the harbor for further repairs.

  Chapter 13

  Quinn was one of the first few people to hear the news of the accident on the ferry.

  He had been busy the whole day writing the Katos story. To give a twist to the story and fire the readers’ imagination, he also wanted to include the extraordinary life of Ms Stacy and her sister.

  But this news was bigger. Besides, Quinn wanted
to do a little more research, as he wanted to give the full story without any loose ends. So, he kept the Katos story for later and went to the harbor where the ferry was now docked.

  By the time he reached the harbor, all the crew members had left for Rochester. Only the insurance surveyor was there and he briefed Quinn about the damage. The company engineer was also present. “Seems like the babe is cursed. Tough for the council as this will be a full-scale enquiry case. It will take minimum two to three weeks for repairs.”

  Whether he liked it or not, he would have to go back to Rochester. Quinn wanted to be the first on the trail. He wanted to publish the story at the earliest when it was all fresh in the minds of the people. If he delayed it further, the news would become stale and lose its impact in the readers’ minds. This would also mean losing readership.

  Quinn reached Rochester the very next day. The first person he went to meet was the Mayor. Nick was visibly upset on seeing him. Ever since his last meeting with Quinn, Nick had not been able to sleep well. He had somehow managed to gather strength and put aside thoughts of getting exposed for his past deeds. Nick concluded that whatever had been done couldn‘t be reversed. But he would not allow any man to blackmail him into submission of any kind.

  Quinn approached him as if he were an old buddy. He started speaking, with a nasty expression on his face.

  “Seems like the people here have deep dirt up their sleeves. And it surfaces every now and then at the slightest probing. I am sure all the people involved in the boat deal have made tons of money, all collected from the townsfolk. The money must have gone down their big bellies. But it‘s not so easy to fool the people nowadays. And who else would know it better than you, Mr. Nick, the Mayor of this sick town?” said Quinn, expecting Nick to cower before him.

  Nick shouted back furiously. “We small country folks still have some manners and civility left in us. And we give two hoots for the ranting of the city loudmouths. Also, we have a system in place here in our town. We still live the old way. We have lived by the gun and will die by the gun. We are not afraid like you city folk.”

  Quinn was taken aback by the onslaught. Then he understood. Here was a man whose crime had been exposed in front of the judge and was awaiting the pronouncement of his punishment. He was beyond emotions such as hope, pardon or sorrow. He had already given up. It was only a matter of time before the arrest orders would come, and he, Quinn, would ensure that they would come quickly. Quinn simply glared at Nick. He left the place quietly.

  Nick sat down at his desk. He felt a strange calmness, as though he had won some sort of a battle. His thoughts were clear. Over the past few days, he had been thinking of telling everything to Father Paul. It was almost as if someone was forcing him to do so. He knew Father Paul was a stickler for rules, and Nick was not sure how he would react to his story. He was scared to open up to anyone. He could not trust anyone, given his status in society. But this inner voice urged him to trust the Father and tell him everything. Nick would have to look up to the Father for guidance.

  But he also knew that the one mistake he had committed earlier in life could take away everything from him, his entire life and his achievements. Though several years had passed since the fateful incident, the sins of the past could not be washed away that easily. The law of the land and the church would still declare him a criminal and a sinner. He had to keep the secret buried deep in his chest, very deep.

  Rob was mumbling in his sleep. “Get up boy, get up, please get up. Open your eyes, open your eyes.” Suddenly, he woke up in cold sweat. He had to do something about these nightmares. As he sat thinking, the white metal cross hanging on the wall fell down with a loud thud. He got up with a start. He picked it up and put it gently on a chair. He understood the sign. He had to confess. God wanted him to confess to his crime. He had to do it, whatever may happen. For the sake of his child and wife, he had to do it.

  The next morning, he reached the church early and went straight to Father Paul for the confession.

  It was good that the confession chamber had a partition so that the sinner couldn’t see the priest. As Rob was making the confession, Father Paul’s face turned pale. He was stunned, his expression changed from one of disbelief to that of utter horror. His head started to spin and his legs gave way. He had to hold on to the wall to keep standing and listen.

  The implication of everything was becoming clearer to him. He was a holy man, a man close to God himself, someone whom God loved and protected and gave the power to understand different circumstances and read their impact and their reasons of occurrence. He knew Rob’s confession had been forced on the young man by God himself not only to protect him and his family but also for Father Paul to show him the way. The Almighty wanted to show him a way but he could still not understand it fully. Perhaps it would dawn on him soon, thought Father Paul. He had to wait and watch.

  Father Paul was still thinking about Rob’s confession when he got the call from Nick requesting an urgent meeting. “It’s okay dear. We can meet anytime after 6in the evening. As you know, that’s when I am free from the church duty,” said Father Paul.

  “How about 7 then? Someone gave me a nice wine bottle a couple of weeks ago. I’ll carry it along,” said Nick, temptingly. He knew too well how much Father Paul adored a good bottle of wine.

  “Okay then, see you soon. Take care,” said Father Paul, rather absent-mindedly, and disconnected the call.

  Nick shut shop at 5.30 p.m. as usual. The sun was already down and the evening had set in. It was a cloudy day. The wind had picked up speed and was stinging the flesh. He rushed to his car, which was parked as usual at the adjoining parking lot. It was then Nick sensed that someone was following him. It appeared as though whoever was following him was crouching behind him. As he increased his pace, so did his follower. Eventually he started to run. But being badly out of shape, due to all the extra-large drinks and the extra pizza toppings and beef, he was unable to run for long. Soon he stopped and stood on the roadside gasping for breath. Suddenly, the shadow appeared in front of him. He was a tall, lanky and powerful man, with a big head gear, and a flowing robe. It was Achooka.

  It was perhaps the evening mist, the dust on the road or just his breathing. Nick was breathless and couldn’t speak. Achooka started to speak in a slow, deep and commanding voice. “I had warned you. The ship is cursed, don’t let it come back to the town. It will bring more suffering, more blood and death. Please come with me, I will show you. I will tell you some things and you will then understand. You will have to come with me to the woods.”

  The wind suddenly picked speed and turned into a full-scale blizzard Nick started running towards his car. Achooka was not far behind. As he crossed the road, a cherry colored Mustang suddenly appeared from nowhere. Nick had checked for traffic on both sides of the single lane. He could have sworn there was no car there a moment ago. Then he saw the driver. He froze in his tracks. It was none other than Katos.

  The car came right upon him. Nick closed his eyes waiting to feel the impact, only to find Achooka push him away from the road, as a big truck zoomed by.

  “Careful mister, careful. You almost got yourself killed there. What’s the matter?”Achooka shouted at Nick.

  “I saw death coming towards me. What happened? Where is the red Mustang and the driver? He looked familiar, almost too familiar,” Nick said, bewildered.

  Achooka could understand. He could see and feel the elements. It was thanks to the Almighty’s will that Nick was safe. Nick was the next target. Achooka had foreseen this. He would do anything to protect Nick. It was his duty and it was His will.

  Finally, as he got into his car, Nick thanked Achooka for saving his life.

  “Don’t thank me yet. You can thank me by listening to me. Please understand. The times are not good, the Devil has come to town. The ship must never come back. It is God’s will. If the ship comes back, it will cause more deaths and misery. Many good people like you will suffer. Come to me when
you are feeling better. I will tell you everything, you will perhaps understand then. I am on your side. I am with the God Almighty.” Saying so, Achooka shook Nick’s hand and disappeared into the wilderness, half crouching and half walking.

  Father Paul was waiting for Nick for almost an hour now. It was very uncharacteristic of Nick. He was usually dot on time. As he was about to give up, he heard a soft knock on his door. He got up and opened the door. Nick looked a bit pale but he was well-dressed and properly groomed, as was expected of the city Mayor.

  Father Paul could easily guess that all was not well. Nick’s smile was not wide and the corners of his mouth were a little drooped. His forehead had a few creased lines.

  “Good afternoon, Father. Sorry to keep you waiting,” Nick said, shaking the Father’s hand. Father Paul could feel the tremble of the hand as he shook it. He didn’t leave his hand. Instead he escorted Nick right inside the room where Nick collapsed into a well-cushioned chair, as if his legs had given away.

  “What happened? You are never late. Hope all is well,” said Father Paul.

  “Just escaped by a hair’s breadth. At the parking lot, this truck just appeared from thin air. I could swear it had not been there a second before. Seems like age is really catching up,” Nick replied in a huff.

  “May I have a drink, Father, if you don’t mind?”

  “Sure, sure,” said Father Paul. He walked to the drinks counter and poured a stiff Jack Daniel in a glass and gave it to Nick, who gulped it down in one shot.

  “Really needed that, thanks a lot Father,” said Nick.

  After another round of drink, some color returned to the fear-stricken face of the Mayor. After the third drink, he was more his usual self.

  They began discussing the sudden change in weather and the blizzard that had hit the town that day. Suddenly Nick interrupted the Father saying, “I have not been sleeping well the last few days and wanted to speak to you on an important matter. The matter I want to discuss with you has been buried in my chest for more than 30 years but because of some extraordinary reasons, I have to reveal it to you now. You may wonder why I want to share it with you, of all the people. I feel you are the only one who would understand me, and, as I said, the time has come for it.”