At the Water's Edge Read Online Free

1,100 civilians on board.
    â€œWhere there’s a will, there’s a way,” said Hank, nodding sagely. He sipped the toddy again, then peered into it accusingly. “Hmmmm. Think I prefer whiskey after all. Back in a minute. Ellis, talk to your wife. Clearly she’s picking up bad habits.”
    He launched himself from his chair, and for a moment looked like he might topple over. He clutched the back of Ellis’s chair while he regained his balance and finally wafted off, drifting like a butterfly.
    Ellis and I sat in relative silence, within a bubble created by the chatter and laughter of other people.
    He slid slowly down in his chair until it must have looked empty from behind. His eyes were glassy, and he’d turned a bit gray.
    My own ears buzzed from the champagne. I lifted both hands to investigate my hair, and discovered the curls on one side had come undone and were clinging to my neck. Reaching further around, I realized that the diamond hair comb given to me by my mother-in-law was missing. I felt a stab of panic. It had been a gift on our wedding day, a rare moment of compassion shown me by a woman who had made no secret of not wanting me to marry her son, but was nonetheless moved to give it to me seconds before Hank walked me down the aisle.
    â€œI think we should do it,” Ellis said.
    â€œSure,” I said gaily. “We’ll just hop on the next—”
    â€œI mean it,” he said sharply.
    I looked up, startled by his tone. He was grinding his jaw. I wasn’t sure exactly when it had happened, but his mood had shifted. We were no longer playing a game.
    He looked at me in irritation. “What? Why shouldn’t we?”
    â€œBecause of the war,” I said gently.
    â€œCarpe diem, and all that crap. The war is part of the adventure.God knows I’m not getting near it any other way. Neither is Hank, for that matter.” He raked a hand through his hair, leaving a swath of it standing on end. He leaned in closer and narrowed his eyes. “You do know what they call us, don’t you?” he said. “ ‘FFers.’ ”
    He and Hank were the only 4Fers in the room. I wondered if someone had slighted him when he’d gone to find drinks.
    Hank took his flat-footedness in stride, as he did most things, but being given 4F status had devastated Ellis. His color blindness had gone undetected until he tried to enlist and was rejected. He’d tried a second time at a different location and was turned down again. Although it was clearly not his fault, he was right that people judged, and I knew how this chipped at him. It was relentless and unspoken, so he couldn’t even defend himself. His own father, a veteran of the Great War, had treated him with undisguised revulsion since hearing the news. This injustice was made all the more painful because we lived with my in-laws, who had perversely removed any chance at escape. Two days after the attack on Pearl Harbor, they cut Ellis’s allowance by two thirds. My mother-in-law broke it to us in the drawing room before dinner, announcing with smug satisfaction that she was sure we’d be pleased to know that until “this terrible business was over” the money would be going toward war bonds. Strictly speaking, that may have been where the money was going, but it was perfectly clear that the real motive was punishing Ellis. His mother was exacting revenge because he’d dared to marry me, and his father—well, we weren’t exactly sure. Either he didn’t believe that Ellis was color-blind, or he couldn’t forgive him for it. The nightmarish result was that we were forced to live under the constant scrutiny of people we’d come to think of as our captors.
    â€œYou know how hard it is,” he went on, “with everyone staring at me, wondering why I’m not serving.”
    â€œThey don’t stare—”
    â€œDon’t patronize