Airship City

Chapter 4

Joseph was standing on a rooftop landing pad, somewhere in London. It was night, and a cold wind was blowing. An airship's dark bulk loomed above him. Gusts of wind struck its silver flank, making the fabric ripple slightly in the gleam of the moonlight.

Then from out of the shadows on the other side of the pad, a tall figure emerged. He was wearing a long leather flying coat, and he strode purposefully towards the entrance hatch of the gondola that was suspended beneath the airship’s great envelope.

“Dad!” shouted Joseph. He started to run across the landing pad towards his father. “Dad! Wait for me!”

Morgan Samson stopped, and turned to look back at his son. He smiled, a soft, sad smile, and shook his head slowly.

“Wait for me, Dad! Please! Please wait!” Joseph was running as fast as he could, running with all of his might. But something was wrong. He wasn’t getting any closer. He watched helplessly as his father turned and entered the gondola’s hatch.

“Dad! Don’t go! Wait for me!” Hot tears were rolling down Joseph’s face now, as the airship dwindled in his vision, falling away from him, becoming smaller, until he couldn’t make it out anymore.

He became conscious that he was lying in his bed, his pillow soaked with his tears, and knew the nightmare had returned. He lay there, the silence of the night all around him, and a familiar despair washed over him.

The unwelcome dream had been his nightly companion since the morning his mother, haggard and tear-stained, had awakened him with the news that his father had been killed in an airship explosion. For months it had tormented him, robbing him of sleep. The past few weeks had seen a slight respite, often with two or three peaceful nights in a row before the nightmare returned. But every time it did, he became afraid that it would get worse again.

Joseph rubbed his eyes and sat up, turning on his bedside light. He stared bleakly at the framed photograph on his nightstand. It showed a tall man in a leather flying coat, smiling at the camera. Why did you leave us? I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. I needed you. I still do. Tears filled his eyes again as he felt the familiar, awful hollow pain in his chest.

He rolled away to face the wall, resigned to waiting until it was time to get up. He closed his eyes, even though he knew it would do no good, he wouldn’t sleep again. He didn’t want to anyway. The nightmare never returned a second time in the same night, but he was still afraid that it could…

“Joseph! It’s eight o’clock! You’d better get up!”

His mother’s voice awoke Joseph with a start. He sat up, confused, his heart pounding.

“Joseph! Get up now! You’ll be late for work again!”

“All right, Mum!” Joseph yelled irritably. He felt tired. The memory of the nightmare came to him in a rush, followed by the recollection of Mickey’s blackmail threat. And then he remembered the meeting with Monmouth, and the possibility that his father had in fact been murdered. He shook his head wearily. I wake up from a nightmare into more nightmares.

He hauled himself out of bed with a sigh, washed and dressed, and plodded listlessly down the stairs and into the kitchen.

His mother turned to him as he entered. “Joseph Samson, you are sixteen years old! Your school days are behind you. Why do you make me run after you as if you were a baby? When are you going to take some responsibility?”

The unfairness of the accusation took Joseph’s breath away. He had so much on his shoulders that he didn’t know what to do about it. A quiet voice in his mind urged him to share his problems with his mother. But he knew he couldn’t, he didn’t want to worry her about his work, and as for Monmouth’s accusations against Hughes, well, what was his mother supposed to make of that? He shook his head. He would have to deal with it all himself.