Stowaway Read Online Free Page B

smiles politely to Rose and
me, then continues to answer their stupid questions with clipped sentences.
Finally, he shoves his instrument case between himself and the women in an
effort to get some sort of distance from them.
    He looks tired,
and I’ll bet he wishes he’d chosen a staff-only transport instead. They must
have that, because this is the first time I’ve seen a crew member hop on a
public elevator. He soon exits with his entourage, leaving me and Rose alone
again.
    When we reach
Rose’s floor, her room is the biggest within sight, with magnificent views of
the ship and ocean. A maid is just placing a mint chocolate on her pillow, and
then scampers out. At Rose’s insistence, I am quickly stretched out on a bed,
sipping iced tea and eating free room service. Thirty minutes later, the pain
pill is kicking in and my face has stopped throbbing. I caught it early, so I
think the pain will all just be a bad memory tomorrow.
    Soon, I feel
better and am up playing a game of checkers with Rose in the main living area.
Before I know it, it’s getting late and Rose is yawning. I feel bad keeping the
older lady up, so I excuse myself and thank her several times.
    “Meet me at the
spa tomorrow?” Rose asks as I am leaving.
    I agree, although
I know it’s an appointment I won’t be able to keep. I have no money for that
sort of thing. Even if I did, according to the brochure sitting on Rose’s table,
most of the paid onboard activities require a ship ID card to scan so they can
bill your room. They don’t accept direct cash transactions.
    I feel bad as I
bid her goodnight, but there is nothing I can do about my guilt. Why is it that one lie seems to just lead to another? I’m just
going to have to disappoint this nice woman and I feel awful about it.
    It’s quiet this
first night as I wander aimlessly around the promenade again. It is still
packed, but the crowds are thinning as passengers retire for the night after a
frenzied day of travel and settling in. By midnight, most of the people are
gone. I hear two men heading to the elevators talking about a moonlight madness
poker tournament at the casino just below and a karaoke contest a few levels
down at the retro lounge.
    I am still feeling
good from my poolside nap and the rest at Rose’s, but don’t feel like crowds.
So, I keep strolling the ship’s vast spaces until I think I will draw attention
by continuing to pace. I finally collapse at the library to settle in with my
book for a while.
    After a few hours,
my attention wanders to the window. I feel restless and just can’t concentrate
on the romance I’ve found. So, I part the heavy curtains a crack and peek out
for the umpteenth time. There’s nothing going on down below, but I like staring
out at the sleepy area from my dim, secluded room. It’s like the ship is all my
own for right now.
    The stores have
all pulled their protective metal grating down for the night, their keepers in
bed. The only things open that I can see from here is the one lonely bar I sat
at earlier and the gallery.   The new
bartender that is on shift snuck away with a fellow crew member more than a
half hour ago, and his post is still dark. Through the trees, I can see the
blue painting and wall of spatters lit up from here. They are both still ugly,
even from a distance.
    The gallery staff
is nowhere to be seen, which is odd. I’m sure the curator is off duty by now,
but I would think there would be some sort security person there, at least.
Maybe they are just on break or something. Since there is no one around, it’s
not like it is a big risk anyway.
    Suddenly, I see a
movement in the gallery’s shadows. At first, I think just the staff on duty
coming back. But, the person is dressed all wrong. The middle-aged man is
dressed head to toe in black ¾ even his gloves. How long
has he been there?
    He drops a black
case right next to Blue . Then, he removes the piece from its display,
but what he does with it is obscured by