In Love With Freedom

There was a strange rhythmic knock on the door. Catherine froze. Anna laughed, “Don’t go hide. Here, wrap the towel around yourself. Come in Nicky. Our knock is two quick raps, three times.” “Anything else I should know?” Catherine’s shoulders drooped as she relaxed from the fright. Nicky nodded his head. “I must show you your hiding place in the light of day, before Vladi and Christina return. Put Anna’s overcoat and scarf on and grab the broom. Should they arrive from a distance they will think Anna and I are doing chores.” Once up on the deck in the morning’s bright daylight, Catherine gathered in more details of the oil barge. It gave her a feel for the vessel and not a good one. The tow barge was not pretty. There were cabins at each end for crew, and to house the engines that propelled the oil carrier. The cabins had not been painted in a long time, although it could be seen that at one time they had been proudly maintained. The siding was a blistered and flaking white paint, the trim around the doors and windows was a faded green, the fascia and baseboards were red. It was the colors of the company that once owned the barges. Now the property of the state the pride of ownership no longer existed. The cargo barges themselves were rust buckets with oxidized surfaces intermixed with battleship grey and smeared with the residue of their black oil cargo. Nicky gestured with an outstretched arm pointing to the opposite end. “We have no true stern or bow. Either end of the vessel is the same. As captain, I take the lead as I trust my navigation skills. It’s hell if you run aground. We have the eight segments attached. Our freight -- oil -- is very heavy. Our engines strain under a full load -- which we have now. Other tow barges with lighter loads or bigger engines might be twice as long. The crews use bikes to go back and forth. “Vladi and I and our wives are a team. We work together and go back and forth. Our wives have chores as well. In the evenings and at lunch we often eat together -- sometimes we will play cards at night. As you can see everything is wide open and in plain sight which is why you must stay concealed.” “Then why are we out here?” Catherine interrupted. “Where could I possibly hide?” “Sweep around the deck here, and I’ll show you.” Nicky said as he leaned over the tanks with a large wrench about the length of his arm. With several deft cranks, four bolts were removed on the rusty cover plate to the ballast holding tank. “Each of the cabin quarters is separated from the oil by two buffer tanks -- here and here.” Nicky pointed to the parallel tanks running across the width of the deck. “They are about four feet wide. They hold the ballast water to keep the barges on an even keel as the loads are taken off. They also keep the fumes away -- sort of -- and are a safety spacing between the crew and our dangerous freight. We are given wide berth by other vessels and our slimy, smelly, decks reduce our number of inspections. Some find the smell noxious.” Nodding in agreement Catherine added with sarcasm, “I’ve of late been finding comfort from the aroma of my sheepskin.” Deftly Nicky removed the section he had unbolted. It was a two foot square section with a hand hold bar. As Nicky set it down the solid iron cover clanged heavily on the barge deck. “This is how we go inside to service…for cleaning and repairs. They’re empty now -- come fit yourself inside.” A dubious Catherine looked at Nicky and the hole -- then back to Nicky. It was an iron tomb! Nicky saw her reluctance and slipped himself ahead of her into the pitch black hole that was to conceal Catherine. “Come, I’ll help you.” Catherine had barely survived the cubby hole the night before. Her claustrophobia paralyzed her. Trying to be encouraging as he looked back and saw her hesitation, Nicky said with confidence, “Nobody has ever been discovered here.” He could have added nobody had ever tried before also. Closing her eyes Catherine’s mouth felt like cotton, but she steeled herself. If this was the path to freedom -- like the rocky path the night before -- she would do whatever it would take. Sitting on the edge of the tank opening Catherine’s thoughts flashed to the first orphanage. She would climb out the windows, walk a narrow ledge to a downspout and slide down to the freedom of the woods. Well, this would just have to be another similar adventure. Lowering herself, she grimaced while trying to ignore the pain and tenderness of her ankle. Using the huge wrench as a pointer Nicky motioned across the upper portion of the tank. “There is a platform welded to the side of the tank. I have an old sofa back resting on it to keep you off the metal. Try it…this will be your safe haven.” Painfully Catherine lifted her injured left foot up and balanced on her good right foot. Then she stretched her torso out like a ballerina doing a pirouette -- an old ballerina. She rolled up onto the platform and lay still for a minute. The sofa back was very lumpy and smelled of mildew, but it was likely a great alternative to the cold, hard, metal platform. The curved top of the tank was only inches above her face. Once she was settled Nicky explained the worse part. “Catherine…this tank will be filled with water. When inspectors come aboard they tap these tanks with metal rods. If they sound full, the inspectors continue on their way. If they echo and are empty -- they will open the tank to inspect it for contraband. When you get in, we’ll fill it with water up to the platform. After the inspection is over -- we empty the tank and you return to the cubbyhole -- at night of course so Vladi and Christina won’t see you. There will be no problems.”