Long Voyage Back Read Free

through to New York Neil was glad to hear Frank'
    s husky voice.
    `This stupid war stuff is screwing up everything,' Frank announced loudly. 'I can't get a flight to Washington; they're booked solid. You think you could meet me today in Crisfield? I can get a flight to Salisbury, Maryland, and then rent a car.'
    Crisfield, Neil, knew, was a small fishing town about twenty-five miles across the bay from Point Lookout.
    `Sure,' he replied. 'That's as easy as Point Lookout. What about the Foresters?'
    `We'll sail Vagabond across the bay and pick them up as soon as you get me. What time you figure you'll make it to Crisfield?'
    Ìf the wind holds or improves we'll be there by six tonight. But if it drops or we're headed . .
    `Well, do your best,' Frank said into the pause. 'I know you must be beat. Vagabond's a lot of boat for just two men, especially when one of them's a goof-off.'
    `Your son's a good sailor,' Neil commented quickly. `Yeah?' Frank replied, seeming surprised at the news. Ìn that blow off St Augustine,' Neil went on, 'Jim went up the mast when the mainsail jammed. He also took the
    helm for almost four hours, letting me sleep through half my watch.'
    Àt home I can't get him to do five straight minutes of any kind of work, much less four hours.'
    `Neil!' Jim's voice broke into the conversation from the deck just outside the cabin hatchway. 'I've got to talk to Dad. There's going to be a war!'
    `What are you talking about?' Neil asked, looking up at Jim. Ì just heard the news,' Jim went on. 'We rejected the Russian offer. Let me speak to Dad.'
    Ùh, Frank, Jim wants to talk to you,' Neil said. 'We'll meet you tonight in Crisfield unless we're becalmed. If we are, I'll try to get a message through to Carter's Bluewater Marina. Got it?'
    `What? Sure. Good.'
    Neil hopped up the cabin steps and hurried to the wheel as Jim took over the radiophone'
    s mike.
    `Holy Jesus, Dad,' Jim said. 'We're going to be fighting the Russians. There's going to be a war!'
    For a moment there was silence on the other end, then Frank's voice replied slowly and huskily. 'Don't worry about it, Jimmy,' he said. 'This is just another scare. Just like three months ago. Just like two years ago. This is international poker and the secret is never to call, just keep raising.'
    `The radio said we rejected their offer of mutual troop withdrawals,' Jim went on. 'Why?'
    Ìf we withdraw any troops now,' said Frank, his husky voice again coming in only after a pause, 'we'd be seen as giving in. Our President may be a jerk, but he's a macho jerk, so we can be sure that now that our troops are in Arabia they're going to stay, even if no one's around to kill.'
    `Dad, we ought to take the boat back south,' said Jim, gripping the mike in both hands. '
    When the war starts—'
    `Now cut that crap,' Frank interrupted with abrupt
    annoyance. 'This is just another game of international brinkmanship and neither their assholes nor our assholes are stupid enough to go to war. The Russians don't really care about Saudi Arabian nomads and we don't really care about Asian democracy.'
    `But we care about oil!'
    `Not enough to blow up the world,' said Frank. 'Now give me Neil. No, don't bother. Just hang up and get your ass up to Crisfield.' The line went dead. Jim stood alone in the aft cabin. He was angry. He hated the way his father dealt with him. Since he'd been only an average student and never held a job, his father had always made him feel he was something of a good-for-nothing. He enjoyed rock music, playing his guitar, getting high with his friends and partying, and making it with Celia or an occasional other girl. None of these qualified in Frank's eyes as anything but being a waste of time. The three or four occasions he'd sailed with Frank on Vagabond there'd been a lot of older people aboard who'd helped Frank handle the boat. Jim had ended up retreating to his cabin to get stoned and listen to music. His father had inevitably come to shout at him to