Commodore Weed was holding court at his table recounting the story of how he had decided to change his life by refurbishing the Royal Mermaid and spending the rest of his days sailing around the globe. “My love for the sea began when I received a plastic boat at age five. I had my little life vest on and my father pulled me around the lake near our house. . . .”
Eric and Dr. Gephardt had heard this story at least a hundred times. They were required to sit at the Commodore’s table each evening and be charming to the rotating guests. Tonight the Jaspers, an elderly couple who’d bid on the cruise at a fundraiser for Save the Amphibians, and the Snyders, a middle-aged couple from the Readers and Writers group, had the privilege of dining with the ship’s officers.
Eric was desperate to get away, frantically wondering what course of action his two felons had taken after being discovered in the chapel. Why did Bull’s-Eye take off his Santa outfit, and what was he doing jumping up and down? Had he gone crazy? Had the Reillys and Meehans gone up to the chapel with that screaming dingbat? He’d seen them leave the dining room together. Bull’s-Eye and Highbridge couldn’t have been stupid enough to stay in the chapel. Or could they?
Eric was furious that Dudley had managed to escape from the table when Ivy Pickering went nuts.
Dr. Gephardt had circulated at the cocktail party before going up to check on Harry Crater. Crater must have given a lot of money to charity, Gephardt thought, for the Commodore to have risked having someone on board who was so sick. He glanced over at the table where he knew Crater was sitting and saw the old man getting out of his chair. The children on either side of Crater jumped up eagerly.
Crater was about to go out of his mind. The kids had driven him crazy all during dinner and their parents’ conversation was mind-numbing. At least the outburst from that woman had provided a much-needed jolt to his system.
“Mr. Crater, I must get a picture of you with the girls,” Eldona insisted. “We’ll make a scrapbook of the cruise and send it to you. We’ll have to get your address. Please sit back down.”
Crater begrudgingly agreed and began his descent. Eldona’s eyes widened in horror as she realized Gwendolyn had pulled Crater’s chair away from the table, just as she had been taught in the Assisting Senior Citizens etiquette class. Eldona watched as the expression on Crater’s face turned to bewilderment and then panic when he realized there was no chair to catch him. A loud thump sounded as Crater disappeared below the table.
Gasps from surrounding diners interrupted the Commodore’s tale of the happy years he had spent at sailing camp on Cape Cod.
Cursing under his breath, sprawled flat on his back, and momentarily shocked, Crater knew that he’d thrown out his back again. Fredericka leaned over, having dunked her napkin in her water glass, and began wiping his face. “There, there,” she cooed. “It was Mommy’s fault. Ewww, what’s this gray stuff on your face?”
Crater grabbed the napkin from her hand. “My medicine causes that,” he growled. “Get your hands off me.”
By now Dr. Gephardt was squatting beside him, thrilled that he had a reason to flee the Commodore’s table. Gephardt held up a finger. “Mr. Crater can you see my finger?”
Crater slapped the doctor’s hand away and attempted to get up. But the pain in his back made it impossible to move.
Gephardt frowned. “We’re getting a stretcher. We can’t take any chances with a man in your condition. What exactly is wrong with you?”
“At the moment, everything!”
“Can you move your legs?”
“I have a bad back. I twisted it. It’s happened before. I’ll be fine. Just help me up.”
Gephardt shook his head solemnly. “No, no. That was a hard fall, and we can’t be sure that you haven’t injured yourself seriously. As a trained medical practitioner, I insist that you spend the night in the infirmary. If necessary, we will summon your helicopter.”
“No!” Crater exploded as he pushed himself on one elbow, wincing as he felt the old familiar spasms in his back send shooting pain throughout his body. “I don’t want to leave this Santa Cruise. I earned this trip by giving loads of money to charity.”
Fredericka and Gwendolyn jumped up and down, clapping their hands. “Yayyyyyyyyyy. We’ll visit you in the ship’s hospital.”
Two infirmary attendants arrived with a stretcher. Crater felt himself being carefully lifted onto it and then felt straps being tied around his arms to secure him to it. As they started to carry him out of the dining room, he heard the doctor say to one of the medics, “I have the number of his helicopter. Perhaps I should call and warn them that they might have to come pick up Mr. Crater at any time.”