Beside Still Waters Page 15

  “I know. Let’s sleep on it,” John said. “We can decide in the morning.”

  Torn between wanting to get away from people she knew and wanting to stay with John, Violet tossed and turned all night as she weighed the pros and cons of each possibility.

  She didn’t want to be separated from John. Besides, if she left now, she’d be cooped up on the steamship with a boatload of people heading south, and she wouldn’t have John to help her handle them. That choice left her breathless with anxiety.

  What if she stayed here with John? Then she’d have to face all of the people she knew, and her discomfort would be prolonged. Panic rose in her throat just thinking about it. Whichever option she settled on made her feel like she was suffocating.

  In the morning, John took one look at her. “You look like you didn’t sleep a wink.”

  “I didn’t,” she admitted. “I couldn’t decide what to do.”

  “Oh, dear, I’m so sorry.” He took her in his arms. “You know I’d be more than happy to have you stay with me.”

  “And I want to be with you, John. I really do, but I think your suggestion may be the best option. Going south now will probably cause me anxiety for the shortest length of time.”

  John tightened his hug and held her for a long moment. “Oh, Violet, my love.” His lips caressed the sensitive place behind her ear. “I’ll miss you so much, but it’ll be only a month or so before we’ll be together again.”

  After devotions that morning, she and John returned to the Yukon Belle to gather Violet’s things and take them back to the house. While John arranged for her train and coastal steamer tickets and sent a telegram to his folks in Seattle, Violet finalized her packing.

  Then she and John strolled to the cemetery to visit their daughter’s grave one more time. Even though the day was warm, the frost had killed the pansies, so she brought a bouquet of artificial flowers to replace them. They tidied up the site and laid the flowers at the foot of the white marker. With her hand held securely in John’s, Violet surveyed the area one last time, memorizing each detail of the setting.

  Finally, she touched her fingers to her lips and then to the marble pillar in a farewell kiss. “Goodbye, my darling girl! See you in the spring,” she whispered and turned sobbing into John’s arms.

  The next morning, before sailing on his trip downriver, John settled Violet on the train. “I can’t believe I’m letting you go.” His voice grew husky. “I miss you already.”

  When he kissed her goodbye, she clung to his neck. “I hope the time flies. I can’t wait to meet your steamer in October.”

  John gently pried her arms from around his neck, lowered her into her seat, and squeezed her hands. “God will watch over us while we are absent from one another, my love.”

  Violet nodded. She studied him as he walked with a resolute step back down the aisle. How she loved him! Before he disappeared down the stairs, he turned and tossed her a kiss. She leaned into the glass watching for him until he came to stand on the platform beneath her window. As the whistle shrilled and the brakes released in a hiss of steam, they kept their eyes fixed on each other, greedy for one more glimpse. They waved until they could no longer see each other as the train picked up speed and rounded the bend.

  A void settled over Violet’s heart as she sat back in her seat. Silent tears slid down her cheeks, and she began to count the days until they would meet again in Seattle.

  As the narrow-gauge train rolled toward Skagway, Violet stared out the window but scarcely saw the lakes and mountains that scrolled by. Lost in her memories of better times riding these rails with John, she tuned out everything around her.

  How loving, gentle, faithful, and true John had been from the moment they met. Her heart, which had been full of deadness, quickened a bit as she recalled the first time she saw him, all handsome in his captain’s hat and navy blue peacoat, his clear brown eyes twinkling when he smiled at her. How dear he was!

  The train pulled into Skagway late that afternoon. Violet didn’t contact Brother Paul and Dorothy. She wasn’t ready to sit through a church service or to face the well-meaning people at the mission. Instead, she walked resolutely to her room at the Golden North Hotel and went straight to bed, arising in time to board the steamship the next morning.

  The Princess May, the first ship she’d sailed on to Skagway, the one on which she’d met John, now carried her farther away from her beloved husband. Away from him, everything became clear. She should have stayed with John.

  As an employee of the complex Yukon transportation system that connected with the Canadian Pacific Railway coastal liners in Skagway, John had arranged for the steward of the Princess May to serve Violet’s meals in her stateroom. Upon boarding, she went directly to her cabin, coming out to walk the deck only in the late evenings and early mornings when the ship was still asleep.

  She spent her days sitting by the porthole of her tiny stateroom watching the craggy, snow-capped mountains and the sea with its ever present whales, porpoises, sea lions, and otters. Sometimes she tried to read or crochet. Often, she dozed. At night, she slept for a few hours and then paced the tiny space. When it felt too claustrophobic, she walked the empty passageways or wrapped her coat securely around her and stood by the rail to hear the gentle slap, slap of the waves that glistened white against the cold, dark sea.

  She worried about how John’s parents would receive her. Would they blame her for the death of their grandchild? They’d written a sweet letter of sympathy, but writing didn’t always convey one’s true feelings. She would soon know when they met her at the dock in Seattle.

  She needn’t have worried. They hugged her like a long-absent daughter. Dad Barston told her he’d already done some preliminary searches of the real estate ads in the Classifieds.

  “But there’s no rush, Violet,” Mother Barston added. “We want you to stay with us as long as you care to.”

  “Thank you, Mother. Just so I have everything ready for John’s arrival in late October.”

  They settled her in John’s room. “Unpack, rest, freshen up—whatever you need to do. Come down when you feel like it. Dinner will be ready at six.” And Mother Barston closed the bedroom door behind her.

  Violet unpacked what she would need while staying with her in-laws. Then she stretched out on the bed she and John shared whenever they stayed with his parents.

  A gentle tap at the door awakened her. A golden glow from the setting sun diffused throughout the room. A glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table showed six o’clock. She leaped up and smoothed her hair. She’d meant to change out of her traveling clothes before dinner, but now it was too late.

  “Coming,” she called.

  When she opened the door, Dad Barston greeted her. “Mother sent me to let you know that dinner is served.”

  “I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Violet said, smiling sheepishly.

  “Don’t worry about it, Daughter. I’m glad you were able to rest.” Dad Barston took her arm and escorted her down the open stairway, through the living room, and into the dining room. “I hope you’re hungry. Mother has prepared a feast.”

  “You didn’t need to go to so much trouble,” Violet said as Mother Barston bustled in carrying a platter of meat and placed it next to bowls of roasted potatoes, carrots and peas, and gravy in a boat. Individual green salads topped with fresh tomato and cucumber slices sat at each place. “I haven’t been eating much lately.”

  “I can tell, dear.” Mother Barston set another bowl on the table. “You’re much too thin.”

  Dad Barston prayed, thanking the Lord for the food and for Violet’s safe arrival, and added, “Please, Lord, bring John safely to us soon too. Amen.”

  “Tomatoes and cucumbers—what a treat! We don’t see these in the Yukon,” Violet said as she lifted a forkful to her mouth. “And I haven’t eaten roast beef since we left Seattle last spring.” Before she knew it, Violet had consumed a full meal and thoroughly enjoyed it for the first ti
me in a long while.

  After breakfast the next morning, Dad Barston offered to take Violet apartment hunting. They found a furnished, two-bedroom duplex only a few blocks from her in-laws’ house. Freshly painted, it was ready for Violet to move into immediately. She paid the deposit, along with the first month’s rent, and made arrangements for the electricity to be turned on.

  Dad Barston moved her trunks to her house that afternoon, but Violet didn’t have any cooking utensils and household supplies yet, so she stayed another night with John’s parents. The next day, she and Mother Barston rode the trolley downtown to shop. Dad Barston promised to pick them up when he got off work so they wouldn’t have to lug their purchases back on the trolley.

  When Violet was settled into her new home, the Barstons took her berry picking so she could make some of John’s favorite jams and syrups. She shopped for fresh fruit from the other side of the Cascade Mountains to can for winter enjoyment. Mother Barston gave her cucumbers from her vegetable garden to make a batch of pickles.

  With all of this activity, the time passed quickly. Soon, the long-awaited telegram arrived from John, dated October 23, 1918:

  DEPARTING SKAGWAY TONIGHT ON

  PRINCESS SOPHIA

  Only four more days, and they’d be together again.

  The morning of the 25th, Violet stepped out to pick up the newspaper from her doorstep. The bold headlines caught her attention:

  PRINCESS SOPHIA STRIKES VANDERBILT

  REEF IN BLINDING SNOWSTORM.

  Chapter 20

  VIOLET’S KNEES BUCKLED. WITH A cry, she fell to the doormat, clutching the paper. Vanderbilt Reef. She knew exactly where it was. John had pointed it out to her numerous times. “It needs a navigational light,” he’d said every time they sailed past it.

  Her heart thumping erratically, she scanned the front page article.

  Dateline October 24: A weak wireless distress signal was received in Juneau, Alaska, at 2:15 a.m. today, that the Princess Sophia struck ground hard on Vanderbilt Reef at 2:00 a.m., 54 miles south of Skagway. Sophia departed Skagway, Alaska, at 10:10 p.m. last night, more than three hours behind schedule. Four hours after leaving Skagway, while proceeding south down Lynn Canal, the Sophia encountered heavy, blinding snow driven by strong and rising northwest winds that drove her about 1.25 miles off course. The Juneau Canadian Pacific Railway (CPR) shipping agent is organizing a rescue flotilla in the sheltered harbor at nearby Sentinel Island Lighthouse to take the passengers off the grounded vessel.

  Tears blinded Violet’s vision, forcing her to stop reading. Dashing them away with the back of her hand, she scrambled to her feet and went back inside, slamming the door behind her. Why hadn’t someone installed a light at Vanderbilt Reef long ago?

  She ran to her bedroom and found a handkerchief to blow her nose and staunch her tears so she could read the rest of the story. Back in the living room, she picked up the paper and flung herself into a chair.

  Sophia was due to stop at Juneau, Wrangell, and Ketchikan, Alaska, and Prince Rupert and Alert Bay, British Columbia, arriving in Vancouver on the 27th. On board are 75 crew members and an estimated 268 passengers, including families of men serving overseas in the war, miners, and crews of Yukon sternwheelers that have finished operations for the winter. Fifty women and children are on the passenger list.

  “And my husband, John Barston. Oh, please, God, don’t take him too! Please let him be safe. And the other passengers too.”

  Two hundred sixty-eight. She doubled over as the horror of their situation overwhelmed her. “That’s nearly ten percent of the white population of the entire Yukon.” That realization further fueled her anger. Why was there no light at Vanderbilt Reef?

  She read on.

  Captain F. L. Locke, who has 27 years of service with the Canadian Pacific Steamship Company, says groundings are not uncommon in Alaskan waters. He reports that no one was injured when Sophia went aground, and no panic ensued. Everyone on board remains calm and confident that she will float off the reef on the next high tide expected this afternoon.

  High tide—yes! Memories of John’s description of the grounding of the Princess May on Sentinel Island in 1910 and how everyone got off safely and the ship floated off the rocks at high tide triggered a glimmer of hope—until she read the next paragraph of the newspaper article and envisioned the setting of Vanderbilt Reef miles from land.

  Vanderbilt Reef, the peak of an underwater mountain, rises 1,000 feet from the bottom of Lynn Canal. At high tide, the reef might be awash or almost invisible under swells. At low tide, it’s a low table in the middle of a channel about 6.5 miles wide. The main navigational channel narrows to about 2.5 miles on the east side of the reef, which is marked by a buoy. The area’s deep waters, strong currents, rocky cliff faces, narrow fjords, and strong tides bring ships dangerously close to shore. In bad weather, winds in Lynn Canal can quickly become gales. At night, in a blinding snowstorm, the reef would be totally invisible.

  By the time she finished reading the article, John’s parents rushed in. “We tried to get here before you read the news,” Dad Barston said.

  Mother enfolded Violet in her arms. “It hasn’t sunk,” she whispered. “They’re sending boats to take the passengers off.”

  Violet knew her in-laws were trying to convince themselves as much as comfort her. John was their only child. “Every time we sailed Lynn Canal, John wondered why there was no navigational light on that reef.” Violet’s anger tinged her tone.

  Could they actually unload all of those passengers in gale-force winds? She felt so helpless. All she and John’s parents could do was wait, and she wasn’t very good at that. She leaped to her feet and began to pace the living room.

  “Violet, why don’t you come and stay with us until we get word?” Dad said. “We need to be together.” He looked to his wife for support. “Don’t you think so, Mother?”

  “Yes, Violet, he’s right. You shouldn’t be alone. Together, we can help keep each other’s spirits up.” She stood. “Let me help you gather some things for a few nights.”

  Violet’s natural inclination was to stay in her own home where she could cry when she wanted to, eat or not, and sleep when she could. But her in-laws needed her, so she allowed Mother to help her pack an overnight bag. Then they all climbed into Dad’s Model T sedan for the short drive to their house.

  After settling into John’s old room, Violet and his parents sat silently in the living room, staring at nothing, each lost in their own thoughts. Violet reviewed the three years of their marriage. Until Elizabeth’s death, they had been very happy.

  When she could stand it no longer, Violet jumped up. “Just sitting here is killing me. I have to do something. I’m going for a walk.”

  “Where will you go, dear?” Mother asked.

  “I don’t know. No place in particular—just around the block.”

  As she walked, she allowed her tears to flow. The fall breeze dried the rivulets, making her cheeks feel stiff. “Oh, John, are you all right?” she cried aloud. “Are you as afraid as I am? If only I’d stayed with you instead of coming south.”

  Then she’d be with him on that ship.

  That stopped her short. As she mulled it over, though, she wondered what point there would be to living, anyway, if he drowned. It would be better to die together.

  Back at the house, Violet looked around. “I need to keep busy. Any housework you need done? Like scrubbing floors? Or cleaning out cupboards?” At the strange look on Mother’s face, she was quick to add, “Not that they need it! Just give me something to do—or I’ll go mad.”

  “You’re right.” Mother led the way to the kitchen. “I’ve been meaning to clean out the back porch before winter. With you here to help, now’s as good a time as ever. I can’t concentrate on anything either.”

  Dad joined them. “I’ll clean out the shed.”

  Before they knew it, several hours had passed. The work was done, and it was time to fix dinner. They
only picked at their food in silence.

  “If only we still had our radio receiver, we could get the news faster,” Dad said.

  “What happened to it?” Violet asked.

  “You weren’t here when the United States entered the war and the government seized everyone’s radio. Radio use is now restricted to the war effort only.”

  The next day, October 25, the newspaper shed a little more light on the crisis in Lynn Canal.

  Princess Sophia did not float free at high tide as hoped, but officials remain optimistic that passengers can be taken off at the next high tide. Numerous rescue vessels, with sufficient capacity to carry all passengers and crew from Sophia, are now standing by. Although contacting the Sophia has become increasingly difficult due to the weather, if the situation deteriorates, the many boats at the scene will take care of all those aboard the Sophia.

  Another long day of praying and hoping and waiting ensued.

  The next day, when Dad brought in the newspaper from the front steps, Violet saw the blood drain from his face. Ice-cold fear sluiced down her spine. He couldn’t speak but simply held up the front page. The headlines screamed,

  PRINCESS SOPHIA SINKS WITH ALL ON BOARD

  Violet’s world suddenly gave way—as though she had been walking on a wooden bridge, and the plank she’d stepped on had torn away under her feet. Arms flailing, grabbing at something to support her, she plunged down, down, down until she submerged underwater. Drowning, she gasped for breath but couldn’t suck air. Then everything went black . . .

  Voices faded in and out as someone lifted her in strong arms and carried her upstairs to John’s bed. Was it John? No, John was gone. Terrible pain clutched her heart. “Why, oh, why?” But no one could give her a reason. The merciful darkness fell again . . .

  Fire licked at her flesh. She tried to free herself from the flames, but a tangle of covers held her fast. She thrashed about but couldn’t loosen them. “Too hot! Please help me!” she cried out, but her strangled words emerged as a whimper.