Summary: \u00a0When Adam invited Joe to come to Europe for a holiday, he never imagined the consequences.<\/p>\n
Rating: T
\nWord Count: 9,898<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cAll the world\u2019s a stage, \n Prologue<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cMmmm.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTake it easy, Joe.<\/p>\n \u201cAdam?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m here.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhere am I?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe infirmary. You\u2019ve got a bad concussion.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cS\u2019plains it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cExplains what?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSharp guy.\u201d<\/p>\n Sharp guy?<\/em>\u00a0 I must have looked perplexed for while I was trying to decipher Joe-speak, Dr. Hantz interceded.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s not unusual. Many concussed patients are disoriented when they waken, especially after receiving as severe a blow as he did.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cA cast iron frying pan upside the head will do that a fella.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy would this man be in the galley? I thought he was a paying passenger.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know and he is.\u00a0 Oh, wait \u2026 I know.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy he was in the galley?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo. I don\u2019t have a clue about that, but I do know what he meant by \u2018sharp guy.\u2019 We visited Notre Dame before sailing. He was referring to the bell that rings a perfect F sharp.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe bell named Emmanuel.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cExactly.\u201d I said. Now it was the doctor\u2019s turn to look confused. \u201cHe feels like Emmanuel is pounding inside his head.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAgain, to be expected. But if the patient is cognizant enough to make that connection, he\u2019ll likely recover with no side effects. However, I\u2019d like him to remain in the infirmary overnight\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201c\u2014All right\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201c\u2014and then be confined to his cabin until we dock in New York.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s three days from now!\u201d<\/p>\n Dr. Hantz arched an eyebrow. \u201cWill that be a problem?\u201d<\/p>\n Only for me. <\/em>\u201cNo, of course not.\u201d<\/p>\n The doctor\u2019s stern gaze telegraphed his skepticism. \u201cTwenty-foot seas; 60 knot winds. Do I have to explain what another blow to the head would means should he fall?\u201d<\/p>\n Properly chastised, I shook my head.<\/p>\n \u201cBring him back to the infirmary immediately if he experiences dizziness, neck pain, attention or memory issues. Is that clear?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, doctor. Thank you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll leave instructions and some powders with the orderly. You can sign him out tomorrow morning. Good night.\u201d<\/p>\n I had no intention of leaving my brother alone. Rough seas aside, I still didn\u2019t know who had clobbered him or why. Was the attack related to the Masque?<\/em> I would have to have a word with Monsieur P\u00e9reire in the morning but meanwhile I would take advantage of the orderly\u2019s presence and get answers some way, somehow.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Day 1 – At Sea \u2013 Setting Sail<\/p>\n We left La Havre, France at 4 p.m. sailing westward, chasing a red-gold setting sun which sank slowly into a cobalt sea. In the afterglow, winds filled our sails, but the seas remained relatively calm, resulting in little impedance to our journey. Among the 2045 souls on board were 115 first-class Saloon Cabin passengers, my brother Joe among them. He’d traveled to France at my request, a present ostensibly for a belated 25th birthday but also as my way of thanking him for stepping up after I left the Ponderosa to travel in pursuit of my own dream and not that of our father.<\/p>\n As intended, I have seen the capitals of the world: Rome, London, Paris, Istanbul, Salzburg, Vienna, St. Petersburg, Venice, Madrid, Constantinople\u2014all ports my father had visited\u2014and I also sailed beyond to exotic places like Madagascar, Tahiti, Australia, New Zealand and the Sandwich Islands. On occasion, I’d meet up with sailors who, upon hearing my surname, asked if I was acquainted with a Ben Cartwright. When they learned I was his first-born son they couldn\u2019t wait to tell me incredible tales. Tall or not, it was a treat to hear the stories. As brother Hoss has said on occasion, it is rare that Pa opens up about his life before marriage.<\/p>\n Prior to leaving the ranch, the furthest I’d ever traveled on my own had been to Boston to attend college. I lived there with Grandfather Stoddard, my mother’s father. He’d been Pa\u2019s captain on the Wanderer <\/em>and eagerly recounted his sea days to me, but shared little about Pa, except to say that he was a good first mate \u2026 not husband, I noted.<\/p>\n Grandfather was disappointed that my father had not continued to follow in his footsteps and I believe the result was the distance that grew between them. Or maybe it was because Pa took me away from him by moving west. All I know is that Grandfather never visited the ranch and seldom wrote to Pa, although as I grew older he and I kept in touch through letters and an occasional daguerreotype. Frankly, his offer for me to live with him while attending school came as a surprise.<\/p>\n More than room and board, the old man introduced me to the right people in Boston. People who aided my quest to excel in my engineering studies and who furthered my career as an architect. I disappointed Grandfather when I eventually moved back to Nevada and resumed a ranching life. I don’t believe he ever forgave me for that choice any more than he forgave my father. When he died and left me his house, I in turn disappointed my father by leaving the Ponderosa and moving to Boston. The only thing that redeemed me in Pa’s eyes was when I went to sea. That he could understand.<\/p>\n Eight bells.\u00a0 Time for dinner. How odd it is to be eating in the dining saloon rather than in the officers\u2019 mess.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Day 1 \u2013 At Sea \u2013 Dinner<\/p>\n Our ticket on The French Line’s S\/S Amerique<\/em> included First-Class Dining. When I entered a string quartet was playing Hayden\u2019s Op 76 No 3. Excellent!<\/em><\/p>\n I was shown to a round table for 12 covered in Irish linen and set with Waterford crystal and Gotham silver. Its location in a rear alcove afforded a good view of the entire room. I chose a seat against the wall\u2014a habit acquired growing up on the frontier where it was necessary to protect one\u2019s backside when in unfamiliar territory. From there I could observe without being obvious about it.<\/p>\n The first-class passengers were of the usual sort that made an ocean crossing: wealthy businessmen, socialites, a few ne’er-do-wells and no doubt a con man or two hoping to find a mark. Down in steerage the emigrants fleeing Europe for a better life in America fixed their own meals.<\/p>\n An impeccably attired young man introduced himself as Albert our table\u2019s waiter and handed me a menu of this evening\u2019s dinner choices with a suggested wine pairing for each course. I apologized for arriving early and ordered an ap\u00e9ritif which was promptly served with a small plate of hors d’oeuvres.<\/p>\n While nibbling, I reviewed the events of the past month. Upon Joe\u2019s arrival, I looked for any telltale signs of seasickness but he appeared to have suffered no ill effects from the two-week journey over on a packet ship other than the smell.<\/p>\n \u201cHave you taken up smoking?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cNo, why do you ask?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cYou reek of tobacco.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cThat was the cargo coming over. The whole ship smells like this. I\u2019ve gotten used to it, I guess.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cWell, I haven\u2019t. The first thing we do is get your clothes washed\u2026and you too for that matter!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cHey, I can go home the same way I came if that\u2019s what you want!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n <\/p>\n Aside from that minor spat the reunion with my youngest brother has thus far been a joyful one, free from discord and disharmony and I was touched by the presents he brought like the leather-bound journal from Hoss and a new guitar from Pa. Joe’s gift was several sheets of music popular in the States, songs like Champagne Charlie<\/u>, O Little Town of Bethlehem<\/u>, and In the Sweet By and By<\/u>.<\/p>\n I offered Joe the opportunity to visit other countries during his visit, but he was content to soak up the ambiance of his mother’s homeland and he had me repeat oft-told tales I heard from her lips about her childhood in Marseilles and Paris before her relocation to New Orleans where she met Pa.<\/p>\n We took in the sights like Notre Dame, the Catacombs, Arc de Triomphe, Sacr\u00e9-C\u0153ur and of course the Louvre, where he caught me off-guard with his comments on some of the paintings. There were art books at home and Pa saw to it that all of his sons were exposed to the masters. Still I was surprised by Joe’s depth of knowledge on some artists’ techniques. Whether he’d been studying on his own or because he was truly interested in such things remains a mystery.<\/p>\n What I realized early on was that the Joe I am traveling with today is not the man I remember. He is prematurely gray in his mid twenties much as our father had been. When I mentioned my hair was still black but thinning, Joe laughed and said, \u201cNot as much as Hoss\u2019s is!\u201d<\/p>\n I am pushing forty, set in my ways, with no marriage prospects. Joe frowned when he learned that, leading me to believe that his secret reason for accepting my invitation was to gather details for Pa. I bristled at the thought. My love life, or lack thereof is none of my family’s business. Of course I have women friends and lovers, but no one who makes my heart sing as Ruth did. I confess I often grow melancholy at the mere thought of her. I suppose that mood is akin to what I\u2019ve seen pass over Pa’s face when he thinks of my mother.<\/p>\n I snapped out of my reverie when I realized the conversation level in the room had risen and that, although Albert was now seating others at the table, my brother was not among them.<\/p>\n While Albert distributed menus, I slipped back into yesteryear. Although possessed of a ravenous appetite for such a scrawny kid, food has rarely been an incentive for Joe. Make no mistake, he can and does often out eat Hoss if the mood strikes but it\u2019s on his terms not someone else\u2019s . . . even\u00a0Hop Sing.\u00a0 Breakfast, dinner and supper on the Ponderosa were served with the type of military precision that wreaked havoc with Joe’s internal clock. It surprised me that our cook let my youngest brother get away with a more relaxed eating pattern than either I or Hoss had been allowed, but Joe had a way of currying favor with Hop Sing that defied the Chinaman’s rules without incurring his wrath.<\/p>\n I admit that Joe’s ability to twist the little man round his finger irked me. I thought him spoiled and didn’t hesitate to let our father know it.<\/p>\n Nevertheless, Joe’s non-appearance concerned me. Was he seasick? He hadn’t mentioned that condition afflicted him on the voyage over. Perhaps he lost track of the time or didn\u2019t know that eight bells meant dinner. More likely he got caught up in conversation. He always has been a bit of a jabberwocky–to borrow a word from Lewis J. Carroll. He can talk a blue streak and, God knows, he can talk Hoss into anything.<\/p>\n I was brought back to the present by a flurry of activity at the entrance to the dining room as a stunning girl in her early twenties entered on Joe’s arm. Mother-of-pearl combs held cascading wheat-colored ringlets off her face and her ivory skin was fairly luminescent against the sapphire blue of her silk gown. The dress was formfitting with a high bustle in the fashion of the day and did little to hide her rather buxom figure. Thankfully, matching lace surrounded her d\u00e9colletage. That didn’t stop Joe, however, from admiring the view when he held out a chair at our table for the young lady. When he leaned over her shoulder to place the napkin in her lap, he stared at her bosom, licked his lips, and then winked at me.<\/p>\n I sighed. It was going to be an interesting voyage.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Albert soon asked for our dinner selections. True to the cattleman that he is, Joe ordered the Steak au Poivre with Potatoes Savoyarde. I decided on the Lemon Cod Fish Francaise with Dauphinoise Potatoes, as did several other guests. The rest chose Coq au Vin with roasted potatoes. On Albert\u2019s recommendation, we all ordered Cr\u00e8me Br\u00fbl\u00e9e for dessert.<\/p>\n A distinguished gentleman about my age or a little older was seated to my right. He suggested we introduce ourselves. \u201cI am Edwin Wilson, Esq., partner at Cadwalader, Wickersham & Taft in New York City, returning home after attending a legal conference in Paris. I cross the Atlantic frequently and would be happy to answer questions if needed.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAdam Cartwright, architect currently residing in London. I am traveling to Nevada to visit family.\u201d I turned to the gentleman to my left.<\/p>\n \u201cAh, Henri Chevalier. Excusez-moi, mon anglais n\u2019est pas bon. Je suis relieur. J\u2019habite a Lyon. Je vais en Am\u00e9rique rendre visite \u00e0 ma fille \u00e0 Saint-Louis\u201d<\/p>\n I volunteered to translate. \u201cPermettez-moi de traduire, Monsieur Chevalier?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBien s\u00fbr, avec mes remerciements.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMr. Chevalier is a bookbinder from Lyon, France and will be visiting his daughter in St.\u00a0Louis, Missouri. If no one has any objection, I will continue to translate for Monsieur Chevalier\u2019s benefit.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLady Margaret Egerton. My late husband was the Second Earl of Ellesmere. I am traveling the world, much to the chagrin of my children who think me in my dotage\u2014but pish tosh what do they know?\u201d The dowager\u2019s up-swept hair was mostly white with just a hint of red and the twinkle in her blue eyes bespoke a wild streak in her youth.\u00a0 No doubt a force to be reckoned with.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201dAnouk de Vries. I-I\u2019m 19 and, um, this was my first trip to the Continent. I am, um, from M-Michigan, um Holland, Michigan and I\u2019m, um, returning home after visiting my grootvader–grandfather–in Leiden. He is a p-professor at the University. I, um, I don\u2019t know why I\u2019m at this table with all of you, um, p-professional and, um, rich people.\u201d Miss DeVries tucked a lock of mousy brown hair behind an ear and said, I\u2019m s-sorry, I\u2019m so nervous.\u201d<\/p>\n Befitting her title and class, Lady Margaret immediately set about making the shy young girl feel comfortable. She patted Miss DeVries\u2019s arm and said, \u201cYou are doing fine, my dear. No need to be frightened.\u201d She looked around the table and said for everyone\u2019s benefit. \u201cThe Leiden Botanical Garden introduced the tulip to Europe in 1590. I have a wonderful garden at Ellesmere, my dear, and would be honored if you would look at my botanical sketches.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cY-Yes, um–.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201c–Lady Margaret.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, ma\u2019am.\u201d<\/p>\n Taking a cue from the dowager I added, \u201cI had the pleasure of visiting Leiden last year, Miss DeVries. I would be interested in hearing what you thought of the architecture there as compared to what you find in America.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYessir, ah, Mr. Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe rolled his eyes, but l ignored him.<\/p>\n A rather stern looking woman of perhaps middle age was next. Her black hair was pulled back into a tight chignon, and her expensive but dowdy clothing emphasized rather than softened the severity of her appearance. \u201cMrs. Gregory Worthington from Bristol, England. My husband is not well and will be spending the voyage in our cabin. He insists, however, that I partake in the activities on the ship so I am here unescorted much to my dismay.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFiddlesticks,\u201d Lady Margaret said, \u201cthe three of us\u2014you and I and Miss DeVries\u2014can chum around and get into all sorts of mischief.\u201d<\/p>\n I was beginning to like this woman.<\/em><\/p>\n Miss DeVries giggled but Mrs. Worthington was appalled. She jutted her chin into the air. \u201cI do not \u2018chum\u2019 nor do I require your intercession,\u201d she said in clipped tones.<\/p>\n An older gentleman to the left of Mrs. Worthington introduced himself as Matteo Rossi, an Italian entrepreneur and investment broker with lucrative business dealings on the Continent and in America. I noticed he perked up the instant Mrs. Worthington said her husband was confined to their cabin. Possibly a rake and a roue. He will bear watching.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cJane Simmons, telegrapher.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cExcuse me,\u201d said Lady Margaret. \u201cCan you explain \u2018telegrapher\u2019?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOf course. I operate a telegraph key for Western Union sending and receiving messages by Morse Code.\u201d<\/p>\n Intrigued, I opened my mouth to ask Miss Simmons a question but was usurped.<\/p>\n \u201cHow fascinating! You must tell me more another time.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI would be happy to Lady Margaret. Thank you for your interest.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ve worked a telegraph key before\u2026 not for pay but as a relief operator. Knowing Morse Code comes in handy though when you need to signal someone.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd you are?\u201d asked Miss Simmons.<\/p>\n \u201cPleased to meet you Miss. I’m Joseph DeMarigny, horse breeder from Stockton, California. I\u2019ve been in France looking at the Percheron and Boulonnais breeds for possible import to improve my line of draft horses.\u201d<\/p>\n I nearly choked when Joe used his mother\u2019s maiden name. I stared at him but his face was blank so I quickly translated for Monsieur Chevalier and then nodded to the young lady next to Joe to proceed.<\/p>\n \u201cAneline Havermeyer of the Charleston Havermeyers.\u201d<\/p>\n Her honey-coated words were more of a question than a statement. Whether she was seeking recognition or affirmation was unclear and she drawled on.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ve been attending finishing school in Switzerland but my Daddy took sick so I booked passage on this rather poor excuse for a ship because it was first available and I couldn\u2019t bear to be absent from my daddy\u2019s side in his time of need.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAller \u00e0 l’\u00e9cole en Suisse. Rentrer chez papa,\u201d I said quickly. Lady Margaret hid a smile behind her hand. I had a feeling she spoke French.<\/p>\n In a high-pitched voice, the next guest introduced himself as \u201cDominik Szabo. I am delighted to meet everyone and look forward to getting to know you,\u201d he said, waving his elongated fingers while looking straight at Joe, who appeared not to notice the overture. I admit I may have misread the signals, but Szabo\u2019s foppish clothing and mannerisms reminded me of why I taught Joe to defend himself at a much younger age than Pa had wanted him to learn of such things. Whether Pa was truly oblivious or chose to turn a deaf ear, Hoss and I heard the \u2018pretty boy\u2019 comments and catcalls, and we took matters into our own hands \u2026 a decision that served Joe well on several occasions.<\/p>\n Fortunately, dinner arrived at that moment and we directed our attention and energy to the food before us.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Day 1 \u2013 At Sea \u2013 The Game<\/p>\n With our dessert, we each received a sealed envelope that said Do Not Open Until Directed<\/strong>. By whom, it was not clear, although that query was soon answered when a gentleman in a tuxedo approached and introduced himself.<\/p>\n “I am Stephan, your Ma\u00eetre d’. You are seated at this table at the request of Issac P\u00e9reire, one of the owners of Compagnie G\u00e9n\u00e9rale Transatlantique or The French Line as it is known abroad. Monsieur P\u00e9reire is your host for this voyage\u2019s Masque.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat is that?\u201d inquired Mr. Wilson.<\/p>\n \u201cA form of dramatic entertainment popular among the aristocracy during the 16th and 17th centuries but in this case without costumes, scenery, etc. The subject of our Masque on this voyage is Shakespeare.\u201d<\/p>\n I heard Joe grumble under his breath, \u201coh, brother!\u201d I would have kicked him if I could.<\/p>\n “How delightful!” exclaimed Lady Margaret. “These crossings are dreadfully boring,\u201d she said. \u201cA game is just the thing to enliven the time until we reach New York.”<\/p>\n Stephan cleared his throat to regain our attention thus squelching the wave of murmurs that began to ripple around the table. \u201cThere is no need to be concerned about learning lines or dressing in costume. Let me further assure you that it is not necessary for you to be familiar with the Bard or his plays. A role will be assigned to you. You may invent your own dialogue as long as it is in keeping with your character\u2019s motivations which will also be provided. We will begin the game at dinner tomorrow evening and continue each night for the remainder of our voyage.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat about during the day? I must finish a speech before we dock in New York,\u201d said Mr. Wilson. He looked from guest to guest. \u201cI\u2019m speaking to the bar association.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWith the exception of dinner you may engage in any of the shipboard activities you wish and interact with passengers as yourself. There are no restrictions.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIf we\u2019re not f-familiar with the play, how will we know w-what to say?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThank you for asking, Miss DeVries. Inside the envelope is a roster of the characters in the Masque with the role you have been assigned circled. A separate card lists your character\u2019s description and motivations. Monsieur Chevalier \u2026 your cards are in French, est-ce que tu comprends?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOui, merci.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow do you win this game and what do we get if we do?\u201d asked Matteo Rossi.<\/p>\n \u201cOn the last night of the voyage, you will write down your best guess as to the role each player assumed and you will receive one point for each correct choice. The guest with the most points will be reimbursed their fare and win a round trip voucher for a future voyage to any port in the world on the French Line. In case of a tie, both players will receive the prize.”<\/p>\n There were whispers and murmurs as we looked around at our competition and quietly assessed our chances of winning.<\/p>\n “Should you choose not to participate in the game after reading the cards, please stand and you will be immediately reassigned to another table. I have already been informed that Mr. Worthington will not be participating in the Masque. Are there any more questions? No? You may now open your envelope.”<\/p>\n I removed a pen knife from my pocket, the one that had a pine tree brand carved into the handle. As I fingered it, a flood of memories washed through me. Pa had given it to me the year I became bull of the woods in charge of the ranch’s timber operations. I had negotiated the contract for the new courthouse in Carson City with Abe Curry, hired the crew, and oversaw the cutting and milling of the lumber. Curry had found favor with our operation and threw additional work our way.<\/p>\n I gave the same knife to Joe when he successfully bid for the Sun Mountain contract. He beat out Will Poovey by figuring out how a flume could be used to deliver the stand of fir above Buckhorn Meadow specified by the project. We were all proud of Joe for his ingenuity and determination in fulfilling the contract on time and under budget despite the difficulties encountered because of some poor hiring choices he made in the beginning.<\/p>\n The man he chose as foreman turned out to be not only lazy but criminally bent. Joe’s faith in their friendship blinded him to the man’s faults. It wasn’t the first time he’d been burned, nor would it be the last, but it was a watershed moment for Joe and his belief in his ability to stand on his own. Although having to turn to his family for assistance was a blow to his independence, he finally grasped that there is no shame in asking for help when it is needed. In so doing, he was able to salvage the contract and fulfill the bid. That alone proved to me that he had earned the gift. He disagreed and I found the pen knife on my desk at the conclusion of the project. No amount of persuasion could convince Joe he deserved it. He wouldn’t take it back and it has remained in my possession ever since.<\/p>\n I opened the blade with my thumbnail and slid it through the sealed flap. The first card listed 12 possible roles: 6 male and 6 female. I saw the role that had been circled as mine and took a sip of water to stifle a smile. I knew the play and character well but read the second card anyway. The analysis was spot on.<\/p>\n I glanced at Joe but his face was expressionless \u2026 in and of itself that was a curiosity given how transparent his feelings usually are. He did not stand although both Mrs. Worthington and Henri Chevalier did. Stephan escorted them post haste to another table as promised while Albert removed their place settings as well as the one for Mr. Worthington.<\/p>\n And now there were nine.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Day 2 \u2013 At Sea \u2013 The Game\u2019s Afoot<\/p>\n When I awoke the next morning I discovered Joe in my cabin. He was sitting quietly in the lone chair with one leg over the arm holding a mug of coffee in one hand.<\/p>\n “You\u2019re burning daylight,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201c\u2019bout time you woke up. I’m usually the one who sleeps in.”<\/p>\n “How long have you been up?”<\/p>\n “Since before dawn. Three bells? Is that right?”<\/p>\n “Yes.” He was beginning to pick up the jargon. “Why?”<\/p>\n “Why am I up this early?” He grinned. “The better to catch you in the act.”<\/p>\n “Of?”<\/p>\n “Putting on your game face. Who are you?”<\/p>\n “Who are you?” I countered.<\/p>\n “You can’t guess?”<\/p>\n I thought over the list of characters we’d been given: King Lear, Othello, Petruchio, Romeo, Tybalt, Prospero, Cordelia, Rosalind, Miranda, Desdemona, Ophelia and Lady Macbeth.<\/p>\n “Romeo is too obvious,” I said, but Joe showed teeth as his smile widened. “What? You mean you are?”<\/p>\n “Are what?<\/p>\n “Romeo?”<\/p>\n “No, Adam. I am not. You’ll have to do better.”<\/p>\n “Better?”<\/p>\n “You never could figure me out.”<\/p>\n “That’s not true. I had your number the moment you were born.”<\/p>\n He laughed. “You think so? Oh, brother, how much you’ve forgotten.” Joe swung his foot back to the floor and stood, placing his coffee mug on the built-in chest of drawers. “See you at breakfast. I hear they’re making French toast. Think it will be as good as Hop Sing’s?”<\/p>\n “And just where did you hear that?”<\/p>\n “From that saucy redheaded kitchen wench with the dimples.”<\/p>\n “I suppose you think she’s sweet on you.”<\/p>\n “Don’t have to think . . . I know.”<\/p>\n “I thought you were interested in Miss Havermeyer.”<\/p>\n “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt me.”<\/p>\n “You’re incorrigible.”<\/p>\n Joe laughed again and cracked the door looking left and right before slipping out into the passageway.<\/p>\n I put my hands behind my head and stared at the ceiling. Romeo loved only Juliet. Joe had his eye on more than one woman; therefore, Joe couldn’t be Romeo. One character down, eight to go. No, that wasn’t right. Joe could not be my character either, so that made it two down and seven to go.<\/p>\n I rose on one elbow ready to get out of bed but hesitated because that still wasn\u2019t right. Stephan had said that we were only to be in character during the evening meal so Joe’s activities with crew members or any other behavior outside of dinner didn\u2019t matter. To further complicate things, there were now more female parts than there women in the Masque.<\/p>\n I lay down again placing both fists on my head. P<\/em>roblem? <\/em>No, because in Shakespeare\u2019s day males played female parts and since we were only dealing with dialogue and not physical action, I didn\u2019t invision one. In fact it might be amusing to see someone like stuffed shirt Edwin the lawyer play Miranda. I laughed aloud in spite of myself.<\/p>\n Joe was right \u2026 I was burning daylight. I got out of bed and dressed quickly.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Day 2 \u2013 At Sea \u2013 Dinner<\/p>\n After we communicated our dinner selections to Albert, Edwin clinked his glass with a spoon. \u201cShall we begin the game?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd how should we do that pray tell?\u201d asked Dominik sweeping his wavy long locks over his shoulder.<\/p>\n \u201cBy talking,\u201d Joe said, rather aggressively I thought. \u201cUnless you think we should use sign language or would that overtax your delicate fingers?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThere is no call to be snippy, dear fellow.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe stood abruptly knocking over his chair. \u201cYou wanna fight? Queensberry Rules or would you prefer to duel? I’m sure an officer would lend me his sword.\u201d<\/p>\n Matteo rubbed his hands together. \u201cNothing like a little blood sport to awaken our prurient interests.\u201d<\/p>\n Miss Havermeyer fanned herself while drawling, \u201cMy, it is a bit warm in here. I shall require a stroll on deck in the moonlight before our food arrives.\u201d She stood and placed her hand on Joe\u2019s arm. \u201cMr. DeMarigny, would you care to accompany me?\u201d<\/p>\n Joe turned and kissed her hand. \u201cIt would be my pleasure, milady, but the moonlight shall pale in comparison to your beauty.\u201d<\/p>\n I cleared my throat loudly. \u201cAnd that, ladies and gentlemen, is how the game is played.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou mean, Mr. C-Cartwright that this unpleasantness was all an act?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, Miss DeVries. An admirable effort by our players to distill the essence of their assigned characters. Thank you Mr. Wilson for inaugurating the evening\u2019s Masque.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMy pleasure, Mr. Cartwright.\u201d<\/p>\n Lady Margaret clapped. \u201cOh, well done everyone. I say that was more entertaining than the usual game I play to relieve the tedium on long voyages.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd what game would that be, Lady Margaret,\u201d Joe said as he picked up his chair and took a seat. Miss Havermeyer, realizing she alone stood, frowned and sat quickly.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy people watching, of course. There is nothing to be done on long days at sea but to observe your fellow passengers, and to speculate about them. For example, is that young lady at the table by the door a bride, or is the gentleman with her her brother?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, I get it,\u201d said Miss Simmons. \u201cAre that elderly gentlemen and sweet young thing by his side husband and wife or father and daughter?\u201d<\/p>\n Dominik patted the pads of his fingers together in glee. \u201cIs that pompous individual who just entered the dining saloon with such an air, some mighty general or a clerk of great personal pretentions?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThis is fun,\u201d said Miss DeVries. \u201cBut how do you know who is married and who is not?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLooking for a suitor?\u201d Matteo said wickedly.<\/p>\n Lady Margaret ignored him. \u201cIt is simple, my dear. If a gentleman is very attentive to a lady, then they are going to be married. If the lady is very attentive to the gentleman, then they have just been married. If they do not seem to care anything about each other at all, then they have been married for some time!”<\/p>\n Everyone laughed, including me, and I added, \u201cIt does bear some consideration that while we are looking at others, others are also looking at us.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSpeculation leads to rumor and innuendo.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd the potential for slander,\u201d I added. \u201cDo you practice tort law, Mr. Wilson?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNot personally, but my firm does handle defamatory suits. Have you need of an attorney, sir?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNot presently.\u201d<\/p>\n Our food arrived in the nick of time.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Day 2 \u2013 At Sea \u2013 After Dinner<\/p>\n I found Jane Simmons on deck gazing at the horizon.<\/p>\n \u201cPenny for your thoughts, Miss Simmons?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, Mr. Cartwright. Hasn\u2019t it been a fine day?\u201d she said brightly. \u201cThe sun, the moon, the ocean air. It\u2019s breathtaking, don\u2019t you agree?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI do. Is this your first time at sea?\u201d<\/p>\n She looked at me with a curious expression. \u201cMr. Cartwright, if I\u2019d never sailed before, how could I be sailing home now?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMy apologies, dear lady. During introductions at dinner last night the discussion never advanced beyond a definition of telegrapher.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGoodness me. So it didn\u2019t. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Jane Simmons currently of Kansas but soon to be a resident of California as I am being transfered.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow did you come to work for Western Union?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMy best friend, Annie Ellsworth, was the girl who handed the first message to Samuel Morris to be transmitted from Washington to Baltimore.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201c\u2019What hath God wrought?\u2019 Numbers 23:23.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cExcellent, Mr. Cartwright! I see you are student of history.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd smart, adventurous women. Please call me Adam.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThen you must call me Jane and together we shall scandalize the posh people on this ship.\u201d Jane linked her arm through mine and as we walked the promenade the silvery tinkle of her laugh sent shivers down my spine.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Joe was stretched out on my bunk when I returned to the cabin after my stroll on deck with the charming Miss Simmons. I hung up my dinner jacket and sat down in the chair.<\/p>\n \u201cHappy?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat makes you think so?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou were whistling. I haven\u2019t heard you whistle since I\u2019ve been here. You\u2019re in love . . . Or at least lust.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cImpertinent knave!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat did you make of the Masque tonight?\u201d Joe asked earnestly.<\/p>\n \u201cI think if we can keep the dialogue to the period between ordering and food being served, we might survive with a minimum of bloodshed.\u201d I undid my tie and opened the top buttons of my shirt. \u201cWere you seriously flirting with Aneline?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n I mimicked him. \u201cThe moonlight pales in comparison to your beauty.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI told you, I\u2019m not Romeo.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, you\u2019re Tybalt.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe sat up quickly. \u201cHow did you figure that out?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYour performance tonight. Argumentative, aggressive, prone to violence. Well done brother.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe took a bow, then laid back against the pillows. \u201cAneline is a predator.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cShe\u2019d certainly like to get her hooks into you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI like Lady Margaret, though. If she were only twenty years younger.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOnly twenty? More like thirty.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou think she\u2019s sixty?\u201d<\/p>\n I shrugged. \u201cNear to. She does have spirit and intelligence.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo does Lady Jane. Charming, witty, intelligent. Perfect for you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGet out!\u201d But as the door clicked shut, I smiled. Lady Jane. <\/em>I liked the sound of that.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Day 3 \u2013 At Sea \u2013 Passing Time<\/p>\n Against type, Joe continued to wake up early and if I didn\u2019t see him at breakfast, I usually found him on deck talking with crew members. Although he quizzed them incessantly about their life at sea and adventures ashore, he never interfered with their duties that I observed.<\/p>\n Sometimes I would see him strolling on the promenade with one or more of the ladies from our table, including Miss Havermeyer who, I noted, clutched his arm as if her life depended on it. She reminded me of a squid whose suckers are embedded with hooks. Joe was correct, she was a predator. And it appeared he was her prey.<\/p>\n Every afternoon Joe played chess with Edwin Wilson who was then out of sorts by dinner. Joe could be a worthy opponent when he wanted to be and Edwin was obviously someone who didn\u2019t like to lose . . . at anything.<\/p>\n When not used for meals, the dining-saloon became an entertainment venue for impromptu sing-a-longs, musical performances and poetry readings. It was also the place to go to read, write letters, or play cards or board games.<\/p>\n I meandered through the room, stopping at a few tables to chat with other passengers before taking a seat in sight of the chess board and sat down ostensibly to read. It didn\u2019t take long to figure out Edwin\u2019s dander was up because Joe was contravening the conventions of the game. I suspected he was doing it for no other reason than to provoke Edwin\u2019s ire.<\/p>\n Even though I was familiar with Joe\u2019s tactics, he still could beat me now and again. He didn\u2019t gloat. Nor did he protest when he lost. Instead, he would tip over his king and shake my hand. As far as I could tell, Edwin had yet to win a game. No wonder he was sullen.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Day 3 \u2013 At Sea \u2013 Dinner<\/p>\n Our third night at sea was more of the same \u2014 excellent food and wine and a few more personality traits revealed during the Masque portion of the evening.<\/p>\n I had Miss DeVries pegged as Miranda which wasn\u2019t a stretch of the imagination at all given her youth and naivet\u00e9. Edwin Wilson was looking good for King Lear because he liked power and being in control.<\/p>\n The female roles were more problematic. I couldn\u2019t figure who was acting like Lady Macbeth \u2026 certainly not Lady Margaret. Or Lady Jane.<\/em><\/p>\n My earlier supposition that men could be playing female parts was beginning to have merit. If that were true then Matteo could be Lady Macbeth. I hadn\u2019t liked the man from the first night.<\/p>\n The only obvious casting was Dominik as Ophelia but that was too bizarre to contemplate and therefore it probably wasn\u2019t him.<\/p>\n At any rate the score was now likely 5 down and 4 to go.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Day 4 \u2013 At Sea \u2013 Stormy Weather<\/p>\n Hoss, quit jumping on the bed!<\/em><\/p>\n I thought I was dreaming but quickly realized that the sea was moving through all six degrees of motion with alarming intensity. I dressed in my familiar ranch clothes but wore my balmorals instead of boots because of better traction. Shaving was out of the question due to the heave, sway, surge, roll, pitch, and yaw so I donned my life vest and left the cabin.<\/p>\n My first concern was Joe. He met me halfway down the passage as I staggered side to side toward his cabin.<\/p>\n \u201cYou all right?\u201d I shouted. He didn\u2019t appear seasick but he was pale.<\/p>\n \u201cIs all that creaking normal?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s when it doesn\u2019t creak that you should worry. Go back to your cabin, put on your life vest and hunker down in your bunk. Do not go on deck!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes sir.\u201d<\/p>\n I encountered one of the officers battening down the hatches and offered my help quickly relating my maritime experience and the fact that I was an engineer. As the crew was overtaxed, he welcomed my help but first I had to check on Jane.<\/p>\n Having escorted her to her cabin the previous evening, I knew where to find her. She already had her life vest on and was in the passage way surrounded by a number of distraught women.<\/p>\n \u201cAre we sinking?\u201d she asked calmly.<\/p>\n \u201cNo. But you \u2014 all of you\u2014need to get dressed in warm clothing\u2014no petticoats or crinolines. Wear pants if you have them. Put your life vest on and stay in your cabin.\u201d<\/p>\n Jane pressed my cheeks between her palms. \u201cI rather like the rough look.\u201d She smoothed her thumbs across my lips and stood on tip toe to give me a decidedly unchaste kiss. \u201cNow get to work.\u201d<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n The squall line abated in due course but the rough seas and high winds continued and the promenade deck remained closed to passengers. Around mid-afternoon the culinary staff prepared a buffet of cold meats, bread, cheese, fruit, and desserts in the dining-saloon.<\/p>\n The room was packed with first- and second-class passengers and their children. Edwin was organizing who sat where. Definitely King Lear. <\/em>Miss DeVries hung on his every word and was obedient to his every command. Definitely Miranda.<\/em><\/p>\n Lady Margaret distracted and enthralled the children with tales of her adventures in Africa as a young girl.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n And in the corner with a baby on one hip and a spoon in the other hand feeding pudding to an elderly woman while debating the merits of westward expansion with her husband was my Lady Jane.<\/p>\n My focus was fractured by the sudden lurch of the ship and the concomitant gasp of the passengers, I called out \u201cDon\u2019t be concerned. Just a slight roll. The ship will correct itself momentarily.\u201d<\/p>\n I spotted Dominik near the desserts and made my way through the crowd to ask, \u201cHave you seen Joe\u2014Mr. DeMarigny?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe went below deck with that brassy redhead. She really ought not to wear orange with that color hair. It simply does not work.\u201d<\/p>\n Definitely Ophelia … unaware of the harsh realities of adult life.<\/em><\/p>\n Six down and three to go.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Day 4 \u2013 At Sea \u2013 The Infirmary<\/p>\n \u201cMmmm.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTake it easy, Joe.<\/p>\n \u201cAdam?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m here.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhere am I?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe infirmary. You\u2019ve got a bad concussion.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cS\u2019plains it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cExplains what?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSharp guy.\u201d<\/p>\n Sharp guy?<\/em>\u00a0 I must have looked perplexed for while I was trying to decipher Joe-speak, the doctor interceded.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s not unusual. Many concussed patients are disoriented when they waken, especially after receiving as severe a blow as he did.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cA cast iron frying pan upside the head will do that to a fella.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy would this man be in the galley? I thought he was a paying passenger.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know and he is.\u00a0 Oh, wait \u2026 I know.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhy he was in the galley?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo. I don\u2019t have a clue about that, but I do know what he meant by \u2018sharp guy.\u2019 We visited Notre Dame before sailing. He was referring to the bell that rings a perfect F sharp.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThe bell is called Emmanuel.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cExactly.\u201d I said. Now it was the doctor\u2019s turn to look confused. \u201cHe feels like Emmanuel is pounding inside his head.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAgain, to be expected. But if the patient is cognizant enough to make that connection, he\u2019ll likely recover with no side effects. However, I\u2019d like him to remain in the infirmary overnight\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201c\u2014All right\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n \u201c\u2014and then be confined to his cabin until we dock in New York.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s three days from now!\u201d<\/p>\n The doctor arched an eyebrow. \u201cWill that be a problem?\u201d<\/p>\n Only for me. <\/em>\u201cNo, of course not.\u201d<\/p>\n The doctor\u2019s stern gaze telegraphed his skepticism. \u201cTwenty-foot seas; 60 knot winds. Do I have to explain what another blow to the head would mean should he fall?\u201d<\/p>\n Properly chastised, I shook my head.<\/p>\n \u201cBring him back to the infirmary immediately if he experiences dizziness, neck pain, attention or memory issues. Is that clear?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, doctor. Thank you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll leave instructions and some powders with the orderly. You can sign him out tomorrow morning. Good night.\u201d<\/p>\n I had no intention of leaving my brother alone. Rough seas aside, I still didn\u2019t know who clobbered him or why. Was the attack related to the Masque?<\/em> I would have to have a word with Monsieur P\u00e9reire but meanwhile I would take advantage of the orderly\u2019s duty to watch over Joe while I searched for answers.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Day 5 \u2013 At Sea \u2013 Captain\u2019s Quarters<\/p>\n There is nothing that happens on board a ship of which the captain is unaware. This is true even for an ocean steamship carrying 2,045 souls. In essence, he is the absolute ruler of a small town comprised of officers, crew, first- and second-class passengers and the emigrants in steerage. The S\/S Amerique<\/em> was captained by Eduord Louis D\u2019Hauterive, a gentleman with 30 years of experience in the French navy, merchant ships and luxury liners.<\/p>\n I was prepared to settle with speaking to either the first or second officer about the attack on my brother but was informed that the captain wanted to meet with me personally and I was immediately shown to his cabin.<\/p>\n His quarters were cramped and crammed full of all manner of books of every size from naval histories to textbooks on navigation, mathematics and philosophy to novels as well as stacks of newspapers and magazines, maps, and equipment like telescopes, barometers, chronometers, sextants, and more.<\/p>\n He stood immediately to shake my hand and I involuntarily took a step back. The captain was not an ordinary-looking man being rather tall for a Frenchman, slight of frame, and wearing a full beard. But it was his eyes which made the most impression. One was as dark as Pa\u2019s and the other light blue like Hoss\u2019s. If the eyes are indeed windows to the soul, it was fair for me to presume the nature of this man was a blend of sunny days and foggy nights.<\/p>\n We exchanged pleasantries and I apologized for the intrusion which he brushed aside with a wave of his hand.<\/p>\n \u201cNonsense! Everything that happens on the Amerique<\/em> is of concern to me and nothing is more important than the welfare and well-being of her passengers. I understand your brother was injured in the galley. May I inquire what he was doing there?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI wish I knew, sir. I was hoping that in your investigation of the crime you\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n \u201c\u2014crime? What leads you to believe a crime was involved?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cPardon me, sir, but this isn\u2019t a case of slip and fall because of rough water. He was hit on the head with a cast iron frying pan resulting in a severe concussion and that, by definition, is assault and battery whether it happened on land or sea.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI apologize for any confusion on my part. The incident report I received was that a passenger was injured in the galley, which is off limits to passengers, hence my inquiry into what he was doing there. I ask your indulgence, Mr. Cartwright, as I seek to the ascertain the facts.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOn that goal we can agree,\u201d I said, pausing to weigh whether to volunteer information. \u201cI do not know for certain but I suspect that my brother may \u2014 and I repeat may \u2014 have gone to the galley to meet a woman he\u2019s been keeping company with on this voyage.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThere are no women serving on my crew in the galley or otherwise. Have you met this woman?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo. My brother told me that he was seeing a redhead and implied that she worked in the galley. I can think of no other reason he would go down there.\u201d<\/p>\n The captain\u2019s overall countenance remained neutral but I noted a vein pulsating in his neck. He calmly turned, crossed the small space and opened a door partway. \u201cLisette, come in here.\u201d<\/p>\n I then realized this room was just the captain\u2019s office and that his quarters must lay beyond. A few awkward, silent minutes passed before the door swung wide and an attractive young woman with red hair entered. \u201cYes, Papa?\u201d<\/p>\n Discretion being the better part of valor, I quietly took my leave of the Captain and his daughter trusting he would get to the bottom of the \u2018incident\u2019 and I returned to the infirmary thankful that Pa only had sons.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Day 6 \u2013 At Sea \u2013 The Aftermath<\/p>\n When it was time to leave the infirmary, I was informed by the Chief Steward that Joe and I had been relocated. Before I could protest, he explained the Captain had ordered a larger stateroom that we could both share so that I could tend to my brother in his convalescence.<\/p>\n \u2018Larger\u2019 was a relative term meaning only that there were now two bunks \u2014 one above the other instead of just one, two chests of drawers, and two chairs which made the room more cramped. The other addition was a small sink with built-in shelves above it for toiletries. The upside was that the cabin was closer to the head which meant less chance of Joe falling down getting to and from the toilet. The downside was the head was located at the bow of the ship which is the worst place to be in rough seas. Fortunately, the seas were now at 10-14 feet and winds around 25-30 knots.<\/p>\n All told, I supposed it was an improvement. The only reason I hesitated was that I had booked separate cabins for a reason: we had been in close proximity to each other day and night for a month prior to sailing and I thought Joe would welcome some breathing room on the journey home. In truth I didn\u2019t want the memory of our time together to be tarnished by last minute squabbling. Selfish, perhaps, but I had very much enjoyed our reunion and didn\u2019t want anything to spoil it.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n I made a special request for egg drop soup for Joe\u2019s lunch because I felt it could be tolerated even though his headaches hadn\u2019t diminished in frequency. Amazingly, he claimed it was better than Hop Sing\u2019s because it wasn\u2019t as salty but he made me promise I wouldn\u2019t tell our sometimes-temperamental cook.<\/p>\n Joe had just finished the bowl when there was a knock on the cabin door. I expected it was the steward coming to retrieve the tray and was surprised when I opened the door.<\/p>\n \u201cMay I come in?\u201d asked the Captain. I nodded and he stepped over the threshold, ducking as he entered.<\/p>\n \u201cCaptain, may I present my brother Joseph. Joe this is Captain Eduord D\u2019Hauterive.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe started to swing his leg over the side of the bed and the Captain quickly said, \u201cDon\u2019t get up, son. I only came to talk about the\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n He looked at me and must have recalled my taking exception to the classification of Joe’s injury as ‘an incident’ because he finished with \u201c\u2014crime in the galley. The Captain removed his cap, tucked it under his arm and leaned back against the door. \u201cI understand you took a tour of the ship with the Chief Purser.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo you are aware there are areas of the ship that are off limits to passengers.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s why I asked for the tour \u2026 to see what I couldn\u2019t see otherwise.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCareful,\u201d I said softly.<\/p>\n \u201cNo disrespect intended, sir. My father and my brother here both served as first mates on a ship and I\u2019ve spent my whole life on a cattle ranch and I just\u2014\u201c Joe bit his lip hard. \u201c\u2014I just wanted to know what the big attraction was because God knows they never talk about it!\u201d<\/p>\n So that explains Joe\u2019s interrogation of the crew.<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cThe Purser didn\u2019t take you to the galley.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBecause it\u2019s dangerous. Sharp instruments, boiling water, hot grease, open fires, pitch and roll of the ship . . . \u201c<\/p>\n \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo you knew how dangerous the galley is and that The French Line has a good reason for denying passengers access.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThen why did you go there?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBecause Hop Sing would demand a full description.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHop Sing is the family\u2019s factotum,\u201d I said. \u201cAmong other things he is an excellent cook.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s the why but not the how. How did you gain access to a restricted area below deck?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSomeone showed me the way down without being seen.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd would that someone have red hair?\u201d<\/p>\n Joe snapped his head towards the Captain so fast he cried out in pain at the sudden movement and leaned forward with his fingers against his temples.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s enough!\u201d I yelled, stepping between the Captain and my brother.<\/p>\n \u201cOne more question.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWho hit you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWas it the redhead?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s two questions \u2026 now leave!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI didn\u2019t see who hit me!\u201d<\/p>\n Thankful for the sink, I added a packet of powders to a glass of water and had Joe swallow it. After I eased him back down on the pillows I placed a wet washcloth on his brow. Only then did I turn to see the Captain still leaning against the door.<\/p>\n \u201cI told you to leave.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou did. However . . . scuttlebutt being what it is I thought it best to tell you in person before you hear it at dinner.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSpit it out–quickly. Joe needs to rest.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe know who the culprit is and have a witness, but I needed to hear your brother\u2019s side of the story. Although it wasn\u2019t exactly the truth of what happened it was close enough. His version corroborates the witness\u2019s account.\u201d<\/p>\n I made a guess. \u201cAnd that witness would be Lisette?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes. My daughter, Lisette.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe pulled the cloth off his head. \u201cLisette is your daughter?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAt this moment, regrettably yes. She\u2019s as high-spirited as her mother was. I thought bringing her to sea with me would temper her impetuousness. However, that\u2019s not your concern. What is of importance to you is that she has been very clear from the start that you have always behaved as a gentleman in her presence.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd she has always been a lady, sir.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWho wasn\u2019t behaving as a lady is the woman who followed the two of you into the galley and picked up the frying pan.\u201d<\/p>\n Joe inhaled audibly. \u201cAneline Havermeyer.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI thought you didn\u2019t know who hit you?\u201d I said.<\/p>\n \u201cI didn\u2019t but when the Captain said someone followed us, Aneline\u2019s face just flashed in front of me. She was screaming, saying crazy things like I was a gigolo and Lisette a Jezebel and worse. The last thing I remember seeing before I woke up in the infirmary was Lisette\u2019s face.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s because when Miss Havermeyer charged my daughter with the frying pan poised to strike, you pushed Lisette out of the way and took the blow yourself. You saved my daughter\u2019s life. Thank you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat will happen to Aneline,\u201d Joe asked.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s no longer of concern . . . To anyone.\u201d<\/p>\n I was enraged. \u201cWhat do you mean no longer a concern? Your daughter was assaulted. My brother was severely injured. Aren\u2019t you going to turn her over to the authorities in New York?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMiss Havermeyer hanged herself in the brig this morning.\u201d<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Day 7 \u2013 At Sea \u2013 The Way Forward<\/p>\n I spent the day in the cabin with Joe who slept most of the time. The steward brought scrambled eggs and broth for him and Jane came by several times with an assortment of foods she thought I would like.<\/p>\n Although she said she wasn\u2019t concerned about impropriety, I made sure the door to the cabin was open. Impropriety is one thing; notoriety is another and, as Lady Margaret had alluded to, people were always watching. The door stayed open.<\/p>\n During her visits we talked of my upbringing and hers, the books we\u2019ve read, the plays we\u2019ve seen or wished to see, politics, philosophy, music, where we\u2019ve been, and where we want to go. Everything except the Masque and what had happened to Aneline Havemeyer.<\/p>\n \u201cWho do you think her character was?\u201d Jane asked seemingly out of the blue although I\u2019m sure it was on both our minds.<\/p>\n Awake, Joe cleared his throat. \u201cCordelia.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow do you know?\u201d Jane asked.<\/p>\n \u201cCordelia was hung wasn\u2019t she? Or do I have the plays mixed up? King Lear?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCorrect,\u201d I said. \u201cCordelia loved her father, so did Aneline.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI thought the roles were assigned randomly, Adam. Coincidence?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt has to be,\u201d said Jane. \u201cNo one could guess who would leave the table that first night.<\/p>\n \u201cDid she leave a note?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, Joe. Whatever else Aneline was struggling with, we\u2019ll never know what her motivation was.\u201d I stood up and filled his glass with water from the sink. \u201cDrink.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t want any more medicine. It makes me groggy.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo powders, just water. Drink.”\u00a0 When he finished, I put the class in the sink and retook my seat. “It occurs to me the purpose of the Masque was not about taking on the role assigned to us but about recognizing the characteristics and motivations of Shakespeare\u2019s creations so we could better understand ourselves.\u201d<\/p>\n Jane thought about it and then asked, \u201cWhat would be the purpose in devising such a complex parlor game?\u201d<\/p>\n Joe ventured a guess. \u201cLady Margaret said that long days at sea were tedious. You have to admit this voyage has been anything but.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt has been enlightening,\u201d Jane said. \u201cI think Edwin is King Lear. Lear enjoys absolute power and being flattered and he doesn\u2019t like being contradicted or challenged but by the end of the play he changes into a common man who realizes the true nature of the world.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat makes you think that\u2019s Edwin?\u201d asked Joe.<\/p>\n \u201cFaced with his own mortality during the storm, Edwin discovered compassion for others.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo since Tybalt is an aggressive ass that means I am? I am Tybalt by the way . . . in the masque . . . not in reality. At least I don’t think I am. Oh, don’t make me think at all. It hurts too much.\u201d<\/p>\n Jane laughed, \u201cBut you just as easily could be Romeo . . . a handsome, intelligent hero.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI told you so, Joe. You are multi-faceted.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou have many sides to your personality . . . as we all do.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWho are you then older brother?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s easy,\u201d said Jane. \u201cAdam is Othello, an eloquent storyteller who is respected but often feels like an outsider.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd beautiful, witty, warm, and resilient Rosalind is my Lady Jane.\u201d<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Day 8 \u2013 At Sea \u2013 Game Over<\/p>\n The farewell dinner on our last night was a quiet one. I thought Henri Chevalier and the Worthington\u2019s would join us but they did not and with Miss Havermeyer deceased, the table for 12 was now set for 8.<\/p>\n I shared my view that the game was more about understanding the masks we all wear than trying to assign characteristics and motivations to others. We decided as a group to forego the balloting and the prize money because the Masque had served its purpose. Stephan put on a disappointed face but I caught him smiling as he turned away.<\/p>\n I was wrong about several things. Matteo was not a roue or rake. He was in truth what he said he was–a wealthy businessman and investment broker . . . who happened also to be Lady Margaret\u2019s lover.<\/p>\n But the climax of the game was when Dominik stood, removed his wig, and identified himself in flawless english as Monsieur P\u00e9reire one of the owners of The French Line and the creator of the Masque. He apologized for the deception and said that all of the remaining players would be reimbursed their full fare. He also added that Miss Havermeyer\u2019s refund would be sent to her father with company\u2019s condolences.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Day 9 \u2013 New York City \u2013 Disembarkation<\/p>\n I had insisted on a wheelchair for my brother during disembarkation. The fact that Joe did not protest told me he needed it more than he would admit. Although subsiding in severity\u2014or so he said\u2014the headaches continued. Without saying why, I would wire Pa to let him know we would be spending an extra week in New York City, trusting he would attribute the brevity of my message to the medium.<\/p>\n The Captain, First Officer, and Chiefs were lined up to bid farewell to the cabin-class passengers. Other officers would be positioned at another ramp to do the same for the steerage class.<\/p>\n As we approached the exit I saw the First Officer speak quietly to the Captain. He looked briefly in my direction, nodded curtly, and resumed his farewells until it was our turn.<\/p>\n \u201cMr. Cartwright and Mr. DeMarigny.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJoe Cartwright, sir. DeMarigny was my mother\u2019s maiden name. It was . . . for the game.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAh. The Masque. I shall have to have a word with Monsieur P\u00e9reire.”<\/p>\n \u201cI wouldn\u2019t be too harsh,\u201d I said. \u201cWe all wear masks and play many parts in an effort to discover our true selves.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLike that of an architect who fixes bilge pumps?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s my brother,\u201d Joe beamed. \u201cCowboy, engineer, architect, musician, thespian… you name it, he can do it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd which one is his best role?\u201d asked the Captain.<\/p>\n \u201cThat of older, wiser brother.\u201d<\/p>\n Shaking the Captain\u2019s hand I said, \u201cIf you ever want to give up the sea, you\u2019d make a terrific prosecutor.\u201d<\/p>\n ***The End***<\/p>\n Written for the 2023 Ponderosa Paddlewheel Poker Tournament. The words\/phrases dealt to me were:<\/p>\n hanging Author’s Note:\u00a0 \u00a0Sarah G. Bagley was the first woman telegrapher. In February 1847 she was hired by New York and Boston Magnetic Telegraph Company for their office in Springfield, Massachusetts. She was unhappy to discover her salary was only three-quarters of what the man she replaced earned and thus began her commitment to human equality and the rights of women.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n
\nand all the men and women merely players.
\nThey have their exits and their entrances;
\nand one man in his time plays many parts.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n
\ncast iron frying pan
\npen knife
\ntobacco
\n\u201cburning daylight\u201d<\/p>\n