"Burial at sea 1961" - читать интересную книгу автора (Thompson Hunter S)

She avoided his eyes. "After all," she said. "You did drop the sail."

"Well Christ," he said. "Christ alive, he can at least be decent about it."

That night, after going off watch, he lay in his bunk for almost an hour, listening intently for sounds from the deck. He could hear them talking, but couldn't make out what they said. The conversation was broken by long silences and finally he could stand it no longer.

With his heart thumping, he climbed the ladder and stepped onto the deck. Anne was sitting in the cockpit, holding the tiller, and Maier was kneeling behind her with his hands on her shoulders. She was smiling and her blond hair glowed in th emoonlight. Laurenson thought he saw the skipper's hands moving slowly at the base of her neck.

Maier looked up. "What the hell are you doing up here Laurenson? You're gonna wish you'd been asleep when I get you up at midnight."

Laurenson wanted to smash his arrogant mouth. "I have to go to the bathroom," he said.

"What the hell do you think the head is for?" Maier snapped, not taking his hands off Anne's shoulders.

Laurenson headed for the stern, looking straight ahead. "It's easier back here," he mumbled.

He had to pass Maier to get back to the hatch, and as he did, the skipper looked up. "You satisfied?" he said, smiling faintly.

"Yeah," Laurenson muttered, turning to go down the hatch. Halfway to go he paused to look at Anne. She was smiling again, and now he was sure Maier's hands were moving on her shoulders.

The next day Maier was after him constantly:

j"Laurenson, scrub down the galley. The place stinks like a pig-hole!"

"Laurenson, straighten the sail-bags in the lazerette. I want them in order in case we hit a squall."

"Laurenson, get down there and pump the bilge. We have enough dead weight aboard, without adding a hundred gallons of sea-water."

In the afternoon, according to Maier's prediction, they entered the Sargasso Sea. It was like a huge, dirty lake in the middle of the ocean. Great chunks of sargasso weed drifted slowly past the boat. The sails flapped and fluttered in the dying wind, and even the light ballooner jib was almost useless. The Sebastian had no engine and Maier seemed resigned to drift in the doldrums for as long as God willed. "Not a damn thing I can do about it," he said with a shrug. "Just try to keep moving and pray for wind."

Laurenson had the midnight watch on their second day in the doldrums. He and Eble sat across from each other in the cockpit. After an hour of nervous silence, with the boom clattering back and forth across their heads, Laurenson got up and went below.

Before he was halfway down the ladder he sensed that Anne was not in her bunk. It was pitch-dark in the cabin and he groped in the cold sheets that lay tangled at the foot of the bed, clinging to some faint hope that he wold find her.

Then he looked to the galley, striking a match to make sure no one was there. She wasn't on deck, so she had to be in one of two places - the head, or Maier's cabin.

He felt his way back to the stern, breathing rapidly. Both doors were closed and he heard nothing. He touched the door to the head, wanting to jerk it open.

But he couldn't. Nothing could make him knock or call her name. Maier's door was behind him, but he couldn't look at it. He just stood there, stroking the door to the head.

After several minutes he climbed back to the deck. His hands trembled and his eyes seemed unable to focus. Eble had one foot on the tiller, watching the North Star. He seemed startled as Laurenson stumbling into the cockpit and slumped down on the cushions. "What's wrong?" he said.

Laurenson put his head in his hands. "I'm sick," he mumbled. "I've got to get off this boat. I'm getting sick."

Eble watched him for a moment, then looked down at the compass. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I think I know what you mean."

Laurenson said nothing for several minutes, then suddenly got to his feet and picked up a steel winch handle half the size of a baseball bat. If she was down there with him, she was a whore - he'd beat them both to within an inch of their lives. He moved purposely towards the hatch.

Eble called after him: "Where are you going?"