OCR Text |
Show 178 we are mostly quiet. Now and then one of us smiles at the other, another confidence or another promise. We are on course. Ahead I hear laughter and I know we are getting close. But the laughter has come from behind a closed door and does not repeat itself-so we continue down the corridor and, at its end, take the last steep ladder down. Below us a rat hurries in our direction, then spins around and rushes away. Elisa sees it and points. There is so much free grain in the holds that they cannot be controlled, I explain. I know them, she says. Rats don't frighten me. At the bottom of the ladder we hear phonograph music, loud voices, singing. Several cabin doors are open, moving slowly back and forth on their big hinges. Will you take care of me, she says in a voice that means she will take care of herself, using the words as an excuse to hold onto me a little tighter, to rest her head against my shoulder. Of course, I say. And I kiss her hair. I am convinced we are on the edge of a storm. I know there is no reason for alarm; the Aurelia is old but solidly built. It is big. There is no danger of it breaking up. But down here, so near the bottom, its pipes are leaking. It is dim in this bottom corridor, only half the hall lamps are |