Dragons in the Waters - Madeleine L'Engle, ebook, CALIBRE SFF 1970s, Temp 1
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//-->Color---1- -2- -3- -4- -5- -6- -7- -8- -9-Text Size--10-- 11-- 12-- 13-- 14-- 15-- 16-- 17-- 18-- 19-- 20-- 21-- 22-- 23-- 24Dragons in the WatersByMadeleine L'EngleContents•••••••1 The Fork Lift2 The First Night at Sea3 The WordUmar4 A Strange Game of Bridge5 Nocturne6 The Bolivar Portrait7 The Hearse•••••8 Murder9 Port of Call10 The Body in the Hearse11 The Lake of Dragons12 The Return of the Phair1THE FORK LIFTThe M.S.Orionwas tied up at Savannah, Georgia.Simon Renier, hands in the pockets of his old-fashioned grey shorts,looked at the small white ship with mounting excitement. He would bespending the next week on theOrionen route to Venezuela and already,standing on the pier in Savannah, he was faraway from home than he had everbeen in his thirteen years.It was chill this February day, with a thin rain and a biting wind. In a moresheltered part of the dock stood his cousin, Forsyth Phair, with whom hewould be traveling, and his great-aunt Leonis Phair, with whom he lived, andwho had come with them on the train from Charleston to see them off. Simonlooked at the two of them standing under the shelter of the shed and theirumbrellas and thought that if he were traveling with Aunt Leonis instead ofCousin Forsyth he would be perfectly happy.Aunt Leonis was comfort and all-rightness in a precarious world; CousinForsyth he had known for barely a month, and while the distinguished-lookingmiddle-aged man was courteous and pleasant he was not outgoing and toSimon he was still a stranger. He looked damp and uncomfortable with therain dripping off his large black umbrella, and the collar to his dark raincoatturned up. Even the corners of his waxed moustache seemed to droop. Theold woman, on the other hand, stood straight as an arrow, unperturbed by thedownpour."Can't you come, too?" Simon had begged her."I'm too tired, child," the old woman had said. "At ninety I've earned theright to my rocking chair and my books. Besides, I have to stay home andtake care of Boz." The old dog in pointer years was almost as old as AuntLeonis. His proud skeleton showed under the still-glossy liver-spotted body,and Simon felt a tightening of his stomach muscles as he realized that the oldhound might not be there when he returned.He turned his face to the rain and moved farther away from Aunt Leonisand Cousin Forsyth, past the gangplank of theOrion,and on down the dock.All around him was activity, the tall yellow arms of theOrionswinging sacksof seed and grain and rice up onto the ship, to be stored in the hold. Simonwatched in fascination as a large station wagon was carefully hoisted up fromthe dock, swung loose for a moment high in the air, then was lowered gentlyonto the fore-deck.On the aft deck stood the passengers who had already embarked atBrooklyn or Baltimore, eagerly watching the business of loading the freighter.A few of them waved at him, and he waved shyly back. Then he turned towatch the orange fork lifts buzzing rapidly up and down the dock, the twolong tines of their forks fitting neatly into the small wooden platforms ontowhich bags and bales were piled. Great yellow arms swung out from theOrion,dropping heavy ropes which were looped around sacks and platform;the crane raised its burden to the ship's fore-deck, and the highly mobile forklift darted away, moving far more easily than an ordinary tractor, turning on adime to reach for another load. The sailor managing the long-angled pincersfrom his glassed-in cab high up on theOrionswung the bags and sacks witheasy accuracy. Everywhere was bustle, and men's shouting, and the smell ofwet wood and the salt wind from the sea. Simon would be almost sorry whenthey boarded, so fascinating was the loading procedure.He jumped as he heard a horn, and a Land-Rover drove onto the dock, fullof children who kept piling out, like clowns out of a car at the circus. Simonfound it difficult to keep count, but it appeared to be a mother and father andseven children. After considerable shouting and laughing, the two olderchildren, a girl and a boy, sorted themselves out, managed to get two batteredsuitcases from the Land-Rover, and came to stand not far from Simon. Themother urged the younger children back into the car, out of the rain, and thefather, rain dripping off his cap, stood leaning in the window, talking to themother.The girl, banging her old suitcase against her knees, dropped it by thegangplank and came on down the dock toward Simon. Her brother followed.She was, Simon guessed, maybe a year older than he was, maybe fourteen,and probably would resent being called a child. The boy looked younger,although he was as tall as Simon, who guessed him to be no more than twelve.Both brother and sister wore yellow slickers and sou'westers, and wereconsiderably drier than Simon, whose fair hair was slicked wetly to his head."Hello," the girl said. "Are you going on theOrion?"Her accent was notquite foreign, but it was certainly more precise than the soft Southern speechSimon was accustomed to hearing."Yes'm. Are you?""Yes. At least, Charles and Daddy and I are." She smiled, a swift spreadingof sunlight over her face. "How nice to have someone our age. Daddy warnedus that freighter passengers tend to be ancient. I'm Poly O'Keefe, pronouncedPolly but spelled with oneI.I'm fourteen. And this is my brother, Charles.He's twelve."So he had been right. "I'm Simon Renier, and I'm thirteen."Again Poly smiled, a shaft of light lifting the drab day. "You're not travelingalone, are you?"He indicated the man and the old woman. Suddenly Cousin Forsythstepped forward as one of the fork lifts picked up a large flat wooden crate.He watched anxiously as ropes from theOrionwere looped around it. "Bevery careful," he fussed. "It's extremely valuable. It contains an irreplaceableportrait."The dock hands nodded indifferently as they went about their business.The fork lift backed away from the crate, which was then lifted up in the airand hung swinging between the ship and the dock."What's in there?" Poly asked Simon. "Your father looks as though he'sabout to have a heart attack." The horn of the Land-Rover tooted beforeSimon could answer or correct her. "We have to say goodbye!" Poly cried."We'll be back in a minute, Simon!" and she and Charles ran across the dock,dodging loading trucks and fork lifts.Simon watched rather wistfully while there was a tangle of hugging andkissing goodbye. Then he looked up at theOrionjust in time to see the greatcrate with the portrait being safely lowered onto the deck, and Cousin Forsythmopping his forehead with his handkerchief as though it were hot.Aunt Leonis was still standing in the shelter of the shed and her small, notvery waterproof umbrella. Simon ran over to her, skidding on the wet boards."Where's Cousin Forsyth going?""He's off to make sure the portrait isn't going to get banged or crushed. Icertainly can't complain about his care of it. He's overzealous, if anything."She put her gnarled old hand on his head. "You're soaking, Simon!""Yes, ma'am.""You'll be boarding in a minute or two. You're old enough to take care ofyourself without me, aren't you?""Yes, ma'am.""And don't let Forsyth overprotect you. He can keep that for the portrait. Iwant you to have some fun."He leaned lightly against her. "I'll miss you.""It's time you got out of the nest, child. A nonagenarian is hardly a fitcompanion for a boy. I'm glad there are other young persons on board.""Yes, ma'am!""I'm going now, Simon. I have a train to catch." She was still taller than hewas. She bent down, and he kissed her softly on each cheek. For a briefmoment she held him to her. Then she stood upright and gave him a littleshove. "Run along, now."Tears filled his eyes. He did not want her to see. Moving in a blur of tearsand rain, he crossed the dock. He paused at the gangplank but the tears wouldnot be held back. Poly and Charles had said their goodbyes and were hurryingalong the dock toward him.No one must see him cry.He moved on past the gangplank, past the stem of theOrion,on to thevery end of the dark, slippery dock. He did not see the fork lift, out ofcontrol, hurtling toward him.Someone on deck screamed.He felt a shove, and then both he and Poly O'Keefe were in the water.The fork lift ground to a screeching halt, barely avoiding crashing off thedock after them.The water was icy cold. Their clothes dragged them down.From the deck of theOrionround orange life preservers were thrown intothe water for them, but both Simon and Poly had managed to grab onto thepilings of the dock and were clinging to them safely. Dock hands pulled themup out of the chilling water, and they stood dank and dripping in the Februaryrain.The driver of the fork lift kept explaining that his accelerator had stuck.The shivering boy and girl were surrounded by the entire O'Keefe family,by sailors and dock hands. Aunt Leonis used her umbrella to get through themob to Simon. Through chattering teeth he said, "I'm all right, Aunt Leonis.Please don't miss your train."The old woman turned her sharp eyes on Poly. "I saw. You saved him. Ifyou hadn't thrown yourself at him and got him out of the path of the fork lifthe'd be—" She looked at the vicious prongs of the fork lift and did not finishher sentence. She turned to the father of the family. "You will watch out forhim, sir? I am gravely concerned."Dr. O'Keefe replied, "Of course I'll keep an eye out for him. But I don'tthink you need worry. It was only an unfortunate accident."Aunt Leonis looked at him sharply, but all she said was, "Where isForsyth? If he's going to worry about the portrait to the exclusion of theboy—"
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