A Wedding in December_ A Novel - Anita Shreve [68]
Innes moved to one of the four arched windows. “There seems to have been a collision in the harbor,” he announced.
“Good lord,” Dr. Fraser said when he had reached Innes.
The smoke was black and thick, with licks of fire appearing and disappearing. Two massive ships were linked in the harbor waters.
“The smoke is oily,” Dr. Fraser said. “Phyllis, where are my binoculars?”
“In the library.”
“I’ll get them,” Hazel said. Innes turned in time to see her stand and make her way to the swinging door. She was graceful in her movements—the slide, turn, and rise from the dining room chair—even when on a simple errand. And that, possibly, was the difference between Hazel and her sister. There was no child in Hazel.
Louise and Mrs. Fraser joined the men at the window. In the harbor, objects shot into the sky at angles from one of the ships. “Oooh, it looks like fireworks,” Louise said.
Below, on the streets, passersby began to gather in groups to watch the blaze. “Haven’t seen anything like this since the war began,” Dr. Fraser said. “I’m assuming this isn’t some kind of sabotage.”
“Germans in Halifax?” Louise asked, her voice rising.
“No, I’m sure not,” Innes heard Mrs. Fraser say with slight annoyance.
Innes, his eyesight keen, could see lifeboats being lowered from the burning ship. The smoke was indeed thick and oily. Barrels appeared to ignite from time to time.
Hazel returned with the binoculars and walked directly to the window, where she handed them to her father.
“They’re abandoning the ship with some haste,” Dr. Fraser said after he had had a moment to adjust the eyepieces.
“The ship is drifting closer to the Halifax shore,” Innes said. He thought the calamity, for all its potential horror—were men caught in the fire?—quite beautiful with its tongues of flames and irregular fireworks.
“I see the words ‘Belgian Relief’ on the other ship,” Dr. Fraser said.
Below, on the street, two nursing sisters had stopped to watch the spectacle. A boy, who must already have been late for school, had climbed atop a letter box to get a better view. Hazel was standing so close to Innes that the sleeve of her dress brushed his jacket. Was this by design? For a moment, Innes could think of little else but Hazel’s proximity.
“Best to return to our breakfasts,” Dr. Fraser said, setting the binoculars on the windowsill. Innes, reluctant to take his seat with Hazel standing so near to him, picked up the binoculars and examined the ship for himself. Hazel stepped away from Innes, as was only proper.
“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen such black smoke,” Innes said to Dr. Fraser.
“They’ll get it under control,” the doctor said.
But Innes wasn’t as confident. He followed with the binoculars a lifeboat in the water. He could see the men paddling frantically toward the Dartmouth shore.
Innes remembered the papers he had to look at before he and Dr. Fraser left for the hospital. He set the binoculars on the sill. “I have some things in my room I must collect,” Innes said to Dr. Fraser. “I’ll be in the hallway at nine-fifteen?”
“Yes, of course. Earlier if you want to get a good look at the fire.”
“I think you probably have as good a view from here as anywhere,” Innes said, taking a last sip of coffee and looking at Hazel, who had returned to her seat. She turned, and there it was again: that secretive glance, covert and inviting. Or did Innes simply wish it so? The thrumming, which only Hazel seemed capable of setting in motion, had started up again in Innes’s chest.
Innes took the steps two at a time, swung around the newel post at the top of the staircase, and headed for his room. He found the papers Dr. Fraser had given him spread upon the floor near the bed. He’d tried to read them last night before falling asleep, but he couldn’t remember a single word. He glanced at the title. Purulent Ophthalmia in Infants.
He noticed that the plume of oily smoke had risen higher into the Halifax sky and was drifting with the slight wind. Papers in hand, Innes walked to the window. The glass was smeared in the east light, suggesting it