Infinite Loop - Chapter 16

Discovering Prejudice and A Cab Ride

For her part, Amber finally left the Andes as the dock workers were long back from their lunch. Walking along the deck from her cabin, she was one of the last passengers to leave the ship. Behind her, a thin colored man in a white porter’s coat and black cap struggled to carry all of her luggage. First Officer Holtz and the bursar Smiley stood near the gangplank as Amber left. Holtz held out his hand for her as she stepped onto the wooden steps leading to the dock. She heard one of her leather bags drop onto the deck behind her and she turned to see the German officer curse the black man. While she did not understand most of the words, she could tell he was livid.

Smiley laughed at the porter’s situation as he awkwardly tried to pick up the bag.

“I’d need me blackface on to be that clumsy,” the Englishman mocked the effort while the First Officer glared at the porter.

Amber felt a flash of anger rise at the worker’s abuse. However, she remained silent as she carefully made her way down the rest of the gangplank to the dock.

On the pier, she told the man to put her bags down near closed doors of the nearby warehouse and then thanked him for his help, giving him a large tip.

“Thank ya, ma’am. I’m right sorry for your trouble.”

His accent was from the Caribbean, and he smiled at her for the tip before quickly hurrying back to the ship. Strangely, it dawned on her that the blatant prejudice the man experienced was cruel. She noticed the hostile looks he received from Holtz and Smiley. Amber wondered how he could put up with it. A vague feeling of anger swept over, but her thoughts couldn’t reconcile the reason. It was like a deeply buried unease wanted to push out of her.

Amber’s thoughts went back to other similar instances she witnessed on the cruise. She heard offensive comments about different ethnicities being casually discussed. It was like the Nazis she heard about on the radio sat at the table, convinced of their superior ways. She recognized the hypocrisy of those with money who were only a couple of generations from their immigrant roots. However, the woman forced herself to suppress her emotions. While Amber held the internal belief in the prejudice’s stupidity, she did nothing to speak against it. She knew she was the real hypocrite. However, the woman believed she had bigger problems to tackle. 

Events overtook the line of thoughts as Amber looked around for a taxi. Her head swam from exhaustion, and she wanted to sit down. The Boston Harbor police sergeant had learned of her association with Warren Baker. After intensely questioning her for over an hour, she finally grew angry. Amber threatened to take the matter to O’Malley’s superiors, even mentioning her father. She saw a curious expression cross his face. However, he said nothing more and told her she could leave the ship, apparently convinced of her story. Amber omitted her time in the cargo hold. For obvious reasons, the woman didn’t mention Warren going to her cabin until morning. Amid the hodgepodge of activities and her search for a taxi, a man approached her.

“Miss Fane?” A man asked with a heavy Italian accent.

His heavily lined face looked sympathetic, and he tipped his hat politely, revealing his black hair.

“Yes?” she replied carefully.

“He’s a right, you’re a cute girl,” he said with an enormous grin. “I’ve already got your trunks from the ship in my cab.”

He quickly picked up her bag, starting down the dock.

“Wait, what are you talking about? Who’s right?” She hurried after the man.

“The man waiting for you, of course,” the cabbie said as he continued walking. He moved quickly, while skillfully avoiding the dockworkers navigating their power lifts and small carts. Amber scrambled in her high heels to keep up with him.

They passed beyond the maze of steel girders and beams which provided the base for the large overhead cranes. Between the line of cranes and the massive brick structures that made up the warehouse, a narrow road followed the wharf back to land. Parked behind several stacked pallets of tobacco was a yellow DeSoto.

“That’s a my cab, lady. I take you anywhere,” he said happily. “The fella wasn’t sure of the address, but he’s a big tipper.”

With some hesitation, Amber opened the rear door. At first, she didn’t recognize the man inside. Then she realized it was Warren Baker. Dressed in a dark gray wool overcoat and wearing a Greek sailor’s cap, the escapee looked terribly out of place. Any other time, she would have laughed at the ridiculous sight. Instead, she hesitated, swiftly glancing around while the cab driver put her luggage in the trunk.

“Get in!” He ordered. “No one followed you. I watched.”