Jacob

“I CAN’T SEE anything, but someone’s out there.” Sam is leaning over the rail, straining to make out a form in the darkening water. “Someone must have fallen overboard.”

“I’ll go for help.” I’m about to sprint back toward the elevators when Sam grips my arm and pulls me back.

“There’s no time, we’re losing her.” Sam is suddenly the man in charge. He puts his hands to his mouth and bellows into the void. “Hello, can you hear me?”

Old memories come flooding back. I pulled bodies, some living, some dead, onto the deck of the HMS Kipling during the war. It isn’t an experience I want to repeat.

“Help!” The shouts fade until they are almost inaudible above the sound of the waves slapping against the side of the boat and the thrum of the motor. Either the woman is growing weaker or she’s drifting farther from the ship.

“Hang in there. We’re sending help.” Sam is wild eyed, scanning the deck like a madman, then he pitches plastic chairs overboard. I can see their white forms bobbing in the water. He shouts into the abyss, “Swim over to one of those chairs and hang on. We’re going to get you out.”

At first all I see are chairs drifting away from us, but then a form takes shape, the silhouette of a woman struggling toward the ship. As she gets closer, the red running lights illuminate her body and I can see that she’s young with a mass of long wet hair hanging around her face. She tries to grab one of the chairs, but she’s weak and disoriented and the waves tear it from her grip. We lose sight of her as the ship continues its journey forward.

Sam rips off his shoes and shimmies out of his trousers. “Get help. Tell them to lower a lifeboat. I’ll keep her head above water as long as I can.” Then he’s gone, just like that. As I stare overboard, I see his head surface, then his body. He’s alive and swimming. I take off running, screaming as I go, “Man overboard. Man overboard.”

Most of the other passengers are unaware of the drama unfolding just beyond the ship. The music and dancing continue unabated while I pace grim-faced, hugging myself against an odd chill despite the warm weather. There are only a few of us, a half dozen crew members and a handful of curious bystanders on the lower deck waiting for the lifeboat to return. The rescue effort doesn’t take long, but I’ve lost all sense of time and it feels as though years have passed before I see Sam, wrapped in a warm blanket, step off the tender. He’s followed by two uniformed crew carrying a body on a stretcher.

I run to him and clasp him around the shoulders. “Thank God you’re alive. What were you thinking? That was the craziest stunt I’ve ever seen.” He’s shivering and seems to be in shock. A few soggy Fruit Loops still hang from the string plastered to his chest. The man is a hero. Who would have guessed he had it in him?

“She’s going to be okay,” he manages to say through chattering teeth. “They got us in time.”

He pulls away from me and runs after the stretcher. “Sorry, they don’t have a real doctor on board and she needs immediate medical attention. See you tomorrow.”

So, I’m left standing by myself again. This certainly isn’t the little harbor cruise I’d envisioned when I boarded the ship, but what a story I’ll have for Michael when I get home.

THE SUN HITS me full in the face and I turn to bury my eyes in the pillow when I remember Sam and the half-drowned woman. I reach for the bedside clock and see that it’s almost eight. How long have I been asleep? I remember wandering around the ship at loose ends after Sam ran off. I’d paced the ship for an hour or so, then sat by myself nursing a drink before returning to my cabin. Could I have slept ten hours? Time is a slippery commodity on this ship. Who knows how long I’ve slept?

I wash, dress quickly, and head up to the dining room, hoping to find Sam when a new thought hits me. Maybe he was evacuated with the woman during the night. I turn and run down the stairs toward the customer relations desk on the lower level. There’s a new clerk on duty. Maybe it’s her impeccable uniform or the gray hair with every lacquered strand in place, but I’m put off and hesitate before approaching. She’s on the phone and holds up a long, polished fingernail indicating that I should wait. As other passengers queue up behind me, she turns her back on us and continues her conversation.

She finally hangs up and turns to me without a word of apology. “Do you need something?”

Of course, I need something. Why else would I be standing here? But I don’t say what I’m thinking and smile pleasantly. “There was an incident last night. A woman fell overboard and was rescued by one of your lifeboats. Do you know how she’s doing? Is she still aboard?”

“No, but I was with the fellow who dived in to save her, a Dr. Rabinowitz. Do you know if he’s with her now?”

She sighs and purses her lips. “Access to sickbay is restricted to family and medical personnel. Is there anything else? There are people waiting behind you.”

“Yes.” I decide to stand my ground. “Please call sickbay for me and ask if Dr. Rabinowitz is there.”

She reaches for a notepad and a pencil. “You can call yourself. Here’s the number. Use the phone to the left of the grand stairway. Next.” She hands me a slip of paper and turns her attention to a young woman holding a squalling child by the hand.

I hadn’t noticed the phone booth before. It’s one of those sumptuous little padded cells that are in the lobbies of opera houses or fancy hotels. I slip inside and dial the number. To my surprise, Sam answers on the first ring.

“I’m fine now that I’ve dried out, but the girl . . . um. How about if we meet in the dining room? I didn’t sleep a wink last night and I could really use coffee.”

A few minutes later we’re carrying coffee and cheese Danish out of the dining room, away from the hubbub of the breakfast crowd, and into a small interior room furnished with rows of chairs, a small lectern, and a portable movie screen. The room is set up for meetings or lectures, but now it’s perfectly quiet. The lights are turned off and, as if by agreement, neither of us switches them on. The dim light is a balm to our jangled nerves. I settle into a chair in the back row and motion for Sam to join me. “So, what’s the story? Last night you said she’d be fine. Has anything changed?”

“Not really, she’s young and strong and should be back to normal in a couple of days. I expect she’ll make a complete recovery.”

Sam nods, giving me a tentative half smile. There’s clearly more to the story than he’s telling.

I wait, but he doesn’t say anything more. “If the patient’s making such a splendid recovery, why the long face?”

“She’s fine physically, more than fine. She’s in remarkable shape under the circumstances, but she can’t tell us what happened. She doesn’t remember anything, not even her own name.”

“Well, I’m no doctor, but I’m pretty sure retrograde amnesia is pretty common following a big accident, especially if someone’s hit their head.”

“Yes, of course, but no one knows who she is. They checked the ship’s manifest and everyone’s accounted for. They’re wondering if she fell off some other ship. Isn’t that weird?”

“She’s clearly from a nice family, educated, well-spoken, and really sweet. Do you know what she said when she woke up this morning? She said, “Are you alright? You could have gotten killed jumping off a ship like that.” He took a bite of his Danish. “Isn’t that amazing? She calls me Dr. Mark Spitz.”

“Yeah, she’s got a sense of humor. Wouldn’t you think a girl like that would have family desperate to find her? But the captain hasn’t received any missing person notices and there’s no request for search and rescue from any other ship. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe she’s a stowaway. That would explain why she doesn’t want anyone to know her name or where she’s from.” I can see that Sam doesn’t like this idea, but it’s all I can come up with.

“She was wearing a bikini for God’s sake. Who stows away in a bikini?” He dunks his Danish into his coffee before polishing it off. “Anyway, if you talked to her, you’d see that she’s not the sort of person who sneaks onto ships without paying.”

I can see that Sam has taken a shine to this girl. “What happens to her now? They can’t just dump her at the next port without a name or a toothbrush.”

“I’ll keep her in sickbay as long as I can and hope her memory starts to come back. Most people recover in time, but not everyone. Some people never remember who they are.”

“That must be awful, like someone with dementia finding themselves in an institution surrounded by strangers.” The thought brings back recent memories of my own.

“She’s very confused right now. I mean, who wouldn’t be? Thank God, we heard her when we did. Another few minutes and she’d have drowned.” Sam turns and stares out a porthole at the water reaching to the horizon.

“That’s true, and you saved her. You’re quite the hero. Seriously, you deserve a medal. When did you learn to swim like that?”

“I’m not a swimmer, not really. I just jumped in without thinking about it.”

“Well, you saved her life, but you almost gave me a heart attack.” I smile at our local hero and pat him on the back. “When can I meet this mermaid you pulled from the sea?”

“If she feels well enough, I guess you could meet her tomorrow. I’ll ask if she’s up for company.” Sam stands up and brushes the crumbs from his slacks. “I better get back to my duties as the volunteer doctor.”

“What do we call this naiad with no name? We can’t keep calling her the girl.”

“I don’t know. If she doesn’t remember her name, I guess she’ll have to choose something.” Sam is already halfway out the door.

“See if she likes Clio or Doris. They’re Greek sea nymphs.” I’m not sure if he’s heard me. The door slams shut and I’m all alone with a cup of cold coffee.

It’s still morning and I have no idea what to do with the day. I could go to the library. There’s nothing wrong with passing the day with a good book, but as I wander from the meeting room past a bank of tall windows, I see the sun is shining and decide to go for a swim. It doesn’t take long to change into the swimsuit the cruise line’s provided. The air is warm, the sun is bright, and the pool is quiet and uncrowded. I pound my belly for the simple pleasure of hearing a resounding thud, then do a racing dive into the water. It’s colder than I expect, but I was a good swimmer in my day, and I have no problem finding my rhythm and completing several laps of the Australian crawl. I’m barely winded, but I switch to a breaststroke just for some variety. Stroke-inhale, glide-exhale, stroke-inhale . . . I lift my head and catch a glimpse of a familiar pair of legs at the far end of the pool. I stop swimming and tread water to get a better look as the woman attached to those legs hurries past in a modest swimsuit and wide brimmed hat. It’s her again. It’s Bess or Bess’s double. I swim faster but every time I come up for air she’s closer to the exit. It’s hopeless. By the time I reach the edge and pull myself from the pool, she’s gone again.

I’m standing at the shallow end of the pool, dripping and confused, when a waiter with a tray of drinks walks by. “Excuse me. I’m sorry, but I was wondering, do you happen to know the woman who just left, the one in the big hat?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know her name, but she is very good at crossword puzzles. She finished this before I could bring her coffee.” He hands me a magazine he has tucked under his arm. It’s turned to the puzzle page. Every square is neatly filled with a simple printed letter. They are just simple block letters, but my heart stops. It’s Bess’s handwriting. I’d swear it is.

“Does she come here often?” I ask. “Would I see her if I came tomorrow at this time?”

“I couldn’t say sir, but I’ve seen her before. She usually sits just there.” He indicates a lounge chair beneath a yellow umbrella. “She does a puzzle or reads a book, always by herself. She comes and goes. I couldn’t say when she’ll be back. I’m sorry, sir.” He smiles and I wonder if I should tip him, but he doesn’t wait and hurries off with his tray of drinks.

I want to go down to the customer relations desk to ask about the woman, to learn her real name and put this nonsense to rest, but what would I say? Could you tell me the name of the lovely lady who looks remarkably like my late wife? Not likely. All the air has suddenly gone out of the morning, and I no longer feel like swimming. I return to my cabin, change back into street clothes, and wonder if Sam will meet me for lunch. Odd that my only friend on this cruise is a fellow young enough to be my grandson, but I like the boy, in fact, I’m in awe of him. Imagine, jumping off a ship to save a girl. That Veronica he was engaged to made a big mistake. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Dr. Sam Rabinowitz it’s that he’s not boring.

“So, how’s the mermaid?” I ask Sam who’s wolfing down a corned beef sandwich in the Sea Breeze Café. I’d like to tell him about the woman who looks like Bess, but he doesn’t know I’m married or widowed or whatever, and it would be too hard to explain. He looks remarkably well for a young man who might have been paralyzed or dead if things had gone the wrong way last night. In fact, he’s glowing. God bless the young. I fish around in my bowl of clam chowder for a bit of potato, but I’m not hungry.

“She’s remarkable. I’ve never met anyone like her. She nearly drowns, can’t remember a thing about what happened, not even her own name, and yet she keeps asking about me as though I’m the patient. She’s already up and walking around, although I’d really like to keep her in bed for a day or two, just to let her recover from the shock.”

“So, can I hope to meet her sometime soon?” I take a spoonful of soup, but it’s gone cold, and I push it away.

“Sure, she wants company, but you can’t mind if she doesn’t make a lot of sense after what happened.” He lowers his voice as though he’s telling me a secret. “I brought her a mirror this morning so she could clean up, but also because mirrors sometimes trigger memories in amnesiacs. Seeing themselves sometimes helps them remember who they are. Anyway, she looked in the mirror a long, long time and I expect her to say, “Oh yes, now I remember. My name is Sally Smith and I’m from Buffalo, but she doesn’t say anything. She just keeps looking and looking. So finally, I say, ‘What is it? What are you looking at?’ And she turns to me and says, ‘That girl looks just like my sister.’ It was kind of Twilight Zone, but like I said, she’s not thinking straight.”

“Well, that’s a clue. She has a sister. I bet a lot of stuff will come back to her over the next few days. How old would you say she is?”

Sam blushes. I’m really growing fond of this boy. Not many young men these days have the modesty to blush.

“A doctor has to be observant in a case like this. Everything’s a clue, like her teeth for instance. They’re perfect. She’s had orthodontia and ongoing dental attention so she must come from a family that could provide all that. Oh, and they pipe classical music into sickbay to calm the patients. When the nurse turned it on, she sat up and said, ‘Dvorak’s cello concerto. That’s one of my favorites.’ Anyway, she’s not just some random stowaway. She’s an educated girl from a family that took good care of her. I don’t understand why there aren’t helicopters and search boats out looking for her. The captain made inquiries and there isn’t so much as a missing persons bulletin.”

“I expect someone will come forward to claim her in a few days, but it is odd.” I push my chair back from the table and stand up. “Let me know when she’s well enough to leave sickbay. I’m not allowed down there family and medical personnel only.”

“You won’t have to wait long. She hates being a patient. How about if we all meet in the dining room for breakfast tomorrow? But let’s make it on the late side, say ten o’clock, after the crowd’s had a chance to thin out.”

Sam shakes his head. “Actually, it would be better if you asked for an inside table with no view. It’s going to be awhile before she wants to look at water again.”

I nod. “Wish her a speedy recovery from me and tell her that I’m looking forward to making her acquaintance.” I give Sam a little nautical salute then wander up to the library to look for a good book.

THE YOUNG WOMAN isn’t quite what I was expecting which isn’t surprising since I’ve been picturing a mermaid. She’s tanned, with dark curly hair, a slender figure, and large, green eyes. Those eyes are her best feature. She leans on Sam who keeps a protective hand on her arm as he leads her to our table.

I stand to greet her. “How do you do, I’m Jacob Kanter. Sam tells me you’re quite the swimmer.”

“I’m not that good, in fact, I couldn’t have held out much longer. I’d have drowned for sure if you two hadn’t rescued me.” She tilts her face toward me, and I’m treated to a wan smile that’s all moonlight and shadows. No wonder Sam is smitten. “How do you thank someone for saving your life?”

“Oh, it’s Sam you need to thank, not me. I just alerted the crew. He’s the one who jumped off the ship to haul you in.”

“I know.” She turns her smile toward him, but this time I detect a hint of starlight. “It’s a miracle he wasn’t killed in the process. That was a stupid thing to do, Dr. Spitz.”

“Well, I hate losing a patient.” Sam pulls out a chair and eases her into it before taking a seat beside her.

The girl sags like a rag doll propped against the back of the chair. The poor thing’s clearly weaker than she looks. Like me, she’s wearing a shirt with the Aqua Meridian logo embroidered on the pocket. There’s a gold bauble hanging from a chain around her neck. It’s engraved with a few words that I can’t read. Thinking they may be a clue to her identity, I say, “That’s a pretty necklace you’re wearing. What does it say?”

She reaches behind her neck, takes it off and hands it to me. “It’s nonsense. Sam and I have been trying to figure it out, but it’s just gibberish. What do you make of it?”

There are five short lines engraved on a cat’s face, or rather half a cat’s face. It’s been cut along a jagged line like one of those friendship necklaces girls used to exchange. Presumably, someone else has the other half. I hold it up to the light to read the small letters.

errie &

leteazer

derful

king

ether

“I can’t help you. It doesn’t make any sense to me either. You’ve only got half of each word here.”

“Exactly, king is the only real word, and even that one might be wrong.” She fastens the chain back around her neck. “It feels like a clue, but I don’t know what it means.”

I hand her a menu. “Let’s get some breakfast into you. We can decipher your necklace later.”

She studies the menu, then looks up in alarm. “I don’t have any money. I can’t pay for anything.”

“No one pays for their meals on this ship. Everything’s included in the cruise,” I reassure her.

“But I didn’t pay for the cruise. I’m not a passenger or . . .” Her lovely, young face is contorted by confusion and despair. “Or am I? I don’t know.”

Sam takes her hand. “All the Aqua Meridian passengers are accounted for, so you probably weren’t booked on this ship, but for now the captain says you’re his guest. You’re not to worry about a thing. Order whatever you want. Go wherever you want. As long as you’re on board you’ll be treated the same as all the other passengers.”

“That doesn’t sound right. They ought to put me to work swabbing the decks or something.”

“You can swab some decks when you’re feeling stronger. Right now, you’re my patient and I prescribe a cheese omelet with toast and strawberry jam.”

I fill her cup with hot coffee from a carafe on the table. “This is the ship’s maiden voyage and quite a number of passengers, myself included, received free tickets, so don’t feel bad. There are a lot of freeloaders aboard. You’re in good company.”

“I am, but I’ve lived in Canada for many years now. Where are you from?” I’m hoping the answer will simply slip out and that we’ll have another clue to her identity, but she looks at me with chagrin.

“I don’t know. I don’t have an English accent, so I must be from the US or Canada. Can you tell from the way I talk? Do you know where I’m from?” She’s sincere. She’d really like us to give her a home, to place her on the map.

“Sam, do you have a pen? I’ll only need it a moment.” He hands me a ballpoint and I write the letter Z on a corner of the menu then show it to the girl. “What’s this? What do you call that?”

She looks at me bewildered. “Zee, it’s the letter zee. I can still read, thank God.”

I click the pen shut and hand it back to Sam. “She’s a Yankee. A Canadian would have said zed.”

The nameless lady stares at me dumbfounded. “Really? I’m an American? That helps, it really does. Thank you.”

“I’m not great with accents,” Sam says, “but I’m pretty sure you’re not from Texas or the deep south if that helps.”

What would it feel like to forget your own name, your home, your family? I’d been heading in that direction myself before this trip. Maybe the cruise will work the same magic on her. She wipes at her eyes with her napkin. “I’m sorry, this is so weird. I remember everything except who I am and where I came from. I want to hit my head against a wall to shake things loose. I mean, I could be anyone. I could be a bank robber, or a murderer and I wouldn’t know it. My God, I hope I’m not a criminal.”

“You’re not a criminal. Don’t upset yourself with such ugly thoughts. It’s more likely that you’re a mermaid. Do you know the story of the little mermaid?” I’m desperate to distract her, to cheer her up a bit.

She shakes her head. “Not really, I’ve heard of it, but I can’t remember how it goes. I guess that’s one more thing I’ve forgotten.”

“Well, then, let me tell you.” To be honest, I don’t remember most of the story either, but I improvise. “Once upon a time there was a beautiful mermaid who lived in the sea. She lived with her father, the King of the Mer-people and she had everything a mermaid could want, except for one thing.” What was the thing? I search my memory and come up blank. What would a mermaid want? She falls in love with the prince, but that isn’t it. Then I remember. “Mermaids live a long time, but she’d heard that humans have immortal souls and that’s what she yearned for beyond all else.” The girl is listening with the upturned face of a small child, so I go on, hoping the story will help her forget everything she can’t remember. “Her grandmother tells her to be happy because mermaids live a thousand years while humans rarely live a hundred. But the mermaid refuses to be consoled. She goes to an old mer-witch, a water sorceress with special powers, and she begs her for an immortal soul. The witch laughs at her and says that the only way she can get a human soul is to fall in love with a human who loves her back. ‘But,’ she cackles, ‘mermaids can’t live on land and humans can’t live in water, so it’s never happened, not once since the beginning of time.’”

“So, it’s just an unproven hypothesis,” the doctor interjects. “No one knows if it would even work.”

“Exactly,” I agree. “It’s an unproven hypothesis that’s never been put to the test. But the little mermaid doesn’t care because she’s seen a young prince sailing on one of his father’s pleasure boats and she’s already fallen in love with him.”

Our patient is looking inward, mulling something over, so I stop the story and wait patiently.

“Love at first sight isn’t very realistic, is it?” She sneaks a quick peek at the young doctor. “Do real people ever fall in love that fast?”

“I did.” I almost tell her the story of how I met Bess, but then I remember that things are complicated here and bite my tongue.

“So,” I go on, “the mermaid dreams that someday the prince will fall in love with her and that they’ll spend all eternity together. But years go by, and he never even sees her when she swims to the surface to watch him sailing or swimming in the sea with his royal friends. Then one day while he’s out sailing the sky turns dark, a great wind begins to blow, and a storm overturns the prince’s boat. The prince is borne away by a wave. No, wait a minute, that’s not right.” What the hell happens? I don’t remember, but I soldier on hoping that something will come to me. “He begins to sink to the bottom of the sea where the mermaids live. The little mermaid sees him and quickly takes him in her arms and swims with him to a beautiful island where she lays him gently on the shore. The prince opens his eyes and . . .”

“He’s like Snow White. Her kiss wakes him up and they live happily ever after,” the girl says, sounding delighted.

“Yes exactly,” I agree. “She kisses him and he instantly falls madly in love with her and asks her to marry him.”

“Wait a minute,” Sam says. “She still can’t live on land, and he can’t live in the water, so how does that work?”

“It’s a magic island. As long as they live on the island the mermaid can walk on land and the prince can breathe in the water. I thought that was obvious.” I give Sam a look that says the story’s over and no more questions. “And they lived happily ever after.”

“If she did, I don’t remember it. What should we call her? What’s your favorite name?”

The girl thinks a moment, and then laughs. “Oh, you mean me. You want me to choose a name for myself.”

“You really do need a name.” I notice Sam’s hand is resting over hers. “Is there some name you particularly like? Maybe a name that feels like it belongs to you?”

I can practically see her running through a list of names and discarding them one after another. The haunted look returns to her eyes and she shakes her head.

“I can’t think of any name that feels like it belongs to me. They’re all just names. I guess any old name will do for the moment. Ellen? Barbara? Susan? Just pick something. I don’t care.”

I’d been thinking of names and was going to suggest Clio, Doris, or Melia, names of sea nymphs with venerable histories, but Sam blurts out, “Josephine, it’s sort of old fashioned, but it was my grandmother’s name and I’ve always liked it.”

“Josephine is a good name,” I concede, although I would have preferred something classical. “We could call you Josie, that’s kind of cute.”

“Yes, Josie or no, not Josie, how about Joanie? I like that one. It feels good.”

“OK, then. We’ll call you Joanie until you remember your real name.” Sam takes her hand and gives it a squeeze. “If that’s okay with you, Joanie.”

I sense the beginning of a romance and hope it’s for the best. Sam is on the rebound and the girl, Joanie, is recovering from exhaustion and whatever trauma she suffered out there on the water. It’s not really my concern, but I can’t help thinking that this could go badly if the girl suddenly remembers she’s married or something of that sort.

I fell in love with Bess the first time that I met her, but our love wasn’t blind. We were at university together and shared a lot of friends. We both knew what we were getting, but these two? Well, God protects fools and the very young. I can only pray He’ll look after them.

The food gives Joanie strength because when Sam offers to take her back to sickbay, she says she wants to go somewhere livelier where she can see people and not feel like such an invalid. So, after breakfast the two of them go off to one of the lounges and I return to my book.

When we meet for supper later in the evening Joanie is visibly improved and she and Sam make no effort to hide their growing attraction. By the next day Joanie feels well enough to sit by the pool sipping something pink garnished with maraschino cherries on a frilled toothpick, and by the day after that she’s been moved to her own cabin, outfitted I’m sure, with an Aqua Meridian wardrobe similar to mine.

How many days have I been aboard this ship? I’ve lost all sense of time, but I suspect Michael must have the police out searching for me by now. I’ll owe him an apology when I get back, but won’t he be amazed by his old dad? I imagine him telling an officer, “My father seems to have wandered off. The poor thing’s feeble and half blind. Treat him gently if you find him. He’s not playing with a full deck.” Well, he’ll sing a different tune once he sees how a little salt air and a good vacation have transformed me.

When I arrive in the dining room there’s no one at our table. Sam and Joanie usually arrive ahead of me, so I’m surprised to find myself alone. I flag down a waiter, order a dry martini, and sip it while keeping an eye on the door for my tardy friends. There’s no sign of Sam and the mermaid, but I blink my eyes in disbelief as Charles Dawson saunters through the door. The man looks in the peak of health without a sign of whatever ailment took him from the ship. I jump up and wave him to my table.

He smiles broadly and takes a seat beside me. I pat him on the shoulder. “Good to see you again. I was worried. They said you were taken off for a medical emergency.”

“Yes, heart problems I’m afraid.” He thumps his chest. “They rushed me to hospital, but I’m fine now. It all worked out for the best. The Aqua Meridian sent a driver to pick me up and then they bumped me to first class, isn’t that something?

“Yes, isn’t it? I got a call yesterday morning asking if I was ready to come back on board. I was at my daughter’s house by that time, so God knows how they found me, but I said, ‘Sure, that would be great.’ They sent someone around for me later in the day and here I am.”

“Beyond belief and not arrogant at all. I’ve already met the loveliest people. Too bad they won’t let me show you around.”

“Well, I’m happy for you and I’m glad to have you back. How about a game of bridge this evening? Are Jack and Harvey still around?”

Dawson shakes his head and chuckles. “I’m afraid not. They were being escorted off the ship just as I was boarding, and I can tell you they weren’t happy. Such language.” He emits a few tsks in mock disapproval.

“Oh yes, the porter gave me an earful. They got drunk and barged into the first-class dining room waving fistfuls of money around and demanding to be seated whatever it cost. When that didn’t work, they tried bribing the maître d who explained this is a cashless cruise, and you can’t pay for an upgrade once aboard. Instead of apologizing and backing down, they began shouting and hurling abuse at the other diners. ‘You’re all a bunch of arrogant assholes. We could buy and sell the lot of you,’ that sort of thing. So, the dining staff called security, security called the captain, and the captain pulled their tickets. I don’t know where they went next, but I know they’re no longer aboard.”

“Lucky he didn’t make them walk the plank.” I fish the olive out of my martini and pop it in my mouth. “Too bad though, now we’ll need two new players to make a foursome.”

“Well, if we can’t play bridge, maybe we can have that chat about your work in Crete.” He signals for the waiter. “I’d love your thoughts on the Sumerian influence on Minoan cuneiform.”

“Absolutely, that would be a pleasure. How about meeting in the library after dinner?”

I shake my head. “Sorry, but I’m waiting for two young friends who aren’t much interested in archaic languages. In fact, here they are now.”

Two ebullient young people practically skip through the door. Joanie has recovered her beauty as she’s grown stronger, and they make a handsome couple. Heads turn and smile as they make their way through the dining room toward our table.

“You’re late,” I admonish them, smiling. “What was more interesting than your supper?”

“Lots of things.” Sam is grinning, and Joanie is looking at him with an expression of open admiration. She’s wearing a black dress with a neckline that shows off her gold necklace. We still haven’t deciphered what it says, but she never takes it off. It shines brighter than usual this evening.

Sam is radiant. “The ship’s purser called me into his office this afternoon and offered me a job. You’re looking at the Aqua Meridian’s new chief medical officer.”

I’m surprised they’d offer the position to someone so young, but I smile and shake his hand. “Chief medical officer? That’s an impressive title. Congratulations.”

“He’s a member of crew now and gets an officer level cabin in first class with all sorts of perks.” Joanie is beaming. “They only had nurses in sickbay before, but they really need a doctor and they could see that Sam was perfect, so they offered him the job.”

“When do you start?” I ask. “There must be a lot to get in order before you sign on.”

“Yes, but they’re taking care of everything.” Sam shakes his head in amazement. “They supply uniforms and if I need any books or equipment, they’ll supply those too. I can’t believe my luck. I’m getting paid to live on a cruise ship.”

“That’s remarkable. I had no idea you were interested in a life at sea.” I give him my most encouraging smile, although I’m confused by this sudden turn of events.

“To be honest, I never thought about it, but when I was offered the job, it was like my whole life just fell into place. I realized that this is exactly what I want to do. It’s like being the head of a small hospital. I’ll be in charge of everything. It will never be dull or routine. There will always be new ports and new patients and I never have to cook. What could be better?”

“Won’t you miss your friends?” I’m concerned he’s making an impulsive decision he may regret, although I’ve never seen anyone so happy.

“There isn’t anyone to miss. My parents are gone, and I’ve never been close to other family. I know a few people at university and the hospital, but no one special, no one who’ll really miss me. There was Veronica, but you know how that turned out.”

Joanie takes his hand and kisses it. “I’m going to be his family now. We haven’t known each other long, but when something’s right you know it right away. I guess people do fall in love at first sight.”

“I guess so.” I hoped my smile doesn’t radiate the concern I’m feeling for them. “But . . .” I hesitate, not wanting to cast a shadow over their newfound joy. “Wouldn’t it be better to wait until you’ve recovered from the accident? There’s so much you don’t know about yourself.”

“Of course, it would be better, but it wouldn’t make a difference.” Joanie is unflappable. The same determination that kept her alive in the water is now focused on this new relationship. “Whoever I am, I’ll love this man.” She gives Sam’s hand an affectionate squeeze then turns to look me in the eye. “All the time I was in the water and for days afterward I felt weird. It wasn’t just the amnesia. It was like part of me was missing, literally missing. It was terrifying.”

“People hallucinate when they’re stressed and suffering sensory deprivation. The brain creates its own reality when there’s not enough external stimulation,” Sam explains.

“Maybe, but it felt real.” Joanie shudders. “I know I was scared and kind of half in and half out of my body. I can’t explain it. It was a nightmare. But then this guy showed up and things came back into focus, and I started to feel whole again. Is this making any sense?”

“It sounds like love. You may be made for each other, but I think Dear Abby would advise giving it more time.” I’m a complete hypocrite. I asked Bess to marry me on our third date. But would I have proposed if neither of us knew her name or where she was from? Probably, a rose is a rose is a rose. She would have still been Bess and I would have still been head over heels in love with her.

JOANIE HAS JUST been released from sickbay and issued a room of her own, however, from what I can see the cruise line is wasting its money since she’s effectively moved in with Sam. Officers’ quarters aren’t huge, but I understand they’re a big step up from a standard passenger cabin. It’s got sleeping quarters, a sitting room and a tiny kitchenette with a fridge, an electric kettle, and a microwave oven. It’s all very compact, but comfortable, just big enough for a pair of love birds. They want to invite me over to show it off, but of course they can’t. First class only on those upper decks, but Joanie is in high housekeeping mode. I hear she’s cozied up the place with a pot of yellow hibiscus and a floral tablecloth snagged from a recent luau. I expect she’ll be putting up chintz curtains and knitting doilies next. I wonder where she comes from. There must be people trying to find her, and yet the captain claims there hasn’t been a word. It doesn’t make sense. What would I have done, what wouldn’t I have done, if Michael had gone missing?

It’s sweet to see the two of them so happy, but we’re all ignoring a lot of unanswered questions that could swamp this little love boat. What happens if the ship just dumps her at the next port? I can’t believe they’d abandon her without a nickel or a name, but she’s over twenty-one, or is she? What’s the law is in a case like this? Who’s responsible for looking after her? Maybe I can take her home with me. She could sleep in the TV room until she gets things sorted out.

IT’S NINETIES NIGHT on the ship, which is odd since it’s only 1993. They’re serving dinner in the lounge this evening, so I head up to Seinfeld’s, previously known as Groucho’s, where a black vocalist is singing a pop song I’ve heard on the radio. It’s not loud and raucous like the music at the seventies party. It’s a love song and the black vocalist has a beautiful voice with a warm vibrato that warms my heart. I’d worried about not having anything appropriate to wear, but they’ve relaxed the dress code. There are women in cocktail dresses studded with rhinestones sitting next to youngsters with torn jeans and pierced noses who look like the hooligans I saw at Queens Quay. It’s like being back on shore, anything goes these days. The last time Michael took me to Bardi’s for my birthday, they were serving a hundred dollar a plate steak dinners and no one was wearing a jacket. It was all sweaters and jeans as though we were at McDonald’s.

Sam is wearing his new white officer’s uniform and looks quite dashing. He’s sitting in a corner with his arm around Joanie’s shoulders. The two of them are beaming like a pair of Cheshire cats. Dawson’s sitting beside them nursing a whiskey and looking utterly beatific. Something’s afoot.

“Better, we ordered champagne.” Sam is absolutely glowing, and I wonder if he’s about to announce an engagement.

“And what, may I ask, are we celebrating? It must be something spectacular from the look of things. Were you just awarded a Nobel in medicine?”

Before he can answer the waiter arrives with a chilled bottle of Tattinger. We wait while he makes a great show of presenting the bottle, “Compliments of the captain,” uncorking it, and pouring a taste for Sam’s approval. Once he’s taken his bows and departed, Sam lifts his glass. “To the Aqua Meridian, the kindest and most generous cruise line on the water.”

I lift my glass. “To the Aqua Meridian, for whatever it’s done to deserve this honor.”

“They’re going to let me stay on board while I figure things out. I have to share Sam’s cabin, but that’s what we want anyway, so it’s perfect. I love this ship.” Joanie takes a sip of the champagne and Sam and I follow suit.

So, I wasn’t far off, the lovebirds are going to share a nest. I look around and the entire room seems illuminated by the golden glow emanating from this young couple. As with most cruises, there aren’t that many young people aboard, so Sam and Joanie always elicit special smiles and attention. I take another sip of champagne and lean back, breathing a sigh of contentment. This unexpected trip has been a godsend and I feel utterly at peace.

“Well, it depends on your ticket. Tourist class passengers don’t usually stay as long as first-class, but we’ll be docking soon. We’re coming into port.”

The waiter returns with menus, and I open mine, hoping to find a good steak with all the trimmings only to discover that the print is blurred. I move the card back and forth trying to focus, blink and try again. It’s no use. I can’t read a thing.

“Is there something wrong with these menus? The print seems off,” I ask Sam.

“Damn, it’s me then. You’ll have to excuse me for a minute while I get my glasses.” As I stand my knees give way. I catch myself on the back of the chair, straighten up, and hope that no one’s noticed, but Sam looks at me concerned. “I guess I haven’t got my sea legs yet. Did we just hit a bump?” I try to deflect his anxiety with humor. “Go ahead and start without me. I’ll be back in a minute.” As I turn, wobbly on legs that don’t want to hold my weight, I notice the woman again, the one who looks like Bess. She’s staring at me from across the room. I take a step toward her and feel a pain in my hip, take another step, collapse against a table, and crash to the floor in an avalanche of cutlery and china and then the room goes black.

When I finally open my eyes, the world is a blur and I’m strapped to a stretcher carried by two burly porters. They transport me across the deck toward a gang plank that’s been lowered to the dock. A group of curious passengers huddles nearby, watching as we go. As they carry me from the ship a familiar face leans toward me. The porters don’t stop, but our eyes meet for one fleeting moment. I can’t turn to look back, but as they transfer me to a waiting ambulance I can hear her calling, “Jacob!”