Читать книгу The Captain's Log - Hans Psy.D. Mateboer - Страница 6

“You are also invited, and don’t you find any excuses!” The captain pointed at me with his finger, the moment I entered the navigation bridge. His voice betrayed a high degree of agitation, and I saw that he had spilled some of his coffee, as he was in the process of wiping up a puddle from the windowsill. The chief officer was standing next to him, very red in the face. It seemed to me that either he had received a severe dressing down, or that he was barely able to keep from laughing out loud.

Until that day, the captain had barely spoken two words to me, and I felt honored that he was including me in his invitation, although, I did not have a clue as to what it was all about. He turned around to face the chief officer again.

“Don’t you laugh!” He snapped at the chief officer hotly.

“I didn’t even realize that she was on board. Should have expected her anytime though. She hasn’t taken a cruise in over a month. Still, I wouldn’t mind if she had stayed home.”

He seemed very annoyed and he spilled some coffee again without even noticing it.

“That woman drives me nuts. Always parties, always wanting all the attention, and always it’s me she’s after.”

“Noblesse oblige, Sir.” The chief officer volunteered. The captain stared at him for a few seconds and snorted.

“Spare me your quotes. You probably got them from your calendar anyway.” He turned around again towards me.

“Be ready in your formal uniform, at seven sharp, right here. The purser, the hotel manager, the chief engineer and me are all invited to a private party, and you are coming as well.”

“What kind of party, Sir?” I asked. “Do I have to bring something?”

“No, you just come along.”

After the captain had left, I looked at the chief officer and the navigator on duty, who as soon as the door had closed burst out laughing. The chief officer even laughed so hard that he had to steady himself on the radar. I had been looking forward to attending parties, a part of cruise ship life I yet had to sample. This, however, must be different, and something clearly was wrong here—too much laughter, and why was the captain so upset?

“What’s going on here?”

The only answer I got was more laughter, and the chief officer started to gasp for air.

“Oh man, haven’t laughed like this for a long time. What did you say?”

I repeated my question, very curious now about this party that seemed to unsettle everybody by just mentioning it.

“It’s a birthday party of one of our passengers, and she invited almost all the officers. All except me, because she doesn’t approve of me.” Again the Chief Officer started to laugh.

“Nobody can refuse to go, because she owns a zillion shares in the company, and can be as mean as poison, and she always gives these parties.”

I started to become a little annoyed. Everybody kept mentioning parties, but so far the funny part about it kept eluding me. I have never been a man thriving on going from one social affair to the other, but on the other hand, a good gathering every now and then I do enjoy. What was so funny?

“So what’s wrong with her celebrating her birthday, it seems perfectly normal to me.”

An explosion of fun erupted again. The navigator reached for a big red handkerchief from his pocket and started wiping the tears from his eyes. The chief officer lifted his hand, indicating that he was more or less ready to tell me more about the joke.

“Marge Winkler is one of our faithful passengers. She makes about twenty cruises a year, and always at this time she celebrates a birthday. We all have known her for years, and every year she looses it a little more. Not to say, she is stark raving mad! She wants all officers to come to that birthday party, and nobody can refuse, because she will find you.”

It all was becoming a little childish I thought. To me it seemed rather normal that a group of officers was required to attend a private party. I was just about to inform the chief officer of my thoughts, when he resumed his story.

“The funny part is that it isn’t her birthday at all, it’s her teddy bear’s. His name is Buster.”

Now I started to smile, visualizing the whole scene already. Joining the laughter, I actually started to look forward to seven o’clock.

Ten minutes before time I was on the bridge, for the first time in my life dressed in a formal uniform with a collar so stiff I thought it would choke me. One by one the other officers came in, all dressed similarly, and none of them looking too happy. With a certain amount of apprehension I followed them through the corridors, the captain in front, to one of the most expensive cabins on board the ship. Being the first in line, the captain loudly knocked on the door and waited. After about two minutes, slowly the door was opened and an elderly lady looked at us with uncomprehending eyes.

“Hello Ma, we are here for the party. It’s Buster’s birthday, remember?”

“Oh yes, of course. Come in, but be careful, he is still asleep.”

We all moved in, followed by a few stewards pushing carts with drinks and appetizers. Never having been in these staterooms, I looked around curiously. The cabin was huge, beautifully decorated, and about ten times the size of my own, which I already thought to be very spacious. In a corner stood a queen size bed in which a body laid, covered with blankets and propped up with pillows. Sticking out above the covers, I saw the head of a big Teddy Bear. This must be Buster! Startled by an unexpected sound I turned around and saw Ma Winkler. She was sobbing and tightly holding onto the arm of the captain with one hand. Our commander looked decidedly embarrassed, and I moved a little closer to hear what was being said.

“Oh, it’s all my fault. I insisted since it was his birthday. He so strongly disapproves of me drinking Bloody Marys for lunch and dinner. He never drinks them you know, only Virgin Marys. Now he’s sick, because I put a shot in his drink. He threw up, you know. I have to give up these drinks, if only for him. By the way, would you like one?” she asked, turning around to me.

Never having liked the drink, I started to refuse, but when I looked around me, I saw every single person in the room holding a glass of the red stuff. The stewards had brought nothing else but it. Without waiting for my answer, she put a glass in my hand and pulled me over into a corner. In the background I saw big grins of relief appearing on the faces of the captain and the other officers. Thank God, somebody else was being singled out.

“What’s your name young man?”

Without even listening to the answer, she nudged even closer and started to whisper in my ear, every few seconds looking furtively behind her as if afraid somebody else would want to listen in on this privileged conversation.

“You seem to be very intelligent to me, and I have to tell you something.”

By now she held my head with both her hands, one at the nape of my neck, and the other under my lower jawbone, making me feel rather uncomfortable. I tried to move away, but Ma was surprisingly strong. The others by now were enjoying the party very much and looked at Ma en me with unconcealed delight.

“Buster is not a real man at all.” She whispered. “He is just a teddy bear! They all think he is real, you know, and I can’t bear breaking the truth to them, they are all so nice. Oh! … Look, he is waking up. He wants to get out of bed!”

Abruptly letting me go, she moved over to the bed, uncovered the bear and carried him to a chair. Buster was an early specie, his fur was all but gone and at various parts of his ancient body I saw pieces of straw stuffing sticking out.

“Well, are you not going to wish him a happy birthday?”

Ma expectantly looked at the officers huddled together in a corner of the cabin and pointed at the captain.

“You are the first one.”

With a “devil may care” look on his face, he moved over and took

Buster’s right paw in his hand and shook it vigorously.

“Congratulations, Buster.”

The other officers including me followed, and Buster took all the good wishes quietly and in good nature.

“Yes you too.”

Ma Winkler looked at the purser who so far had escaped all the attention, and who during the course of the party had focused more on the cart with Bloody Mary’s than on Buster, and who as a result was none too steady on his feet. Smiling, he abided her wish and shook Buster’s paw like we all had done. This time however the result was a little different from the previous times. Maybe it was the strong handshake of the purser, but it also could have been the result of hundreds of strong handshakes during parties like this before. Without any of us really noticing what happened, we were all startled by an anguished cry from Ma Winkler and an exclamation of surprise from the purser.

Buster’s right paw had come off at the shoulder joint, and he sadly sagged to one side of the chair.

“A doctor! Quick, do something!”

Ma Winkler hysterically pounded the captain on his chest, who not expecting such a sudden attack staggered into a corner like a boxer losing the match. It was unnerving to see the sudden change in the old lady, still banging away at the captain, her tidy hair becoming undone.

“Do something.” The captain snapped at the ship’s doctor who until now happily had followed the scene, escaping all attention. The man’s mouth dropped wide open.

“Who, me?”

“Yes you, you’re the doctor aren’t you?”

“Please help my little Buster.” Ma Winkler wailed. “He’s in pain, can’t you see that!”

It was obvious that the physician did not have enough fantasy to cope with the situation, not even after the purser had unceremoniously dropped the severed paw in his hands. By now we all started worrying if Ma wasn’t the one needing a doctor. She looked deadly pale and allowed the captain to lead her to the bed where she shakily sat down. At this moment the captain firmly took control of the situation showing the leadership only a true captain could display.

“Call the upholsterer, on the double.”

It took only a few minutes before the upholsterer arrived. He looked a little frightened at the assembled officers. None of them thought about leaving as soon as possible anymore. This party turned out to be very interesting. The little Filipino, not understanding the emotional damage he was inflicting, after he was explained what to do, stuffed the severed paw in his tote bag and carried Buster away, holding him by his leg. Ma gave a piercing scream when she saw how her little darling was being handled, but the upholsterer was gone.

It took us a while to calm her down, and shakily she had two more Bloody Marys while we, in turn, assured her that Buster would be fine. Not before long, Buster reappeared, with his front paw where it belonged. Ma Winkler pressed the upholsterer to her heaving chest and showered him with sloppy kisses.

The party lasted another ten minutes before the captain expressed his thanks to Ma and told her he was leaving, having to attend other duties. As we had come earlier that evening, we left, the captain in front, followed by his officers.

“You know what?” I heard him saying to the chief engineer. “The only normal one in that cabin this evening, was that teddy bear.”

Ma Winkler died many years ago, but every now and then, hers and Buster’s name still come up in our conversations. She was one of those passengers one does not easily forget, sometimes a pain, often a joy, and always unforgettable.