Mary Nazarov’s heart pounded in her chest so loudly she was sure someone
would hear it. Her diminutive stature and dark attire aided her in the
mission to board the ship undetected. She wanted to look for Stephan,
but her priority was to find a suitable place to hide. She was exhausted from
having walked the ten miles to the boat, and she needed to rest for awhile.
Hunger pangs made her wish she had eaten more of her supper at home.
Home—Mary could never go home again. She would make a new home
in America with Stephan.
Mary laboriously made her way around the ship, back flattened against the
perimeter, freezing motionless at the slightest noise. She hadn't seen a
soul. She lost all track of time, and had no idea how long much time remained
before daybreak. Mary found herself descending. Somehow, she had made her
way into the belly of the ship. She couldn’t see a thing in the inky
blackness, but could tell that she was now walking through a chain of
narrow tunnels. A putrid stench assailed her nostrils, and Mary shuddered.
I’m in the bowels of the ship, she thought ruefully.
Mary reversed her direction, attempting to make her way back from where
she came. She needed to find a place to rest. Despite her discomfort,
Mary was falling asleep standing up. Of a sudden, she realized the ship
was moving! They were on their way to America, she and Stephan,
Mary thought joyfully. She never doubted for a moment that Stephan
was hiding somewhere on board. She sank to a squat, her arms on her
knees, her back pressed against the wall. She rested her head on her arms
and slept.
.Her respite was short-lived; Mary’s nausea awakened her. She grabbed
her handkerchief from her pocket in time to spill her guts into it. When
there was nothing more, she retched and heaved until she was sweating
and sore. Her seasickness incapacitated her for hours, weakened her
until she could scarcely stand. Stephan; she had to find Stephan.
Her head pounded, her insides felt hollow and she was dehydrated.
She felt as if she would surely die there, alone and suffering. Mary started
to cry. Ashamed at her weakness, for awhile she allowed herself the luxury.
Mary was disoriented. She was uncertain which passage she should travel,
if she had searched there before, or even how long she had been on board.
She was barely standing upright as she sidestepped at a snail’s pace. She
had to find Stephan soon, or it would be too late.
In the darkness, she felt a difference in the surface. It seemed to be a
doorway. Yes, it moved ever so slightly. Mary was weak and desperate
enough to chance quietly peeking into the narrow crack. It seemed to be
a small storage room of some kind, with enough light that she could
see a bit. As her eyes scanned the room, she thought she was
hallucinating. She recognized Stephan’s coat! There he was,
asleep on the floor in the far corner. Mary staggered into the room.
“Stephan Voloshin!” she croaked.
Stephan jumped to his feet in a flash. He rubbed his eyes as Mary
weakly walked toward him. Stephan Voloshin caught Mary Nazarov
as she collapsed in his arms.
