Free The White Knight by Gilbert Morris Page A

Luke.” That had been one of the last things she had said to him. He stood alone on the ship in the middle of the ocean, watching the vast spaces. Looking up at the stars, he tried to pray but found he could not. There was still bitterness in his heart against the Germans, and he feared it would destroy him.
    What will I do with myself? he wondered as he turned in the direction of America. How can I live without Melosa?



CHAPTER SEVEN
    New Beginnings
    Looking down at his plate, Streak poked at the pale contents and then glanced up at Luke. “What do you suppose this stuff is? It doesn’t look like anything I ever ate.”
    â€œI have no idea,” Luke said with a shrug. “After being on this ship for more than a week, you should know better than to ask.”
    â€œI’ll be glad to get back to good old American cooking, believe you me!”
    â€œSo will I.”
    Shoving his plate back, Streak took out a bag of tobacco and a paper from his pocket and constructed a cigarette. He licked the edge and tightened the two ends before sticking it in his mouth and lighting it with a match. “I thought Spain was pretty bad, but La Vaca is worse.” He drew on the cigarette and watched the smoke curl upward. “Hey, what do you suppose the name of this boat means, anyway?”
    â€œLa Vaca? You don’t know?”
    â€œNope. Never thought to ask.”
    â€œIt means ‘the cow.’ ”
    A grin spread across Streak’s face. “Well, it’s got the right name, I guess. It wallows like a cow every time the waves get higher than six inches. It smells like a cow barn, and the food tastes like something you might feed to a cow.”
    Luke shrugged and tried to put a little more of the gray mass down, but it was too much for him. He pulled an appleout of his pocket, cut it in two, and handed half to his companion.
    Streak’s eyes widened. “Where’d you get an apple on La Vaca?”
    â€œI stole it when the cook wasn’t looking.”
    Streak took a bite of the apple. “Not bad. You ever eat an apple in Washington State?”
    â€œNever been there.”
    â€œBest apples in the world. I wish I had a bushel of them. And a good watermelon.”
    â€œNot likely to get one of those here either.”
    â€œI reckon not.”
    The mess hall, where the two men were seated, was grim, depressing, and unsanitary, like all the other parts of the ship. It smelled of old grease, cabbage, and other unmentionable items. Both Luke and Garrison had lost weight on the journey back to the States. The boat was transporting fruit from the Mediterranean, and black flies formed a cloud over the cargo. Nothing seemed to disperse them, and both men spent a great deal of time slapping at themselves and brushing the pesky insects away.
    Their cabin was like a coffin, only big enough for a narrow bunk bed and no bathing facilities. There were no portholes, so when the door was shut it was like being buried alive. When they had come aboard they had found the sheets and blankets on the bunk were so filthy neither man would use them before washing them out in seawater. Most of the time they stayed up on deck, going below to sleep only when they could not keep their eyes open any longer.
    The two men wandered up to the deck and stood at the rail watching the gray waters of the Atlantic roll. It was late in the afternoon, and huge clouds were boiling up in the west. Luke studied them and rubbed his chin. “There could be trouble in that.”
    â€œJust what we need—a hurricane. Maybe we’ll get toCharleston before it hits. After that I don’t care what it does. It can rain cats and dogs for all I care.”
    Taking his eyes off the sky, Luke turned to face Garrison. “What are you going to do when we get to the States?”
    â€œAs little as I can.”
    â€œSounds good to me. You know, I’ve been thinking about the fellows that won’t