Just then the emcee announced the first question.
“The world’s largest office building? I think it’s the Kremlin. Isn’t it the Kremlin, Bob?” Heidi asked.
“I don’t know, maybe something in Asia. I think there is a new building in Singapore that might be it.”
“No, no, I know this one. It’s the Pentagon,” Claire said with authority of knowledge developed in all those years as a librarian.
“Are you sure, Claire?” Ruth was still doubtful.
“Trust me on this one. I know it’s the Pentagon.”
Heidi, who was recording their answers, looked to the others for conformation and seeing their nods, wrote it down.
“What is the name of the Palace housing the Hermitage in St. Petersburg? Is it called the Winter Palace, the Summer Palace, the Spring Palace or the Fall Palace?”
They looked at each other blankly. These questions were hard.
“I know that one. We’ve been there, haven’t we, Bob? It’s the Winter Palace.” Heidi started writing it down.
“Wait, are you sure, Heidi? It seems Summer Palace sounds right?” Ruth asked tentatively.
“No, it’s the Winter Palace. I tell you we’ve been there. We know its name.”
“Okay,” Ruth agreed, looking around to see what the other tables were doing.
“What are the four most popular flavors of syrup at the IHOP restaurants?”
“Now how are we going to know that?” Ruth was worried.
“Think, we can figure it out. Who goes to IHOP?” Claire looked around at the faces of their team.
“We do. Harold, you must know these,” Pearl told her husband.
“Maple for sure, they always bring it hot to the table. Butter pecan, I like that one. And what about blueberry?”
“Not blueberry, but maybe blackberry? What do you think?” Pearl looked at her husband.
Harold nodded.
“Come on, guys. We need one more.”
“It’s got to be strawberry. Everybody likes strawberry.”
Pearl nodded. “Yes, there is always strawberry syrup on the table. All right, maple, butter pecan, blackberry and strawberry, I think that’s it.”
Heidi was writing furiously.
The questions were coming faster now. One of the tables protested. They were falling behind, so the emcee paused for a moment.
Claire took this opportunity to tell Pearl about Mrs. Bernbaum’s invitation to view the Glacier from her private balcony.
“Ooh, that’ll be fun. I’d like to see one of those big cabins anyway, wouldn’t you, Harold?” Harold nodded. He was willing to do anything his wife wanted to do.
Then the questions started again and they argued amongst themselves as they tried to sort out the right answer. Finally they were done and now they all waited eagerly to see how smart they were. There was much cheering and jeering between the tables of contestants when the answers were given. The rivalry was more intense than the prizes warranted.
“Well, we did good, even if we didn’t win. Sixteen out of twenty is pretty impressive,” Pearl insisted, still feeling miffed because the correct answer was blueberry syrup, not blackberry, in the top four syrups at IHOP.
“Oh look, Pat and John were on the winning team. We’ll have to stop and congratulate them, Ruth.” Claire waved to the couple they had met at breakfast on one of the first days of the cruise.
“Don’t worry, every time we play we get better. Maybe the next time we’ll win.” Ruth was very competitive. “This is a good team. We’ve got someone who knows a little bit about everything. Let’s try it again, shall we?”
“Okay, next time it’s on the schedule, we meet here.” Heidi handed the paper and pencil to the crew member who was collecting them and headed out of the lounge with her husband.
Claire rose from her chair to head over to chat with Pat. “See you later at Mrs. Bernbaum’s, Pearl. Thanks for joining us; we needed you.”
After a few minutes with Pat and John, Ruth reminded her of her lesson. “Enough of these games of skill and knowledge, I’m going to introduce you to a game of pure luck. If you win it will be purely by chance.” She led Claire into the casino which, because they were at sea, was operating full force. She wandered around, peering at one machine then another before stopping in front of Slotto. “Here, this is the one.”
“But Ruth, this one takes quarters. Isn’t that a little rich?”
“Don’t be a wussy, Claire. It takes money to win money. And it’s not like it’s a dollar machine or a five dollar machine. Did you bring your money?”
Claire really wasn’t enthused about Ruth’s plan, but she dutifully pulled a twenty dollar bill out of her pocket. Ruth showed her how to slip the bill in the slot and then work the machine. “When these three symbols appear, you get Slotto. Then the balls with different numbers on them blow around in the chamber until one drops in the tube. The machine pays you as many coins as the number on the ball that dropped.”
So Claire played the slot machine with Ruth at her elbow with every pull. She had to admit the sound effects made it seem exciting. She got Slotto twice, one time she hit twenty-five coins, and one time she hit fifty. Meanwhile her twenty melted away and she added, on Ruth’s insistence, another twenty. When she was down to the last of that twenty she objected to adding another.
“Claire, sometimes you have to invest both time and money to hit the jackpot. What’s another twenty? This is a life lesson. You need to go for it.”
When Ruth was so determined, Claire had learned it was easier to let her have her way. So she inserted another twenty into the machine and on the second pull she hit the Slotto one more time.
“See, I told you.” Ruth was smug. “Come on baby, cough up the big one.” She talked to the machine as if it could hear her. Or maybe it could. Neither of them could believe their eyes when the ball with one thousand written on it dropped in the tube.
Ruth was as excited as if she had won. A crowd quickly gathered, wanting to see what Claire won. The casino attendant showed up and paid Claire two hundred and fifty dollars for a little more than a sixty dollar investment. But Claire was firm when Ruth advised her to play the rest of the money off. She had her lesson; she invested her money, now she intended to take her winnings and run.
“But Ruth, I’d be happy to buy you a drink for your help.”
“Okay, but let’s make it a coffee. A quick one, because I have an appointment in the spa in a half hour. I’m getting the works plus a full body massage.”
“Aren’t you going to Mrs. Bernbaum’s?”
“If I get done in time, otherwise I’ll see the glacier from the chair while my nails are drying. I feel like I need to pamper myself today and since tonight is another formal night it seems to be a perfect time to do it.
“What are you going to do now, Claire? Lunch?”
“No, I’m skipping lunch today. We had that big breakfast and I’m sure Mrs. Bernbaum will have goodies with tea. And if she doesn’t, it won’t hurt me to wait for dinner. It would be very embarrassing if I couldn’t get into my dress.”
“Hah, it would never happen. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you gain weight.” Ruth eyed her. “A lot of people would be glad to know your secret.”
“No secret. If I feel I’ve been eating too much, I just cut back or do without a meal or two. I know everyone has an exercise plan, but I get my workout heaving those books around.”
“Well whatever, I wish I had your figure, or Lucy’s. Now she doesn’t heave books around and look at her.”
“No, Lucy just looks wonderful. I don’t know how she manages.”
* * *
“I’ll get it.” Claire hurried to open the door for Harold and Pearl. “Hi. everyone’s on the balcony, but it’s really cold. Put on your jackets.”
It felt frosty on the balcony, the air sharp, and the smell of snow waffed on the breeze. Many of the outside cabins had tiny balconies, but Mrs. Bernbaum’s was quite large, stretching the width of her d
ouble wide cabin. It had several chairs and a small table and was enclosed at each end by solid panels allowing some privacy from the balconies on either side. The space was crowded with all Mrs. Bernbaum’s guests. They needed to be outside, not only to see clearly, but so they could hear the sounds of the ice breaking off. The ship was parallel to the edge of the glacier and while it was at least a quarter of a mile away it seemed very close, perhaps too close, for comfort. The calm, still, silvery water of the bay was filled with chunks of ice, some big and blue, some small and gray.
The mega movie, Titanic, was recent enough to make the passengers all too aware of the danger of floating icebergs. They appreciated the captain’s amazing skill in guiding the ship carefully and slowly through the water as he circled the bay in front of the Hubbard Glacier. And continuously, the glacier gave up more of itself, calving into the bay. Large chunks of ice with rumbles and sharp cracks, almost like thunder, shivered then slid, gathering momentum, before crashing into the water displacing big waves of water rushing away from the shore. Some waves were large enough to gently rock the ship. Other than the noise of the glacier calving there was complete silence. It was so eerie that the people on Mrs. Bernbaum’s balcony and the balconies on either side of her, found themselves whispering as if in church.
The glacier, itself, was breathtakingly beautiful. When the ship first moved into the bay and the glacier was sighted, it was magnificent, but that was nothing to compare to this closer view. It stretched miles on either side of the ship and it was many stories high, looming over them. And it was blue. Everyone said it was blue; pictures of it showed it blue, but somehow that still didn’t prepare one to see it. The color was everywhere, and the huge crevices revealed the blue went deep into the ice. It wasn’t just a reflection of the sky in the ice, it was blue ice.
Claire couldn’t get enough pictures, until she finally realized the grandeur couldn’t be captured in a small picture, so she stopped with what she had. She would have to burn the image in her brain and then the pictures could remind her of the beauty, the immensity and the silence.
Mrs. Bernbaum was the first to go back into her cabin, and slowly the others trailed behind her as the ship shifted and they gradually lost sight of the glacier. When the icy rain started to fall from the clouds, which had been moving in behind them, Claire finally gave up. She closed the sliding glass door behind her, blowing on her hands in an attempt to warm them. “Where is everyone?” she asked her mother and Mrs. Bernbaum.
“They all left. Harold and Pearl were going on top to the other side of the ship so they could see more. I don’t know where Lucy went, but she left with Sean and Ian.”
“Dickie said he was going to the gym,” Mrs. Bernbaum offered. “Here, dear, have some tea. It will warm you up.”
Claire accepted the cup and sat down, sipping the hot tea, then seeing some little sandwiches she helped herself. “I can’t stay long, I have to go to the computer room and do my e-mails.” Then she looked around. “Where’s Anita, Mrs. Bernbaum? Did you give her the afternoon off?”
Mrs. Bernbaum’s face sort of crumpled. “That girl, really, I just don’t know what to do.” She was clearly upset.
“What’s wrong? Did Anita say something again?”
“No, she didn’t say anything. I guess that’s part of the problem. She didn’t say anything; and she didn’t come back from shore yesterday.”
Claire’s mouth fell open and Millie gasped. “She didn’t come back on board? Did she decide to fly home after all?”
“I don’t know. Dickie says she must have.” Mrs. Bernbaum looked pinched and for a moment Claire thought she was going to cry.
“She took her hair brush and some of her things. Her toothbrush is gone, so she must have decided she was not coming back on board.” But before Claire could respond, Mrs. Bernbaum continued, “But I just can’t believe she did that.
“I know Anita. She has this strict sense of what is right. And I’m sure she would have thought I should pay for the return fare and she wouldn’t have been shy about asking me to do it. I just find it hard to believe she took off and spent her own money.”
“She just didn’t come back on board?” Claire was amazed. She didn’t really know the woman, but she hadn’t seemed to be that flighty.
Mrs. Bernbaum nodded. “The security officers came by last night after I returned from dinner. They knew she hadn’t come on board, because she hadn’t swiped her card. I guess they check all that before they sail.”
“What are they going to do? What are you going to do?” Millie was aghast. She couldn’t believe Mrs. Bernbaum’s caregiver could be so cavalier about her responsibility to the old lady after caring for her so long.
“Well, of course they sailed. They said if their agent heard from her they would help her connect with the ship at our next port. But Dickie says she went home. When we get to Sitka tomorrow he’s going to call and find out if she’s there.
“But I don’t know. If she’s as mad as she appears to be, she may not even answer her phone. I just don’t know what got into her.”
Millie shook her head, making sympathetic clicking noises with her tongue.
“Did they check at the airport to see if she made reservations? Or what about car rentals?”
“Claire, Juneau is landlocked, remember? She could only get out by plane or boat,” Millie reminded her daughter.
Mrs. Bernbaum shook her head. “They said she was an adult and she could leave if she wanted. It didn’t appear to be foul play since she took things with her indicating she was planning to leave. But they said if Dickie couldn’t reach her in San Francisco, they would ask their agent in Juneau to talk to the police.”
They all looked at each other. Claire gave a little shiver. It sounded ominous.
“Mrs. Bernbaum, Mom and I have a good friend in the San Francisco police department. If you give me Anita’s address and phone number I’ll e-mail him today and see if someone can check at her house.”
“Oh, would you Claire? I confess I’m worried. I’d feel so much better if I knew someone actually spoke to her. Let me get it for you.” She pulled herself up from her chair and moved to the desk where she pulled out a leather bound address book. It took only a minute for her to copy the information on a piece of ship’s stationery for Claire.
“Now, I don’t think we’ll get an answer today,” Claire cautioned. “So your nephew might talk to her first. If so, let me know, so I can e-mail Sean and tell him not to bother. Otherwise, as soon as I hear from him I’ll let you know.”
“Mrs. Bernbaum, are you okay with Anita gone. I mean how are you getting by? Do you need us to help you in some way?” Millie was concerned about the old lady.
“No, no dear, I’m fine. Jorges, my cabin steward, is available if I need something, and Dickie is going to come by to take me in to dinner and he’ll check to make sure I get my medicines. I’m sure I’ll manage, but thank you so much for asking.” She got up to accompany them to the door. “Now don’t worry about me. I’m going to take a long nap and I’ll see you at dinner. Formal tonight, right?”
As the ladies moved down the corridor, Millie asked with a worried frown, “Claire, do you think you should ask Sean Dixon for this favor? I mean he’s a pretty important person now. I don’t know if we should impose on him.”
“He says he owes me, so here’s a chance for him to pay me back. Don’t worry. It’ll be okay, Mom. He’ll probably send one of his officers out to check. And it will relieve Mrs. Bernbaum’s mind. You know she’s a pretty peppy old lady and despite my initial impression, she’s very interesting. I really like her.”
“Yes, she’s led an eventful life, hasn’t she? But maybe a lot of people have if we just took the time to listen to their stories. After all when a person lives almost a hundred years they’ve seen lots of history happen. It’s much more interesting hearing it from someone who’s lived through it than it is reading it in history books.
“You know, she asked me
to call her Florence. She said that one of the worst things about outliving your colleagues and family is no one talks to you as an equal. No one calls you by your first name and no one can share your memories and stories. That’s sad, isn’t it? It really made me think. And she’s right. Look at our table. We call everyone by their first name, but her. Everyone calls her Mrs. Bernbaum except her nephew, and he calls her Auntie.” Millie shook her head, her sympathy for Mrs. Bernbaum clear on her face.
“Oh, I think I’m going to take these stairs down to my cabin and drop off my jacket. I’ll see you later at the horse races, all right?” Millie waved to her daughter and disappeared down the stairs.
Claire took the elevator down several decks to her own cabin and got rid of her jacket, then headed up to the computer room.
She hadn’t checked her e-mails yesterday and so paid for that omission by the number which had accumulated. Some notices and spam she quickly deleted leaving only the messages she needed to respond to. Mrs. B, her assistant at the shop, had some questions and needed decisions. She had two messages from the Travel Book Store Association she belonged to and a notice of an upcoming event she wanted to participate in. There were messages from the Bayside Chamber of Commerce and the Bayside Merchants’ Association. She read and answered the three messages from friends before she was free to send her message to Captain Sean Dixon at the SF Police Department.
Sean was a buddy of her father’s. He had stayed in touch with them all these years, feeling an obligation to see his friend’s family was all right. Meanwhile he had advanced through the police force ranks to the level of Captain. But to her he was still Uncle Sean.
Several years ago she had agreed to stop in to care for Ruth’s cat and woke up to find herself lying in a deserted warehouse. She had managed to get out of the building before it exploded into flames. While the investigating officers had seemed suspicious of her being in that part of town, even hinting she might have been there to make a drug buy, Sean Dixon had told them in no uncertain words what he thought of their theory. And when the police couldn’t find answers to why she was there or to the subsequent attempt on her life, he was embarrassed and grateful when she found the answer herself. He was as proud of her help in nabbing the drug lord, who as it turned out, was meeting in the house next door to Ruth’s, as he would have been if she were his own daughter. She didn’t think this little favor was too much to ask him. He would consider checking on Anita to be a small price to pay for hearing from her. And Mrs. Bernbaum would rest easier knowing Anita had arrived home safely.
Claire Gulliver #04 - Cruisin' for a Bruisin' Page 13
