Good-byes are always so difficult, but the time has come to say a loving farewell to the best mother a boy every had. I’m so glad that you all could be with me to share this tender, albeit painful, moment.” The Commodore nodded to Gwendolyn and Fredericka who stepped forward and began to sing.
“My Mommy lies over the ocean . . .”
The Commodore turned and began to walk toward the railing, the silver chest in hand.
* * *
Alvirah held her breath as long as she could until, her lungs bursting, she had to come up for air. This water doesn’t feel tropical to me, she thought. The beard was choking her. With one hand she grabbed it, and even though it had been tightly knotted around her mouth, she managed to yank it down. Gasping and freezing, she looked over her shoulder. All they care about is getting away now, she thought thankfully. They haven’t got time to worry about me.
Though the ship was stopped, the current was moving it slightly forward. The distance to the bow seemed farther and farther away.
Her slacks and sandals felt as though they weighed a ton. She tried to kick off her sandals, but the effort was pulling her down. Just swim, she thought. Stay afloat and swim.
A wave washed over her face, causing her to sputter and swallow water. “Willy,” she tried to call. By now I’m sure he’s worried. But he won’t think to look over the railing for me.
Oh, Willy, if that dopey waiter hadn’t dribbled hot fudge all over you, you wouldn’t have been in the shower when I saw those guys.
Her arms were so heavy. The ship looks as though it’s moving forward. They say your life flashes before you when you’re drowning, but all I can think of is how that hot fudge stained Willy’s new blue shirt.
I love you, Willy.
One arm in front of the other, ever more slowly, she forced herself to keep moving.
* * *
It happened in an instant. As the Commodore was slowly walking past Crater’s wheelchair, Brevers came running down the deck.
“Don’t throw that box overboard!” he shouted. “It’s worth millions!”
Like a shot, Crater jumped out of his wheelchair.
* * *
I’m getting closer, Alvirah promised herself, I’m getting closer. Her arms felt like lead. It was getting harder and harder to pull air into her lungs. She was shivering from head to foot. She was almost at the bow, praying that there were people up there. She looked up and saw three men standing directly above her. “Help!” she tried to call, but her voice came out a croaking whisper.
And then, just as she thought they would spot her, the men hurried away from the railing.
* * *
The shock of hearing Brevers’s frantic outcry was followed by the equally astonishing sight of Crater wrestling the silver box from the Commodore’s arms.
The helicopter’s engine was suddenly turned on and its blades began to whir.
Regan and Jack sprang to their feet.
“This is preposterous,” the Commodore cried as Crater gained possession of his mother’s ashes and, like a football player making a forward pass, tossed the chest to one of his medics who caught it and turned to run for the helicopter.
Fredericka, annoyed that her singing had been interrupted, stuck out her foot. The medic tripped, crashed on the deck, and the box flew from his grasp. By then Regan, Jack, Luke, Willy, and the ten Santa Clauses were galvanized into action. A sea of red suits knocked Crater down and surrounded the fallen medic. The other two raced for the safety of the helicopter.
“Nice try,” Jack shouted as he and Ted tackled the two men.
As the melee ensued, the silver chest was, for the moment, unguarded on the deck. Winston ran over, scooped it up, and started for the helicopter. Gwendolyn, always in competition with her sister, and the fastest runner in her gym class, was right behind him. She dove for his legs and he, too, went sprawling. Grabbing the silver box as Winston released his grip on it, she ran to the rail and shouted, “This isn’t nice! The Commodore wanted his Mommy to go into the sea right here!!!” Curling her tongue, she lifted the chest over her head and determinedly threw it as far as she could over the side of the ship.
Regan raced over to the rail. “Oh, my God!” she screamed as she looked out and saw that the airborne box was headed not only for the ocean, but also for Alvirah’s head. “Watch out, Alvirah!” she shrieked, then looked around wildly. She spotted a round, white life preserver hanging on a hook nearby, grabbed it, climbed over the rail, and jumped.
“Regan!” Nora screamed.
“Grab that box!” Brevers cried. “It’s priceless!”
An exhausted Alvirah, who always knew the value of a dollar, reached out and with a mighty stretch of her arms caught the box as it hit the water. A moment later, Regan was pushing the life preserver in front of her. “Hang on to this, Alvirah,” she ordered.
Alvirah passed the silver chest to Regan, then wrapped her arms around the life preserver that read SANTA CRUISE in bold lettering.
“This is what I get for giving to charity,” Alvirah tried to joke, attempting to catch her breath. “I told you this trip would be exciting.” Her arms were so numb and cold she felt herself starting to slip. “I don’t know whether I can hold on—”
A strong arm encircled her waist. “I’ve got you, Alvirah,” Jack said.
“You two never let me down,” Alvirah breathed. “Is Willy all right?”
“He’ll be a lot better when we get you back on the ship,” Jack answered.
Alvirah felt faint. “One more thing,” she whispered urgently. “Bull’s-Eye and Highbridge are in a dinghy at the back of the ship, trying to get away. Eric is their accomplice.”
Relieved that she was in the safe hands of her good friends, and that justice would be served, Alvirah allowed herself to pass out.