Coincidence - Alan May [38]
We shall see, Melissa thought. We shall see.
Shortly before the dance ended, Pierre and Melissa disappeared outside and climbed onto the classroom deck. As before, they lay on their backs, studying the sky and hoping to see shooting stars. For every one they saw, they rewarded each other with a kiss. If they did not see one for a while … well, a kiss was a good consolation prize, n’est pas?
In the morning the sky was gray and the wind had moved to the west. Captain Marzynski was forced to alter course so the ship could continue to sail. For the first time the ship was encountering large waves. It not only was pitching from front to back, it was rolling from side to side as well.
This is a deadly combination for anyone not accustomed to sailing in high winds and seas. Most of the Floaties were not. Many of them were going through what Dr. Williams liked to call the Ten Stages of Seasickness:
Stage One: Denial. The symptoms are burping, hiccupping, and nausea. The smell from the galley hits you but you say, “No, no, I’m not seasick. It’s just a drain smell.”
Stage Two: Acceptance: “Okay, maybe I am a little queasy. But in these seas it’s not going to be so bad.”
Stage Three: Contemplation of Positive Action: “Maybe I should just throw up and get it over with.”
This is followed by Stage Four: Bravado: “I don’t need to throw up. And I still want to be a Floatie.”
Then comes Stage Five: Involuntary Response: You’re at the rail and on your knees, calling, “Moooooooohm! Daaaaaaaadd!”
Stage Six: Apathy: “I don’t wanna to be a Floatie!”
Fear comes in Stage Seven: “Oh, God, please don’t let me die.”
And then, in Stage Eight, Despair: “Oh, God, please let me die.”
Stage Nine is marked by Healing: “That wasn’t so bad. I’m feeling better already.”
Finally, Stage Ten, Resurrection: “Of course I want to be a Floatie!”
The bad weather lasted almost twenty-four hours. Pretty well everyone who was sick went from Denial to Resurrection in the same time period. Eventually the weather improved and the sun came out. The storm system had passed and the wind moved to its normal westerly direction, which meant the ship could return to its proper course.
A few days later, the Inspiration was nearing the equator, a milestone for many onboard. Those who had not crossed the equator by ship before were referred to as pollywogs; those who had, as shellbacks. The night before the crossing, Anika gathered all of the pollywogs together.
The crossing, she announced, would take place about 1100 hours the next morning. This was not something to be undertaken lightly, she told them. It would be necessary for all pollywogs to ask King Neptune to grant permission for them to cross. This was a ritual that all sailors must undergo on their first crossing. In preparation for tomorrow’s initiation, they must have the head of King Neptune’s spear painted on their foreheads.
Just before the ship reached the equator the next morning, all pollywogs—Floaties and teachers alike—had to climb down into the bosun’s locker to await their initiation. Evan, one of Pierre’s cabinmates, volunteered to go first.
“Whatever it is, I’d rather just get it all over with than have to stay in suspense,” he said.
The others were called on deck alphabetically.
As Captain Marzynski intoned his name, Evan crawled out of the locker on his hands and knees. The captain crowned him with a toilet-seat cover; then, in a vivid demonstration of Mighty Neptune’s powers in controlling the waters of the oceans, one of the king’s assistants—the one that happened to speak with a Scottish