I gave him birth, I shared his berth
She left him at the altar, she altered him. I gave him life at birth; I saved his life, and then shared his berth. It was supposed to be their honeymoon cruise. It turned into my sonny-moon cruise. It is our story, of our voyage; on the high seas, and our discovery of a new world, the land of incest.
I don't expect you to believe this. I hardly do myself. But this is the tale of what happened, and how what was a near tragedy, became a break-through to a new understanding between myself, and my dear son, Samuel.
The wedding hall had been rented months in advance, and we were there with the rabbi, waiting for the bride. I had footed the bill for everything. My husband left me very wealthy, but what good is money, if you can't provide for your loved ones? Sam's older sister, Janice, had an even more elaborate blow-out. This was nothing to thumb your nose at either. But since it was not quite the costly ticket for the ceremony and reception, as with Jan's, I splurged on the tickets for their honeymoon cruise. You only get married for the first time once, right?
Of course, right. So next time Jan gets married, (she found the schmuck cheating on her - even within the first year), it won't be such a big shindig. At least not on Mama's money!! Anyway, there we all were, the bride's limo pulls up. Out gets the Maid of Honor, but no Madeline the Bride-to-be. And Betsy isn't wearing a gown as she gets out of the car and comes slowly down the aisle. Not a good sign. The Maid of Honor goes up to Sammy. He asks, "Where's Maddy? What's going on?" Betsy hands him an envelope of purple, pink and green, Maddy's personal stationery. All her notes to me about the service and reception were on it, so I recognized it. I had a bad feeling.
Sure enough Samuel takes out a sheet of note paper, same colors, I can't read what is on it, but her lavender pen has scrawled some hand writing on it. The engagement ring drops to the floor out of the envelope, as Sam takes out the note. SHIT! That girl was the love of his life. He reads the note, silently to himself.
He looks at me, then at Jan, then at Daddy in the sky, though I am sure that if he is a ghost, Jacob's sitting next to me. Samuel looks to the crowd and says in the softest voice (if the place hadn't been dead silent I doubt he would have been heard), says Sam, "The wedding is off." Then his eyes roll up, and he drops to the floor, like the ring did. Fainted dead away. He lived; but when he came to, he was in shock.
Dr. Schwartzenburger, our long time family physician, (of course he was there - everybody was) had somebody fetch his medical bag from his Mercedes and gave poor Sammy a shot. A sedative, then wrote a prescription for a few pills of a lesser dose. Jan volunteered to run to the pharmacy, but I sent one of the ushers instead. The Best Man, and another of Sam's friends, helped him into our waiting limo. I needed Jan with me, when we brought her brother home.
We got him to bed, with a couple stiff scotches, since the pills were not there yet. He went to sleep. I started making a bunch of phone calls, Madeline wouldn't answer, but I got hold of everybody else I could think of, to handle the crisis. I sat with Jan in the kitchen. Jan spoke, "Ma, what now? What is Sammy going to do? He ought to go somewhere else for a while; this neighborhood will be too painful."
See, Maddy was almost the girl next door, in our suburban community on Long island. Samuel and she had grown up together. What Jan meant was that there would be too many painful memories, being here in this place. He ought not to go back to his new condo in New Jersey alone, but what's to do?
I snapped my fingers, having made a snap decision. Not for nothing, had I run my husband's company after he had had his massive stroke and left me with everything to do or to sell. I had built up the business even bigger since Jacob passed to the big deli in the sky - or where ever they had the best lox. I was used to making executive decisions, nu? So, I did. I made one more phone call to my trusted travel agent, a cousin, and told her what to do. I didn't need a confirmation call back. She had been at the wedding, make that disaster as in Titanic; need I say more?
I said to Jan, "He gonna be elsewhere, he'll be out of the country."
"Mama, where are you sending him? Should I go along, and keep him from doing himself harm?"
"You think it's that bad?" She nodded, I thought maybe so too, but I had another arrangement in mind. "He's going on that cruise."
"Okay, I like the Caribbean, I'll pack."
"No, Sweetheart, you don't have to, I'm going! I paid for the trip, and can't get my money back at this late date. But
I
will go with Sammy. Besides getting my money's worth, I haven't been to Jamaica, or the Bahamas, or anywhere down there but Miami, when I go to see your Aunt Sadie." (That's Jake's sister, we are very close.) "You've been all around that whole area three times. My turn."
"Right, Samuel goes on his honeymoon with his mother!"
"He should go with his single sister? It won't be his honeymoon; it will be a relaxing vacation. He doesn't have to hang around me, just as long as he doesn't mope in the cabin. I'll make sure he has a good time, if it kills him!" How prophetic those words were, in a way.
So we did. How did Sammy deal with it? Well, the trip was two days after the wedding. He would have had to make a huge argument with both his big sister and his pushy mother. I didn't raise any stupid kids, they might be meshuggah, but not dumb. It was easier just to allow us to steer him into steerage. Not third-class really, we had a tip-top first-class cabin suite. I don't skimp, when it comes to my babies' happiness. Jacob always said, "Money can't buy happiness, but it can make the way clear for it to arrive."
Besides Sam was so doped up on tranquilizers from those pills, he didn't know we were going to port until we arrived at the dock in Florida. Maybe he thought I was taking him to Disney World. I had always promised, but never quite got the chance. All three of us flew down. Then Janice went to visit with Sadie, and Samuel and I, we boarded the newest ship in the fleet. Boy! was it large, something for everyone. We found our room, and there was champagne and roses waiting, like I had ordered months ago.
He didn't even know I was his cabin-mate, until the lifeboat drill alarm sounded.
"Mama, isn't it time for you to get off the boat?" Something was registering finally; the double pills that morning were wearing off.
"Sweetie, that ship has sailed! I'm your berth-mate! Welcome aboard a two week cruise, all around the Caribbean. Let's get to the deck for the drill, in case we have to be stranded on a desert island."
He looked at me, and then around the cabin, but before he could say anything more, the steward knocked on the door. He asked we get to Deck C, lifeboat twenty-two, as quick as possible, please. So we did, and got the life vests on, and all that stuff done with. Then I took him to the stern, found a cocktail lounge, and poured scotch in him until he was ready to crash. Reality could wait until morning.
There was just one hitch to our accommodations. I mean it was a beautiful suite, lovely little balcony, nice furnishings, first class alright, who could complain? Just, it was for a honeymoon couple, it had a queen size bed, one. Not one you could split either like some of the cheaper rooms. And they were booked to the gills. We were stuck sharing the bed, unless one of us wanted to bunk with the crew. So we change in the bathroom, and the bed was plenty big. What could happen - what, my son would molest his own mother?
So Sammy woke up next me the second day of the cruise. I told my boy the facts of life, so to speak. I explained that I had talked to the head steward, but he could do nothing about the situation but bring in a folding cot. I mean, the place was spacious, for a ship, but the cot was not kosher, as far as my money was concerned. If we shared a bed, it would be like old times, when we roughed it in the Catskills, at that motel one night when there were car problems. Two beds, and Jacob slept on the floor. Samuel was ten and Janice was a big sixteen, and I was my dainty self, so it made sense, right?
So we would not be much in each other's way, all things considered. Sam was still depressed; I had run out of tranqs for him to pop. He wasn't that much of a boozer, so he moped, just as I feared. The second evening, I heard him crying, after he thought I had gone to sleep. But I'm a light sleeper, and I could tell that he needed comforting. I was right there. I held him in my arms, and he cuddled right to me. Just like when he was eight, and his puppy had gotten run over in the street, in front of our house. Jacob had carried the pooch's body into our home, and Sammy came upstairs and broke down.
His heart was broken now, that was for pity sure. Mama held her big boy, weeping his eyes out, until he fell asleep, finally. The next day, I had us signed up for a sightseeing tour. He didn't want to go, but I have my means. I threatened to tell some pretty single girl that he was on the rebound, and have her after him. Of course, I didn't know anyone who would fit the bill, but he decided that me getting my way was better than some stray gal getting in his way, so he went along without fussing. We did have a good time, but when we got back to the boat, "Mr. Moper" returned to his sullen ways. I did get him to see the comedian's act at the lounge that night, but Sam never laughed once. And I tell you, the guy was FUNNY!!
So we settled in for the night, changed in the washroom, and I took the inside of the bed, he the outer half.
In the early morning, I awoke and Samuel was gone. His side was warm, so I knew it hadn't been very long since he got up. Call it mother's intuition. I looked, and the bathroom light was dark, the door open, I didn't hear a sound. I turned around; he was not out on the balcony. I got up, not even putting a robe on, just hurried out to the deck, closest to our cabin.
There was no time to think, as I saw my son putting a foot up on a storage box, next to the railing. He was gripping the bar, and about to hoist himself up. There was nothing between him and the water, fifty feet down. The ship was under full steam, full speed ahead to the next island. I just reacted. I raced over to Sammy, grabbed his shirt, and yanked back with all my strength. I caught him off balance, and he floundered back; then staggered backwards more, trying to get his balance. He finally slammed into the wall far from the side of the ship, and safe from being a man overboard, which he almost was.
I was filled with rage and fear. I took two big steps right up to him, and slapped his face so hard I left red welts on his cheek. I screamed at him, the words I had commanded the little boy with, so many times in the past. "Samuel Moishe Covey! Get to your room this instant! Move!!" Like he was a child again, he held his cheek, nodded and scurried back to our cabin. I was right behind him. I locked the door. I turned, the fright and the anger still flooding my emotions. I yelled, "How dare you!? How dare you take the life I gave you, and throw it away. Over some girl, the whole rest of your life, gone . . ." the realization hit me then; and everything melted inside myself down to a puddle of grief, as if it had actually happened.
I burst into tears, and managed to say through great sobs, "Sammy, how could you leave me here? Alone, with you overboard and dead? Don't you think that would kill me? How could I live, knowing
I
