Tess Gerritsen - Harvest

HARVEST

had opened that door and found it led to a stairwell shaft. Wonderland.

The shaft soared three levels. A circular staircase spiralled up and up, and leading off the second level was a flimsy steel walkway that clattered and shook if you jumped up and down on it. The blue door leading aft from the walkway was always kept locked. Yakov had stopped even bothering to try it.

They climbed up to the top level. There, with the floor a dizzying drop below them, it was easy to scare Aleksei with a few noisy jumps.

"Stop it!" Aleksei cried. "You're making it move!"

"That's the ride. The Wonderland ride. Don't you like it?"

"I don't want to take a ride!"

"You never want to do anything."Yakov would have kept jumping up and down, shaking the walkway, but Aleksei was on the verge of hysteria. He had one hand clenched around the railing, the other hugging Shu-Shu.

"I want to go back down," Aleksei whimpered.

"Oh, all right."

They went down the staircase, setting off lovely clatters. At the bottom they played for a while under the bottom steps. Aleksei found some old rope and tied one end to the lowest walkway railing. He used it to swing back and forth like the ape man. It was only a foot off the ground; not very exciting.

Then Yakov showed him the empty crate, the one he'd found shoved into a nook under the stairs. They crawled inside. There they lay in darkness among the wood shavings and listened to the engines rumble in Hell. The sea felt very close here, a great, dark cradle that rocked the hull of the ship.

"This is my secret place," saidYakov. "You can't tell anyone about it. Swear to me you won't tell."

"Why should I? It's a disgusting place. It's cold and wet. And I bet there are mice in here somewhere. We're probably lying right now in mouse shit."

"There's no mouse shit in here."

"How do you know?You can't see anything."

"If you don't like it, you can get out. Go on."Yakov gave him a kick through the wood shavings. Stupid Aleksei. He should have known better than to bring him here. Anyone who carried a filthy stuffed dog everywhere could not be expected to enjoy adventures. "Go on!You're no fun anyway."

"I don't know the way back."

"You think I'm going to show you?"

"You brought me here. You have to bring me back."

"Well I'm not going to."

"You bring me back or I tell everyone about your stupid secret place. Disgusting place, full of mouse shit." Aleksei was climbing out of the crate now, kicking up shavings in Yakov's face. "Bring me back now or-'

"Shut up," saidYakov. He grabbed Aleksei by the shirt and yanked him backwards. Both boys tumbled together into the shavings. "You asshole," said Aleksei. "Listen. Listen.t' "What?"

Somewhere above, a door squealed and clanged shut. The walkway was rattling now, the sound of every footstep shattering to a thousand echoes in the stairway shaft.

Yakov crawled to the opening and peered out of the crate, at the walkway above. Someone was knocking at the blue door. A moment later the door opened, and he caught a glimpse of blonde hair as the woman vanished inside. The door closed behind her. Yakov retreated back into the crate. "It's just Nadiya."

"Is she still out there?"

"No, she went in the blue door."

"What's in there?"

"I don't know."

"I thought you were the great explorer."

"And you're the great asshole."Yakov gave another kick, but only succeeded in tossing up a puff of shavings. "It's always locked.

Someone's living in there."

"How do you know?"

"Because Nadiya knocked, and they let her in."

Aleksei retreated deeper into the crate, having changed his mind about venturing out quite yet. He whispered: "It's the quail people."

Yakov thought of the tray with the wine bottle and the two glasses, the onions sizzling in butter, the six tiny birds blanketed in gravy. His stomach suddenly gave a rumble.

"Listen to this," saidYakov. "I can make really sick noises with my stomach." He sucked in and thrust out his belly. Anyone else would have been impressed by the symphony of gurgles.

Aleksei just said, "That's disgusting."

"Everything's disgusting to you. What's wrong with you, anyway?"

"I don't like disgusting things."

"You used to like them."

"Well, I don't any more."

"It's because of that Nadiya. She' s turned you all soft and gooey.

You're sweet on her."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not!" Aleksei threw a handful of shavings, catching Yakov full in the face. Suddenly both boys were grappling, rolling against one side of the crate, then the other, cursing, kicking. There was not much room to move, so they could not really hurt each other. Then Aleksei lost Shu-Shu somewhere in the shavings and began scrabbling around in the darkness, searching for his dog. Yakov was tired of fighting anyway.

So they both stopped.

For a while they rested side by side, Aleksei clutching ShmShu, Yakov trying to coax new and more repulsive sounds from his stomach. Soon he tired of even that. They lay immobilized by boredom, by the sleep-inducing rumble of the engines, and by the sway of the sea.

Aleksei said, "I'm not sweet on her."

"I don't care if you are."

"But the other boys like her. Haven't you noticed how they talk about her?" Aleksei paused. And added: "I like the way she smells.

Women smell different. They smell soft."

"Soft doesn't make a smell."

"Yes it does. You smell a woman like that, and you know, when you touch her, she'll be soft. You just know it." Aleksei stroked ShuShu. Yakov could hear his hand skimming the tattered fabric. "My mother smelled that way," said Aleksei.

Yakov remembered his dream. The woman, the smile. The wisp of blonde hair tracing across a cheek. Yes, Aleksei was right. In his dream, his mother had indeed worn the scent of softness.

"It sounds stupid," said Aleksei. "But I remember that. Some things I still remember about her."

Yakov stretched, and his feet touched the other end of the crate. Have I grown? he wondered. If only. If only I could grow big enough to kick my feet right through that wall.

"Don't you ever think about your mother?" asked Aleksei. "No."

"You wouldn't remember her anyway."

"I remember she was a beauty. She had green eyes."

"How would you know? Uncle Misha says you were a baby when she left."

"I was four. That's not a baby."

"I was six when my mother left and I hardly remember anything."

"I'm telling you, she had green eyes."

"So she had green eyes. So what?"

The clang of a door made them both fall silent. Yakov squirmed over to the crate opening and looked up. It was Nadiya again. She'd just come out of the blue door and was crossing the walkway. She vanished through the forward hatch.

"I don't like her," saidYakov.

"I do. I wish she was my mother."

"She doesn't even like children."

"She told Uncle Misha she dedicates her life to us."

"You believe that?"

"Why would she say it if it isn't true?"

Yakov tried to think of an answer, but could not come up with one. Even if he had, it would make no difference to Aleksei. Stupid Aleksei. Stupid everyone. Nadiya had them all fooled. Eleven boys, and each and every one of them was in love with her. They fought to sit beside her at supper. They watched her, studied her, sniffed at her like puppies. At night, in their bunks, they whispered about Nadiya this and Nadiya that. What foods she preferred, what she'd eaten at lunch. They speculated about everything from how old she was to what undergarments she wore under her grey skirts. They discussed whether or not Gregor, whom everyone despised, was her lover, and unanimously decided he was not. They pooled their knowledge about feminine anatomy, the older boys explaining, in lurid detail, the function of tampons and how and where they are inserted, thus transforming forever the way the younger boys would view women — as creatures with dark and mysterious holes. This only increased their fascination with Nadiya.