Fiction: Jaudon – An American Family (a novel) [14]

Click image for more of the saga

Chapter 14. On Board

Claude rolled off of the large-busted German woman he had met the second day out to sea. Hana was married to a railroad tycoon, who had stayed in New York City.
    Both Claude and Hana were fighting to breathe. She was in her early to mid-forties, nice to look at, with the largest breasts that Claude had ever had the pleasure to wrestle with. He had found while still in college that an older woman made a much better bed partner. They had no expectations or drama. They were there for the same reason he was. And when it was over they would go their separate ways, until next time.
    Hana got up and went to wash. As the door of la toilette closed, Claude threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. He walked to his pocket watch on the dresser. It was four in the afternoon. He poured a shot of whiskey in a glass and had just downed it when the door to the bathroom opened. Claude poured another drink and sat on the reclining couch to watch Hana put on her clothes.
    Once fully clothed, she came and kissed him on the cheek. “Nicht betrinken, meine liebe.”
    He laughed. “Don’t worry about me getting drunk. I’ll be fine for tonight.”
    Claude popped her on the ass as she walked away. He lay back and thought about what to wear for dinner. The rotation of who ate at the Captain’s table said that he would be dining with the Captain that evening, along with twenty other people. Claude enjoyed dinner time, when everybody was in the same room and he could watch them interacting with each other. They all came from money, but they were as different as day and night.
    The – what he thought of as old money – seemed to look down on the new money. The funny thing was that the new money didn’t seem to notice. Claude had chosen to stay to himself on the trip. That is, other than when he was with Hana, who did very little talking after the first day.
    He finished his drink and washed up, dressed in his best suit, and headed to the saloon for a drink before dinner. He ordered a whiskey at the bar, where he sat on a stool with a high back. As he sipped his drink, his ear caught the sound of French being spoken at the end of the bar. He glanced in that direction and spotted a well-dressed man about his age in a heated discussion with another Frenchman. Claude smiled and went back to his drink. The men were arguing over what breast size was ideal for lovemaking.

    He had just finished his drink as the call to be seated for dinner came. He walked into the dining hall and headed toward the Captain’s table. Guests’ names were inscribed on a folded card placed at each chair. He found his name, pulled out the chair, and sat down. The chair next to him was pulled out, and he looked up to see the Frenchman who had been arguing at the bar.
    The Frenchman smiled. “Bonjour, Monsieur.”
    Claude smiled back, “Bonjour.”
    “Est-ce que tu parles français?” (The Frenchman asked if Claude spoke French.)
    “Oui, je parle français.” (Yes, he said he spoke French.)
    “Merveilleux, où voyagez-vous?” (Where was he traveling to?)
    “Je vais rendre visite à une famille en dehors de Paris.” (Claude hoped he had correctly said he was going to visit family outside of Paris.)
    “Monsieur, please don’t be offended, but maybe it will be better if we speak English. I am Joc DeSalle.”
    Claude put out his hand. “I’m Claude Jaudon.”
    Joc touched his head as if to think. “I know of a family by this name.”
    The steward had poured a glass of white wine at each place, which was to be used as a toast when the Captain came to the table. Claude picked it up and had some. “What is wrong with my French?”
    “Please, may I call you Claude?”
    “Yes, of course.”
    “Well, Claude, first the wine is not to drink until the Captain comes to the table. But your French. The words, you are good, but the accent hurts my ears.”
    Claude picked up the glass of wine and emptied it. “As for the wine, they can damn well bring more. My French. You’re the second person that has told me that. I don’t understand. To me it sounds perfect.”
    “I’m sorry, my friend. But it is far from perfect.”
    Claude waved at the steward for more wine. He noticed now that a number of other people had started drinking their wine after he had turned his up. His glass was being refilled as the Captain came into the room. The steward rushed around the table continuing to refill glasses.
    A steward ran to the Captain’s end of the table to pull out his chair, and he picked up his glass before sitting. “I want to welcome each and every one of you to my ship. May your voyage be peaceful and enjoyable.”
    They all drank, and the Captain took his seat. Claude and Joc weren’t at either his end of the table or the other end, where another ship’s officer was seated. They were more or less in the dead zone, not involved in the conversations at either end of the table.
    Joc leaned close to Claude and whispered, “Have you noticed, there are no women of our age on board this ship? They are either old enough to be my mother, or young enough to get you shot.”
    Claude looked over at the table closest to the wall, and Hana gave him a little wave. “I haven’t been bothered by that fact myself.”
    Joc had followed Claude’s glaze. “You like the big melons, no?”
    Claude laughed. “They have their use.”

    The table grew quiet at Claude’s laughter. The Captain looked down the table and shouted: “Wonderful, laughter! Please share your joke so we may all laugh.”
    Claude leaned into the table and looked at the Captain. “I’m sorry, sir, but I feel it would be inappropriate with women present. Maybe over drinks some night.”
    The Captain nodded his head toward Claude. “Then maybe you should keep any further jokes for the bar also.”
    Claude tilted his head in astonishment and sat back.
    Joc whispered, “Touchy, isn’t he?”
    Claude shrugged. “It’s his ship. So, unless you want to swim, he gets to call the shots.”
    Joc pushed back his chair. “We’ve finished the meal, let’s go to the saloon and get drunk.”
    They both stood and bowed toward the Captain before walking away. They could hear the whispering as they left the table. It was mostly about how rude they were. But neither Claude nor Joc cared what the people at the table thought about them. It would be their last time at the Captain’s table, anyway.
    In the bar, the two men drank and talked into the night. Claude missed his meeting with Hanna, but he didn’t care. By the next day, when he and Joc met for breakfast, both with a terrible hangover, they were fast friends. Claude was going to ride to Paris in a car with Joc instead of taking the train, which stopped in every town along the way and would take twice as long. Claude was also invited to stay at the Château de la Salle, Joc’s family home.

Copyright © 2019 by Ed Rogers